« ZurückWeiter »
And give you entrance; but without this match, The fea enraged is not half fo deaf,
Lions fo confident, mountains and rocks
So free from motion; no, not death himself
As we to keep this City.
Faulc. Here's a stay 3,
That shakes the rotten carcafs of old Death
As maids of thirteen do of puppy-dogs.
Eli. Son, lift to this conjunction, make this match, Give with our Neice a dowry large enough;
For by this knot thou fhalt fo furely tie
Thy now unfur'd affurance to the Crown,
That yon green boy fhall have no Sun to ripe
Mark, how they whisper; urge them, while their fouls
Left zeal now melted by the windy breath
Cit. Why answer not the double Majefties
K. Philip. Speak, England, firft, that hath been forward first
To fpeak unto this City: what fay you?
K. John. If that the Dauphin there, thy Princely fon,
Except this City now by us befieg'd,
As fhe in beauty, education, blood,
Holds hand with any Princess of the world:
K. Philip. What fay'ft thou, boy? look in the lady's
Lewis. I do, my lord, and in her eye I find
9 Left zeal now melted. -] We have here a very unusual, and, I think, not very just image of zeal, which in its highest degree is reprefented by others as flame, but by Shakespeare as a froft. To reprefs zeal, in the language of others, is to cool, in Shak fpeare's to melt it; when it exerts its utmoft power it is commonly faid to flame, but by ShakeSpeare to be congealed.
Becomes a Sun, and makes your fon á shadow.
Drawn in the flatt'ring table of her eye.
[Whispering with Blanch.
Faulc. Drawn in the flatt'ring table of her eye! Hang'd in the frowning wrinkle of her brow! And quarter'd in her heart! he doth espie Himself love's traitor: this is pity now,
That hang'd, and drawn, and quarter'd, there fhould be, In fuch a Love, fo vile a lout as he.
Blanch. My uncle's will in this refpect is mine. If he fee aught in you, that makes him like, That any thing he fees, which moves his liking, I can with eafe tranflate it to my will: Or if you will, to speak more properly, I will enforce it easily to my love. Further I will not flatter you, my lord, That all I fee in you is worthy love, Than this; that nothing do I fee in you (Though churlish thoughts themselves fhould be your judge)
That I can find fhould merit any hate.
K. John. What fay these young Ones? what say you, my Niece?
Blanch. That fhe is bound in Honour ftill to do What you in wifdom ftill vouchsafe to say.
K. John. Speak then, Prince Dauphin, can you love this lady?
Lewis. Nay, afk me, if I can refrain from love? For I do love her moft unfeignedly.
K. John. Then do I give Volqueffen, Touraine, Maine, Poitiers, 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. Philip. It likes us well; young Princes, clofe your hands.
Auft. And your lips too; for, I am well affur'd, That I did fo, when I was first affur'd.
K. Philip. Now, Citizens of Angiers, ope your gates,
I know, fhe is not; for this Match made up
K. Philip. And, by my faith, this league, that we have made,
Will give her fadness very little Cure.
Brother of England, how may we content
K. John. We will heal up all,
For we'll create young Arthur Duke of Britain,
[Exeunt all but Faulconbridge.
Faulce. Mad world, mad Kings, mad compofition!
John, to stop Arthur's Title in the whole,
And France, whofe armour Confcience buckled on,
Of Kings, of beggars, old men, young men, maids,
But the word Maid, cheats the poor maid of that ;
The world, which of itself is poifed well,