And then we shall repent each drop of blood,
That hot rash haste so indiscreetly shed.

Enter CHATILLION.

K. Phi. A wonder, lady! Lo! upon thy wish,
Our messenger Chatillion is arriv'd.—

What England says, say briefly, gentle lord.
We coldly pause for thee; Chatillion, speak.

Chat. Then turn your forces from this paltry siege,
And stir them up against a mightier task.
England, impatient of your just demands,
Hath put himself in arms; the adverse winds,
Whose leisure I have staid, have given him time
To land his legions all as soon as I.

His marches are expedient to this town,
His forces strong, his soldiers confident.
With him along is come the Mother-queen,
An Atè3, stirring him to blood and strife;
With her her niece, the Lady Blanch of Spain;
With them a bastard of the King's deceas'd.
And all the unsettled humours of the land
-Rash, inconsiderate, fiery voluntaries,
With ladies' faces, and fierce dragons' spleens-
Have sold their fortunes at their native homes,
Bearing their birthrights proudly on their backs,
To make a hazard of new fortunes here.
In brief, a braver choice of dauntless spirits,
Than now the English bottoms have waft o'er,
Did never float upon the swelling tide,
To do offence and scath in Christendom.

[Drums beat.

The interruption of their churlish drums
Cuts off more circumstance. They are at hand,
To parley, or to fight; therefore, prepare.

K. Phi. How much unlook'd for is this expedition!
Aust. By how much unexpected, by so much

We must awake endeavour for defence;

For courage mounteth with occasion.

Let them be welcome then, we are prepar'd.

Enter KING JOHN, ELINOR, BLANCH, the Bastard, PEMBROKE, and Forces.

K. John. Peace be to France; if France in peace permit

Our just and lineal entrance to our own:

If not; bleed France, and Peace ascend to heaven;
Whiles we, God's wrathful agent, do correct
Their proud contempt that beats his Peace to heaven.
K. Phi. Peace be to England; if that War return
From France to England, there to live in peace.
England we love; and, for that England's sake,
With burden of our armour here we sweat.
This toil of ours should be a work of thine;
But thou from loving England art so far,
That thou hast under-wrought his lawful King,
Cut off the sequence of posterity,
Outfaced infant-state, and done a rape
Upon the maiden-virtue of the crown.
Look here upon thy brother Geffrey's face.

These eyes, these brows, were moulded out of his :
This little abstract doth contain that large,
Which died in Geffrey; and the hand of Time
Shall draw this brief into as huge a volume.
That Geffrey was thy elder brother born,
And this his son; England was Geffrey's right,
And this is Geffrey's. In the name of God,
How comes it then, that thou art call'd a king,
When living blood doth in these temples beat,
Which owe the crown that thou o'ermasterest?
K. John. From whom hast thou this great commis-
sion, France,

To draw my answer from thy articles?

K. Phi. From that supernal Judge, that stirs good thoughts

In any breast of strong authority,

To look into the blots and stains of right.

That Judge hath made me guardian to this boy;
Under whose warrant, I impeach thy wrong,

And, by whose help, I mean to chastise it.
K. John. Alack! thou dost usurp authority.
K. Phi. Excuse; it is to beat usurping down.
Eli. Who is it thou dost call usurper, France?
Consi. Let me make answer;-thy usurping son.
Eli. Out, insolent! thy bastard shall be King;
That thou mayst be a queen, and check the world!
Const. My bed was ever to thy son as true
As thine was to thy husband, and this boy
Liker in feature to his father Geffrey,

Than thou and John in manners; being as like,
As rain to water, or devil to his dam.

My boy a bastard! By my soul, I think,

His father never was so true begot;

It cannot be, an if thou wert his mother.

Eli. There's a good mother, boy, that blots thy father.

Const. There's a good grandam, boy, that would blot thee.

Aust. Peace!

Bast.

Aust.

Hear the crier.

What the devil art thou?

Bast. One that will play the devil, sir, with you, An 'a may catch your hide and you alone. You are the hare of whom the proverb goes, Whose valour plucks dead lions by the beard. I'll smoke your skin-coat, an I catch you right; Sirrah, look to't; i' faith, I will, i' faith.

Blanch. Oh, well did he become that lion's robe, That did disrobe the lion of that robe!

Bast. It lies as sightly on the back of him,

As great Alcides' shew'd' upon an ass.

But, ass, I'll take that burden from your back;
Or lay on that shall make shoulders crack.

your

Aust. What cracker is this same, that deafs our ears With this abundance of superfluous breath? King Philip determine what we shall do straight. K. Phi. Women and fools, break off your confer

5

ence.

King John, this is the very sum of all,-
England, and Ireland, Anjowe,6 Toraine, Maine,
In right of Arthur do I claim of thee.

Wilt thou resign them, and lay down thy arms?
K. John. My life as soon. I do defy thee, France.
Arthur of Britaine, yield thee to my hand;

And, out of my dear love, I'll give thee more
Than e'er the coward hand of France can win.
Submit thee, boy.

Eli.

Come to thy grandam, child. Const. Do, child, go to it grandam, child; Give grandam kingdom, and it grandam will Give it a plum, a cherry, and a fig.

There's a good grandam.

Arth. Good my mother, peace! I would that I were low-laid in my grave; I am not worth this coil that's made for me.

Eli. His mother shames him so, poor boy, he weeps. Const. Now shame upon you, whe'r she does or no! His grandam's wrongs, and not his mother's shames, Draw those Heaven-moving pearls from his poor eyes, Which Heaven shall take in nature of a fee; Ay, with those crystal-beads Heaven shall be brib'd 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, Infortunate in nothing but in thee;

Thy sins are visited in this poor child;

The canon of the law is laid on him,
Being but the second generation
Removed from thy sin-conceiving womb.
K. John. Bedlam, have done.

Const.

I have but this to say,

That he is not only plagued for her sin,
But God hath made her sin and her the plague
On this removed issue;-plagued for her,

And with her plague; her sin, his injury;
Her injury, the beadle to her sin:
All punish'd in the person of this child,
And all for her... a plague upon her!
Eli. Thou unadvised scold,

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 canker'd grandam's will!

K. Phi. Peace, lady; pause, or be more temperate: It ill beseems this presence, to cry aim

To these ill-tuned repetitions.

Some trumpet summon hither to the walls
These men of Angiers; let us hear them speak,
Whose title they admit, Arthur's or John's.

Trumpets sound. Enter Citizens upon the Walls.
Cit. Who is it that hath warn'd 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 call'd you to this gentle parle.

K. John. For our advantage; therefore, hear us

first.

These flags of France, that are advanced here
Before the eye and prospect of your town,
Have hither march'd to your endamagement.
The cannons have their bowels full of wrath;
And ready mounted are they, to spit forth
Their iron indignation 'gainst your walls.
All preparation for a bloody siege,

And merciless proceeding by these French,

Come 'fore your city's eyes, your winking gates;
And, but for our approach, those sleeping stones,
That as a waist do girdle you about,

By the compulsion of their ordinance,
By this time from their fixed beds of lime
Had been dishabited, and wide havoc made