And, for amends to his posterity,
At our importance, hither is he come,
To spread his colours, boy, in thy behalf;
And to rebuke the usurpation

Of thy unnatural uncle, English John: Embrace him, love him, give him welcome hither.

Arth. God shall forgive you Coeur-de-lion's death,

The rather, that you give his offspring life, Shadowing their right under your wings of

war:

I give you welcome with a powerless hand, But with a heart full of unstained love: Welcome before the gates of Angiers, duke. Lew. A noble boy! Who would not do thee right?

Aust. Upon thy cheek lay I this zealous kiss, As seal to this indenture of my love; That to my home I will no more return, Till Angiers, and the right thou hast in France, Together with that pale, that white-fac'd shore, Whose foot spurns back the ocean's roaring tides,

And coops from other lands her islanders, Even till that England, hedg'd in with the main,

That water-walled bulwark, still secure
And confident from foreign purposes,
Even till that utmost corner of the west
Salute thee for her king: till then, fair boy,
Will I not think of home, but follow arms.
Const. O, take his mother's thanks, a wi-
dow's thanks,
[strength,
Till your strong hand shall help to give him
To make a more requital to your love.
Aust. The peace of heaven is theirs, that lift
their swords

In such a just and charitable war.

K. Phi. Well then, to work; our cannon

shall be bent

K. Phi. A wonder, lady!-lo, upon thy wish,
Our messenger Chatillon is arriv'd.-
What England says, say briefly, gentle lord,
We coldly pause for thee; Chatillon, speak.
Chat. Then turn your forces from this paltry
siege,

And stir them up against a mightier task.
England, impatient of your just demands,
Hath put himself in arms; the adverse winds,
Whose leisure I have staid, have given him
To land his legions all as soon as I: [time
His marches are expedient; to this town,
His forces strong, his soldiers confident.
With him along is come the mother-queen,
An Até, stirring him to blood and strife;

With her her niece, the lady Blanch of Spain;
With them a bastard of the king deceas'd:
And all the unsettled humours of the land,-
Rash, inconsiderate, fiery voluntaries,
With ladies' faces,and fierce dragons' spleens,---
Have sold their fortunes at their native homes,
Bearing their birthrights proudly on their
backs,

To make a hazard of new fortunes here.
In brief, a braver choice of dauntless spirits,
Than now the English bottoms have waft o'er,
Did never float upon the swelling tide,
To do offence and scath* in Christendom.
The interruption of their churlish drums
[Drums beat.
Cuts off more circumstance: they are at hand,
To parley, or to fight; therefore, prepare.
K. Phi. How much unlook'd for is this ex-

pedition!

Aust. By how much unexpected, by so much We must awake endeavour for defence; For courage mounteth with occasion: Let them be welcome then, we are prepar'd. Enter King JoHN, ELINOR, BLANCH, the BASTARD, PEMBROKE, and Forces.

K. John. Peace be to France: if France in peace permit

Our just and lineal entrance to our own! If not; bleed France, and peace ascend to heaven!

Whiles we, God's wrathful agent, do correct Their proud contempt that beat his peace to heaven.

K. Phi. Peace be to England; if that war

return

From France to England, there to live in peace!
England we love; and, for that England's sake,
With burden of our armour here we sweat :

This toil of ours should be a work of thine;
But thou from loving England art so far,
That thou has under-wrought his lawful king,
Cut off the sequence; of posterity,
Outfaced infant state, and done a rape
Upon the maiden virtue of the crown.
Look here upon thy brother Geffrey's face ;-
These eyes, these brows, were moulded out of
his:

This little abstract doth contain that large,
Which died in Geffrey; and the hand of time
Shall draw this briefs into as huge a volume.
That Geffrey was thy elder brother born,
And this his son; England was Geffrey's right,
And this is Geffrey's: In the name of God,
How comes it then, that thou art call'd a king,
When living blood doth in these temples beat,
Which owe the crown that thou o'ermasterest?
K. John. From whom hast thou this great
commission, France,
To draw my auswer from thy articles?
K. Phi. From that supernal judge, that stirs
good thoughts

In any breast of strong authority,
To look into the blots and stains of right.
That judge hath made me guardian to this boy:
Under whose warrant, I impeach thy wrong;
And, by whose help, I mean to chastise it.

K. John. Alack, thou dost usurp authority.
K. Phi. Excuse; it is to beat usurping down.
Eli. Who is it, thou dost call usurper, France?
Const. Let me make answer;-thy usurping

Const. My bed was ever to thy son as true, As thine was to thy husband and this boy Liker in feature to his father Geffrey, Than thou and John in manners; being as like, As rain to water, or devil to his dam." My boy a bastard! By my soul, I think, His father never was so true begot; It cannot be, an if thou wert his mother. Eli. There's a good mother, boy, that blots thy father.

Const. There's a good grandam, boy, that would blot thee.

Aust. Peace!

Bast. Hear the crier.

Aust. What the devil art thou?

Bust. One that will play the devil, Sir, with

you,

An 'a may catch your hide and you alone.
You are the hare of whom the proverb goes,
Whose valour plucks dead lions by the beard;
I'll smoke your skin-coat, an i catch you right;
Sirrah, look to't; i'faith, I will, i'faith.
Blanch. O, well did he become that lion's
That did disrobe the lion of that robe! [robe,
Bast. It lies as sightly 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 ears

With this abundance of superfluous breath? K. Phi. Lewis, determine what we shall do

straight.

Lew. Women and fools, break off your conference.

King 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 coilt that's made for me.
Eli. His mother shames him so, poor boy, he

Being but the second generation
Removed from thy sin-conceiving wom..
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 th 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 will;

A woman's will; a canker'd grandam's will! K. Phi. Peace, lady; pause, or be more temperate:

It ill beseems this presence, to cry aim
To these ill-tuned repetitions.-
Some trumpet summon hither to the walls
These men of Angiers; let us hear them speak,
Whose title they admit, Arthur's or John's.
Trumpets sound. Enter CITIZENS upon the walls.
1 Cit. Who is it, that hath warned us to the
walls?

K. Phi. 'Tis France, for England.
K. John. England, for itself:
You men of Angiers, and my loving subjects,
K. Phi. You loving men of Angiers, Arthur's

subjects,

Our trumpet call'd you to this gentle parle.t K. John. For our advantage;-Therefore,

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, those sleeping
That as a waist do girdle you about, [stones,
By the compulsion of their ordnance

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
checks,-

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,
Forwearied in this action of swift speed,
Crave harbourage within your city walls.
K. Phi. When I have said, make answer to
us both.

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
Being no further enemy to you, [town;
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
prince :

And then our arms, like to a muzzled bear,
Save in aspect, 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 un-
bruis'd,

town,

We will bear home that lusty blood again,
Which here we came to spout against your
Ipeace.
And leave your children, wives, and you, in
But if you fondly pass our proffer'd offer,
'Tis not the rounduret 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?

1 Cit. In brief, we are the king of England's subjects;

For him, and in his right, we hold this town. K. John. Acknowledge then the king, and

let me in.

1 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 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.

1 Cit. Till you compound whose right is worthiest, [both. We, for the worthiest, hold the right from K. John. Then God forgive the sin of all those souls,

That to their everlasting residence,
Before the dew of evening fall, shall fleet,
In dreadful trial of our kingdom's king!
K. Phi. Amen, Amen!-Mount, chevaliers!
to arms!

Bust. St. George, that swing'd the dragon, and e'er since,

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,

In best appointment, all our regiments. Bast. Speed then, to take advantage of the field.

K. Phi. It shall be so;-[To LEWIS] and at the other hill

Command the rest to stand.--God, and our right! [Exeunt.

SCENE II.-The same.

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,

made

And let young Arthur, duke of Bretagne, in; Who, by the hand of France, this day hath [ther, Much work for tears in many an English moWhose sons lie 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.
Enter an English HERALD, with trumpets.
E. Her. Rejoice, you men of Angiers, ring
[approach,

your bells;

King John, your king and England's, doth
Commander 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 crest,
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.
Cit. Heralds, from off our towers we might

behold,

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 an-
swer'd blows;

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

even,

Both are alike; and both alike we like.
One must prove greatest: while they weigh so
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?

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 Unless thou let his silver water keep [shores; A peaceful progress in the ocean.

K. Phi. England, thou hast not sav'd one drop of blood,

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 bear,

Or add a royal number to the dead;
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,

* Judged, determined.

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 been forward first

To speak unto this city: What say you?
K. John. If that the Dauphin there, thy
princely son,

Can in this book of beauty read, I love,
Her dowry shall weigh equal with a queen:
For Anjou, and Fair Touraine, Maine, Poic-
And all that we upon this side the sea [tiers,
(Except this city now by us besieg'd)
Find liable to our crown and dignity,
Shall gild her bridal bed; and make her rich
In titles, honours, and promotions,
As she in beauty, education, blood,
Holds hand with any princess of the world.
K. Phi. What say'st thou, boy? look in the
lady's face.

Lew. I do, my lord, and in her eye I find A wonder, or a wondrous miracle, The shadow of myself form'd in her eye; Which, being but the shadow of your son, Becomes a sun, and makes your son a shadow: I do protest, I never lov'd myself, Till now infixed I beheld myself, Drawn in the flattering table of her eye. [Whispers with BLANCH. Bast. Drawn in the flattering table of her eye![brow!

Hang'd in the frowning wrinkle of her And quarter'd in her heart!-he doth espy Himself love's traitor: This is pity now, That hang'd, and drawn, and quarter'd, there should be,

In such a love, so vile a lout as he.

Blanch. My uncle's will, in this respect, is mine:

If he see aught in you, that makes him like,
That any thing he sees, which moves his liking,
I can with ease translate it to my will;
Or, if you will, (to speak more properly,)
I will enforce it easily to my love.
Further I will not flatter you, my lord,
That all I see in you is worthy love,
Than this, that notning do I see in you,
(Though churlish thoughts themselves should
be your judge,)

That I can find should merit any hate.

K. John. What say these young ones? What say you, my niece?

Blanch. That she is bound in honour still to do

What you in wisdom shall vouchsafe to say. K. John. Speak then, prince Dauphin; can you love this lady?

Lew. Nay, ask me if I can refrain from love; For I do love her most unfeignedly.

K. John. Then do I give Volquessen, Tou raine, Maine,

Poictiers, and Anjou, these five provinces,
With her to thee; and this addition more,
Full thirty thousand marks of English coin.
Philip of France, if thou be pleas'd withal,
Command thy son and daughter to join hands.
K. Phi. It likes us well;-Young princes,
close your hands.

Aust. And your lips too; for, I am well assur'd,

That I did so, when I was first assur❜d.+ K. Phi. Now, citizens of Angiers, ope your gates,

Let in that amity which you have made;
For at Saint Mary's chapel, presently,
The rites of marriage shall be solemniz'd.-
Is not the lady Constance in this troop?-
I know, she is not; for this match, made up,
Her presence would have interrupted much:--
Where is she and her son? tell me, who knows.
Lew. She is sad and passionate at your
highness' tent.

K. Phi. And, by my faith, this league, that we have made,

Will give her sadness very little cure.-
Brother of England, how may we content
This widow lady? In her right we came;
Which we, God knows, have turn'd another

way,

To our own vantage.t

[tagne,

K. John. We will heal up all For we'll create young Arthur duke of BreAnd earl of Richmond; and this rich fair town We make him lord of.--Call the lady Constance; Some speedy messenger bid her repair To our solemnity:-I trust we shall, If not fill up the measure of her will, Yet in some measure satisfy her so, That we shall stop her exclamation. Go we, as well as haste will suffer us, To this unlook'd for unprepared pomp.

[Exeunt all but the BASTARD.-The CITIZENS retire from the walls. Bast. Mad world! mad kings! mad composition!

John, to stop Arthur's title in the whole,
Hath willingly departed with a part:
And France, (whose armour conscience buck-
led on;

Whom zeal and charity brought to the field,
As God's own soldier,) rounded‡ in the ear
With that same purpose-changer, that sly
devil;

That broker, that still breaks the pate of faith;
That daily break-vow; he that wins of all,
Of kings, of beggars, old men, young men,

maids ;

Who having no external thing to lose [that, But the word maid,-cheats the poor maid of That smooth-faced gentleman, tickling com

modity,

Commodity, the bias of the world;
The world, who of itself is peised|| well,
Made to run even, upon even ground;
Till this advantage, this vile drawing bias,
This sway of motion, this commodity,
Makes it take head from all indifferency,
From all direction, purpose, course, intent:
And this same bias, this commodity,
This bawd, this broker, this all-changing word,
Clapp'd on the outward eye of fickle France,
Hath drawn him from his own determin'd aid,
From a resolv'd and honourable war,
To a most base and vile-concluded peace.--
And why rail I on this commodity?
But for because he hath not woo'd me yet:
Not that I have the power to clutch my hand,
When his fair angels** would salute my palm:
But for my hand, as unattempted yet,
Like a poor beggar, raileth on the rich.
Well, whiles I am a beggar, I will rail,
And say,-there is no sin, but to be rich;
And being rich, my virtue then shall be,
To say, there is no vice, but beggary :
Since kings break faith upon commodity,
Gain, be my lord! for I will worship thee!
[Exit.