K. John. My life as foon.-I do defie thee, France. Arthur of Britain, 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.
Conft. 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 coil, that's made for me.
Eli. His mother fhames him fo, poor boy, he weeps. Conft. Now fhame upon you, whe're the does or not His grandam's wrong, and not his mother's fhames, Draws thofe heav'n-moving pearls from his poor eyes, Which heav'n fhall take in nature of a fee:
Ay, with these crystal beads heav'n shall be brib'd
To do him juftice, and revenge on you.
Eli. Thou monftrous flanderer of heav'n and earth!
Conf. Thou monftrous injurer of heav'n and earth,
Call me not flanderer; thou, and thine, ufurp
The domination, royalties and rights
Of this oppreffed boy; this is thy eldest fon's fon,
Infortunate in nothing but in thee:
Thy fins are visited in this poor child;
The canon of the law is laid on him ;
Being but the second generation
Removed from thy fin-conceiving womb.
K. John. Bedlam, have done.
Conft. I have but this to say,
That he is not only plagued for her fin,
But God hath made her fin and her the plague
On this removed iffue, plagu'd for her,
And with her plague her fin; his injury,
Her injury, the beadle to her fin,
All punish'd in the person of this child,
And all for her, a plague upon her!
Eli. Thou unadvis'd fcold, I can produce
A will, that bars the title of thy fon.
Conft. Ay, who doubts that? a 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 thefe ill-tuned repetitions.
Some trumpet fummon hither to the walls
Thefe men of Angiers; let us hear them speak,
Whose title they admit, Arthur's or John's.
Enter a Citizen upon the Walls.
Cit. Who is it, that hath warn'd us to the walls?
K. Philip. 'Tis France, for England.
K. John. England for itself;
You men of Angiers and my loving fubjects
K. Philip. 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 firft:
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
And merciless proceeding, by thefe French,
Confront your city's eyes, your winking gates;
And, but for our approach, thofe fleeping stones,
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 dishabited, and wide havock made
For bloody power to rufh 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 threatned cheeks)
Behold, the French, amaz'd, vouchfafe a parle
And now, instead of bullets wrap'd in fire,
To make a fhaking fever in your walls,
They shoot but calm words folded up in smoak,
To make a faithlefs error in your ears;
Which truft accordingly, kind citizens;
And let in us, your King, whofe labour'd fpirits,
Fore-weary'd in this action of swift speed,
Crave harbourage within your city-walls.
K. Philip. When I have faid, make answer to us both. Lo! in this right hand, whofe 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 these greens before
Being no further enemy to you,
Than the conftraint of hofpitable zeal,
In the relief of this oppreffed child,
Religiously provokes. Be pleafed 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 unvext 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-fac'd walls
Can hide you from our meffengers of war:
Tho' all thefe 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 ftalk in blood to our poffeffion?
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.)
K. John. To verify our title with their lives.
K. Philip. As many, and as well-born bloods as thofe
Faulc. (Some bastards too.)
K. Philip. Stand in his face to contradict his claim. Cit. Till you compound, whofe right is worthieft, We for the worthiest hold the right from both.
K. John. Then God forgive the fin of all those fouls, That to their everlasting refidence,
Before the dew of evening fall, fhall fleet,
In dreadful tryal of our kingdom's King!
K. Philip. Amen, Amen.-
Faulc. Saint George, that fwing'd the dragon, and e'er
Sits on his horseback at mine hostess' 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.
Faulc. O, tremble; for you hear the Lion roar. K. John. Up higher to the plain, where we'll set forth In beft appointment all our regiments.
Faulc. Speed then to take th' advantage of the field. K. Philip. It fhall be fo; and at the other hill Command the reft to ftand. God, and our right!
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 lye fcatter'd on the bleeding ground:
And many a widow's husband groveling lyes,
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 display'd,
To enter conquerors; and to proclaim
Arthur of Bretagne, England's King, and yours.
Enter 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 march'd hence fo filver-bright,
Hither return all gilt in Frenchmens' blood.
There stuck no plume in any English Crest,
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 huntsmen, 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 firft to laft, the Onfet and Retire
Of both your armies, whofe equality
By our beft eyes cannot be cenfured;
Blood hath bought blood, and blows have anfwer'd blows;
Strength match'd with ftrength, and power confronted
Both are alike, and both alike we like;
One must prove greatest. While they weigh fo even, We hold our town for neither; yet for both.
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