Of thy unnatural uncle, English John.

Embrace him, love him, give him welcome hither.
Arth God thall 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.
Lewis. A noble boy! who would not do thee right?
Auft. Upon thy cheek lay I this zealous kiís,
As feal to this indenture of my love;
That to my home i will no more return,
Till Angiers and the right thou haft in France,
Together with that pale, that white-faced fhore,
Whofe foot fpurns back the ocean's roaring tides,
And coops from other lands their iflanders;
Ev'n till that England, hedged in with the main,
That water-walled bulwark, fill, fecure
And confident from foreign purposes,

Ev'n 'till that outmoft corner of the Weft,
Salute thee for her King. Till then, fair boy,
Will I not think of home, but follow arms.

Conft. O, take his mother's thanks, a widow's
thanks,

Till your ftrong hand shall help to give him ftrength, To make a more requital to your love.

Auft. The peace of Heav'n is theirs who lift their fwords

In fuch a juft and charitable war.

K. Phi. Well then, to work; our engines fhall
be bent

Against the brows of this refifting town;
Call for our chiefeft men of difcipline,
To cull the plots of beft advantages.

We'll lay before this town our royal bones,

Wade to the market-place in Frenchmens' blood, But we will make it fubject to this boy.

Conf. Stay for an answer to your embally, Left unadvifed you ftain your fwords with blood. My Lord Chatilion may from England bring That right in peace, which here we urge in war; And then we shall repent each drop of blood That hot rafh haste so indirectly fhed.

Enter CHATILION.

K. Phi. A wonder, Lady! Lo, upon thy with, Our meffenger Chatilion is arrived.

What England fays, fay briefly, gentle Lord,
We coldly paufe for thee. Chatilion, speak.
Chat. Then turn your forces from this paukry
fiege,

And stir them up against a mightier task.
England, impatient of your juit demands,
Hath put himself in arms; the adverfe winds,
Whofe leisure I have ftaid, have given him time
To land his legions all as foon as I.

His marches are expedient to this town,
His forces ftrong, his foldiers confident.
With him along is come the Mother-Queen;
An Até, ftirring him to blood and ftrife.
With her, her niece, the Lady Blanch of Spain;
With them a bastard of the King deceased,
And all th' unfettled humours of the land;
Rafh, in nfid'rate, fiery voluntaries.

With ladies faces, and fierce dragons fpleens,
Have fold 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 fpirits,
Than now the English bottoms have waft o'er,
Did never float upon the fwelling tide,

To do offence and fkaith 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 expe dition!

Auft. By how much unexpected, by so much. We must awake endeavour for defence; For courage mounteth with occafion: Let them be welcome then, we are prepared. Enter King of England, FAULCONBRIDGE, ELINOR, BLANCH, PEMBROKE, and others.

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

Our juft and lineal entrance to our own:
If not, bleed France, and peace afcend to Heav'n!
Whilft we, God's wrathful agent, do correct

Their proud contempt that beats 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 fake, With burden of our armour here we fweat; This toil of ours should bẹ a work of thine; But thou from loving England art fo far, That thou haft under-wrought its lawful King, Cut off the fequence of pofterity,

Cut-faced infant ftate, and done a rape

Upon the maiden virtue of the crown.
Look here upon thy brother Geffrey's face,

Thefe eyes, thefe brows, were moulded out of his;
This little abftract doth contain that large
Which died in Geffrey; and the hand of Time
Shall draw this brief into as large a volume.
That Geffrey was thy elder brother born,

And this his fon; 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 thefe temples beat,
Which own the crown that thou o'er-mafterest ?
K. John. From whom haft thou this great com-
miffion, France,

To daw my answer to thy articles?

K. Phi. From that fupernal Judge, that firs In any breast of ftrong authority, [good thoughts To lock into the blots and ftains of right.. That Judge hath made me guardian to this boy; Under whofe warrant I impeach thy wrong, And by whofe help I mean to chaltise it.

K. John. Alack, thou doft ufurp authority. K. Phi. Excufe it, 'tis to beat ufurping down. Eli. Who is't that thou doft call ufurper, France? Conft. Let me make anfwer: thy ufurping fon.-Eli. Out, infolent! thy baftard fhall be King, That thou mayeft be a Queen, and check the world! Conft. My bed was ever to thy fon 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 baftard! by my foul, I think
His father never was fo true begot;

It cannot be, an if thou wert his mother.

Eli. There's a good mother, boy, that blots thy father.

Conft. There's a good grandam, boy, that would

blot thee.

Auft. Peace,----

Faulc. Hear the crier.

Auft. What the devil art thou?

Faule. 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,. Whofe valour plucks dead lions by the beard; I'll fmoak your fkin-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 difrobe the lion of that robe.

Faulc. It lyes as fightly on the back of him, (8) As great Alcides' fhews upon an ass;

But, afs, I'll take that burden from your back,
Or lay on that fhall make your shoulders crack.
Auft. What cracker is this fame, that deafs our
With this abundance of fuperfluous breath? [ears
King Philip, determine what we fhall do ftreight.

K. Phi. Women and fools, break off your confe-
King John, this is the very fum of all; [rence.
England, and Ireland, Anjou, Touraine, Maine,
In right of Arthur I do claim of thee:
Wilt thou refign them, and lay down thy arms?
K. John. My life as foon.--I'do defy thee, France.
Arthur of Britain, yield thee to my hand;
And out of my dear love I'll give thee more

(8) It lyes as fightly on the back of him,

Asgreat Alcides' fhoes upon an afs;] But why his froes, in the name of propriety? For let Hercules and his shoes have been really as big as they were ever fuppofed to be, yet they (I mean the fhoes) would not have been an over load for an afs. I am perfuaded I have retrieved the true reading; and let us obferve the juftnefs of the comparison. Dow. Faulconbridge, in his refentment, would say this to Auftria: "That lion's fkin, which my great father King "Richard once wore, looks as uncouthly on thy back, as. "that other noble hide, which was borne by Hercules, "would look on the back of an afs." A double allufion was intended; first, to the fable of the afs in the lion's fkin; then Richard I, is finely fet in competition with Ab cides, as Auftria is fatirically coupled with the afs.