K. John. England for itself;

You men of Angiers and my loving fubjects

K. Phil. You loving men of Angiers, Arthur's fubjects,

Our trumpet call'd you to this gentle parle

K. John. For our advantage; therefore hear us first.
Thefe 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 preparations for a bloody fiege

*

h;

And merciless proceeding, by these French,
Confront your city's eyes, your winking gates;
And, but for our approach, thofe fleeping ftones,
That as a waste do girdle you about,

By the compulfion of their ordinance

By this time from their fixed beds of lime
Had been difhabited, and wide havock made
For bloody power to rush upon your peace.
But on the fight of us your lawful King,
(Who painfully with much expedient march
Have brought a counter-check before your gates,
To fave unfcratch'd your city's threat'ned cheeks),
Behold, the French, amaz'd, vouchfafe a parle ;
And now, instead of bullets wrapp'd in fire,
To make a fhaking fever in your walls,

They fhoot but calm words folded up in fmoak,
To make a faithlefs error in your ears;

Which truft accordingly, kind citizens;

And let in us, your King, whofe labour'd spirits,
Fore-weary'd in this action of fwift speed,

Crave harbourage within your city-walls.

K. Phil. When I have faid, make answer to us both.

Lo! in this right-hand, whofe protection
Is moft divinely vow'd upon the right
Of him it holds, ftands 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

*Winking, a metaphor for half open,

In

In warlike march these greens before your town:
Being no further enemy to you,
Than the constraint of hofpitable zeal,
In the relief of this oppreffed child,
Religiously provokes. Be pleased then
To pay that duty, which you truly owe
To him that owns it; namely, this young prince.
And then our arms, like to a muzzled bear,
Save in afpect, hath all offence feal'd up:
Our cannons' malice vainly fhall be spent
Against th' invulnerable clouds of heav'n;
And with a bleffed and unvex'd retire,

With unhack'd fwords, and helmets all unbruis'd,
We will bear home that lufty blood again,
Which here we came to spout against your town;
And leave your children, wives, and you in peace.
But if you fondly pafs our proffer'd offer,
'Tis not the rounder * of your old-face'd walls
Can hide you from our meffengers of war;
Tho' all these English, and their discipline,
Were harbour'd in their rude circumference.
Then tell us, fhall your city call us, Lord,
In that behalf which we have challenge'd it?
Or fhall we give the signal to our rage,
And ftalk in blood to our poffeffion?

Cit. In brief, we are the King of England's fubjects; For him, and in his right, we hold this town.

K. John. Acknowledge then the King, and let me in. Cit. That can we not; but he that proves the King, 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 witneffes,

Twice fifteen thousand hearts of England's breed -Faulc. (Baftards, and elfe).

K. John. To verify our title with their lives.

K. Phil. As many, and as well-born bloods as thofe

Faulc. (Some bastards too).

K. Phil. Stand in his face to contradict his claim.

* i, e. cicle.

Cit. Till you compound whofe right is worthiest, We for the worthiest hold the right from both.

K. John. Then God forgive the fin of all thofe fouls,

That to their everlasting refidence,

Before the dew of evening fall, fhall fleet,

In dreadful trial of our kingdom's King!

K. Phil. Amen, Amen.

arms!

-Mount, Chevaliers, te

Faulc. Saint George that fwinge'd the dragon, and

e'er fince

Sits on his horseback at mine hoftefs' door,

Teach us fome fence. Sirrah, were I at home
At your den, firrah, with your lionefs,

I'd fet an ox-head to your lion's hide
And make a monster of you.

Auft. Peace, no more.

[To Auftria.

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

In beft appointment all our regiments.

Faulc. Speed then to take th' advantage of the field. K. Phil. It fhall be fo; and at the other hill Command the reft to ftand. God, and our right! [Exeunt.

A long charge founded: then, after excurfions, enter the Herald of France 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, Whofe fons lie fcatter'd on the bleeding ground: And many a widow's husband groveling lies, Coldly embracing the difcolour'd earth; While victory with little lofs doth play Upon the dancing banners of the French; Who are at hand triumphantly difplay'd,

* The Archduke wore a lion's hide which had belonged to Richard Cœur-de-lion.

To enter conquerors; and to proclaim

Arthur of Bretagne, England's King, and yours.

E. Her. Rejoice, you men of Angiers; ring your bells;

King John, your King and England's, doth approach,
Commander of this hot malicious day.

Their armours, that march'd hence fo filver-bright,
Hither return all gilt in Frenchmens' blood.
There stuck no plume in any English creft,
That is removed by a staff of France.

Our colours do return in those fame hands,

That did display them when we first march'd forth;
And, like a jolly troop of huntfmen, come
Our lufty English, all with purpled hands,
Dy'd in the dying flaughter of their foes.
Open your gates, and give the victors way.

Cit. Heralds, from off our tow'rs we might behold, From first to laft, the onset and retire

Of both your armies, whofe equality
By our best eyes cannot be cenfured;

Blood hath bought blood, and blows have answer'd blows;

Strength match'd with strength, and power confronted power.

Both are alike, and both alike we like;

One must prove greateft. While they weigh fo even, We hold our town for neither; yet for both.

Enter the two Kings with their powers, at feveral doors.

K. John. France, haft thou yet more blood to caft
away?

Say, fhall the current of our right run on?
Whofe paffage, vex'd with thy impediment,
Shall leave his native channel, and o'erfwell
With courfe diturb'd ev'n thy confining fhores;
Unless thou let his filver water keep

A peaceful progrels to the ocean.

K. Phil.

K. Phil. England, thou haft not fav'd one drop of

blood

In this hot trial, more than we of France;

Rather loft more. And by this hand I swear,
That fways the earth this climate overlooks,
Before we will lay by our juft-borne arms,

We'll put thee down, 'gainst whom these arms we bear;
Or add a royal number to the dead;

Gracing the fcroul that tell's of this war's lofs,
With flaughter coupled to the name of Kings.

Faulc. Ha! Majesty, how high thy glory towers, When the rich blood of Kings is fet on fire!

Oh, now doth Death line his dead chaps with steel;
The fwords of foldiers are his teeth, his phangs;
And now he feasts, mouthing the flesh of men
In undetermin'd differences of Kings.

Why ftand thefe royal fronts amazed thus?
Cry havock, Kings; back to the ftained field,
You equal potents, fiery-kindled fpirits!
Then let confufion of one part confirm

The other's peace; till then, blows, blood, and death.
K. John. Whofe party do the townsmen yet admit?
K. Phil. Speak, Citizens, for England, who's your

King?

Cit. The King of England, when we know the

King.

K. Phil. Know him in us, that here hold up his

right.

K. John. In us, that are our own great deputy, And bear poffeffion of our perfon here;

Lord of our presence, Angiers, and of you.

Cit. A greater pow'r than ye denies all this;

And till it be undoubted, we do lock

Our former fcruple in our ftrong-barr'd gates *.
Faulc. By heav'n, the fcroyles of Angiers flout you,
Kings,

And ftand fecurely on their battlements,

As in a theatre, whence they gape and point

ftrong-barr'd gates,

Kings are our fears until our fears refolv'd
Be by fome certain King purge'd and depos'd.
Faulc. By heav'n, &c.

At