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, 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, I'd set an ox-head to your lion's hide, Aust. Peace; no more. Faul. O, tremble; for you hear the lion roar. [Exeunt AUSTRIA and FAULCON BRIDGE. Alarums. 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 bells; King John, your King and England's, doth approach, Our colours do return in those same hands Cit. Heralds, from off our towers we might behold, From first to last, the onset and retire Of both your armies; whose equality 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, Faul. Ha, majesty! how high thy glory towers, Cry, havoc, Kings! back to the stained field, 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 rul'd by me: Be friends a while, and both conjointly bend How like you this wild counsel, mighty states? K. John. Now, by the sky that hangs above our I like it well;-France, shall we knit our powers, Then, after, fight who shall be king of it? K. Phil. Let it be so: assault? -Say, where will you 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 Blanch, Is near to England: Look upon the years Of Lewis the Dauphin, and that lovely maid. Two such controlling bounds shall you be, Kings, 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 seas; Talks as familiarly of roaring lions, As maids of thirteen do of puppy-dogs! Lew. I do, my lord; and in her eye I find Drawn in the flattering table of her eye. [KING JOHN, KING PHILIP, LEWIS, and Faul. Drawn in the flattering table of her eye! 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. Now, Citizens of Angiers, ope your gates, [Exeunt CITIZENS. Is not the Lady Constance in this troop? D |