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Cit. Till you compound whose right is worthiest, We, for the worthiest, hold the right from both. K. John. Then Heaven 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. Phil. Amen, amen !Mount, chevaliers ! to

arms! [Flourish of Drums and. Trumpets.-Exeunt all

but Austria and FAULCONBRIDGE. Faul. Saint George, that swing’d the dragon, and

e'er since
Sits on his horseback, at mine hostess' door,
Teach us some fence!-Sirrah, were I at home,

your den, sirrah, with your lioness, I'd set an ox-head to your lion's hide, And make a monster of you.

Aust. Peace; no more.
Faul. O, tremble; for you hear the lion roar.



Enter French HERALD with a TRUMPET, who sounds

a Parley. 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; While 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 English HERALD with a TRUMPET, who sounds

a Parley. E. Her. Rejoice, you men of Angiers, ring your King John, your King and England's, doth approach, Commander of this hot malicious day! Our colours do return in those same hands That did display them when we first march'd forth; And, like a jolly troop of huntsmen, come Our lusty English all with purpled hands, Dy'd in the dying slaughter of their foes : Open your gates, and give the victors way.

Cit. Heralds, from off our towers we might behold, From first to last, the onset and retire Of both your armies; whose equality By our best eyes cannot be censured; Blood hath bought blood, and blows have answer'd

blows: One must prove greatest; while they weigh so even, We hold our town for neither; yet for both.

A Charge.
Enter the Two Kings, with their Powers, as before.
K. John. France, hast thou yet more blood to cast

away? Say, shall the current of our right run on? K. Phil. England, thou hast not sav'd 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-borne arms,

put thee down, 'gainst whom these arms we bear, Or add a royal number to the dead,

Faul. Ha, majesty! how high thy glory towers, When the rich blood of kings is set on fire! Why stand these royal fronts amazed thus ?

Cry, havoc, Kings ! back to the stained 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. Phil. Speak, Citizens, for England; who's your

King? Cit. The King of England, when we know the King. K. Phil. Know him in us, that here hold up his

right. K. John. In us, that are our own great deputy ;, Lord of our presence, Angiers, and of you.

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. Faul. By Heaven, these scroyles of Angiers flout

you, Kings;
Your royal presences be ruld by me:
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 :
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 ?
Smacks it not something of the policy?
K. John. Now, by the sky that hangs above our

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?

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

Is near to England: Look upon


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

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 scas;
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 calld 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


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?


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