And kiss him with a glorious victory. How like you this wild counsel, mighty states? 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? Bast. An if thou hast the mettle of a king,- As we will ours, against these saucy walls; Make work upon ourselves, for heaven or hell! K. Phi. 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. Our thunder from the south Shall rain their drift of bullets on this town. Bast. O prudent discipline! From north to south,—— Austria and France shoot in each other's mouth: I'll stir them to it. [Aside.]-Come, away, away! 1 Cit. Hear us, great kings: vouchsafe awhile to stay, And I shall show you peace and fair-fac'd league; Win you this city without stroke or wound; Rescue those breathing lives to die in beds, That here come sacrifices for the field: Perséver not, but hear me, mighty kings. K. John. Speak on, with favour; we are bent to hear. 1 Cit. That daughter there of Spain, the Lady Blanch, Is niece to England:-look upon the years Of Louis the Dauphin, and that lovely maid: -- Is the young Dauphin every way complete,- And she again wants nothing, to name want, And she a fair divided excellence, Whose fullness of perfection lies in him. O, two such silver currents, when they join, And two such shores to two such streams made one, Lions more confident, mountains and rocks As we to keep this city. Bast. Here's a stay, That shakes the rotten carcase of old Death Out of his rags! Here's a large mouth, indeed, As maids of thirteen do of puppy-dogs! What cannoneer begot this lusty blood? He speaks plain cannon,-fire and smoke and bounce; Our ears are cudgell'd; not a word of his But buffets better than a fist of France: Zounds! I was never so bethump'd with words Since I first called my brother's father dad. Eli. Son, list to this conjunction, make this match; Give with our niece a dowry large enough: For by this knot thou shalt so surely tie Thy now unsur'd assurance to the crown, That yon green boy shall have no sun to ripe I see a yielding in the looks of France; Mark how they whisper: urge them while their souls Lest zeal, now melted by the windy breath Of soft petitions, pity, and remorse, Cool and congeal again to what it was. 1 Cit. Why answer not the double majesties This friendly treaty of our threaten'd town? K. Phi. Speak England first, that hath been forward first To speak unto this city: what say you? K. John. If that the Dauphin there, thy princely son, Can in this book of beauty read, "I love," Her dowry shall weigh equal with a queen: For Anjou, and fair Touraine, Maine, Poictiers, As she in beauty, education, blood, Holds hand with any princess of the world. K. Phi. What say'st thou, boy? look in the lady's face. Lou. I do, my lord, and in her eye I find A wonder, or a wondrous miracle, The shadow of myself form'd in her eye; Till now infixed I beheld myself Drawn in the flattering table of her eye. [Whispers with BLANCH. Bast. [aside.] Drawn in the flattering table of her eye!— And quarter'd in her heart!-he doth espy That, hang'd, and drawn, and quarter'd, there should be Blanch. My uncle's will in this respect is mine. If he see aught in you that makes him like, That anything he sees, which moves his liking, I can with ease translate it to my will; Though churlish thoughts themselves should be your [judge, K. John. What say these young ones?-What say you, my niece? Blanch. 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 Lou. Nay, ask me if I can refrain from love; For I do love her most unfeignedly. lady? K. John. Then do I give Volquessen, Touraine, Maine, Poictiers, and Anjou, these five provinces, K. Phi. It likes us well.--Young princes, close your hands. Aust. And your lips too; for I am well assur'd That I did so when I was first assur'd. K. Phi. Now, citizens of Angiers, ope your gates, Where is she and her son? tell me, who knows. Lou. She is sad and passionate at your highness' tent. K. Phi. And, by my faith, this league that we have made Will give her sadness very little cure. Brother of England, how may we content We will heal up all; K. John. from the Walls. The Citizens retire Bast. 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, With that same purpose-changer, that sly devil; Of kings, of beggars, old men, young men, maids,—— Who having no external thing to lose But the word maid, cheats the poor maid of that; The world, who of itself is peised well, This bawd, this broker, this all-changing word, But for because he hath not woo'd me yet: [Exit. ACT III. SCENE I.-FRANCE. The French King's Tent. Enter CONSTANCE, ARTHUR, and SALISBURY. |