Which Heaven shall take in nature of a fee; Ay, with these crystal beads Heaven shall be bribed To do him justice, and revenge on you. Eli. Thou monstrous slanderer of heaven and earth! Const. Thou monstrous injurer of heaven and earth; Call not me slanderer; thou, and thine, usurp The dominations, royalties, and rights, Of this oppressed boy. This is thy eldest son's son, Thy sins are visited in this poor child; I have but this to say, That he's not only plagued for her sin, Eli. Thou unadvised scold, I can produce A will, that bars the title of thy son. Const. Ay, who doubts that? A will! a wicked will; A woman's will; a cankered grandam's will! K. Phi. Peace, lady; pause, or be more temperate. It ill beseems this presence, to cry aim2 1 The key to this obscure passage is contained in the last speech of Constance, where she alludes to the denunciation of the second commandment of "visiting the iniquities of the parents upon the children unto the third and fourth generation." Young Arthur is here represented as not only suffering from the guilt of his grandmother, but also by her in person, she being made the very instrument of his sufferings. So that he is plagued on her account, and with her plague, which is her sin, i. e. (taking, by a common figure, the cause for the consequence) the penalty entailed upon it. His injury, or the evil he suffers, her sin brings upon him, and her injury, or the evils she inflicts, he suffers from her, as the beadle to her sin, or executioner of the punishment annexed to it. 2 i. e. to encourage. It is a term taken from archery. To these ill-tuned repetitions. Some trumpet summon hither to the walls Trumpets sound. Enter Citizens 1 Cit. Who is it that hath warned us to the walls? K. Phi. 'Tis France, for England. K. John. England, for itself. You men of Angiers, and my loving subjects,K. Phi. You loving men of Angiers, Arthur's sub jects, Our trumpet called you to this gentle parle.1 K. John. For our advantage;-therefore, hear us first. These flags of France, that are advanced here And merciless proceeding by these French, 1 Conference. Which trust accordingly, kind citizens, And let us in, your king; whose labored spirits, 1 Crave harborage within your city walls. K. Phi. When I have said, make answer to us both. Lo, in this right hand, whose protection Is most divinely vowed upon the right And king o'er him, and all that he enjoys. In warlike march these greens before your town; Than the constraint of hospitable zeal, To pay that duty, which you truly owe, 2 To him that owes it; namely, this young prince; With unhacked swords, and helmets all unbruised, 'Tis not the roundure of your old-faced walls 1 Cit. In brief, we are the king of England's sub jects; For him, and in his right, we hold this town. K. John. Acknowledge then the king, and let me in. 1 Cit. That can we not: but he that proves the king, To him will we prove loyal; till that time, Have we rammed up our gates against the world. K. John. Doth not the crown of England prove the king? And, if not that, I bring you witnesses, Twice fifteen thousand hearts of England's breed,— Bast. Bastards, and else. K. John. To verify our title with their lives. K. Phi. As many, and as well-born bloods as those, Bast. Some bastards too. K. Phi. Stand in his face, to contradict his claim. 1 Cit. Till you compound whose right is worthiest, We, for the worthiest, hold the right from both. K. John. Then God 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. Phi. Amen, Amen!-mount, chevaliers! to arms! Bast. St. George,—that swinged 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, [To AUSTRIA.] with your lioness, I'd set an ox-head to your lion's hide, And make a monster of you. Aust. Peace; no more. Bast. O, tremble; for you hear the lion roar. K. John. Up higher to the plain; where we'll set forth, In best appointment, all our regiments. Bast. Speed, then, to take advantage of the field. K. Phi. It shall be so;-[To LEWIS.] and at the other hill Command the rest to stand.—God, and our right! [Exeunt. SCENE II. The same. Alarums and Excursions; then a Retreat. Enter a French Herald, with trumpets, to the gates. 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 scattered on the bleeding ground. Many a widow's husband groveling lies, Coldly embracing the discolored earth; And victory, with little loss, doth play Upon the dancing banners of the French; Who are at hand, triumphantly displayed, To enter conquerors, and to proclaim Arthur of Bretagne, England's king, and yours. Enter an English Herald, with trumpets. E. Her. Rejoice, you men of Angiers, ring your bells; King John, your king and England's, doth approach, Their armors, that marched hence so silver-bright, That is removed by a staff of France; Our colors do return in those same hands That did display them when we first marched forth; And, like a jolly troop of huntsmen,1 come Our lusty English, all with purpled hands, 1 It was anciently one of the savage practices of the chase for all to stain their hands in the blood of the deer as a trophy. |