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,
We'll put thee down, 'gainst whom these arms
we bear,

Or add a royal number to the dead,
Gracing the scroll, that tells of this war's loss,
With slaughter coupled to the name of kings.
Bast. Ha, majesty! how high thy glory

towers.

When the rich blood of kings is set on fire!
O, now doth death line his dead chaps with
steel;

The swords of soldiers are his teeth, his fangs;
And now he feasts, mousing the flesh of men,
In undetermin'd differences of kings.-
Why stand these royal fronts amazed thus?
Cry, havoc, kings! back to the stainèd field,
You equal potents, fiery-kindled spirits!
Then let confusion of one part confirm
The other's peace; till then, blows, blood, and
death!
[admit?
K. John. Whose party do the townsinen yet
K. Phi. Speak, citizens, for England; who's
your king?

1 Cit. The king of England, when we know
the king.

Smacks it not something of the policy

K. John. Now, by the sky that hangs above
our heads,

I like it well.-France, shall we knit our powers,
And lay this Angiers even with the ground;
Then, after, fight who shall be king of it?

Bast. An if thou hast the metal of a king,-
Being wrong'd, as we are, by this peevish
Turn thou the mouth of thy artillery, [town,-
As we will ours, against these saucy walls;
And when that we have dash'd them to the
ground,

Why, then defy each other, and, pell-mell,
Make work upon ourselves, for heaven or hell.
K. Phi. Let it be so.-Say, where will you

assault?

Austria and France shoot in each other's mouth :
I'll stir them to it.-Come, away, away!

1 Cit. Hear us, great kings: vouchsafe a
while to stay,
[league;

[his right. And I shall show you peace, and fair-fac'd K. Phi. Know him in us, that here hold up Win you this city without stroke, or wound; K. John. In us, that are our own great de-Rescue those breathing lives to die in beds, puty, That here come sacrifices for the field: Perséver not, but hear me, mighty kings. K. John. Speak on, with favour; we are [Blanch,

And bear possession of our person here;
Lord of our presence, Angiers, and of you.
1 Cit. A greater power than we denies all
And, till it be undoubted, we do lock [this;
Our former scruple in our strong-barr'd gates;
King'd of our fears; until our fears, resolv'd,
Be by some certain king purg'd and depos'd.
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.
Your royal presences be rul'd by me:
Do like the mutines of Jerusalem,
Be friends awhile, and both conjointly bend
Your sharpest deeds of malice on this town.
By east and west let France and England
[mouths,
Their battering cannon, charged to the
Till their soul-fearing clamours have brawl'd
down

mount

The flinty ribs of this contemptuous city :
I'd play incessantly upon these jades,
Even till unfenced desolation
Leave them as naked as the vulgar air.
That done, dissever your united strengths,
And part your mingled colours once again;
Turn face to face, and bloody point to point;
Then, in a moment, fortune shall cull forth
Out of one side her happy minion,
To whom in favour she shall give the day,
And kiss him with a glorious victory.
How like you this wild counsel, mighty states?

bent to hear.

1 Cit. That daughter there of Spain, the lady
Is near to England: look upon the years
Of Lewis the Dauphin, and that lovely maid.
If lusty love should go in quest of beauty,
Where should he find it fairer than in Blanch?
If zealous love should go in search of virtue,
Where should he find it purer than in Blanch?
If love ambitious sought a match of birth,
Whose veins bound richer blood than lady
Blanch?

Such as she is, in beauty, virtue, birth,
Is the young Dauphin every way complete;
If not complete of, say, he is not she:
And she again wants nothing, to name want,
If want it be not, that she is not he :
He is the half part of a blessed man,
Left to be finished by such a she;
And she a fair divided excellence,
Whose fulness of perfection lies in him.
O, two such silver currents, when they join,
Do glorify the banks that bound them in ;
And two such shores to two such streams made
one,
[kings,
Two such controlling bounds shall you be,
To these two princes, if you marry them.
This union shall do more than battery can
To our fast-closed gates; for, at this match,
With swifter spleen than powder can enforce,
The mouth of passage shall we fling wide ope,
And give you entrance: but without this match,

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,
Talks as familiarly of roaring lions, [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;

He gives the bastinado with his tongue;
Our ears are cudgell'd; not a word of his,
But buffets better than a fist of France :
Zounds! I was never so bethump'd with words,
Since I first call'd my brother's father dad.

Eli. Son, list to this conjunction, make this
match;

Give with our niece a dowry large enough:
For by this knot thou shalt so surely tie
Thy now unsur'd assurance to the crown,
That yond' green boy shall have no sun to ripe
The bloom that promiseth a mighty fruit.
I see a yielding in the looks of France;
Mark, how they whisper: urge them while
Are capable of this ambition, [their souls
Lest zeal, now melted, by the windy breath
Of soft petitions, pity, and remorse,
Cool and congeal again to what it was.

1 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 besieg'd)
Find liable to our crown and dignity,
Shall gild her bridal bed; and make her rich
In titles, honours, and promotions,
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,
The shadow of myself form'd in her eye;
Which, being but the shadow of your son,
Becomes a sun, and makes your son a shadow:
I do protest, I never lov'd myself,
Till now infixèd I beheld myself
Drawn in the flattering table of her eye.

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.

[mine.

Blanch. My uncle's will in this respect is
If he sees aught in you that makes him like,
That anything he sees, which moves his liking,
I can with ease translate it to my will;
Or if you will, to speak more properly,
I will enforce it easily to my love.
Further I will not flatter you, my lord,
That all I see in you is worthy love,
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 niece?
[do
Blanch. That she is bound in honour still to
What you in wisdom will 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. Then do I give Volquessen, Tou

raine, Maine,

That I did so, when I was first assur'd.

K. Phi. Now, citizens of Angiers, ope your
gates,

Let in that amity which you have made;
For at Saint Mary's chapel presently
The rites of marriage shall be solemniz'd.-
Is not the lady Constance in this troop?—
I know she is not; for this match, made up,
Her presence would have interrupted much :
Where is she and her son? tell me, who knows.
Lew. She is sad and passionate at your
-highness' tent.

K. Phi. And, by my faith, this league, that
we have made,

Will give her sadness very little cure. Brother of England, how may we content This widow lady? In her right we came ; Which we, God knows, have turn'd another To our own vantage. [way, K. John. We will heal up all; For we'll create young Arthur duke of Bretagne And earl of Richmond; and this rich fair town We make him lord of.--Call the lady Constance; Some speedy messenger bid her repair [Whispers with Blanch. To our solemnity-I trust we shall, Bast. Drawn in the flattering table of her If not fill up the measure of her will, eye![brow!-Yet in some measure satisfy her so, Hang'd in the frowning wrinkle of her That we shall stop her exclamation. And quarter'd in her heart!-he doth espy Go we, as well as haste will suffer us,

Whom zeal and charity brought to the field
As God's own soldier,) rounded in the ear
With that same purpose-changer, that sly devil;
That broker, that still breaks the pate of faith;
That daily break-vow; he that wins of all,
Of kings, of beggars, old men, young men,
maids,-

Who having no external thing to lose

[that;

Like a proud river peering o'er his bounds?
Why holds thine eye that lamentable rheum,
Then speak again; not all thy former tale,
Be these sad signs confirmers of thy words?
But this one word, whether thy tale be true.
believe you think them
Sal. As true, as

false,

Const. O, if thou teach me to believe this

sorrow,

But the word maid, cheats the poor maid of
That smooth-fac'd gentleman, tickling com-
Commodity, the bias of the world; [modity,- That give you cause to prove my saying true.
The world, who of itself is peized well,
Made to run even upon even ground,
Till this advantage, this vile drawing bias,
This sway of motion, this commodity,
Makes it take head from all indifferency,
From all direction, purpose, course, intent:
And this same bias, this commodity,
This bawd, this broker, this all-changing word,
Ciapp'd on the outward eye of fickle France,
Hath drawn him from his own determin'd aid,
From a resolv'd and honourable war,
To a most base and vile-concluded peace.-
And why rail I on this commodity?

But for because he hath not woo'd me yet:
Not that I have the power to clutch my hand,
When his fair angels would salute my palm;
But for my hand, as unattempted yet,
Like a poor beggar, raileth on the rich.
Well, whiles I am a beggar, I will rail,
And say,-There is no sin, but to be rich;
And being rich, my virtue then shall be,
To say,-There is no vice, but beggary:
Since kings break faith upon commodity,
Gain, be my lord; for I will worship thee!

ACT III.

[Exit.

The French King's Tent.
SCENE I.-France.
Enter Constance, Arthur, and Salisbury.
Const. Gone to be married! gone to swear a
[friends!
peace!
False blood to false blood join'd.. Gone to be
Shall Lewis have Blanch, and Blanch those
provinces ?

It is not so; thou hast misspoke, misheard ;
Be well advis'd, tell o'er thy tale again :
It cannot be; thou dost but say 'tis so:
I trust, I may not trust thee; for thy word
Is but the vain breath of a common man :
Believe me, I do not believe thee, man;
I have a king's oath to the contrary.
Thou shalt be punish'd for thus frighting me,

Teach thou this sorrow how to make me die;
And let belief and life encounter so,
As doth the fury of two desperate men,
Which in the very meeting, fall and die !—
Lewis marry Blanch? O boy, then where art
[me?-
France friend with England! what becomes of
This news hath made thee a most ugly man.
Fellow, be gone: I cannot brook thy sight;

thou?

Sal. What other harm have I, good lady,

done,

But spoke the harm that is by others done?
Const. Which harm within itself so heinous is,
As it makes harmful all that speak of it.

Arth. I do beseech you, madam, be content.
Const. If thou, that bidd'st me be content,

wert grim,

Ugly, and slanderous to thy mother's womb,
Full of unpleasing blots and sightless stains,
Lame, foolish, crooked, swart, prodigious,
Patch'd with foul moles and eye-offending
marks,

I would not care, I then would be content;
For then I should not love thee; no, nor thou
Become thy great birth, nor deserve a crown.
But thou art fair; and at thy birth, dear boy,
Nature and Fortune join'd to make thee great :
Of Nature's gifts thou may'st with lilies boast,
And with the half-blown rose: but Fortune,, O!
She is corrupted, chang'd, and won from thee;
She adulterates hourly with thine uncle John;
France
And with her golden hand hath pluck'd on

To tread down fair respect of sovereignty,
And made his majesty the bawd to theirs.
France is a bawd to Fortune, and king John,---
That strumpet Fortune, that usurping John !--
Tell me, thou fellow, is not France forsworn?
Envenom him with words; or get thee gone,
And leave those woes alone, which I alone
Am bound to under-bear.
Sal.

Pardon me, madam.

I may not go without you to the kings. Thou Fortune's champion, that dost never Const. Thou mayst, thou shalt; I will not But when her humorous ladyship is by [fight

To curse the fair proceedings of this day:
Have I not pawn'd to you my majesty?
Const. You have beguil'd me with a counter-Tell him this tale; and from the mouth of

Scene 1.

KING JOHN.

Thou shalt stand curs'd and excommunicate:
And blessed shall he be that doth revolt
From his allegiance to a heretic;

And meritorious shall that hand be call'd,
Canonized, and worshipp'd as a saint,
That takes away by any secret course
Thy hateful life.

Const.

O, lawful let it be

That I have room with Rome to curse awhile!
Good father cardinal, cry thou amen

To my keen curses; for, without my wrong,
There is no tongue hath power to curse him
[my curse.
right.
Pand. There's law and warrant, lady, for
Const. And for mine too: when law can do
no right,

Let it be lawful that law bar no wrong:
Law cannot give my child his kingdom here;
For he that holds his kingdom holds the law:
Therefore, since law itself is perfect wrong,
How can the law forbid my tongue to curse?
Pand. Philip of France, on peril of a curse,
Let the hand of that arch-heretic;
go
And raise the power of France upon his head,
Unless he do submit himself to Rome.
Eli. Look'st thou pale, France? do not let
[repent,
go thy hand.
Const. Look to that, devil! lest that France
And by disjoining hands, hell lose a soul.
Aust. King Philip, listen to the cardinal.
Bast. And hang a calf's-skin on his recreant
[wrongs,
limbs.
Aust. Well, ruffian, I must pocket up these
Because-

Bast.

Your breeches best may carry them.
[dinal?
K. John. Philip, what say'st thou to the
cardinal?
Const. What should he say, but as the car-
Lew. Bethink you, father; for the difference
Is, purchase of a heavy curse from Rome,
Or the light loss of England for a friend :
Forego the easier.
That's the curse of Rome.
Blanch.
Const. O Lewis, stand fast! the devil tempts
thee here,

In likeness of a new untrimmed bride.
Blanch. The lady Constance speaks not
from her faith,
But from her need.

O, if thou grant my need,
Const.
Which only lives but by the death of faith,
That need must needs infer this principle,-
That faith would live again by death of need!
O, then, tread down my need, and faith mounts
up;

Pand. What canst thou say, but will perplex
thee more,

If thou stand excommunicate and curs'd?

K. Phi. Good reverend father, make my

person yours,

And tell me how you would bestow yourself.
This royal hand and mine are newly knit,
And the conjunction of our inward souls
With all religious strength of sacred vows;
Married in league, coupled and link'd together
The latest breath that gave the sound of words,
Between our kingdoms and our royal selves;
Was deep-sworn faith, peace, amity, true love,
And even before this truce, but new before,-
To clap this royal bargain up of peace,—
No longer than we well could wash our hands,
Heaven knows, they were besmear'd and over-
[paint
stain'd
The fearful difference of incensed kings:
With slaughter's pencil, where revenge did
And shall these hands, so lately purg'd of blood,
Unyoke this seizure and this kind regreet?
So newly join'd in love, so strong in both,
heaven,
Play fast and loose with faith? so jest with

Make such unconstant children of ourselves,
As now again to snatch our palm from palm ;
Of smiling peace to march a bloody host,
Unswear faith sworn; and on the marriage bed
And make a riot on the gentle brow
Of true sincerity? O, holy sir,
My reverend father, let it not be so!
Some gentle order; and then we shall be bless'd
Out of your grace, devise, ordain, impose
Pand. All form is formless, order orderless,
To do your pleasure, and continue friends.
Save what is opposite to England's love.
Therefore to arms! be champion of our church!
A mother's curse, on her revolting son.
Or let the church, our mother, breathe her curse,
France, thou may'st hold a serpent by the
A chafed lion by the mortal paw,
A fasting tiger safer by the tooth,
K. Phi. I may disjoin my hand, but not my
[faith;
Than keep in peace that hand which thou dost
faith.
Pand. So mak'st thou faith an enemy to
And, like a civil war, sett'st oath to oath,
Thy tongue against thy tongue. O, let thy vow
form'd;
First made to heaven, first be to heaven per-

[tongue, [hold.

That is, to be the champion of our church! What since thou swor'st is sworn against thyFor that which thou hast sworn to do amiss, And may not be performed by thyself: [self, Keep my need up, and faith is trodden down. Is not amiss when it is truly done; [well! The truth is then most done not doing it : K. John. The king is mov'd, and answers And being not done, where doing tends to ill, Const. O, be remov'd from him, and answer The better act of purposes mistook Aust. Do so, king Philip; hang no more in Is to mistake again, though indirect, [sweet lout. Yet indirection thereby grows direct, doubt. Bast. Hang nothing but a calf's-skin, most And falsehood falsehood cures; as fire cools It is religion that doth make vows kept ; K. Phi. I am perplex'd, and know not what Within the scorched veins of one new burn'd. to say.

not to this.

[fire