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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, In dreadful trial of our kingdom's King! 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
your den, sirrah, with your lioness, I'd set an ox-head to your lion's hide, And make a monster of you.
Aust. Peace; no more.
(Exeunt AUSTRIA and FAULCON BRIDGE.
Enter French HERALD with a TRUMPET, who sounds
a Parley. F. Her. You men of Angiers, open
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 King John, your King and England's, doth approach, Commander of this hot malicious day! Our colours do return in those same hands That did display them when we first march'd forth; And, like a jolly troop of huntsmen, come Our lusty English all with purpled hands, Dy'd in the dying slaughter of their foes : Open your gates, and give the victors way.
Cit. Heralds, from off our towers we might behold, From first to last, the onset and retire Of both your armies; whose equality By our best eyes cannot be censured; 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.
away? Say, shall the current of our right run on? K. Phil. England, thou hast not sav'd one drop
put thee down, 'gainst whom these arms we bear, Or add a royal number to the dead,
Faul. Ha, majesty! how high thy glory towers, When the rich blood of kings is set on fire! Why stand these royal fronts amazed thus ?
Cry, havoc, Kings ! back to the stained field,
K. John. Whose party do the townsmen yet admit?
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
K. Phil. 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. 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
Faul. Here's a stay.
As maids of thirteen do of puppy-dogs!
Cit. Why answer not the double majesties
[King John, King PHILIP, Lewis, and
BLANCH, talk apart.] Faul. 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, 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.
K. Phil. It likes us well ;--Young Princes, close
Now, Citizens of Angiers, ope your gates,
[Exeunt CITIZENS. Is not the Lady Constance in this troop?