. Who, by the hand of France, this day hath made Enter an English HERALD, with trumpets. E. Her. Rejoice, you men of Angiers, ring your bells, Their armours, that march'd hence so silver-bright, Our colours do return in those same hands That did display them when we first march'd forth; Cit. Heralds, from off our towers we might behold, Of both your armies; whose equality By our best eyes cannot be censured:* Blood hath bought blood, and blows have answer'd blows; Strength match'd with strength, and power confronted power: Both are alike; and both alike we like. One must prove greatest: while they weigh so even, Enter, at one side, KING JOHN, with his power; ELINOR, K. John. France, hast thou yet more blood to cast away? Say, shall the current of our right run on? Whose passage, vex'd with thy impediment, Shall leave his native channel, and o'er-swell A peaceful progress in the ocean. K. Phi. England, thou hast not saved one drop of blood, In this hot trial, more than we of France; Rather, lost more: And by this hand I swear, We'll put thee down, 'gainst whom these arms we bear, Judged, determined. Or add a royal number to the dead; Bast. Ha, majesty! how high thy glory towers, The other's peace; till then, blows, blood, and death! と K. Phi. Speak, citizens, for England; who's your king?zionar 1 Cit. The king of England, when we know the king. K. Phi. Know him in us, that here hold up his right. Centena K. John. In us, that are our own great deputy, And bear possession of our person here; Lord of our presence, Angiers, and of you.t 1 Cit. A greater power than we denies all this; sh And, till it be undoubted, we do lock Our former scruple in our strong-barr'd gates: King'd of our fears;t until our fears, resolved, Be by some certain king purged and deposed. Bast. By heaven, these scroyles of Angiers flout you, kings; And stand securely on their battlements. As in a theatre, whence they gape and point At your industrious scenes and acts of death. Do like the mutinest of Jerusalem, Be friends a while, and both conjointly bendova syday deadpage. 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: Even till unfenced desolation Leave them as naked as the vulgar air. To whom in favour she shall give the day, 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 heads, Potentates. Ruled by. * Mutineers. Alarming. I like it well;-France, shall we knit our powers, Bast. And 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. K. Phi. Our thunder from the south Shall rain their drift of bullets on this town. Bast. O prudent discipline! From north to south, 1 Cit. Hear us, great kings: vouchsafe a while to stay, 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 near to England; Look upon the years Of Lewis the Dauphin, and that lovely maid: Is the young Dauphin every way complete: If not complete, O say, he is not she; And she again wants nothing to name want, He is the half part of a blessed man, Do glorify the banks that bound them in: And two such shores to two such streams made one, Two such controlling bounds shall you be, kings, To these two princes, if you marry them. This union shall do more than battery can, * Pious. [Aside. With swifter spleen* than powder can enforce, 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, That spits forth death, and mountains, rocks, and seas; As maids of thirteen do of puppy-dogs! What cannoneer begot this lusty blood? He speaks plain cannon, fire, and smoke, and bounce; Eli. Son, list to this conjunction, make this match; For by this knot thou shalt so surely tie 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. 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, And all that we upon this side the sea (Except this city now by us besieged) Shall gild her bridal bed; and make her rich 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. Lew. I do, my lord, and in her eye I find A wonder, or a wondrous miracle, * Vehemence. The shadow of myself form'd in her eye; Drawn in the flattering table* of her eye. [Whispers with BLANCH. Bast. 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, 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, Or, if you will (to speak more properly), Than this, that nothing do I see in you (Though churlish thoughts themselves should be your judge), That I can find should merit any hate. K. John. What say these young ones? What say you, my Blanch. That she is bound in honour still to do K. John. Speak then, prince Dauphin: can you love this lady? For I do love her most unfeignedly. K. John. Then do I give Volquessen,† Touraine, Maine, With her to thee; and this addition more, Command thy son and daughter to join hands. K. Phi. It likes us well;-Young princes, close your hands. That I did so, when I was first assured. K. Phi. Now, citizens of Angiers, ope your gates, Let in that amity which you have made; For at St. Mary's chapel, presently, Her presence would have interrupted much: Where is she and her son ? tell me, who knows. Lew. She is sad and passionates at your highness' tent. + Afflanced. Mournful. |