And as each put in his claim, he attempted to make it good in such a fashion that John found his situation the very reverse of pleasant.
"Gentlemen, gentlemen," said he, as his patience wore out, "I pray you cease this riot, and conduct me and my son in a courteous manner to the Prince of Wales. You shall all be rewarded. I am so great a lord that I can make you all sufficiently rich."
At these words, which every one heard, the crowd was in some degree appeased; but disputes were again breaking out, and John's position was becoming every moment less agreeable, when suddenly Lord Cobham and the Earl of Warwick, who, while riding over the field, had observed the tumult, spurred up to the place.
"What is the matter?" asked they.
"It is the King of France, who has been made prisoner," was the reply; and immediately more than a dozen knights and squires stepped forward, each claiming the royal captive as his own.
"Gentlemen," said Warwick, bending his brow and raising his voice menacingly, "this behaviour is most unseemly; and, in the name of the Prince of Wales, I command you all to keep your distance, and not to approach unless desired to do so."
And, as the crowd fell back, Warwick and Cobham dismounted, and, advancing to the prisoner, conducted him quietly to the red pavilion in which the prince was resting from the fatigues of the day.
When the two earls escorted their captive and his son into the pavilion, the Prince of Wales was conversing with his knights on the events of the day. On becoming aware of John's presence, however, he rose and made a very low obeisance, as has been related, and, ordering wine and spices to be brought, presented them to the captive with his own hand, and endeavoured to minister what comfort he could.
"In my opinion," said he, "you ought to be glad that this battle, albeit it has not ended as you desired, has redounded so much to your fame; for you have, this day, had an opportunity of acquiring a high renown for prowess, and have in the field far surpassed all the best knights of whom the chivalry of France can boast."
At these words, John, whose violence seemed to have died out of him, smiled as if in sad reproof; but his young son Philip, who inherited this violence in a high degree, glared on his father's conqueror with the savage ferocity of a young tiger.