Would bear thee from the knowledge of thyself,
And grapple1 thee unto a pagan shore;
Where these two Christian armies might combine
The blood of malice in a vein of league,
And not to-spend it so unneighborly!
Lew. A noble temper dost thou show in this;
And great affections, wrestling in thy bosom,
Do make an earthquake of nobility.
O, what a noble combat hast thou fought,
Between compulsion and a brave respect!
Let me wipe off this honorable dew,
That silverly doth progress on thy cheeks.
My heart hath melted at a lady's tears,
Being an ordinary inundation;
But this effusion of such manly drops,
This shower, blown up by tempest of the soul,
Startles mine eyes, and makes me more amazed
Than had I seen the vaulty top of heaven
Figured quite o'er with burning meteors.
Lift up thy brow, renowned Salisbury,
And with a great heart heave away this storm.
Commend these waters to those baby-eyes,
That never saw the giant world enraged;
Nor met with fortune other than at feasts,
Full warm of blood, of mirth, of gossiping.
Come, come; for thou shalt thrust thy hand as deep
Into the purse of rich prosperity,
As Lewis himself.-So, nobles, shall you all,
That knit your sinews to the strength of mine.
Enter PANDULPH, attended.
And even there, methinks, an angel spake.
Look, where the holy legate comes apace,
1 The old copy reads cripple. The emendation was made by Pope. 2 Shakspeare here employs a phraseology used before in the Merry Wives of Windsor:+
“And, fairy-like, to-pinch the unclean knight.”
3 This compulsion was the necessity of a reformation in the state; which, according to Salisbury's opinion (who in his preceding speech calls it an enforced cause), could only be procured by foreign arms; and the brave respect was the love of country.
To give us warrant from the hand of Heaven;
And on our actions set the name of right,
With holy breath.
Pand.
Hail, noble prince of France;
The next is this,-King John hath reconciled
Himself to Rome; his spirit is come in,
That so stood out against the holy church,
The great metropolis and see of Rome;
Therefore thy threatening colors now wind up,
And tame the savage spirit of wild war ;
That, like a lion fostered up at hand,
It may lie gently at the foot of peace,
And be no further harmful than in show.
Lew. Your grace shall pardon me, I will not back; I am too high-born to be propertied,1
To be a secondary at control,
Or useful serving-man, and instrument,
To any sovereign state throughout the world.
Your breath first kindled the dead coal of wars,
Between this chástised kingdom and myself,
And brought in matter that should feed this fire;
And now 'tis far too huge to be blown out
With that same weak wind which enkindled it.
You taught me how to know the face of right,
Acquainted me with interest to this land,
Yea, thrust this enterprise into my heart;
And come you now to tell me, John hath made
His peace with Rome? What is that peace to me?
I, by the honor of my marriage-bed,
After young Arthur, claim this land for mine;
And, now it is half conquered, must I back,
Because that John hath made his peace with Rome?
Am I Rome's slave? What penny hath Rome borne,
What men provided, what munition sent,
To underprop this action? Is't not I,
2 This was the phraseology of the time :—
"He hath more worthy interest to the state,
Than thou the shadow of succession."
That undergo this charge? Who else but I,
And such as to my claim are liable,
Sweat in this business, and maintain this war?
Have I not heard these islanders shout out,
Vive le roy! as I have banked their towns?1
Have I not here the best cards for the game
To win this easy match played for a crown?
And shall I now give o'er the yielded set?
No, no, on my soul, it never shall be said.
Pand. You look but on the outside of this work.
Lew. Outside or inside, I will not return
Till my attempt so much be glorified
As to my ample hope was promised
Before I drew this gallant head of war,
And culled these fiery spirits from the world,
To outlook3 conquest, and to win renown
Even in the jaws of danger and of death.—
[Trumpet sounds What lusty trumpet thus doth summon us?
Enter the Bastard, attended.
Bast. According to the fair play of the world,
Let me have audience; I am sent to speak.-
My holy lord of Milan, from the king
I come to learn how you have dealt for him;
And, as you answer, I do know the scope
And warrant limited unto my tongue.
Pand. The dauphin is too wilful-opposite,
And will not temporize with my entreaties;
He flatly says, he'll not lay down his arms.
Bast. By all the blood that ever fury breathed, The youth says well.-Now hear our English king; For thus his royalty doth speak in me.
He is prepared; and reason too, he should.
This apish and unmannerly approach,
1 Banked is supposed by some to mean the throwing up of intrench
ments, and by others, traversing the river banks.
2 1. e. assembled it, drew it out of the field.
3 Face down, bear down by a show of magnanimity.
This harnessed mask, and unadvised revel,
This unhaired1 sauciness, and boyish troops,
The king doth smile at; and is well prepared
To whip this dwarfish war, these pygmy arms,
From out the circle of his territories.
That hand, which had the strength, even at your door,
To cudgel you, and make you take the hatch;
To dive, like buckets, in concealed wells;
To crouch in litter of your stable planks;
To lie, like pawns, locked up in chests and trunks;
To hug with swine; to seek sweet safety out
In vaults and prisons; and to thrill, and shake,
Even at the crying of your nation's crow,3
Thinking his voice an armed Englishman ;-
Shall that victorious hand be feebled here,
That in your chambers gave you chastisement?
No;-know, the gallant monarch is in arms;
And like an eagle o'er his eyry 1 towers,
To souse annoyance that comes near his nest.-
And you degenerate, you ingrate revolts,
You bloody Neroes, ripping up the wound
Of your dear mother England, blush for shame;
For your own ladies, and pale-visaged maids,
Like Amazons, come tripping after drums;
Their thimbles into armed gauntlets change,
Their neelds to lances, and their gentle hearts
To fierce and bloody inclination.
Lew. There end thy brave," and turn thy face in
We grant, thou canst outscold us; fare thee well;
We hold our time too precious to be spent
With such a brabbler.
1 The old copies read unheard. The emendation is Theobald's. It should be remarked that hair was often spelled hear.
2 To take, for to leap. Hunters still say to take a hedge or gate, meaning to leap over them. Baret has "to take horse, to leap on horseback."
3 i. e. the crowing of a cock; Gallus being both a cock and a French
Bast. No, I will speak.
Lew. We will attend to neither.
Strike up the drums; and let the tongue of war
Plead for our interest, and our being here.
Bast. Indeed, your drums, being beaten, will cry out ; And so shall you, being beaten. Do but start
An echo with the clamor of thy drum,
And even at hand a drum is ready braced,
That shall reverberate all as loud as thine;
Sound but another, and another shall,
As loud as thine, rattle the welkin's ear,
And mock the deep-mouthed thunder; for at hand
(Not trusting to this halting legate here,
Whom he hath used rather for sport than need)
Is warlike John; and in his forehead sits
A bare-ribbed death, whose office is this day
To feast upon whole thousands of the French.
Lew. Strike up our drums, to find this danger out.
Bast. And thou shalt find it, dauphin, do not doubt.
SCENE III. The same. A Field of Battle. Alarums.
Enter KING JOHN and HUBERT.
K. John. How goes the day with us? O, tell me, Hubert.
Hub. Badly, I fear. How fares your majesty? K. John. This fever, that hath troubled me so long, Lies heavy on me. O, my heart is sick!
Mess. My lord, your valiant kinsman, Faulconbridge, Desires your majesty to leave the field;
And send him word by me, which way you go.
K. John. Tell him, toward Swinstead, to the abbey
Mess. Be of good comfort; for the great supply,'
Supply is here used as a noun of multitude, as it is again in Scene V.
|