Now powers from home, and discontents at home, Meet in one line; and vast confusion waits (As doth a raven on a sick-fallen beast) The imminent decay of wrested pomp'. Now happy he, whose cloak and cincture can
Hold out this tempest. Bear away that child, And follow me with speed; I'll to the king: A thousand businesses are brief in hand, And heaven itself doth trown upon the land. [Exeunt,
SCENE I
The Court of England.
The circle of my glory.
Pand. Take again
From this my hand, as holding of the Pope, Your sovereign greatness and authority. [French; K.John. Now keep your holy word: go meet the And from his holiness use all your power To stop their marches, 'fore we are inflam’d. Our discontented counties do revolt; Our people quarrel with obedience; Swearing allegiance, and the love of soul, To stranger blood, to foreign royalty. This inundation of mistemper'd humour Rests by you only to be qualify'd. Then pause not; for the present time's so sick, That present medicine must be ministred, Or overthrow incurable ensues,
Faulc. So, on my soul, he did, for aught he knew. But wherefore do you droop? why look you sad? 15 Be great in act, as you have been in thought; Let not the world see fear, and sad distrust, Govern the motion of a kingly eye:
Be stirring as the time; be fire with fire; Threaten the threatner, and out-face the brow Of bragging horror: so shall inferior eyes, That borrow their behaviours from the great, Grow great by your example, and put on The dauntless spirit of resolution. Away; and glister like the god of war, 25 When he intendeth to become the field: Shew boldness, and aspiring confidence. What, shall they seek the lion in his den? [there? And fright him there; and make him tremble Oh, let it not be said!-Forage', and run 30 To meet displeasure farther from the doors; And grapple with him, ere he come so nigh. [me,
Pand. It was my breath that blew this tempest 35 Upon your stubborn usage of the Pope: But, since you are a gentle convertite, My tongue shall hush again this storm of war, And make fair weather in your blustering land. On this Ascension-day, remember well, Upon your oath of service to the Pope, Gol to make the French lay down their arms. [Ex. K. John. Is this Ascension-day? Did not the Say, that, before Ascension-day at noon, [prophet My crown I should give off? Even so I have: I did suppose, it should be on constraint; But, heaven be thank'd, it is but voluntary. Enter Faulconbridge.
K. John. The legate of the Pope hath been with And I have made a happy peace with him; And he hath promis'd to dismiss the powers Led by the Dauphin.
Faule. Oh inglorious league! Shall we, upon the footing of our land, Send fair-play orders, and make compromise, Insinuation, parley, and base truce,
40 To arms invasive? Shall a beardless boy, A cocker'd silken wanton brave our fields, And flesh his spirit in a warlike soil, Mocking the air with colours idly spread, And find no check? Let us, my liege, to arms: Perchance, the cardinal cannot make your peace; Or if he do let it at least be said,
They saw we had a purpose of defence.
K. John. Have thou the ordering of this present Fauic. Away,then, with good courage; yet Iknow, Our party may well meet a prouder foe. [Exeunt,
The Dauphin's camp at St. Edmund's-bury. 55 Enter, in arms, Lewis, Salisbury, Melun, Pembroke, Bigot, and Soldiers.
Faulc. AllKent hath yielded; nothing there holds But Dover castle: London hath receiv'd, [out, 50 Like a kind host, the Dauphin and his powers: Your nobles will not hear you, but are gone To offer service to your enemy; And wild amazement hurries up and down The little number of your doubtful friends, K. John. Would not my lords return to me again, After they heard young Arthur was alive? [streets; Faule. They found him dead, and cast into the An empty casket, where the jewel of life, By some damn'd hand, was robb'd and ta'en away. 60 K. John. That villain Hubert told me he did live.
Lewis. My lord Melun, let this be copied out, And keep it safe for our remembrance: Return the precedent to these lords again; That, having our fair order written down, Both they, and we, perusing o'er these notes,
2 i. e. convert. Wrested pomp means, greatness obtained by violence.
i. e. the original treaty between the Dauphin and the English lords,
May know wherefore we took the sacrament, And keep our faiths firm and inviolable.
Sal. Upon our sides it never shall be broken. And, noble Dauphin, albeit we swear A voluntary zeal, and an unurg'd faith, To your proceedings; yet, believe me, prince, I am not glad that such a sore,of time Should seek a plaister by contemn'd revolt, And heal the inveterate canker of one wound, By making many: Oh, it grieves my soul, That I must draw this metal from my side To be a widow-maker; oh, and there, Where honourable rescue, and defence, Cries out upon the name of Salisbury: But such is the infection of the time, That, for the health and physic of our right, We cannot deal but with the very hand Of stern injustice and confused wrong. And is't not pity, oh, my grieved friends! That we, the sons and children of this isle, Were born to see so sad an hour as this; Wherein we step after a stranger march Upon her gentle bosom, and fill up
Her enemies' ranks, I must withdraw and weep Upon the spot of this enforced cause) To grace the gentry of a land remote, And follow unacquainted colours here? What, here?-O nation,that thou could'st remove! That Neptune's arms, who clippeth thee about, Would bear thee from the knowledge of thyself, And grapple 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 unneighbourly!
To give us warrant for the hand of heaven; And on our actions set the name of right, With holy breath.
Pand. Hail, noble prince of France!
5 The next is this,—king John hath reconcil'd 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 threat'ning colours now wind up, 10 And tame the savage spirit of wild war; That, like a lion foster'd up at hand,
It may lie gently at the foot of peace, And be no further harmful than in shew. [back; Lewis. Your grace shall pardon me, I will not 15 am too high-born to be property'd, To be a secondary at controul,
Or useful serving-man, and instrument, To any sovereign state throughout the world. Your breath first kindled the dead coal of wars 20 Between this chastis'd 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, 25 Acquainted me with interest to this land, Yea, thrust this enterprize into my heart; And come ye now to tell me, John hath made His peace with Rome? What is that peace to me? I by the honour of my marriage-bed, After young Arthur, claim this land for mine; And, now it is half-conquer'd, must I back, Because that John hath made his peace with Rome? Am IRome's slave? What penny hath Rome borne, What men provided, what munition sent,
Lewis. A noble temper dost thou show in this; 35 To underprop this action? Is't not I,
And great affections, wrestling in thy bosom, Do make an earthquake of nobility. Oh, what a noble combat hast thou fought, Between compulsion, and a brave respect'! Let me wipe off this honourable dew, That silverly doth progress on thy cheeks: My heart hath melted at a lady's tears, Being an ordinary inundation;
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, 40 Vive le roy! as I have bank'd their towns? Have I not here the best cards for the game, To win this easy match play'd 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, Lewis. Outside or inside, I will not return Till my attempt so much be glorify'd As to iny ample hope was promised Betore I drew this gallant head of war, 50 And cull'd these fiery spirits from the world, To out-look conquest, and to win renown Even in the jaws of danger and of death.-
But this effusion of such manly drops, This shower, blown up by tempest of the soul, Startles mine eyes, and makes me more amaz'd Than ha! I seen the vaulty top of heaven Figur'd quite o'er with burning meteors. List up thy brow, renowned Salisbury, And with a great heart heave away this storm: Command these waters to those baby eyes, That never saw the giant world enrag'd; 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 35 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,
[Trumpet sounds. What lusty trumpet thus doth summon us? Enter Faulconbridge, attended. Faulc. 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
come, to learn how you have dealt for him; 60 And, as you answer, I do know the scope And warrant limited unto my tongue.
1 This compulsion was the necessity of a reformation in the state; which, according to Salisbury's opinion (who, in his speech preceding, calls it an enforced cause), could only be procured by foreign ams: and the brave respect was the love of his country..
Pand. The Dauphin is too wilful-opposite, And will not temporize with my entreaties; He flatly says, he'll not lay down his arms.
Faulc. By all the blood that ever fury breath'd, The youth says well:-Now hear our English 5 For thus his royalty doth speak in me. [king; He is prepar'd; and reason, too, he should: This apish and unmannerly approach,
This harness'd masque, and unadvised revel, This unhair'd' sauciness, and boyish troops, The king doth smile at ; and is well prepar'd To whip this dwarfish war, these pigmy 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 2; To dive like buckets of concealed wells; To crouch in litter of your stable planks; To lie, like pawns, lock'd 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, Thinking this voice an arined 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 aiery towers, To souse annoyance that comes near his nest.- And you degenerate, you ingrate revolts, You bloody Neroes, ripping up the womb Of your dear mother E. gland, blush for shame : For your own ladies, and pale-visag'd maids, Like Amazons, come tripping after drums; Their thimbles into armed gantlets change, Their neelds to lances, and their gentle hearts To fierce and bloody inclination.
Lewis. There end thy brave, and turn thy face in peace;
We grant, thou canst out-scold us : fare thee well; We hold our time too precious to be spent With such a brabler.
Pand. Give me leave to speak.
Faulc. No, I will speak.
Lewis. We will attend to neither: Strike up the drums; and let the tongue of war Plead for our interest, and our being here. Faulc. Indeed, your drums, being beaten, will cry out;
Lewis. Strike up our drums to find this danger out. Faule. And thou shalt find it, Dauphin, do not doubt.
Alarums. Enter King John and Hubert. K. John. How goes the day with us? oh, tell me, Hubert.
Hub. Badly, I fear: How fares your majesty? 10 K. John. This fever,that hath troubled me solong, Lies heavy on me; Oh, my heart is sick! Enter a Messenger.
Mes. My lord, your valiant kinsman, Faulcon- bridge,
15 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 there.
Mess. Be of good comfort; for the great supply, 20 That was expected by the Dauphin here, Are wreck'd three nights ago on Goodwin-sands. This news was brought to Richard* but even now: The French fight coldly, and retire themselves
K. John Ah me! this tyrant fever burns me up, 25 And will not let me welcome this good news.- Set on toward Swinstead: to my litter straight; Weakness possesseth me, and I am faint. [Exe. SCENE IV. The French Camp.
Enter Salisbury, Pembroke, and Bigot. Sal. I did not think the king so stor'd with friends. Pemb. Uponce again; put spirit in the French; If they miscarry, we miscarry too.
Sul. That misbegotten devil, Faulconbridge, In spight of spight, alone upholds the day. [held. Pemb. They say, king John, sore sick, hath left the Enter Melun wounded, and led by soldiers. Melun. Lead me to the revolts of England here. Sal. When we were happy, we had other names. Pemb. It is the count Melun.
Mel. Fly, noble English, you are bought and Unthread the rude eye of rebellion,
45 And welcome home again discarded faith. Seek out king John, and fall before his feet: For, if the French be lords of this loud day, He means to recompense the pains you take, By cutting off your heads: Thus hath he sworn, 50 And I with him, and many more with me,
And so shall you, being beaten : Do but start An echo with the clamour of thy drum, And even at hand a druin is ready brac'd, That shall reverberate all as loud as thine; Sound but another, and another shail, As loud as thine, rattle the welkin's ear, And mock the deep-mouth'd thunder: for at hand 55 (Not trusting to this halting-legate here, Whom he hath us'd rather for sport than need) Is warlike John; and in his forehead sits A bare-ribb'd death, whose office is this day To feast upon whole thousands of the French.
Upon the altar at Saint Edmund's-bury; Eyen on that altar where we swore to you Dear amity and everlasting love.
Sal. May this be possible! may this be true! Melun. Have I not hideous death within my Retaining but a quantity of life; [view,
Which bleeds away, even as a form of wax Resolveth from his figure 'gainst the fire"? What in the world should make me now deceive, 160 Since I must lose the use of all deceit ?
i. e. unbearded sauciness, alluding to the Dauphin's youth. To take the hatch, is to leap the
An aiery is the nest of an eagle.
Meaning, Faulconbridge. Alluding to the Why
Why should I then be false; since it is true That I must die here, and live hence by truth? I say again, if Lewis do win the day, He is forsworn, if ever those eyes of yours Behold another day break in the east:
But eventhis night,-whose black contagious breath Already smokes about the burning crest Of the old, feeble, and day-wearied sun,- Even this ill night, your breathing shall expire; Paying the fine of rated treachery,
Even with a treacherous fine of all your lives, If Lewis by your assistance win the day. Commend me to one Hubert with your king; The love of him,--and this respect besides, For that my grandsire was an Englishman,- Awakes my conscience to confess all this. In lieu whereof, I pray you, bear me hence From forth the noise and rumour of the field; Where I may think the remnant of my thoughts In peace, and part this body and my soul With contemplation and devout desires.
Of thine affairs as well as thou of mine? Faule. Hubert, I think.
Hub. Thou hast a perfect thought:
I will, upon all hazards, well believe
Thou art my friend, that know'st my tongue so Who art thou?
[weil: Faulc. Who thou wilt: an if thou please, 25 Thou may'st befriend me so much, as to think I come one way of the Plantagenets.
Sal. We do believe thee,-and beshrew my But I do love the favour and the form Of this most fair occasion, by the which We will untread the steps of damned flight; And like a bated and retired flood, Leaving our rankness and irregular course, Stoop low within those bounds we have o'er-look'd, And calmly run on in obedience, Even to our ocean, to our great king John. My arm shall give thee help to bear thee hence; For I do see the cruel pangs of death Right in thine eye.-Away, my friends! New And happy newness, that intends old right. [Exeunt, leading off Melun 35 SCENE V.
Mes. Where is my prince, the Dauphin? Lewis. Here:-What news?
Mes. The count Melun is slain; the English By his persuasion, are again fallen off: And your supplies, which you have wish'd so long, Are cast away, and sunk, on Goodwin-sands. Lewis. Ah foul shrewd news!-Beshrew thy very heart!
I did not think to be so sad to-night,
As this hath made me.-Who was he, that said, King John did fly, an hour or two before,
The stumbling night did part our weary powers?
Hub. Unkind remembrance! thou, and eyeless night,
Have done me shame :--Brave soldier, pardon me, That any accent, breaking from thy tongue, Should scape the true acquaintance of mine ear. Faulc. Come, come, sans compliment, what
[night, Hub. Why, here walk I, in the black brow of To find you out.
Faulc. Brief, then, and what's the news? Hub. O my sweet sir, news fitted to the night, Black, fearful, comfortless, and horrible. [news; Faulc. Shew me the very wound of this ill 40 I am no woman, I'll not swoon at it.
Hub. The king, I fear, is poison'd by a monk? I left him almost speechless, and broke out To acquaint you with this evil, that you might The better arm you to the sudden time, 45 Than if you had at leisure known of this.
Faulc. How did he take it? who did taste to him? Hub. A monk, I tell you; a resolved villain, Whose bowels suddenly burst out: the king Yet speaks, and, peradventure, may recover. 50 Faule. Who didst thou leave to tend his majesty? Hub. Why, know you not? the lords are all come back,
And brought prince Henry in their company; At whose request the king hath pardoned them, And they are all about his majesty.
Faule. Withhold thine indignation, mighty hea And temptus not to bear above our power!-[ven, I'll tell thee, Hubert, half my power this night, Passing these flats, are taken by the tide, 60 These Lincoln washes have devoured them; Myself, well-mounted, hardly have escap'd. Away, before! conduct me to the king:
I doubt, he will be dead, or ere I come. [Exeunt,
! Right signifies immediate; this sense, however, is now obsolete.
That, being brought into the open air, It would allay the burning quality Of that fell poison which assaileth him. Hen.Let him be brought into theorchard here.- Doth he still rage?
Pemb. He is more patient
Than when you left him: even now he sung.
Hen. O vanity of sickness! fierce extremes, In their continuance, will not feel themselves. Death, having prey'd upon the outward parts, Leaves them invisible his siege is now, Against the mind, the which he pricks and wounds With many legions of strange fantasies; Which in their throng and press to that last hold, Confound themselves. 'Tis strange, that death should sing.-
I am the cygnet to this pale faint swan, Who chaunts a doleful hymn to his own death; And, from the organ-pipe of frailty, sings His soul and body to their lasting rest.
Sal. Be of good comfort, prince; for you are born To set a form upon that indigest Which he hath left so shapeless and so rude. King John brought in.
K. John. Ay, marry, now my soul hath elbow
It would not out at windows, nor at doors. There is so hot a summer in my bosom, That all my bowels crumble up to dust: I am a scribbled form, drawn with a pen Upon a parchment; and against this fire Do I shrink up.
My liege! my lord!-But now a king,-now thus, Hen. Even so must I run on, and even so stop. 15 What surety of the world, what hope, what stay, When this was now a king, and now is clay!
Faule. Art thou gone so? I do but stay behind, To do the office for thee of revenge; And then my soul shall wait on thee to heaven, 20 As it on earth hath been thy servant still.- Now, now, you stars, that move in your right spheres, [faiths; Where be your powers? Shew now your mended And instantly return with me again,
25 To push destruction, and perpetual shame, Out of the weak door of our fainting laud: Straight let us seek, or straight we shall be sought; The Dauphin rages at our very heels,
Sal. It seems, you know not then so much as we 30 The cardinal Pandulph is within at rest, Who half an hour since came from the Dauphin; And brings from him such offers of our peace As we with honour and respect may take, With purpose presently to leave this war.
Faule. He will the rather do it, when he sees Ourselves well sinewed to our defence.
Sal. Nay, it is in a manner done already; For many carriages he hath dispatch'd To the sea-side, and put his cause and quarrel 40 To the disposing of the cardinal:
Hen. How fares your majesty? [cast off: 45 K. John. Poisoned,-ill fare;-dead, forsook, And none of will bid the winter come, you To thrust his icy fingers in my maw; Nor let my kingdom's rivers take their course Through my burn'd bosom; nor intreat the north 50 To make his bleak winds kiss my parched lips, And comfortine with cold:--I do not ask you much, I beg cold comfort; and you are so strait, And so ingrateful, you deny me that.
Hen. Oh, that there were some virtue in my tears, That might relieve you!
K. John. The salt of them is hot.— Within me is a hell; and there the poison Is, as a fiend, confin'd to tyrannize On unreprieveable condemned blood.
Enter Faulconbridge.
Faulc. Oh, I am scalded with my violent motion, And spleen of speed to see your majesty.
K.John.Oh,cousin, thou art come to set mine eye: The tackle of my heart is crack'd and burnt; And all the shrowds, wherewith my life should sail, Are turned to one thread, one little hair;
With whom yourself, myself, and other lords, If you think meet, this afternoon will post To consummate this business happily.
Faulc. Let it be so:-And you, my noble prince, With other princes that may best bespar'd, Shall wait upon your father's funeral.
Hen. At Worcester must his body be interr'd; For so he will'd it.
Faulc. Thither shall it then. And happily may your sweet self put on The lineal state and glory of the land!
To whom, with all submission, on my knee, I do bequeath my faithful services And true subjection everlastingly.
Sal. And the like tender of our love we make, To rest without a spot for evermore. [thanks, Hen. I have a kind soul, that would give you And knows not how to do it, but with tears.
Faulc. Oh, let us pay the time but needful woe, 60 Since it hath been beforehand with our griefs.This England never did, nor never shall, Lye at the proud foot of a conqueror, But when it first did help to wound itself. Now these her princes are come home again, 65 Come the three corners of the world in arms, [rue, And we shall shock them: nought shall make us If England to itself dorest but true.[Exeunt Omnes.
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