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Be by fome certain King purg'd and depos'd.
Faule. By heav'n, the Scroyles of Angiers flout

Kings,

And ftand fecurely on their battlements,
As in a Theatre, whence they gape and point
At your industrious Scenes and Acts of death.
You royal prefences, be rul'd by me;
Do like the Mutines of Jerufalem,

you,

Be friends a while, and both conjointly bend
Your sharpeft deeds of malice on this town.
By eaft and weft let France and England mount
Their batt'ring cannon charged to the mouths;
Till their foul-fearing clamours have braul'd down
The flinty ribs of this contemptuous City.

I'd play inceffantly upon these jades ;

Even till unfenced defolation

Leave them as naked as the vulgar air.
That done, diffever your united strengths,
And part your mingled Colours once again;
Turn face to face, and bloody point to point.
Then in a moment fortune fhall cull forth
Out of one fide her happy minion;

To whom in favour fhe fhall give the day,
And kifs him with a glorious Victory.
How like you this wild counfel, mighty States?
Smacks it not fomething of the Policy?

K. John. Now by the sky, that hangs above our
heads,

I like it well. France, fhall we knit our Pow'rs,
And lay this Angiers even with the ground,
Then, after, fight who fhall be King of it?
Faule. And if thou haft the mettle of a King,
Being wrong'd as we are by this peevish town,
Turn thou the mouth of thy artillery,
As we will ours, against these fawcy walls';
And when that we have dafh'd them to the ground,
Why, then defie each other; and, pell-mell,

Make

Make work upon ourselves for heav'n or hell.
K. Philip. Let it be fo; fay, where will you affault?
K. John. We from the weft will fend deftruction
Into this City's bosom.

Auft. I from the north.

K. Philip. Our thunder from the fouth Shall rain their drift of bullets on this town.

Faulc. O prudent difcipline! from North to South; Auftria and France fhoot in each other's mouth. I'll ftir them to it; come, away, away!

Cit. Hear us, great Kings; vouchfafe a while to stay,

And I fhall fhew you peace, and fair-fac'd league;
Win you this city without ftroak or wound;
Rescue those breathing lives to die in beds,
That here come facrifices for the field;
Perfever not, but hear me, mighty Kings.

K. John. Speak on, with favour; we are bent to
hear.

Git. That daughter there of Spain, the lady Blanch,
Is near to England; look upon the years
Of Lewis the Dauphin, and that lovely maid.
If lufty love fhould go in queft of beauty,
Where should he find it fairer than in Blanch?
If zealous love should go in fearch of virtue,
Where should he find it purer than in Blanch?
If love, ambitious, fought a match of Birth,
Whofe veins bound richer blood than lady Blanch?
Such as fhe is, in beauty, virtue, birth,

Is the young Dauphin every way compleat:
If not compleat, (a) oh fay, he is not fhe;
And the again wants nothing, (to name Want,)
If Want it be not, that fhe is not he.
He is the half part of a bleffed man,
Left to be finifhed by fuch a She:
And fhe a fair divided Excellence,
[(a)ob. Oxford Editor-Vulg. of]

Whofe

Whofe fulness of perfection lies in him.
Oh! two fuch filver currents, when they join,
Do glorifie the banks that bound them in:

And two fuch fhores, to two fuch streams made one,
Two fuch controlling bounds fhall you be, Kings,
To thefe two Princes, if you marry them.
This union fhall do more than battery can,
To our faft-clofed gates: for at this match,
With fwifter Spleen than Powder can enforce,
The mouth of paffage fhall we fling wide ope,
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
In mortal fury half so peremptory,

As we to keep this City.

Faulc. Here's a ftay,

That shakes the rotten carcafs of old Death

Out of his rags.

Here's a large mouth, indeed,

That fpits forth death, and mountains, rocks and feas; Talks as familiarly of roaring Lions,

As maids of thirteen do of puppy-dogs.

What Cannoneer begot this lufty blood?

He speaks plain cannon-fire, and fmoak and bounce,
He gives the baftinado with his tongue:
Our ears are cudgel'd; not a word of his,
But buffets better than a fift of France;
Zounds! I was never fo bethumpt with words,
Since I first call'd my brother's father dad.

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
The bloom, that promifeth a mighty fruit.
I fee a Yielding in the looks of France;

Mark, how they whifper; urge them, while their fouls

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Are capable of this ambition;

Left zeal now melted by the windy breath
Of foft petitions, pity and remorfe,
Cool and congeal again to what it was.

Cit. Why anfwer not the double Majefties
This friendly Treaty of our threaten'd town?

K. Philip. Speak, England, firft, that hath been
forward firft

To speak unto this City: what fay you?

K. John. If that the Dauphin there, thy Princely fon, Can in this book of beauty read, I love; Her dowry fhall weigh equal with a Queen. For Anjou, and fair Touraine, Maine, Poitiers, And all that we upon this fide the sea, Except this City now by us befieg'd, Find liable to our Crown and Dignity, Shall gild her bridal bed; and make her rich In titles, honours, and promotions; As the in beauty, education, blood, Holds hand with any Princess of the world.

K. Philip. What fay'ft thou, boy? look in the lady's
face.

Lewis. I do, my lord, and in her eye I find
A wonder, or a wondrous miracle;
The fhadow of myself form'd in her eye;
Which, being but the fhadow of your fon,
Becomes a Sun, and makes your fon a fhadow.
I do proteft, I never lov'd myself,

Till now, infixed, I beheld myself,

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.

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 ease translate 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 fay you,
my Neice?

Blanch. That fhe is bound in Honour' ftill to do
What you in wisdom ftill vouchsafe to say.

K. John. Speak then, Prince Dauphin, can you love
this lady?

Lewis. Nay, ask 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,
Let in that amity which you have made:
For at Saint Mary's Chapel prefently

The Rights of Marriage fhall be folemniz'd.
Is not the lady Conftance in this troop?
I know, fhe is not; for this Match made up
Her prefence would have-interrupted much.

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