Bast. It lies as slightly on the back of him, As great Alcides' shoes upon an ass :— But, ass, I'll take that burden from your back; Or lay on that shall make your shoulders crack.

Aust. What cracker is this same, that deafs our With this abundance of superfluous breath? [ears K. Phi. Lewis, determine what we shall do straight. [ference. Lew. Women and fools, break off your conKing John, this is the very sum of all,— England, and Ireland, Anjou, Touraine, Maine, In right of Arthur do I claim of thee: Wilt thou resign them, and lay down thy arms? K. John. My life as soon:-I do defy thee, France.

Arthur of Bretagne, yield thee to my hand; And, out of my dear love, I'll give thee more Than e'er the coward hand of France can win : Submit thee, boy.

Eli. Come to thy grandam, child.

Const. Do, child, go to it' grandam, child;
Give grandam kingdom, and it' grandam will
Give it a plum, a cherry, and a fig:
There's a good grandam.

Arth. Good, my mother, peace!

I would, that I were low laid in my grave; I am not worth this coil that's made for me. Eli. His mother shames him so, poor boy, he weeps. [or no, Const. Now shame upon you, whe'r she does, His grandam's wrongs, and not his mother's shames, [eyes, Draw those heaven-moving pearls from his poor Which heaven shall take in nature of a fee; Ay, with these crystal beads heaven shall be brib'd To do him justice, and revenge on you.

Eli. Thou monstrous slanderer of heaven and earth! [earth!

Const. Thou monstrous injurer of heaven and Call not me slanderer; thou, and thine, usurp The dominations, royalties, and rights

Of this oppressed boy: this is thy eldest son's son,
Infortunate in nothing but in thee;
Thy sins are visited in this poor child;
The canon of the law is laid on him,
Being but the second generation
Removed from thy sin-conceiving womb.
K. John. Bedlam, have done.
Const. I have but this to say,-
That he's not only plagued for her sin,
But God hath made her sin and her the plague
On this removed issue, plagu'd for her,
And with her plague, her sin his injury
Her injury, the beadle to her sin;

All punish'd in the person of this child,
And all for her; a plague upon her!

Eli. Thou unadvised scold, I can produce
A will, that bars the title of thy son.
Const. Ay, who doubts that? a will! a wicked
A woman's will; a canker'd grandam's will!

[will;

K. Phi. Peace, lady; pause, or be more temIt ill beseems this presence, to cry aim [perate:

Our trumpet call'd you to this gentle parle. K. John. For our first advantage :-therefora hear us first.—

These flags of France, that are advanced here
Before the eye and prospect of your town,
Have hither march'd to your endamagement:
The cannons have their bowels full of wrath;
And ready mounted are they, to spit forth
Their iron indignation 'gainst your walls:
All preparation for a bloody siege,
And merciless proceeding by these French,
Confront your city's eyes, your winking gates;
And, but for our approach, these sleeping stones,
That as a waist do girdle you about,
By the compulsion of their ordinance
By this time from their fixed beds of lime
Had been dishabited, and wide havoc made
For bloody power to rush upon your peace.
But, on the sight of us, your lawful king,—
Who painfully, with much expedient march,
Have brought a countercheck before your gates,
To save unscratch'd your city's threaten'd cheeks,―
Behold, the French, amaz'd, vouchsafe a parle :
And now, instead of bullets wrapp'd in fire,
To make a shaking fever in your walls,
They shoot but calm words, folded up in smoke,
To make a faithless error in your ears:
Which trust accordingly, kind citizens,
And let us in, your king; whose labour'd spirits,
For wearied in this action of swift speed,
Crave harbourage within your city walls.

[both.

K. Phi. When I have said, make answer to us Lo, in this right hand, whose protection Is most divinely vow'd upon the right Of him it holds, stands young Plantagenet; Son to the elder brother of this man,

And king o'er him, and all that he enjoys;
For this down-trodden equity, we tread
In warlike march these greens before your town
Being no further enemy to you,
Than the constraint of hospitable zeal,
In the relief of this oppressed child,
Religiously provokes. Be pleased, then,
To pay that duty, which you truly owe,

To him that owes it; namely, this young princes
And then our arms, like to a muzzled bear,
Save in aspéct, have all offence seal'd up
Our cannons' malice vainly shall be spent
Against the invulnerable clouds of heaven;
And with a blessed and unvex'd retire,
With unhack'd swords, and helmets all unbruis'
We will bear home that lusty blood again,
Which here we came to spout against your town,
And leave your children, wives, and you, in peace
But if you fondly pass our proffer'd offer,

'Tis not the roundure of your old-fac'd walls
Can hide you from our messengers of war;
Though all these English, and their discipline,
Were harbour'd in their rude circumference.
Then, tell us, shall your city call us lord,
In that behalf, which we have challeng'd it?
Or shall we give the signal to our rage,
And stalk in blood to our possession? [subjects;
1 Cit. In brief, we are the king of England's
For him, and in his right, we hold this town.
K. John. Acknowledge then the king, and let
me in.

[king,

1 Cit. That can we not: but he, that proves the To him will we prove loyal; till that time, Have we ramm'd up our gates against the world. K. John. Doth not the crown of England prove the king?

And, if not that, I bring you witnesses,
Twice fifteen thousand hearts of England's breed,-
Bast. Bastards, and else.

K. John. To verify our title with their lives. K. Phi. As many, and as well-born bloods as those,―

Bast. Some bastards too.

K. Phi. Stand in his face, to contradict his claim [worthiest,

1 Cit. Till you compound whose right is We, for the worthiest, hold the right from both. K. John. Then God forgive the sin of all those That to their everlasting residence, [souls, Before the dew of evening fall, shall fleet, In dreadful trial of our kingdom's king!

K. Phi. Amen, amen!-Mount, chevaliers! to arms! [e'er since,

Bast. St. George, that swing'd the dragon, and Sits on his horseback at mine hostess' door, Teach us some fence!-Sirrah, were I at home, At your den, sirrah [to Austria], with your lioness, I'd set an ox head to your lion's hide, And make a monster of you.

Aust. Peace; no more.

Bast. O, tremble: for you hear the lion roar. K. John. Up higher to the plain; where we'll set forth,

1

In best appointment, all our regiments.

Bast. Speed then, to take advantage of the field. K. Phil. It shall be so ;-[to Lewis] and at the

other hill

-28

Enter an English Herald, with trumpets E. Her. Rejoice, you men of Angiers, ring your bells; [proach, King John, your king and England's, doth apCommander of this hot malicious day! Their armours, that march'd hence so silver-bright, Hither return all gilt with Frenchmen's blood; There stuck no plume in any English ciest, That is removed by a staff of France; Our colours do return in those same hands That did display them when we first march'd forth; And, like a jolly troop of huntsmen, come Our lusty English, all with purpled hands, Died in the dying slaughter of their foes: Open your gates, and give the victors way.

[behold,

Cit. Heralds, from off our towers we might From first to last, the onset and retire Of both your armies; whose equality By our best eyes cannot be censured: Blood hath bought blood, and blows have answer'd Strength match'd with strength, and power confronted power:

[blows;

Both are alike; aud both alike we like.
One must prove greatest: while they weigh so even,.
We hold our town for neither; yet for both.
Enter, at one side, King John, with his power;
Elinor, Blanch, and the Bastard; at the other,
King Philip, Lewis, Austria, and forces.
K. John. France, hast thou yet more blood to
cast away?

TIN

SCENE II. THE SAME.

Command the rest to stand.-God, and our right!
[exeunt.
Alarums and excursions; then a retreat. Enter a
French Herald, with trumpets, to the gates.
F. Her. You men of Angiers, open wide your
gates,

And let young Arthur, duke of Bretagne, in;
Who, by the hand of France, this day hath made
Much work for tears in many an English mother,
Whose sons lye scatter'd on the bleeding ground:
Many a widow's husband grovelling lies,
Coldly embracing the discolour'd earth;
And victory, with little loss, doth play
Upon the dancing banners of the French;
Who are at hand, triumphantly display'd,
To enter conquerors, and to proclaim
Arthur of Bretagne, England's king, and yours.

Say, shall the current of our right run on?
Whose passage, vex'd with thy impediment,
Shall leave his native channel, and o'er-swell
With course disturb'd even thy confining shores;
Unless thou let his silver water keep
A peaceful progress to the ocean.

[of blood,

K. Phi. England, thou hast not sav'd one drop In this hot trial, more than we of France? Rather, lost more; and by this hand I swear, That sways the earth this climate overlooks, Before we will lay down our just-borne arms, We'll put thee down 'gainst whom these arms we Or add a royal number to the dead, [bear, Gracing the scroll, that tells of this war's loss, With slaughter coupled to the name of kings.

Bast. Ha, majesty! how high thy glory towers, When the rich blood of kings is set on fire! O, now doth death line his dead chaps with steel, The swords of soldiers are his teeth, his fangs ; And now he feasts, mouthing the flesh of men, In undetermin'd differences of kings.Why stand these royal fronts amazed thus? Cry havoc, kings! back to the stained field, You equal potents, fiery-kindled spirits! Then let confusion of one part confirm The other's peace; till then, blows, blood, and death; admit? K. John. Whose part do the townsmen yet K. Phi. Speak, citizens, for England: who's your king? [king.

1 Cit. The king of England, when we know the K. Phi. Know him in us, that here hold up his right.

K. John. In us, that are our own great deputy And bear possession of our person here; Lord of our presence, Angiers, and of you.

*342

And stand securely on their battlements,
As in a theatre, whence they gape and point
At your industrious scenes and acts of death.
Your royal presences be rul'd by me;
Do like the mutines of Jerusalem,

Be friends awhile, and both conjointly bend
Your sharpest deeds of malice on this town;
By east and west let France and England mount
Their battering cannon, charged to the mouths;
Till their soul-fearing clamours have brawl'd down
The flinty ribs of this contemptuous city :
I'd play incessantly upon these jades,
Even till unfenced desolation
Leave them as naked as the vulgar air.
That done, dissever your united strengths
And part your mingled colours once again:
Turn face to face, and bloody point to point:
Then, in a moment, fortune shall cull forth
Out of one side her happy minion;

To whom in favour she shall give the day,
And kiss him with a glorious victory.
How like you this wild counsel, mighty states?
Smacks it not something of the policy? [our heads,

K. John. Now, by the sky that hangs above I like it well;-France, shall we knit our powers, And lay this Angiers even with the ground; Then, after, fight who shall be king of it?

Bast. And if thou hast the mettle of a king,, Being wrong'd, as we are, by this peevish town,Turn thou the mouth of thy artillery

As we will ours, against these saucy walls:
And when that we have dash'd them to the ground,
Why, then defy each other; and, pell-mell,
Make work upon ourselves, for heaven, or hell.
K. Phi. Let it be so:-say, where will you
assault?

[tion

K. John. We from the west will send destrucInto this city's bosom.

Aust. I from the north.

K. Phi. Our thunder from the south, Shall rain their drift of bullets on this town.

Bast. O prudent discipline! From north to south; Austria and France shoot in each other's mouth: [aside.

I'll stir them to it:-Come, away, away! [stay,
1 Cit. Hear us, great kings: vouchsafe awhile to
And I shall show you peace, and fair-faced league;
Win you this city without stroke, or wound;
Rescue those breathing lives to die in beds,
That here come sacrifices for the field:
Perséver not, but hear me, mighty kings.

K. John. Speak on, with favour; we are bent
to hear.
[Blanch,

1 Cit. That daughter there of Spain, the lady Is near to England; look upon the years Of Lewis the Dauphin, and that lovely maid; If lusty love should go in quest of beauty, Where should he find it fairer, thau in Blanch; If zealous love should go in search of virtue,

Is the young Dauphin every way complete:
If not complete, O say, he is not she;
And she again wants nothing, to name want,
If want it be not, that she is not he:
He is the half part of a blessed man,
Left to be finished by such a she;
And she a fair divided excellence,
Whose fulness of perfection lies in him.
O, two such silver currents, when they join,
Do glorify the banks that bound them in:
And two such shores to two such streams made one,
Two such controlling bounds shall you be, kings,
To these two princes, if you marry them.
This union shall do more than battery can,
To our fast-closed gates; for, at this match,
With swifter spleen than powder can enforce,
The mouth of passage shall we fling wide ope,
And give you entrance: but, without this match,
The sea enraged is not half so deaf,
Lions more confident, mountains and rocks
More free from motion; no, not death himself
In mortal fury half so peremptory,
As we to keep this city.

Bast. Here's a stay

That shakes the rotten carcase of old death
Out of his rags! Here's a large mouth, indeed,
That spits forth death, and mountains, rocks, and
Talks as familiarly of roaring lions,
[seas;
As maids of thirteen do of puppy-dogs!
What cannoneer begot this lusty blood? [bounce;
He speaks plain cannon, fire, and smoke, and
He gives the bastinado with his tongue;
Our ears are cudgel'd; not a word of his,
But buffets better than a fist of France:
Zounds! I was never so bethump'd with words,
Since I first call'd my brother's father, dad.

Eli. Son, list to this conjunction, make this match;

Give with our niece a dowry large enough:
For by this knot thou shalt so surely tie
Thy now unsur'd assurance to the crown,
That yon green boy shall have no sun to ripe
The bloom, that promiseth a mighty fruit.
I see a yielding in the looks of France; [soul
Mark, how they whisper: urge them, while their
Are capable of this ambition;
Lest zeal, now melted, by the windy breath
Of soft petitions, pity, and remorse,
Cool and congeal again to what it was.

1 Cit. Why answer not the double majesties This friendly treaty of our threaten'd town? K. Phi. Speak England first, that hath beer forward first

To speak unto this city: What say you?

K. John. If that the Dauphin there, thy princely Can in this book of beauty read, I love, [son, Her dowry shall weigh equal with a queen: For Anjou, and fair Touraine, Maine, Poictlers, And all that we ve upon this side the sea (Except this city, now by us besieg'd), Find liable to our crown and dignity, Shall gild her bridal bed; and make her rich