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Much work for tears in many an English mother, 1 Cit. A greater power, than we, denies all this;
Whose sons lie scatter'd on the bleeding ground: And, till it be undoubted, we do lock
Many a widow's husband groveling lies,

Our former scruple in our strong-barr'd gates,
Coldly embracing the discolour'd earth;

King'd of our fears, until our fears, resolv’d, And victory, with little loss, doth play

Be by some certain king purg'd and depos'd. Upon the dancing banners of the French,

Bast. By heaven, these scroyles of Angiers flout you, Who are at hand, triumphantly display'd,

kings, To enter conquerors, and to proclaim

And stand secarely on their battlements,
Arthur of Bretagne, England's king, and yours. As in a theatre, whence they gape and point

Enter an English Herald, with trumpets. At your industrious scenes and acts of death.
E. Her. Rejoice, you men of Angiers, ring your bells! Your royal presences be rul'd by me;
King John, your king and England's, doth approach, Do, like the mutines of Jerusalem,
Commander of this hot malicious day!

Be friends a while, and both conjointly bend
Their armours, that march'd hence so silverbright, Your sharpest deeds of malice on this town!
Hither return all gilt with Frenchmen's blood. By east and west let France and England mount
There stuck no plume in any English crest,

Their battering cannon, charged to the mouths, That is removed by a staff of France.

Till their soul-fearing clamours have brawld down Our colours do return in those same hands,

The flinty ribs of this contemptuous city:-
That did display them, when we first march'd forth; I'd play incessantly upon these jades,
And, like a jolly troop of huntsmen, come

Even till unfenced desolation
Our lusty English, all with purpled hands,

Leave them as naked, as the vulgar air. Died in the dying slaughter of their foes.

That donc, dissever your united strengths,
Open your gates, and give the victors way!

And part your mingled colours once again!
Cit. Heralds, from off our towers we might behold, Turn face to face, and bloody point to point!
From first to last, the onset and retire

Then, in a moment, fortune shall cull forth
Of both your armies; whose equality

Out of one side her happy minion: By our best eyes cannot be censured.

To whom in favour she shall give the day, Blood hath bought blood, and blows have answer'd And kiss him with a glorious victory. blows;

How like you this wild counsel, mighty states ? Strength match'd with strength,and power confronted Smacks it not something of the policy? power:

K. John. Now,by the sky, that hangs above our heads, Both are alike; and both alike we like.

Ilike it well. – France, shall we knit our powers, One must prove greatest: while they weigh so even, And lay this Angiers even with the ground? We hold our town for neither, yet for both.

Then, after, fight, who shall be king of it? Enter, at one side, King Joun, with his power; Eli Bast. And if thou hast the mettle of a king, NOR, Blanch, and the Bustard; at the other, King Being wrong’d, as we are, by this peevish town,Philip, Lewis, Austria, and forces.

Turn thou the mouth of thy artillery, K. John. France, hast thou yet more blood to cast As we will ours, against these saucy walls! away?

And when that we have dash'd them to the ground, Say, shall the current of our right run on ?

Why, then defy each other, and, pell-mell, Whose passage, vex'd with thy impediment, Make work upon ourselves, for heaven, or hell! Shall leave his native channel, and o'er-swell

K. Phi. Let it beso!- Say, where will you assault ? With course disturb’d even thy confining shores, K. John. We from the west will send destruction Unless thou let his silver water keep

Into this city's bosom. A peaceful progress to the ocean.

Aust. I from the north. K. Phi. England, thou hast not sav'd one drop of K. Phi. Qurthunder from the south blood,

Shall rain their drift of bullets on this town. In this hot trial, more than we of France;

Bast. Oprudent discipline! From north to sonth Rather, lost more. And by this hand I swear, Austria and France shoot in each other's mouth! That sways the earth, this climate overlooks, –

[ Aside. Before we will lay down our just-borne arms, I'll stir them to it!- Come, away, away! We'll put thee down'gainst whom these arms we bear, i Cit. Hearus, great kings ! vonchsafe a while to stay, Or add a royal number to the dead !

And I shall show you peace, and fair-faced league. Gracing the scroll, that tells of this war's loss, Win you this city without stroke, or wound! With slaughter coupled to the name of kings. Rescue those breathing lives to die in beds, Bast. Ha, majesty! how high thy glory towers, That here come sacrifices for the field! When the rich blood of kings is set on fire!

Persever not, but hear me, mighty kings ! 0, now doth death line his dead chaps with steel; K. John. Speak on, with favour; we are bent to hear. The swords of soldiers are his teeth, his fangs; 1 Cit. That daughter there of Spain, the lady Blanch, And now he feasts, mouthing the flesh of men, Is near to England. Look upon the years In undetermin'd differences of kings.

of Lewis the Dauphin, and that lovely maid ! Why stand these royal fronts amazed thus?

If lusty love should go in quest of beauty, Cry havock, kings! back to the stained field,

Where should he find it fairer, than in Blanch ? You, equal potents, fiery-kindled spirits !

If zealous love should go in search of virtue, Then let confusion of one part confirm

Where should he findit purer, than in Blanch? The other's peace; till then, blows, blood, and death! If love ambitious sought a match of birth, K. John. Whose party do the townsmen yet admit? Whose veins bound richer blood, than lady Blanch? K.Phi..Speak,citizens,for England; who's your king? Such as she is, in beauty, virtue, birth, 1 Cit. The king of England, when we know the king: Is the young Dauphin every way complete: K. Phi. Know him in ns, that here hold up his right! If not complete, O say, he is not she: K. John. Inus, that are our own great deputy, And she again wants nothing, to name want, And bear possession of our person here,

If want it be not, that she is not he: Lord of our presence, Angiers, and of you. He is the half part of a blessed man,

my niece?

Left to be finished by such a she;

Himself love's traitor: this is pity now, And she a lair divided excellence,

That hang'd, and drawn,and quarter'd, there should be, Whose fulness of perfection lies in him.

In such a love, so vile a lout as he. 0, two such silver currents, when they'join,

Blunch. My uncle's will, in this respect, is mine. Do glorify the banks, that bound them in :

If he see angħt in you, that makes him like,
And two such shores to two such streams made one, That any thing he sees, which moves his liking,
Two such controlling bounds shall you be, kings, I can with ease translate it to my will;
To these two princes, if you marry them.

Or, if you will, (to speak more properly,)
This union shall do more, than battery can,

I will enforce it easily to my love.
To our fast-closed gates; for, at this match, Further I will not flatter you, my lord,
With swifter spleen, than powder can enforce, That all I see in you is worthy love,
The mouth of passage shall we fling wide ope,

Than this, – that nothing do I see in you,
And give you entrance; but, without this match, (Though churlish thoughts themselves should be your
The sea enraged is not half so deaf,

judge, Lions more confident, mountains and rocks

That I can find should merit any hate. More free from motion; no, not death himself K.John. What say these young ones? What say’you, In mortal fury half so peremptory, As we to keep this city.

Blanch. That she is bound in honour still to do, Bast. Here's a stay,

What you in wisdom shall vouchsafe to say. Thatshakes the rotten carcase of old death

K. John. Speak then, prince Dauphiu! can you love Out of his rags ! Here's a large mouth, indeed,

this lady? That spits forth death, and mountains,rocks, and seas, Leur. Nay, ask me, if I can refrain from love; Talks as familiarly of roaring lions,

For I do love her most unfeignedly. As maids of thirteen do of puppy-dogs!

K.John. Then do I give Voiquessen, Touraine, Maine, What cannoneer begot this lusty blood ?

Poictiers and Anjou, these five provinces, He speaks plain cannon, fire, and smoke, and bounce; With her to thee; and this addition more, He gives the bastinado with his tongue;

Fullthirty thousand marks of English coin. Our ears are cudgel'd; not a word of his,

Philip of France, if thou be pleased withal, But bullets better, than a fist of France :

Coinmand thy son and daughter to join hands! Zounds! I was never so bethump'd with words, K. Phi. It likes us well: - young princes, close your Since I first call'd my brother's father dad.

hands! Eli. Son, list to this conjunction, make this match! Aust. And your lips too ! for, I am well assur'd, Give with onr niece a dowry large enough!

That I did so, when I was first assur'd. For by this knot thou shalt so surely tie

K. Phi. Now, citizens of Angiers, ope your gates, Thy now unsur'd assurance to the crown,

Letin that amity, which you have made! That yon grecu boy shall have no sun to ripe For at saint Mary's chapel, presently, The bloom, that promiseth a mighty fruit.

The rites of marriage shall be solemniz'd. I see a yielding in the looks of France;

Is not the lady Constance in this troop? . Mark, how they whisper! urge them, while their souls I know, she is not; for this match, made up, Are capable of this ambition:

Her presence would have interrupted much. Lest zeal, now melted by the windy breath

Where is she and her son ? tell me, who knows. Of soft petitions, pity, and remorse,

Lew. She is sad and passionate at your highness' tent. Cool and congeal again to what it was!

K. Phi. And, by my faith, this league, that we have 1 Cit. Why answer not the double majesties

made, This friendly treaty of our threaten’d town? Will give her sadness very little cure. — K. Phi. Speak England first, that hath been for- Brother of England, how may we content ward first

This widow lady? In her right we came; To speak unto this city! What say you?

Which we, God knows, have turn'd another way, K. John. If that the Dauphin there, thy princely son, To our own vantage. Can in this book of beanty read, i love,

K. John. We will heal up all; Her dowry shall weigh equal with a queen;

For we'll create young Arthur dnke of Bretagne, For Anjou, and fair Touraine, Maine, Poictiers, And earl of Richmond; and this rich fair town And all that we upon this side the sea

We make him lord of. Call the lady Constance ! (Except this city now by ns besieg’d,)

Some speedy messenger bid her repair Find liable to our crown and dignity,

To our solemnity! - I trus twe shall, Shall gild her bridal bed, and make her rich

If not fill up the measure of her will, In titles, honours, and promotions,

Yet in some measure satisfy her so, As sheiu beauty, education, blood,

That we shall stop her exclamation. Holds hand with any princess of the world.

Gowe, as well as haste will suffer is, K. Phi. What say'st thou, boy? look in the lady's To this unlook'd for, unprepared pomp ! face!

[Exeunt all but the Bastard. The Citizens Lew. I do, my lord, and in her eye I find

retire from the walls. A wonder, or a wondrous miracle,

Bus!. Mad world! mad kings! mad composition! The shadow of myself form’d in her eye,

John, to stop Arthur's title in the whole, Which, being but the shadow of your son,

Hath willingly departed with a part: Becomes a sun, and makes your son a shadow. And France, (whose armour conscience buckled on, Irlo protest, I never lov'd myself,

Whom zealand charity brought to the field, Till now infixed I beheld myself,

As God's own soldier,) rounded in the ear Drawn in the flattering table of her eye.

With that same purpose-changer, that sly devil,

[IThispers with Blanch. That broker, thal still breaks the pate of faith, Bast. Drawn in the flattering table of her eye! That daily break-vow, he, that wins of all, Hang’d in the frowning wrinkle of her brow! of kings, of beggars, old men, young men, maids, – And quarter'd in her heart!-- he doth espy

Who having no external thing to lose

But the word maid, - cheats the poor maid of that; Arth. I do beseech you, madam, be content!
That smooth-fac'd gentleman, tickling commodity, Const. If thou, that bid'st me be content, wert grim,
Commodity, the bias of the world,

Ugly, and sland'rous to thy mother's womb,
The world, who of itself is peised well,

Full of unpleasing blots, and sightless stains, Made to run even, upon even ground;

Lame, foolishi, crooked, swart, prodigious, Till this advantage, this vile drawing bias,

Patch'd with foul moles, and eye-ofl'ending marks, This sway of motion, this commodity,

I would not care, I then would be content; Makes it take head from all indiil'erency,

For then I shonld not love thee, no, nor thou From all direction, purpose, course, intent:

Become thy great birth, por desowe a crown. And this same bias, this commodity,

But thou art fair, and at thy birth, dear boy, This bawd, this broker, this all-changing word, Nature and fortune join'd, to make thee great. Clapp'd on the outward eye of fickle France,

of nature's gilts thou may’st with lilies boast, Hath drawn him from his own determin’d aid, And with the hall-blown rose: but fortune! 0, from a resolv'd and honourable war,

She is corrupted, chang’d, and won from thee; To a most base and vilc-concluded peace.

She adulterates hourly with thine ucle John, And why rail I on this commodity ?

And with her golden hand hath pluck'd on Franec, But for because he hath not woo'd me yet.

To tread down fair respect of sovereignty, Not that I have the power to clutch my hand,

And made his majesty the bawd to theirs. When his fair angels would salute my palm: France is a bawd to fortune, and king John, But for my hand, as unattempted yet,

That strumpet fortune, that usurping John. Like a poor beggar, raileth on the rich.

Tell me, thou fellow, is not France forsworn ? Well, whiles I am a beggar, I will rail,

Envenom him with words; or get thee gone, And say, there is no sin, but to be rich;

And leave those woes alone, which I alone And being rich, my virtue then shall be,

Am bound to under-bear! To say: there is no vice, but beggary.

Sal. Pardon me, madam, Since kings break faith upon commodity.

I may not go without you to the kings. Gain, be my lord! for I will worship thee. [Exit. Const. Thou may'st, thou shalt, I will not go with

thee.

I will instruct my sorrows to be proud;
А ст III.

For grief is proud, and makes his owner stout.
SCENE 1.The sume. The French King's tent. To me, and to the state of my great grief,

Enter Constance, Antuur, and SALISBURY. Let kings assemble! for my grief's so great,
Const. Gone to be married! gone to swear a peace! That no supporter but the huge firm earth
False blood to false blood join'd! gone to be friends! Can hold it up! Here I and sorrow sit,
Shall Lewis have Plauch? and Planch those provinces? Ilere is my throne; bid kings come bow to it!
It is not so; thou hast mis-spoke, mis-heard ;

[She throws herself on the ground. Be well advis'd, tell o'er thy tale again!

Enter King Joux, King Philip, Lewis, BLANCH, ELIIt cannot be; thou dost but say, 'tis so:

sor, Bastard, Austria, and Attendants. I trust, I may not trust thee; forthy word:

K. Phi. 'Tis true, fair daughter; and this blessed day, is but the vain breath of a common man.

Ever in France shall be kept festival. Believe me, I do not believe thee, man;

To solemnize this day, the glorious sun I have a king's oath to the contrary.

Stays in his course, and plays the alchemist, Thou shalt be punish'd for thus frighting me; Turning, with splendour of his precious eye, Por I am sick, and capable of fears,

The meagrecloddy earth to glittering gold. Oppress'd with wrongs, and therefore full of fears, The yearly course, that brings this day about, A widow, husbandless, subject to fears,

Shali never see it but a holyday. A woman, naturally born to tears ;

Const. A wicked day, and not a holyday! - (Rising. And thongh thou now confess, thou didst but jest, What hath this day deserv'd? what hath it done, With my vex'd spirits I cannot take a truce, That it in golden letters should be set, But they will quake and tremble all this day.

Among the high tides, in the calendar? What dost thou mean by shaking of thy head? May, rather, turn this day out of the week, Why dost thou look so sadly on my sou?

This day of shame, oppression, perjury: What means that hand upon that breast of thine ? Or, if it must stand still, let wives with child Why holds thine eye that lamentable rheum, Pray, that their burdens may not fall this day, Like a proud river peering o'er his bounds ? Lest that their hopes prodigiously be cross’d! Be these sad signs confirmers of thy words?

But on this day, let seamen fear no wreck, Then speak again, not all thy former tale,

No bargains break, that are not this day made! But this one word, whether thy tale be true!

This day, all things begun come to ill end; Sal. As true, as, I believe, you think them false, Yea, faith itself to hollow falsehood change! That give you cause to prove my saying true.

K. Phi. By heaven, lady, you shall have no cause Const. o, if thou teach me to believe this sorrow, To curse the fair proceedings of this day. Teach thou this sorrow, how to make me die! Have I not pawu'd to you my majesty? And let belief and life encounter so,

Const. You have beguil'd me with a counterfeit, As doth the fury of two desperate men,

Resembling majesty, which, being touch'd, and tried,
Which, in the very meeting, fall and die. — Proves valueless: You are forsworn, forsworn:
Lewis marry Blanch! 0, boy, then where art thou? You came in arms to spill mine enemies' blood,
France friend with England! what becomes of me? But now in arms you strengthen it with yours.
Fellow, be gone! I cannot brook thy sight; The grappling vigour and rough frown of war
This news hath made thee a most ugly man.

Iscold in amity and painted peace,
Sul. What other harm have I, good lady, done, And our oppression hath made up this leagne. —
But spoke the harm, that is by others done?

Arm, arm, you heavens, agaiust these perjar'd kings!
Const. Which harm within itself'so heinous is, A widow cries; be husband to me, heavens !
As it makes harmful all that speak ofit.

Let not the hours of this ungodly day

Wear out the day in peace; bat, ere sunset, Thy hateful life!
Set armed discord 'twixt these perjur'd kings! Const. O, lawful let it be,
Hear me, 0, hear me!

That I have room with Rome to curse a while!
Aust. Lady Constance, peace !

Good father cardinal, cry thou amen
Const. War! war! no peace! peace is to me a war. To my keen curses! for, without my wrong,
O Lymoges! O Austria! thou dost shame

There is no tongue, hath power to curse him right. That bloody spoil: thou slave, thou wretch, thou Pand. There's law and warrant, lady, for my curse. coward;

Const. And for mine too; when law can do no right, Thou little valiant, great in villainy!

Let it be lawful, that law bar no wrong; Thou ever strong upon the stronger side!

Law cannot give my child his kingdom here: Thou fortune's champion, that dost never fight, For he, that holds his kingdom, holds the law. But when her humorous ladyship is by

Therefore, since law itself is perfect wrong, To teach thee safety! thou art perjur'd too,

How can the law forbid my tongne to curse?
And sooth'st up greatness. What a fool art thou, Pand. Philip of France, on peril of a curse,
A ramping fool, to brag, and stamp, and swear, Let go the hand of that arch-heretic,
Upon my party! Thou cold-blooded slave,

And raise the power of France upon his head,
Hast thou not spoke, like thunder, on my side? Unless he do submit himself to Rome!
Been sworn my soldier? bidding me depend

Eli. Look'st thou pale, France? do not let go thy Upon thy stars, thy fortune, and thy strength ?

hand! And dost thou now fall over to my

foes ?

Const. Look to that, devil! Jest that France repent, Thou wear a lion's hide! doff it for shame,

And, by disjoining hands, hell lose a soul. Andhang a calf's-skin on those recreant limbs ! Aust. King Philip, listen to the cardinal ! Aust. Ö, that a man should speak these words to me! Bast. And hang a calf's-skin on his recreant limbs! Bast. And hang a calf's-skin on those recreant limbs! Aust. Well, ruffian, I must pocket up these wrongs, Aust. Thou dar'st not say so, villain, forthy life. Because Bast. And hang a calf's-skin on those recreant limbs! Bust. Your breeches best may carry them. K. John. We like not this; thou dost forget thyself. K. John. Philip, what say’st thou to the cardinal? Enter PANDULPH.

Const. What should he say, but as the cardinal ? K. Phi. Here comes the holy legate of the pope. Lew. Bethink you, father! for the difference Pund. Hail, you anointed deputies of heaven! Is, purchase of a heavy curse from Rome, Tothee, king John, my holy errand is.

Or the lighč loss of England for a friend. I Pandulph, of fair Milan cardinal,

Forego the easier! And from pope Innocent the legate here,

Blanch. That's the curse of Rome. Do, in his name, religionsly demand,

Const. 0 Lewis, stand fast! the devil tempts thee Why tlou against the church, our holy mother,

here, So wilfully dost spurn? and, force perforce,

In likeness of a new untrimmed bride. Keep Stephen Langton, chosen archbishop

Blunch. The lady Constance speaks not from her Of Canterbury, from that holy see?

faith, This, in our 'foresaid holy father's name,

But from her need.
Pope Innocent, I do demand of thee.

Const. O, if thou grant my need,
K. John. What earthly name to interrogatories Which only lives but by the death of faith,
Can task the free breath of a sacred king?

That need must needs infer this principle:
Thou canst not, cardinal, devise a name

That faith would live again by death of need. So slight, anworthy, and ridiculous,

0, then, tread down my need, and faith mounts ap; To charge me to an answer, as the pope.

Keep my need up, and faith is trodden down. Tell him this tale, and from the month of England, K. John. The king is mov'd, and answers not to this. Add thus much more: That no Italian priest Const. 0, be remov'd from him, and answer well! Shall tithe, or toll in our dominions;

Aust. Do so, king Philip! hang no more in doubt! But as we under heaven are supreme head,

Bast. Hang nothing but a call's-skin, most sweet So, under him, that great supremacy,

lout! Where we do reign, we will alone uphold,

K. Phi. I am perplex'd, and know not, what to say. Without the assistance of a mortal hand.

Pand. What can'st'thou say, but will perplex thee So tell the pope; all reverence set apart, To him, and his usurp'd authority!

If thou stand excommunicate, and curs’d? K. Phi. Brother of England, you blaspheme in this. K.Phi.Good reverend father, make my person yours, K.John. Though you, and all the kings of Christen- And tell me, how you would bestow yourself! dom,

This royal hand and mine are newly knit, Are led so grossly by this meddling priest,

And the conjunction of our inward souls Dreading the curse, that money may buy out, Married in league, coupled and link'd together And, by the merit of vile gold, dross, dust,

With all religious strength of sacred vows. Purchase corrupted pardon of a man,

The latest breath, that gave the sound of words, Who, in that sale, sells pardon from himself; Was deep-sworn faith, peace, amily, true love, Though you, and all the rest, so grossly led,

Between our kingdoms, and our royal selves; This juggling witchcraft with revenue cherish; And even before this truce, but new before, Yet I, aloue, alone do me oppose

No longer, than we well could wash our hands, Against the pope, and count his friends my foes. To clap this royal bargain up of peace,

Pand. Theu, by the lawful power, that I have, Heaven knows, they were besmear'd and overstain'd Thou shalt stand curs’d, and excommunicate, With slaughter's pencil, where revenge did paint And blessed shall he be, that doth revolt

The fearfal ditlerence of incensed kings. From his allegiance to an herctic;

And shall these hands, so lately parg'd

of blood, And meritorious shall tisat hand be call’d,

So newly join'd in love, so strong in both, Cauonized, and worshipp'd as a saint,

Unyoke this seizure, and this kind regret? That takes away, by any secret course,

Play fast and loose with faith? so jest with heaven,

more,

.

Make such unconstant children of ourselves,

Blanch. Now shall I see thy love; what motive may As now again to snatch our palm from palm,

Be stronger with thee, than the name of wife? Unswear faith sworn, and on the marriage bed Const. That, which upholdeth him, that thee upholds, Of smiling peace to march a bloody host,

His honour. O, thine honour, Lewis, thine honour! And make a riot on the gentle brow

Lew. I muse, your majesty doth seem so cold, Of true sincerity ? O holy sir,

When such profound respects do pull you on. My reverend father, let it not be so!

Pand. I will denounce a curse upon his head. Out of your grace, devise, ordain, impose

K. Phi. Thou shalt not need. - England, I'll fall Some gentle order! and then we shall be bless'd

from thee. To do your pleasure, and continue friends,

Const. O fair return of banish'd majesty! Pand. All form is formless, order orderless, Eli. O foal revolt of French inconstancy! Save what is opposite to England's love.

K. John. France, thou shalt rue this hour within this Therefore, to arms! be champion of our church!

hour. Or let the church, our mother, breathe her curse, Bast, Old Time the clock-setter, that bald sexton, A mother's curse, on her revolting son!

Time,
France, thou may’st hold a serpent by the tongue, Is it as he will? well then, France shall rue.
A cased lion by the mortal paw,

Blanch. The sun's o'ercast with blood : fair day, A fasting tiger safer by the tooth,

adieu !
Than keep in peace that hand, which thon dost hold. Which is the side, that I must go withal?
K. Phi. I may disjoin my hand, but not my faith. I am with both: each army hath a hand,
Pand. So mak'st thou faith an enemy to faith, And, in their rage, I having hold of both,
And, like a civil war, set'st oath to oath,

They whirl asander, and dismember me.
Thy tongue against thy tongue. O, let thy vow, Husband, I cannot pray, that thou may’st win ;
First made to heaven, first be to heaven performid, Uncle, I needs must pray, that thou may’st lose;
That is, to be the champion of our church!

Father, I may not wish the fortune thine;
What since thou swor'st, is sworn against thyself, Grandam, I will not wish thy wishes thrive.
Aud may not be performed by thyself;

Whoever wins, on that side shall I lose; For that, which thou hast sworn to do amiss,

Assured loss, before the match be play'd. Is not amiss, when it is truly done;

Lew. Lady, with me, with me thy fortune lies. And being not done, where doing tends to ill, Blanch. There where my fortune lives, there my life The truth is then most done not doing it.

dies. The better act of parpuses mistook

K. John. Cousin, go, draw our puissance together! Is, to mistake again; though indirect,

[Exit Bastard. Yet indirection thereby grows direct,

France, I am burn's

up with inflaming wrath,
And falsehood falsehood cores; as fire cools fire, A rage, whose heat hath this condition,
Within the scorched veins of one new burn'd. That nothing can allay, nothing but blood,
It is religion, that doth make vows kept;

The blood, and dearest valued blood, of France. But thou hast sworn against religion;

K. Phi. Thy rage shall burn thee up, and thou shalt By what thou swear’st, against the thing thou swear'st, turn And mak'st an oath the surety for thy truth

To ashes, ere our blood shall quench that fire. Against an oath. The truth thou art unsure

Look to thyself, thou art in jeopardy. To swear, swear only, not to be forsworn;

K. John. No more, than he that threats. – To arms Else, what a mockery should it be to swear?

let's hie!

[Exeunt. But thou dost swear only to be forsworn; And most forsworn, to keep what thou dost swear.

SCENE II. — The same. Plains near Angiers. Therefore, thy latter vows, against thy first,

Alarums, excursions. Enter the Bastard, with AuIs in thyself rebellion to thyself,

STRIA's head. And better conquest never canst thou make,

Bast. Now, by my life, this day grows wondrous hot; Than arm thy constant and thy nobler parts

Some airy devil hovers in the sky, Against those giddy loose suggestions:

And pours down mischief. Austria's head lie there, Upon which better part our prayers comein,

While Philip breathes. If thou vouchsafe them: but, if not, then know,

Enter King Joux, ARTHUR, and HUBERT. The peril of our curses light on thee,

K. John. Hubert, keep this boy !--Philip, make up! So heavy, as thou shalt not shake them off,

My mother is assailed in our tent, But, in despair, die under their black weight.

And ta’en, I fear. Aust. Rebellion, flat rebellion !

Bast. My lord, I rescu'd her. Bast, Will't not be?

Her highness is in safety, fear you not! Will not a calf's-skin stop that mouth of thine?

Buton, my liege! for very little pains Lew. Father, to arms!

Will bring this labour to an happy end. [Excunt. Blanch. Upon thy wedding day?

SCENE III.- The same. Against the blood, that thon hast married ?

Alarums; excursions; retreat. Enter King Joan, What, shall our feast be kept with slaughter'd men? ELINOR, Arthur, the Bastard, Hubert, and Lords, Shall braying trumpets, and loud churlish drums, K. John. So shall it be; your grace shall stay behind, Clamours of hell, be measures to our pomp?

[To Elinor. O husband, hear me!-ah, alack, how new

So strongly guarded. - Cousin, look not sad! Is husband in my mouth! — even for that name,

(To Arthur Which till this time my tongue did ne'er pronounce, Thy grandam loves thee, and thy uncle will Upon my knee I beg, go not to arms

As dear be to thee, as thy father was. Against mine uncle!

Arth. O, this will make my mother die with griei. Const. 0, upon my knee,

K. John. Cousin, (To the Bastard.) away for EngMade hard with kneeling, I do pray to thee,

land! haste before! Thou virtuous Dauphin, alter not the doom

And, ere our coming, see thon shake the bags Forethought by heaven!

Of hoarding abbots! angels imprisoned

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