And with her plagu'd; her fin, his injury;
Her injury, the beadle to her fin;

All punish'd in the perfon of this child,
And all for her; A plague upon her!

Eli. Thou unadvised fcold, I can produce
A will, that bars the title of thy fon.

Conft. Ay, who doubts that? a will! a wicked will; A woman's will; a cankred grandam's will!

K. Phil. Peace, lady; paufe, or be more temperate : It ill befeems this prefence, " to cry aim

To these ill-tuned repetitions.

Some trumpet fummon hither to the walls

These men of Angiers; let us hear them speak,
Whofe title they admit, Arthur's, or John's.

[Trumpets found.

Enter Citizens upon the walls.

1 Cit. Who is it, that hath warn'd us to the walls? K. Phil. 'Tis France, for England.

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,

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 fpit forth
Their iron indignation 'gainst your walls:

"to cry aim]-to give a fanction.

MERRY WIVES OF WINDSOR, Vol. I. p. 213. Ford.

▾ For our advantage ;]—(as I trust.)

All

All preparation for a bloody siege,

And merciless proceeding by these French,
Confronts 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 compulfion of their ordinance
By this time from their fixed beds of lime
Had been dishabited, 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 countercheck before your gates,
To save unscratch'd your city's threaten'd cheeks,➡
Behold, the French, amaz'd, vouchsafe a parle :
And now, instead of bullets wrap'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; whofe labour'd fpirits,
'Fore-weary'd in this action of swift speed,
Crave harbourage within your city walls.

K. Pbil. When I have faid, make anfwer to us both,
Lo, in this right hand, whose protection
Is most 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

In warlike march thefe greens before your town;
Being no further enemy to you,

winking gates;]-that fear, or are averfe to opening; in the ftafe

of an eye, that dreads annoyance.

* a countercbeck]-preventive, obstruction.

? Fore-weary'd]-over-fatigued, quite spent.

Than

Than the constraint of hospitable zeal,
In the relief of this oppreffed 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 afpect, have all offence feal'd up;
Our cannons' malice vainly shall be spent
Against the invulnerable clouds of heaven;
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 fpout against your town,
And leave your children, wives, and you, in peace.
But if you fondly pafs our proffer'd offer,

'Tis not the roundure of your old fac'd walls

Can hide you from our meffengers of war;

Though all these English, and their difcipline,

Were harbour'd in their rude circumference.
Then, tell us, fhall your city call us lord,
In that behalf which we have challeng'd it?
Or fhall we give the fignal to our rage,
And stalk in blood to our poffession ?

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. 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.

that owes it;]-whofe right it is. roundure-circular enclosure.

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

-

K. Philip. As many, and as well-born bloods as thofe,Faulc. Some, baftards too.

K. Phil.-Stand in his face to contradict his claim. Cit. 'Till you compound whofe right is worthieft, We, for the worthieft, 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!-Mount, chevaliers! to arms! Faulc. Saint George,-that fwing'd the dragon, and e'er fince

Sits on his horfeback at mine hoftefs' door,

Teach us fome fence!-Sirrah, were I at home,

At your den, firrah, with your lioness,

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 best appointment, all our regiments.

Faulc. Speed then, to take advantage of the field.

K. Phil. It fhall be fo;-and at the other hill Command the rest to stand.-God, and our right!

SCENE

II.

[Exeunt.

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

VOL. III.

U

Much

Much work for tears in many an English mother,
Whose fons lye fcatter'd on the bleeding ground:
Many a widow's husband groveling lies,
Coldly embracing the difcolour'd earth;
And victory, with little loss, doth play
Upon the dancing banners of the French;
Who are at hand, triumphantly difplay'd,
To enter conquerors, and to proclaim
Arthur of Bretagne, England's king, and yours.

Enter English Heralds, 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!

b

Their armours, that march'd hence fo filver-bright,
Hither return all gilt with Frenchmen's blood;
There ftuck 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 huntímen, 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 towers we might behold,
From first to laft, the onset and retire
Of both your armies; whofe equality
By our best eyes cannot be cenfured:

d

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

here thy bunters ftand,

Sign'd in thy spoil, and crimson'd in thy lethe."
JULIUS CAESAR, Act III. S. 1. Ant.

• cenfured :]-discriminated.

Strength