KING JOHN.

PRINCE HENRY, his Son; afterwards King Henry III, ARTHUR, Duke of Bretagne, Son of Geffrey, late Duke of Bretagne, the elder Brother of King John.

WILLIAM MARESHALL, Earl of Pembroke. GEFFREY FITZ-PETER, Earl of Essex, Chief Justiciary of England.

WILLIAM LONGSWORD, Earl of Salisbury.
ROBERT BIGOT, Earl of Norfolk.

HUBERT DE BURGH, Chamberlain to the King.
ROBERT FAULCONBRIDGE, Son of Sir Robert Faul-

conbridge.

ARCH-DUKE of Austria.

CARDINAL PANDELPH, the Pope's Legate.
MELUS, a French Lord.
CHATILLON, Ambassador from France to King John.
ELINOR, the Widow of King Henry II. and Mo
ther of King John.

CONSTANCE, Mother to Arthur. •
BLANCH, Daughter to Alphonso King of Castile,
and Niece to King John.

LADY FAULCONBRIDGE, Mother to the Bastard, and Robert Faulconbridge.

Lords, Ladies, Citizens of Angiers, Sheriff, He ralds, Officers, Soldiers, Messengers, and other Attendants.

Scene, sometimes in England; and sometimes in France.

ACT I.

SCENE 1.—Northampton A Room of State in the
Palace.

Enter King JoHN, Queen ELINOR, PEMBROKE, ES-
SEX, SALISBURY, and others, with CHATILLON.
K. John. Now, say, Chatillon, what would France
with us?

Chat. Thus, after greeting, speaks the king of
France,

In my behaviour, to the majesty,
The borrow'd majesty of England here.

Eli. A strange beginning;-borrow'd majesty!
K. John. Silence, good mother; hear the em-
bassy.

Chat. Philip of France, in right and true behalf
Of thy deceased brother Geffrey's son,
Arthur Plantagenet, lays most lawful claim
To this fair island, and the territories;

To Ireland, Poictiers, Anjou, Touraine, Maine:
Desiring thee to lay aside the sword,
Which sways usurpingly these several titles;
And put the same into young Arthur's hand,
Thy nephew, and right royal sovereign.

K. John. What follows, if we disallow of this? Chat. The proud controul of fierce and bloody war,

To enforce these rights so forcibly withheld.

K. John. Here have we war for war, and blood for blood,

Controulment for controulment; so answer France. Chat. Then take my king's defiance from my mouth,

The furthest limit of my embassy.

K. John. Bear mine to him, and so depart in peace: Be thou as lightning in the eyes of France; For ere thou canst report I will be there, The thunder of my cannon shall be heard: So, hence! Be thou the trumpet of our wrath, And sullen presage of your own decay → An honourable conduct let him have;Pembroke, look to't: Farewell, Chatillon.

[Exeunt Chatillon and Pembroke. Ell. What now, my son? Have I not ever said, How that ambitious Constance would not cease, Till she had kindled France, and all the world, Upon the right and party of her son? This might have been prevented, and made whole, In the manner I now do.

With very easy arguments of love;
Which now the manage of two kingdoms must
With fearful bloody issue arbitrate.

K. John. Our strong possession, and our right,
for us,
Eli. Your strong possession, much more than
your right;

Or else it must go wrong with you, and me:
So much my conscience whispers in your ear;
Which none but heaven, and you, and I, shall hear.
Enter the SHERIFF of NorthamPTONSHIRE, Who
whispers EssEX.

Essex. My liege, here is the strangest controversy,
Come from the country to be judged by you,
That e'er I heard: Shall I produce the men?
K. John. Let them approach. [Exit Sherif
Our abbies, and our priories, shall pay.
Re-enter SHERIFF, with ROBERT FAULCONBRIDGE,
and PHILIP, his bastard Brother.
This expedition's charge.-What men are you?
Bast. Your faithful subject 1, a gentleman,
Born in Northamptonshire; and eldest son,
As I suppose, to Robert Faulconbridge;
A soldier, by the honour-giving hand
Of Cœur-de-lion knighted in the field.
K. John. What art thou?

Rob. The son and heir to that same Faulcon bridge.

K. John. Is that the elder, and art thou the heir? You came not of one mother then, it seems.

Bast. Most certain of one mother, mighty king. That is well known; and, as I think, one father: But, for the certain knowledge of that truth, I put you o'er to heaven, and to my mother; Of that I doubt, as all men's children may.

Eli. Out on thee, rude man! Thou dost shame thy mother,

And wound her honour with this diffidence.

Bast. I, madam? No, I have no reason for it;
That is my brother's plea, and none of mine;
The which if he can prove, 'a pops me out
At least from fair five hundred pound a-year:
Heaven guard my mother's honour, and my land!
K. John. A good blunt fellow-Why, being
younger born,

Doth he lay claim to thine inheritance?
Bast. I know not why, except to get the land.
But once he slander'd me with bastardy:

• Conduct, administration.

But whe'r I be as true begot, or no,
That still I lay upon my mother's head;
But, that I am as well begot, my liege,
(Fair fall the bones that took the pains for me!)
Compare our faces, and be judge yourself.
If old Sir Robert did beget us both,
And were our father, and this son like him ;~-
O old Sir Robert, father, on my knee

I give heaven thanks, I was not like to thee.

K. John. Why, what a madcap hath heaven lent us here!

Eli. He hath a trick of Cœur-de-lion's face,
The accent of his tongue affecteth him:
Do you not read some tokens of my son
In the large composition of this man?

K. John. Mine eye hath well examined his parts, And finds them perfect Richard.-Sirrah, speak, What doth move you to claim your brother's land? Best. Because he hath a half-face, like my fa. ther;

With that half-face would he have all my land:
A half-faced groat five hundred pound a year!
Rob. My gracious liege, when that my father lived,
Your brother did employ my father much;-

Be st. Well, Sir, by this you cannot get my land;
Your tale must be, how he employ'd my mother.
Rob. And once despatch'd him in an embassy
To Germany, there, with the emperor,
To treat of high affairs touching that time:
The advantage of his absence took the king,
And in the mean time sojourn'd at my father's;
Where how he did prevail, I shame to speak:
But truth is truth; large lengths of seas and shores
Between my father and my mother lay,
(As I have heard my father speak himself,)
When this same lusty gentleman was got.
Upon his death-bed he by will bequeath'd
His lands to me; and took it, on his death,
That this, my mother's son, was none of his;
And, if he were, be came into the world
Full fourteen weeks before the course of time.
Then good, my liege, let me have what is mine,
My father's land, as was my father's will.

K. John. Sirrah, your brother is legitimate; Your father's wife did after wedlock bear him: And, if she did play false, the fault was her's; Which fault lies on the hazards of all husbands That marry wives. Tell me, how if my brother, Who, as you say, took pains to get this son, Had of your father claim'd this son for his? In sooth, good friend, your father might have kept This calf-bred, from his cow, from all the world In sooth he might: then, if he were my brother's, My brother might not claim him; nor your father, Being none of his, refuse him :-This concludes,My mother's son did get your father's heir; Your father's heir must have your father's land. Rob. Shall then my father's will be of no force, To dispossess that child which is not his?

Bust. Of no more force to dispossess me, Sir,
Than was his will to get me, as I think.
Eli. Whether hadst thou rather, be a Faulcon-
bridge,

And like thy brother, to enjoy thy land;
Or the reputed son of Cœur-de-lion,
Lord of thy presencet, and no land beside?
Bast. Madam, an if my brother had my shape,
And I had his, Sir Robert his, like him;
And if my legs were too such riding-rods,
My arms such eel-skins stuff'd; my face so thin,
That in mine ear I durst not stick a rose,
Lest men should say, look, where three farthings
goes!

And, to his shape, were heir to all this land,

Would I might never stir from off this place,

I'd give it every foot to have this face;

I would not be Sir Nob in any case.

Bast. Philip, my liege; so is my name begun;
Philip, good old Sir Robert's wife's eldest son.
K. John. From henceforth bear his name whose
form thou bear'st:

Kneel thou down Philip, but arise more great;
Arise, Sir Richard, and Plantagenet.

Bast. Brother by the mother's side, give me your hand;

My father give me honour, yours gave land:
Now blessed be the hour, by night or day,
When I was got, Sir Robert was away,

Eli. The very spirit of Plantagenet ?

I an thy grandame, Richard; call me so.
Bast. Madam, by chance, but not by truth :
what though!

Something about, a little from the right,
In at the window, or else o'er the hatch:
Who dares not stir by day, must walk by night;
And have is have, however men do catch;
Near or far off, well won is still well shot;
And I am I, howe'er I was begot.

K. John. Go, Faulconbridge; now hast thou thy desire,

A landless kuight makes thee a landed 'squire.Come, madam, and come, Richard; we must speed For France, for France; for it is more than need. Bust. Brother, adien; good fortune come to thee! For thou wast got i' the why of honesty.

[Exeunt all but the Bastard,
A foot of honour better than I was;
But many a many foot of land the worse.
Well, now can I make any Joan a lady:-
Good den*, Sir Richard,-God-a-mercy, fellow ;-
And if his name be George, I'll call him Peter:
For new-made honour doth forget men's names;
'Tis too respective, and too sociable,
For your conversation. Now your traveller,—
He and his tooth-pick at my worship's mess;
And when my knightly stomach is sufficed,
Why then I suck my teeth, and catechise
My picked man of countries § :——My dear Sir,
(Thus, leaning on mine elbow, I begin,)
I shall beseech you-That is question now;
And then comes answer like an ABC-book :-
O Sir, says answer, at your best command;
At your employment; at your service, Sir :--
No, Sir, says question; I, sweet Sir, at yours:
And so, ere answer knows what question would,
(Saving in dialogue of compliment;
And talking of the Alps, and Appennines,
The Pyrenean, and the river Po,)

It draws toward supper in conclusion so.
But this is worshipful society,
And fits the mounting spirit like myself:
For he is but a bastard to the time,
That doth not smack of observation;
(And so am I, whether I smack, or no ;)
And not alone in habit and device,
Exterior form, outward accoutrement;
But from the inward motion to deliver
Sweet, sweet, sweet poison for the age's tooth:
Which, though I will not practise to deceive,
Yet, to avoid deceit, I mean to learn;

For it shall strew the footsteps of my rising.-
But who comes in such haste, in riding robes?
What woman-post is this? Hath she no husband,
That will take pains to blow a horn before her?

Enter Lady FAULCONBRIDGE and JAMES GURNEY.
O me! it is my mother :-How now, good lady?
What brings you here to court so hastily?
Lady F. Where is that slave, thy brother? Where

is he?

me1

Beqneath thy land to him, and follow me
I am a soldier, and now bound to France.
Bast. Brother, take you my land, I'll take my

chance:

Your face hath got five hundred pounds a year; Yet sell your face for five pence, and 'tis dear.Madam, I'll follow you unto the death.

Eli. Nay, I would have you go before me thither. Bast. Our country manners give our betters way. K. John. What is thy name?

Lady F. Sir Robert's son! Ay, thou unreverend boy,

Sir Robert's son: why scorn'st thou at Sir Robert? He is Sir Robert's son: and so art thou.

Bast. James Gurney, wilt thou give us leave a while?

Gur. Good leave, good Philip.

Bast. Philip-Sparrow!-James,

There's toys abroad; anon I'll tell thee more.

• Good evening.

Change of condition
Catechism.

[Exit Gurney.

+ Respectable. My travelled top.

Idle reports.

Madam, I was not old Sir Robert's son;
Sir Robert right have eat his part in me
Upon Good-Friday, and ne'er broke nis fast;
Sir Robert could do well; marry, (to confess!)
Could be get ine? Sir Robert could not do it;
We know his handy-work :-Therefore, good mother,
To whom am 1 beholden for these limbs ?
Sir Robert never holp to make this leg.

Lady F. Hast thou conspired with thy brother too, That for thine own gain shouldst detend mine ho

nour?

What means this scorn, thou most untoward knave? Bast. Knight, knight, good mother,-Basiliscolike:

What! I am dubb'd; I have it on my shoulder.
But, mother, I am not Sir Robert's son;

I have disclaim'd Sir Robert, and my land;
Legitimation, name, and all is gone:

Then, good my mother, let me know my father;
Some proper man I hope; who was it, mother?
Lady F. Hast thou denied thyself a Faulcon-
bridge?

Bast. As faithfully as I deny the devil.

Lady F. King Richard Cœur-de-lion was thy father;

By long and vehement suit I was seduced

To make room for him in my husband's bed :——
Heaven lay not my transgression to my charge!—
Thou art the issue of my dear offence,
Which was so strongly urged, past my defence.

Bast. Now, by this light, were I to get again,
Madam, I would not wish a better father.
Some sins do bear their privilege on earth,
And so doth yours; your fault was not your folly:
Needs must you lay your heart at his dispose,
Subjected tribute to commanding love,-
Against whose fury and unmatched force
The awless lion could not wage the fight,
Nor keep his princely heart from Richard's hand.
He, that perforce robs lions of their hearts,
May easily win a woman's. Ay, my mother,
With all my heart I thank thee for my father!
Who lives and dares but say, thou didst not well
When I was got, Pi! send his soul to hell.
Come, lady, I will shew thee to my kin;
And they shall say, when Richard me begot,
If thou hadst said him nay, it had been sin:
Who says it was, he lies; I say, 'twas not. [Exeunt.

ACT II.

SCENE 1.-France. Before the Walls of Angiers. Enter, on one side, the Archduke of AUSTRIA, and Forces; on the other, PHILIP, King of France, and Forces; LEWIS, CONSTANCE, ARTHUR, and Attendants.

Lew. Before Angiers well met, brave Austria.-
Arthur, that great fore-runner of thy blood,
Richard, that robb'd the lion of his heart,
And fought the holy wars in Palestine,
By this brave duke came early to his grave:
And, for amends to his posterity,

At our importance hither is he come,
To spread his colours, boy, in thy behalf;
And to rebuke the usurpation

Of thy unnatural uncle, English John:
Embrace him, love him, give him welcome hither,
Arth. God shall forgive you Cœur-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 unstamed love:
Welcome before the gates of Angiers, dnke.
Lew. A noble boy! Who would not do thee right?
Aust. Upon thy cheek Jay I this zealous kiss,
As seal to this indenture of my love;
That to my home I will no more return,
Till Angiers, and the right thou hast in France,
Together with that pale, that white-faced shore,
Whose foot spurns back the ocean's roaring tides,
And coops from other lands her islanders,
Even till that England, hedged in with the main,
That water-walled bulwark, still secure
And confident from foreign purposes,
Even till that utmost corner of the west,
Salute thee for her king: till then, fair boy,
Will I not think of home, but follow arms.

A character in an old drama, called Soliman and Persoda.

+ Importunity.

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

Till your strong hand shall help to give him strength, (swords

To make a more requital to your love.

Aust. The peace of heaven is theirs, that lift their In such a just and charitable war.

K. Phi. Well then, to work; our cannon shall be bent

Against the brows of this resisting town.—
Call for our chiefest men of discipline,
To call the plots of best advantages :
We'll lay before this town our royal bones,
Wade to the market-place in Frenchmen's blood,
But we will fake it subject to this boy.

Const. Stay for an answer to your embassy,
Lest unadvised you stain your swords with blood:
My lord Chatillon 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 rash haste so indirectly shed.

Enter CHATILLON.

K. Phi. A wonder, lady!-Lo, upon thy wish, Our messenger Chatillon is arrived-What England says, say briefly, gentle lord, We coldly pause for thee; Chatillon, speak.

Chat. Then turn your forces from this paltry siege. And stir them up against a mightier task. England, impatient of your just demands, Hat put himself in arms; the adverse winds, Whose leisure I have staid, have given him time To land his legions all as soon as I : His marches are expedient + to this town, 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 niece, the lady Blanch of Spain; With them a bastard of the king deceased; And all the unsettled humours of the land,Rashi, inconsiderate, 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 scath 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 unlook'd for is this expedition!
Aust. By how much unexpected, by so much
We must awake endeavour for defence;
For courage mounteth with occasion:
Let them be welcome then, we are prepared.
Enter King JoHN, ELINOR, the BASTARD, PEN-
BROKE, and Forces.

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

Our just and lineal entrance to our own!

If not; bleed France, and peace ascend to heaven! Whiles we, God's wrathful agent, do correct Their proud contempt that beat 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 sake, With burden 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 hast ander-wrought his lawful king, Cut off the sequence of posterity, Outfaced 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 died in Geffrey; and the hand of time Shall draw this brief into as huge a volume. That Geffery 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 owe the crown that thou o'ermasterest?
K. John. From whom hast thou this great com-
mission, France,

To draw my answer from thy articles?

1

K. John. Bedlam, have done. Const. I have but this to say,That he's not only plagued for her sin,

In any breast of strong authority,

To look into the blots and stains of right.

That judge hath made me guardian to this boy; Under whose warrant, I impeach thy wrong; And, by whose help, 1 mean to chastise it.

K. John. Alack, thou dost usurp authority.
K. Phi. Excuse; it is to beat usurping down.
Eli. Who is it, 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!
Const. My bed was ever to thy son 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 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.

Aust. Peace!

Bast. Hear the crier.

Aust. What the devil art thou?

Bast. 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; I'll smoke your skin-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 disrobe the lion of that robe!

Bast. It lies as sightly on the back of him, As great Alcides' shoes upon an ass:But, ass, I'll take that burden from your back; Or lay on that, shall make your shoulders crack. Aust. What cracker is this same, that deafs our

ears

With this abundance of superfluous breath?

K. Phi. Lewis, determine what we shall do straight. Lew. Women and fools, break off your confer

ence.

King John, this is the very sum of all,-
England, and Ireland, Anjou, Touraine, Maine,
la right of Arthur do I claim of thee:
Wilt thou resign them, and lay down thy arms?
K.Jolm. My life as soon:-I do defy thee, France,
Arthur of Bretagne, yield thee to my hand;
And out of my dear love, I'll give thee more
Than e'er the coward hand of France can win:
Submit thee, boy.

Eli. Come to thy grandam, child.
feast. 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,whe'r she does, or no! His grandam's wrongs, and not his mother's shames, Draw those heaven-moving pearls from his poor eyes,

Which heaven shall take in nature of a fee;
Av, with these crystal beads heaven shall be bribed
To do him justice, and revenge on you.

Eli. Thou monstrous slanderer of heaven and earth!

Const, Thou monstrous injurer of heaven and earth!

Call me not slanderer; thou, and thine, usurp
The dominations, 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 cannon of the law is laid on him,
Being but the second generation,
Removed from thy sin-conceiving womb.

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 nadvised scold, I can produce
A will, that bars the title of thy son.

Const. Ay, who doubts that? A will! A wicked will;

A woman's will; a canker'd grandam's will !
K. Phi. Peace, lady; pause, or be more tempe-

rate:

It ill beseems this presence, to cry aim
To these ill-tuned repetitions.-
Some trumpet summon hither to the walls
These en of Angiers; let us hear them speak,
Whose title they admit, Arthur's or John's.
Trumpets sound.—Enter CITIZENS upon the Walls.
1 Cit. Who is it, that hath warn'd us to the walls?
K. Phi. 'Tis France, for England.
K. John. England, for itself:

You men of Angiers, and my loving subjects,-
K. Phi. You loving men of Angiers, Arthur's
subjects,

Our trumpet call'd you to this gentle parle 4.
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 our endamagement:
The cannons have their bowels full of wrath;
And ready mounted are they, to spit forth
Their iron indignation 'gainst your walls:
All preparation for a bloody siege,

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 waist do girdle you about,
By the compulsion of their ordnance
By this time from their fixed beds of lime
Had been dishabited, and wide havock made
For bloody power to rush upon your peace.
But, on the sight of us, your lawful king,—
Who painfully, with much expedient march,
Have brought a countercheck before your gates,
To save unscratch'd your city's threaten'd cheeks,
Behold, the French, amazed, vouchsafe a parle :
And now, instead of bullets wrapt in fire,
To make a shaking fever in your walls,
They shoot but calin words, folded up in smoke,
To make a faithless error in your ears:
Which trust accordingly, kind citizens,
And let us in, your king; whose labour'd spirits,
Forwearied in this action of swift speed,
Crave harbourage within your city walls.

K. Phi. When I have said, make answer to us both,

Lo, in this right hand, whose protection
Is most divinely vow'd upon the right
Of him it holds, stands young Plantagenet;
Son to the elder brother of this man,
And king o'er him, and all that he enjoys:
For this down-trodden equity, we tread
In warlike march these greens before your town;
Being no further enemy to you,
Than the constraint of hospitable zeal,
In the relief of this oppressed child,
Religiously provokes. Be pleased then
To pay that duty, which you truly owe,
To him that owes it; namely, this young prince:
And then our arms, like to a muzzled bear,
Save in aspect, have all offence seal'd up;
Our cannon's malice vainly shall be spent
Against the invulnerable clouds of heaven;
And, with a blessed and unvex'd retire,
With unhack'd swords, and helmets al: unbruised,
We will bear home that Justy blood again,
Which here we came to spout against your town,
And leave your children, wives, and yon, in peace.
But, if you fondly pass our proffer'd offer,
'Tis not the roundure of your old-faced walls
Can hide you from our messengers of war;
Though all these English, and their discipline,
Were harbour'd in their rude circumference.

Then, tell us, shall your city call us lord,
In that behalf which we haw: challenged it?
Or shall we give the signal to our rage,
And stalk in blood to our possession?

1 Cit. In brief, we are the king of England's subjects;

For him, and in his right, we hold this town.

K. John. Acknowledge then the king, and let me - in.

1 Cit. That can we not: but he that proves the king,

To him will we prove loyal; till that time,
Have we ramm'd up our gates against the world.
K. John, Doth not the crown of England prove
the king?

And, if not that, I bring you witnesses,
Twice fifteen thousand hearts of England's breed,
Bast. Bastards, and else.

K. John. To verify our title with their lives,
K. Phi. As many, and as well born bloods as
those,--

Bast. Some bastards too.

K. Phi. Stand in his face, to contradict bis claim, 1 Cit. Till you compound whose right is wor thiest,

We, for the worthiest, hold the right from both. K. John. Then God forgive the sin of all those souls,

That to their everlasting residence,

Before the dew of evening fall, shall fleet,
In dreadful trial of our kingdom's king!

K. Phi, Amen, Amen!-Mount, chevaliers! To

Alarums and Excursions; then a Retreat.-Enter u
FRENCH HERALD, with Trumpets, to the Gates.
F. Her. You men of Angiers, open wide your
gates,

And let young Arthur, duke of Bretagne, in ;
Who; by the hand of France, this day hath made
Much work for tears in many an English mother,
Whose sons lie scatter'd on the bleeding ground;
Many a widow's husband groveling lies,
Coldly embracing the discolour'd earth;
And victory, with little loss, doth play
Upon the dancing banners of the French;
Who are at hand, triumphantly display'd,
To enter conquerors, and to proclaim
Arthur of Bretagne, England's king, and yours,

Enter an ENGLISH HERALD, with Trumpets,
E. Her. Rejoice, you men of Angiers, ring your
bells;
King John, your king and England's, doth approach,
Commander of this hot malicious day!
Their armours, that march'd hence so silver-bright
Hither return all gilt with Frenchmen's blood;
There stuck no plume in any English crest,
That is removed by a staff of France;
Our colours do return in those same bands
That did display them when we first march'd forth;
And, like a jolly troop of huntsmen, come
Our Insty English, all with purpled hands,
Dyed in the dying slaughter of their foes:
Open your gates, and give the victors way.

Cit. Heralds, from off your towers we might be

hold,

From first to last, the onset and retire Of both your armies; whose equality By our best eyes cannot be censured:

Judged, determined.

Blood hath bought blood, and blows have answer'a blows;

Strength match'd with strength, and power con fronted power:

Both are alike; and both alike we like, One must prove greatest, while they weigh so even,

We hold our town for neither; yet for both.

Enter, at one side, KING JOHN, with his Power; ELINOR, BLANCH, and the BASTARD; at the other, KING PHILIP, Lewis, AUSTRIA, and Forces.

K. John, France, hast thou yet more blood to cast away?

Say, shall the current of our right run on ? Shall leave his native channel, and o'erswell Whose passage, vex'd with thy impediment, With course disturb'd even thy confining shores; Unless thou let his silver water keep

A peaceful progress to the ocean,

K, Phi. England, thou hast not saved one drop of blood,

In this hot trial, more than we of France;
Rather, lost more: and by this hand I swear,
That sways the earth this climate overlooks,-
Before we will lay down our just-born arms,
We'll put thee down, 'gainst whom these arms we
bear,

Or add a royal number to the dead;
Gracing the scroll, that tells of this war's loss,
With slaughter coupled to the name of kings.

Bast. Ha, majesty! How high thy glory towers,
When the rich blood of kings is set on fire!
O, now doth death line his dead chaps with steel;
The swords of soldiers are his teeth, his fangs:
And now he feasts, mouthing the flesh of men,
In undetermined differences of kings.-
Why stand these royal fronts amazed thus ?
Cry, havock, kings! Back to the stamed field,
You equal potents, fiery-kindled spirits!
Then let confusion of one part confirm

The other's peace; till then, blows, blood, and

death!

K. John. Whose party do the townsmen yet admit! K. Phi. Speak, citizens, for England; who's your king?

1 Cit, The king of England, when we know the

king.

K, Phi. Know him in us, that here hold up his right,

K. John. In us, that are our own great deputy, And bear possession of our person here; Lord of our presence, Angiers, and of you,

1 Cit. A greater power than we, denies all this: And, till it be undoubted, we do lock Our former scruple in our strong-barr'd gates; King'd of our fears; until our fears, resolved, Be by some certain king purged and deposed. Bast. By heaven, these seroyles † of Angiers flout you, kings;

And stand securely on their battlements,
As in a theatre, whence they gape and point
At your industrious scenes and acts of death.
Your royal presences be ruled by me;
Do like the mutines of Jerusalem,
Be friends a while, and Both conjointly bend
Your sharpest deeds of malice on this town:
By east and west let France and England mount
Their battering cannon, charged to the mouths;
Till their soul-fearing clamours have brawl'd down
The flinty ribs of this contemptuous city:
I'd play incessantly upon these jades,
Even till unfenced desolation

Leave them as naked as the vulgar air.
That done, dissever your united strengths,
And part your mingled colours once again;
Turn face to face, and bloody point to point :
Then, in a moment, fortune shall cull forth
Out of one side her happy minion;
To whom in favour she shall give the day,
And kiss him with a glorious victory.
How like you this wild counsel, mighty states f
Smacks it not something of the policy?

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

I like it well;-France, shall we knit our powers,
And lay this Angiers even with the ground;
Then, after, fight who shall be king of it?