1 Cit. Hear us, great kings: vouchsafe a while to

stay,

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.
1 Cit. That daughter there of Spain, the lady Blanch,
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 than in Blanch?
If zealous love should go in search of virtue,
Where should he find it purer than in Blanch?
If love ambitious sought a match of birth,
Whose veins bound richer blood than lady Blanch?
Such as she is, in beauty, virtue, birth,

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 seas; Talks as familiarly of roaring lions,

As maids of thirteen do of puppy-dogs!

What cannoneer begot this lusty blood?

He speaks plain cannon, fire, and smoke, and bounce; 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;

Mark, how they whisper: urge them, while their souls

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, Poitiers,

And all that we 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
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!—

Hang'd in the frowning wrinkle of her brow!—

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.
Farther I will not flatter you, my lord,
That all I see in you is worthy love,

Than this, that nothing 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, Touraine, 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.

K. John. We will heal up all,

For we'll create young Arthur duke of Bretagne,
And 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!