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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 neice, the lady Blanch of Spain ;
With them a bastard of the King deceas'd,
And all th’ unsettled humours of the land;
Rash, inconsid’rate, 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 scathe in christendom.
The interruption of their churlish drums [Drums beal.
Cuts off more circumstance; they are at hand.
To parly, or to fight, therefore prepare.
K. Philip. How much unlook'd for is this ex-

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 prepard.

Enter King of England, Faulconbridge, Elinor, Blanch,

Pembroke, and others.
K. John. Peace be to France, if France in peace

Our just and lineal entrance to our own:
If not, bleed France, and peace ascend to heav'n.
Whilft we, God's wrathful agent, do correct
Their proud contempt that beats his peace to heav'n.

K. Philip. 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 burthen 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 haft under-wrought its lawful King ;
Cut off the sequence of pofterity;
Out-faced 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 dy'd 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 son ; England was Geffrey's right,
And this is Geffrey's; in the name of God,
How comes it then, that thou art call'd a King,
When living blood doth in these temples beat,
Which own the crown that thou o'er-mastereft?
K. John. From whom haft thou this great commif-

sion, France, To draw my answer to thy articles ? K. Philip. From that supernal judge, that stirs good

In any breast of strong authority,
To look into the bolts 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. Philip. Excuse it, 'tis to beat usurping down.

. Who is't, that thou dost call usurper, France ? Const. Let me make answer: thy usurping son.

Eli. Out, insolent ! thy bastard shall be King, That thou may'st 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, Dd 2


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.
Aut. Peace
Faulc. Hear the crier.
Auft. What the devil art thou ?

Faulo. 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 ;
l'll smoak your skin-coat, an I catch you right;
Sirrah, look to't ; i'faith, I will, i' faith.

Blancb. O, well did he become that Lion's robe, That did disrobe the Lion of that robe.

Faulc. It lyes as sightly on the back of him,
As great Aicides' 'Thews upon an afs;
But, ass, I'll take that burthen from your back,
Or lay on that, shall make your shoulders crack.

Auft. What cracker is this fame, that deafs our ears
With this abundance of superfluous breath?
King Philip, determine what we shall do strait,
K. Philip. Women and fools, break off your con-

King Jobn, this is the very fum of all;
England, and Ireland, Anjou, Touraine, Maine,
In right of Arthur I do claim of thee:
Wilt thou resign them, and lay down thy arms ?

K. John. My life as soon. -- I do defie thee, France.
Arthur of Britain, yield thee to my hand;
And out of my dear love I'll give thee more,
i Sherws] Spelt right by Mr. Theobald.


'Than e'er the coward-hand of France can win.
Submit thee, boy

Eli. Come to thy grandam, child.

Cont. 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 shames him so, poor boy, he weeps.

Const. Now shame upon you, where she does or no ! His grandam's wrong, and not his mother's shames, Draws those 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 justice, and revenge on you.

Eli. Thou monstrous Nanderer of heav'n and earth!

Conjt. Thou monstrous injurer of heav'n and earth! Call me not Nanderer ; thou, and thine, usurp The domination, royalties and rights Of this oppressed boy ; this is thy eldest son's son. 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 is not only plagued for her sin,
But God hath made her fin and her the plague
On this removed issue, plagu'd for her,
And with her plague her fin ; his injury,
Her injury, the beadle to her sin,
All punish'd in the person of this child,
And all for her, a plague upon her!
Eli. Thou unadvisd scold, I can produce

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A will, that bars the title of thy son.

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

K. Pbil. Peace, Lady; pause, or be more temperate; It ill befeems 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.

[Trumpet sounds. SC C Ε Ν Ε III.

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 subjectsK. Pbilip. You loving men of Angiers, Arlbur's

subjects, 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 spit forth Their iron indignation ’gainst your walls: All preparations for a bloody fiege 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 waste do girdle you about, By the compulsion 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.


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