Percie. A hot yong man, and fo my lords proceed, I let him goe, and better loft than found.

Pemb. What fay you lords, will all the rest proceed, Will you all with me fweare vpon the altar,

That you wil to the death, be aid to Le. and enemy to Iohn? Euery man lay his hand by mine, in witnes of his harts accord.

Wel then, euery man to armes to meet the king,

Who is already before London.

Enter Meffenger.

Pemb. What newes herauld?

The right chriftian prince my mafter, Lewis of France, is at hand, comming to vifit your honours, directed hither by the right honourable Richard earle of Bigot, to conferre with your honours.

Pemb. How neere is his highneffe?
Mef. Ready to enter your prefence.

Enter Lewis, earle Bigot, with his troupe.

Lew. Faire lords of England, Lewis falutes you all
As friends, and firme wel-willers of his weale
At whole requeft, from plentie flowing France,
Croffing the ocean with a foutherne gale,
He is in perfon come at your commands,
To vndertake and gratifie withall,
The fulneffe of your fauours profferd him.
But worlds braue men, omitting promises,
Till time be minifter of more amends,

I must acquaint you with our fortunes course.
The heauens dewing fauours on my head, i
Haue in their conduct fafe with victory,
Brought me along your well manured bounds,

1

With small repulse, and little crosse of chance.
Your citie Rochefter, with great applause,
By fome diuine instinct laid armes afide :
And from the hollow holes of Thamefis,
Eccho apace repli'd, Viue la Roy.

From thence, along the wanton rowling glade
To Troynouant, your faire metropolis,

With lucke came Lewis, to fhew his troupes of France,
Wauing our enfignes with the dallying winds,
The fearefull obiect of fell frowning warre;
Where after fome affault, and fmall defence,
Heauens may I fay, and not my warlike troupe,
Temperd their hearts to take a friendly foe
Within the compaffe of their high built wals,
Giuing me title, as it feemd they wish.
Thus fortune (lords) acts to your forwardneffe,
Meanes of content, in lieu of former griefe:
And may I liue but to requite you all,

Worlds with were mine, in dying noted yours.

Salif. Welcom the balme that clofeth vp our wounds,
The foueraigne medcine for our quicke recure,
The anchor of our hope, the onely prop,

Whereon depends our liues, our lands, our weale,
Without the which, as sheepe without their heird,
(Except a fhepheard winking at the wolfe)
We stray, we pine, we run to thousand harmes.
No maruell then, though with vnwonted ioy,
We welcome him that beateth woes away.

Lew. Thanks to you all of this religious league,
A holy knot of catholike confent,

I cannot name you lordings, man by man,
But like a stranger vnacquainted yet,

In generall I promise faithfull loue: „ 150.

Lord

Lord Bigot brought me to S. Edmunds fhrine,
Giuing me warrant of a christian oath,
That this affembly came deuoted here,
To fweare according as your packets fhow'd,
Homage and loyall feruice to our felfe,

I need not doubt the furetie of your wils,
Since well I know, for many of your fakes,
The townes haue yeelded on their own accords:
Yet for a fashion, not for milbeleefe,

My eyes must witneffe, and thefe eares must heare
Your oath vpon the holy altar fworne,

And after march, to end our commings caufe.

Salf. That we intend no other than good truth,
All that are prefent of this holy league,
For confirmation of our better trust,

In presence of his highneffe, fweare with me,
The fequel that my felfe fhall vtter here.

I Thomas Plantaginet, earle of Salisburie, fweare vpon the altar, and by the holy army of faints, homage and allegeance to the right chriftian prince Lewis of France, as true and rightfull king to England, Cornewall, and Wales, and to their territories: in the defence whereof, I vpon the holy altar fweare all forwardneffe. All the Eng. Lo. fweare. As the noble earle hath fworne, so fweare we all. Lew. I reft affured on your holy oath, And on this altar in like fort I fweare' Loue to you all, and princely recompence To guerdon your good wils vnto the full And fince I am at this religious fhrine, My good wel-willers giùe vs leaue a while, To vfe fome orizons our felues apart, To all the holy company of heauen, That they will smile vpon our purposes, And bring them to a fortunate euent.

Sal. We leaue your highneffe to your good intent
Exeunt lords of England.

Lew. Now vicount Meloun, what remains behind?

Truft me these traytors to their foueraigne ftate,

Are not to be beleeu'd in any fort.

Meloun. Indeed my lord, they that infringe their oths, And play the rebels gainst their natiue king,

Will for as little caufe reuolt from you,

If euer opportunitie incite them fo:

For once forfworne, and neuer after found,

There's no affiance after periury.

Lew. Well Meloun, wel, let's fmooth with the awhile,

Vntill we haue as much as they can doe :

And when their vertue is exhaled drie,

Ile hang them for the guerdon of their helpe :
Meane while wee'l víe them as a pretious poyson,
To vndertake the iffue of our hope.

Fr. Lo. Tis policy (my lord) to baite our hookes
With merry smiles, and promise of much weight:
But when your highneffe needeth them no more.
Tis good make fure worke with them, left indeede
They prooue to you as to their naturall king.

Melun. Truft mee my lord, right well haue you aduisde, Venome for vfe, but neuer for a sport

Is to be dallied with, left, it infect.

Were you inftald, as foone I hope you shall:

Be free from traitors, and difpatch them all....
Lewes. That fo I meane, I fweare before you all
On this fame altar, and by heauens power,
Theres not an English traitor of them all,
John once difpatcht, and I faire Englands king,
Shall on his shoulders beare his head one day,
But I will crop it for their guilts defert:

Nor

Nor fhall their heires inioy their feigniories,
But perish by their parents foule amisse.
This haue I fworne, and this will I performe,
If ere I come vnto the height I hope.

Lay downe your hands, and fweare the fame with me.
The French lords fweare.

Why fo, now call them in, and fpeake them faire,
A fmile of Fraunce will feed an English foole.
Beare them in hand as friends, for fo they be:
But in the heart like traitors as they are.

Enter the English lords...

Now famous followers, chiefetaines of the world,
Haue we follicited with hearty prayer

The heauen in fauour of our high attempt.

Leaue we this place, and march we with our power
To rowse the tyrant from his chiefeft hold:
And when our labours haue a profprous end,
Each man fhall reape the fruit of his defert.
And fo refolu'd, braue followers let vs hence.

Enter K. Iohn, Bastard, Pandulph, and a many priests with them.

Thus Iohn, thou art abfolv'd from all thy finnes,

And freed by order from our fathers curfe.

Receiue thy crowne againe, with this prouifo,
That thou remaine true liegeman to the pope,
And carry armes in right of holy Rome.

John. I holde the fame as tenant to the pope,
And thanke your holineffe for your kindneffe fhewne.
Philip. A proper ieft, when kings muft ftoop to friers,
Need hath no law, when fiiers must be kings.

Enter