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 deceased:
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 unlooked for is this expedition!
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 prepared.
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 re
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 hast under-wrought his lawful king,
Cut off the sequence of posterity,
Outfacéd 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 brief 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 called 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 answer 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 son.
Eli. Out, insolent! thy bastard shall be king,
That thou mayst be a queen, and check the world!
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.
What the devil art thou? Bast. 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 robe That did disrobe the lion of that 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
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,
Arthur of Bretagne, yield thee to my hand;
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 bribed
To do him justice, and revenge on you.
Eli. Thou monstrous slanderer of heaven and
Const. Thou monstrous injurer of heaven and earth!
Call not me slanderer: thou and thine usurp
The dominations, royalties, and rights
Of this oppressed boy. This is thy eldest son's
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, plagued for her,
And with her plague, her sin; his injury
Her injury, the beadle to her sin :
All punished in the person of this child,
And all for her: a plague upon her!
Eli. Thou unadviséd 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 cankered 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. 1st Cit. Who is it that hath warned us to the walls?
K. Phi. "T is France for England.
You men of Angiers, and my loving subjects,— K. Phi. You loving men of Angiers, Arthur's subjects,
Our trumpet called you to this gentle parle,—
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 marched 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 stones
That as a waist do girdle you about,
By the compulsion of their ordnance
By this time from their fixéd 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 unscratched your city's threatened cheeks,—
Behold, the French, amazed, vouchsafe a parle:
And now, instead of bullets wrapped 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 laboured 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 vowed 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
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 prince :
And then our arms, like to a muzzled bear,
Save in aspéct, have all offence sealed up;
Our cannons' malice vainly shall be spent
Against the invulnerable clouds of heaven;
And, with a blessed and unvexed retire,
With unhacked swords and helmets all unbruised,
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 proffered offer,
"Tis not the roundure of your old-faced walls
Can hide you from our messengers of war,
Though all these English and their discipline
Were harboured in their rude circumference.
Then tell us, shall your city call us lord,
In that behalf which we have challenged it;
Or shall we give the signal to our rage,
And stalk in blood to our possession?
1st 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
1st Cit. That can we not: but he that proves the king
To him will we prove loyal: till that time
Have we rammed 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. 1st 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 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:
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 lie scattered on the bleeding ground:
Many a widow's husband grovelling lies,
Coldly embracing the discoloured earth;
And victory, with little loss, doth play
Upon the dancing banners of the French;
Who are at hand, triumphantly displayed,
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 your bells:
King John, your king and England's, doth approach,
Commander of this hot malicious day.
Their armours, that marched hence so silver
Hither return all gilt with Frenchmen's blood;
There stuck no plume in any English crest,
That is removéd by a staff of France;
Our colours do return in those same hands
That did display them when we first marched forth;
And, like a jolly troop of huntsmen, come
Our lusty English, all with purpled hands,
Dyed 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 censuréd:
Blood hath bought blood, and blows have an-
swered blows;
Strength matched with strength, and power confronted power:
Both are alike; and 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?
Say, shall the current of our right run on? Whose passage, vexed with thy impediment, Shall leave his native channel, and o'er-swell With course disturbed even thy confining shores, Unless thou let his silver water keep
A peaceful progress to the ocean.
K. Phi. England, thou hast not saved 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,
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 undetermined 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!
K. John. Whose party do the townsmen yet admit?
K. Phi. Speak, citizens, for England: who's your king?
1st Cit. The King of England, when we know the king.
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.
1st Cit. A greater power than we denies all this; And, till it be undoubted, we do lock
Our former scruple in our strong-barred gates:
Kinged of our fears; until our fears, resolved,
Be by some certain king purged and 'deposed.
Bast. By heaven, these scroyles of Angiers
flout you, Kings;
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 ruled 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, chargéd to the mouths,
Till their soul-fearing clamours have brawled down
The flinty ribs of this contemptuous city :
I'd play incessantly upon these jades,
Even till unfencéd 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?
K. John. Now, by the sky that hangs above our heads,
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. An if thou hast the metal of a king, Being wronged 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 dashed 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?
K. John. We from the west will send destruction Into 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. [aside]. O prudent discipline! From north to south,
Austria and France shoot in each other's mouth: I'll stir them to it.-Come, away, away! 1st Cit. Hear us, great Kings: vouchsafe awhile
And I shall shew 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.
1st 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 blesséd 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
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 enragéd 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.
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
As maids of thirteen do of puppy-dogs!
What cannonier begot this lusty blood?
He speaks plain cannon, fire and smoke and
bounce;
He gives the bastinado with his tongue;
Our ears are cudgelled; not a word of his
But buffets better than a fist of France:
Zounds! I was never so bethumped with words
Since I first called my brother's father dad.
Eli. Son, list to this conjunction, make this
match;
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