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K. Phil. Let it be so :-Say, where will you

assault? K. John. We from the west will send destruction Into this city's bosom.

Aust. I from the north.

K. Phil. Our thunder from the south Shall rain their drift of bullets on this town.

Faul. O prudent discipline! From north to south Austria and France shoot in each other's mouth:I'll stir them to it :-Come, away, away! Cit. Hear us, great Kings: Vouchsafe a while to

stay, And I shall show you peace, and fair-fac'd league ; Win

you this city without stroke, or wound. Persever not, but hear me, mighty Kings. K. John. Speak on, with favour; we are bent to

hear. Cit. That daughter there of Spain, the Lady

Blanch, Is near to England: Look upon the years Of Lewis the Dauphin, and that lovely maid. 0, two such silver currents, when they join, Do glorify the banks that bound them in: Two such controlling bounds shall you be, Kings, To these two Princes, if you marry them. This union shall do more than battery can, To our fast-closed gates : Without this match, The sea enraged is not half so deaf, Lions more confident, mountains and rocks More free from motion; no, not death himself In mortal fury half so peremptory, As we to keep this city.

Faul. Here's a stay. That shakes the rotten carcase of old death Out of his rags ! Here's a large mouth, indeed, That spits forth death, and mountains, rocks, and seas; Talks as-familiarly of roaring lions,


As maids of thirteen do of puppy-dogs !
What cannoneer begot this lusty blood ?
Zounds! I was never so bethump'd with words
Since I first callid my brother's father, dad.

Cit. Why answer not the double majesties
This friendly treaty of our threaten’d town?
K. Phil. What say'st thou, boy ? look in the lady's

Lew. I do, my lord; and in her eye I find
A wonder, or a wondrous miracle,
The shadow of myself,
Drawn in the flattering table of her eye.

{King John, King Philip, Lewis, and

BLANCH, talk apart.] Faul. Drawn in the flattering table of her eye! Hang’d in the frowning wrinkle of her brow! And quarter'd in her heart !-he doth espy Himself love's traitor : This is pity now, That hang’d, and drawn, and quarter'd, there should

be, In such a love, so vile a lout as he. K. John. What'say these young ones? What say you, my

niece? Blan. That she is bound in honour still to do What you in wisdom still vouchsafe to say. K. John. Speak then, Prince Dauphin; can you

love this lady? Lew. Nay, ask me if I can refrain from love; For I do love her most unfeignedly. K. John. Philip of France, if thou be pleas'd

withal, Command thy son and daughter to join hands.

K. Phil. It likes us well;-Young Princes, close


your hands.

Now, Citizens of Angiers, ope your gates,
Let in that amity which you have made.-

[Exeunt Citizens. Is not the Lady Constance in this troop?



Lew. She is sad and passionate, at your highness'tent. K. Phil. Brother of England, how may we con

tent This widow lady? [The Citizens open the Gates, and enter, to pre

sent the Keys of the Town. K. John. We will heal


all :
For we'll create young Arthur Duke of Bretagne,
And Earl of Richmond; and this rich fair town
We make him lord of.-Call the Lady Constance,
Some speedy messenger; bid her repair
To our solemnity.--

[Exit SALISBURY. Go we, as well as haste will suffer us, To this unlook'd-for, unprepared, pomp. (Flourish of Drums and Trumpels.-Exeunt all

but FauLCONBRIDGE. Faul. Mad world! mad kings ! mad composition! John, to stop Arthur's title in the whole, Hath willingly departed with a part: And France, (whose armour conscience buckled on, Whom zeal and charity brought to the field, As Heaven's own soldier,) rounded in the ear With that same purpose-changer, that sly devil, That smooth-fac'd gentleman, tickling commodity,This bawd, this broker, this all-changing word, Clapp'd on the outward eye of fickle France, Hath drawn him from his own determin'd aid, From a resolv'd and honourable war, To a most base and vile concluded peace.And why rail I on this commodity ? But for because he hath not woo'd me yet: Not that I have the power to clutch my hand, When his fair angels would salute my palm; But for my hand, as unattempted yet, Like a poor beggar, raileth on the rich. Well, whiles I am a beggar, I will rail, And say,—there is no sin, but to be rich; And being rich, my virtue then shall be,

To say,—there is no vice, but beggary:
Since kings break faith upon commodity,
Gain, be my lord; for I will worship thee;





The FRENCH King's Tent.


Con. Gone to be married ! gone to swear a peace! False blood to false blood join'd! Gone to be friends! Shall Lewis have Blanch? and Blanch those pro

vinces ?
It is not so ; thou hast mis-spoke, mis-heard;
I have a King's oath to the contrary.
Why dost thou look so sadly on my son ?
Why holds thine eye that lamentable rheum,
Like a proud river peering o'er his bounds ?
Be these sad signs confirmers of thy words?
Then speak again; not all thy former tale,
But this one word, whether thy tale be true ?

Sal. As true, as, I believe, you think them false, That

gave you cause to prove my saying true. Con. O, if thou teach me to believe this sorrow, Teach thou this sorrow how to make me die. Lewis

marry Blanch! O, boy, then where art thou ? France friend with England ! what becomes of me? Fellow, be gone; I cannot brook thy sight. Arth. I do beseech you, madam, be content.

not go

Con. If thou, that bid'st me be content, wert grim, Ugly, Patch'd with foul moles, and eye-offending marks, I would not care, I then would be content: But thou art fair; and at thy birth,—dear boy! Nature and fortune join'd to make thee great: Of nature's gifts thou may’st with lilies boast, And with the half-blown rose: but fortune, 0 ! She is corrupted, chang’d, and won from thee; She adulterates hourly with thine uncle John; And with her golden hand hath pluck'd on France To tread down fair respect of sovereignty. Tell me, thou fellow, is not France forsworn? Enevnom him with words; or get thee gone, And leave those woes alone, which I alone Am bound to underbear.

Sal. Pardon me, madam, I may



to the Kings.
Con. Thou may’st, thou shalt, I will not go with

I will instruct my sorrows to be proud;
For grief is proud, and makes his owner stout.
To me, and to the state of my great grief,
Let kings assemble; for my grief's so great,
That no supporter but the huge firm earth
Can hold it up: here I and sorrow sit:
Here is my throne, bid kings come bow to it.

[Throws herself on the Ground, Flourish of Trumpets and Drums. Enter KING JOHN, KING PHILIP, LEWIS, BLANCH,


K.Phil. 'Tis true, fair daughter; and this blessed day Ever in France shall be kept festival;

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