Puslapio vaizdai

Unless thou let his filver water keep

A peaceful progrefs to the ocean.


K. Philip, England, thou haft not fav'd one drop of
In this hot tryal, more than we of France;
Rather loft more. And by this hand I fwear
That sways the earth this climate overlooks,
Before we will lay by our juft-born arms,

We'll put thee down 'gainst whom these arms we bear,
Or add a royal number to the dead;

Gracing the fcroul that tells of this war's lofs,
With flaughter coupled to the name of Kings.
Bast. Ha! Majefty; how high thy glory towers,
When the rich blood of Kings is fet on fire!

Oh, now doth Death line his dead chaps with steel;
The fwords of foldiers are his teeth, his phangs;
And now he feafts, mouthing the flesh of men
In undetermin'd diff'rences of Kings.
Why ftand these royal fronts amazed thus?
Cry havock, Kings; back to the ftained field,
You equal Potents, fiery-kindled fpirits!
Then let confufion of one part confirm

The other's peace; 'till then blows, blood, and death!
K. John. Whofe party do the townfmen yet admit?
K. Philip. Speak, citizens, for England, who's your King?
Cit. The King of England, when we know the King.
K. Philip. Know him in us, that here hold up his right.
K. John. In us, that are our own great deputy,
And bear poffeffion of our perfon here,
Lord of our prefence, Angiers, and of you.

Cit. A greater pow'r than 'ye denies all this;
And 'till it be undoubted, we do lock

Our former fcruple in our ftrong-barr'd gates. [Kings, Baft. By heav'n, these scroyles of Angiers flout you,

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And ftand fecurely on their battlements
As in a theatre, whence they gape and point
At your industrious fcenes and acts of death.
You royal prefences, be rul'd by me;
Do like the Mutines of Jerufalem,

Be friends a while, and both conjointly bend
Your sharpeft, deeds of malice on this town.
By east and weft let France and England mount
Their batt'ring cannon charged to the mouths,
'Till their foul-fearing clamours have braul'd down
The flinty ribs of this contemptuous city.
I'd play inceffantly upon thefe jades;
Even 'till unfenced defolation

Leave them as naked as the vulgar air.
That done, diffever your united strengths,
And part your mingled colours once again,
Turn face to face, and bloody point to point,
Then in a moment fortune fhall cull forth
Out of one fide her happy minion,
To whom in favour fhe fhall give the day,
And kiss him with a glorious victory.

How like you this wild counfel, mighty ftates?

K. John. Now by the sky that hangs above our heads, I like it well. France, fhall we knit our pow'rs, And lay this Angiers even with the ground, Then after, fight who fhall be King of it?

Baft. And if thou haft the mettle of a King,
Being wrong'd as we are by this peevish town,
Turn thou the mouth of thy artillery,

As we will ours, against these fawcy walls;
And when that we have dash'd them to the ground,
Why then defie each other, and pell-mell

Make work upon our felves for heav'n or hell.

K. Philip. Let it be fo; fay, where will you affault? K. John. We from the weft will fend deftruction Into this city's bofom.

Auft. I from the north.

K. Philip. Our thunder from the fouth



Shall rain their drift of bullets on this town.

Cit. Hear us, great Kings; vouchfafe a while to stay, And I fhall fhew you peace, and fair-fac'd league; Win you this city without ftroak or wound; Rescue those breathing lives to die in beds, That here come facrifices for the field: Persevere 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 Blanch,
Is near to England; look
upon the
Of Lewis the Dauphin, and that lovely maid.
If lufty love fhould go in queft of beauty,
Where fhould 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 fought a match of birth,
Whose veins bound richer blood than Lady Blanch?
Such as fhe is, in beauty, virtue, birth,

Is the young Dauphin every way compleat:
3 'If not compleat, oh! fay he is not fhe;
And fhe again wants nothing, to name want,
If want it be not, that fhe is not he.
He is the half part of a bleffed man,
Left to be finished by fuch 4'a fhe;`
And fhe a fair divided excellence,
Whofe fulness of perfection lyes in him.
O! two fuch filver currents, when they join,
Do glorifie the banks that bound them in:

And two fuch fhores to two fuch streams made one,
Two fuch controlling bounds fhall you be, Kings,
To these two Princes, if you marry them.
This union fhall do more than battery can,
To our faft-clofed gates: for at this match,
With swifter fpleen than powder can enforce,
(a)- bullets on this town.

Baft. O prudent difcipline! from North to South;
Auftria and France shoot in each other's mouth.

I'll ftir them to it; come away, away.

Cit. Hear us, great Kings, &c.

3 If not compleat of,- 4 as the; ... old èdit. Thirl, emend.


The mouth of paffage fhall we fling wide ope,
And give you entrance; but without this match
The fea enraged is not half fo deaf,

Lions fo confident, mountains and rocks

So free from motion, no not death himself
In mortal fury half fo peremptory,
As we to keep this city.

Baft. Here's a stay,

That shakes the rotten carcafs of old death
Out of his rags. Here's a large mouth indeed,
That fpits forth death, and mountains, rocks and feas,
Talks as familiarly of roaring Lions,

As maids of thirteen do of puppy-dogs.
What cannoneer begot this lufty blood?

He speaks plain cannon-fire, and fmoak and bounce,
He gives the baftinado with his tongue:
Our ears are cudgel'd; not a word of his
But buffets better than a fift of France;
Zounds, I was never fo bethumpt with words,
Since I firft call'd my brother's father dad.

Eli. Son, lift to this conjunction, make this match,
Give with our neice a dowry large enough;
For by this knot thou fhalt fo furely tie
Thy now unfur'd affurance to the crown,
That yon green boy fhall have no fun to ripe
The bloom that promifeth a mighty fruit.
I fee a yielding in the looks of France:

Mark how they whisper, urge them while their fouls
Are capable of this ambition,

Left zeal, now melted, by the windy breath

Of foft petitions pity and remorfe

Cool and congeal again to what it was.

Cit. Why answer not the double Majefties

This friendly treaty of our threaten'd town?


K. Philip. Speak England firft, that hath been forward

To fpeak unto this city: what fay you?

K. John. If that the Dauphin there, thy Princely fon, Can in this book of beauty read I love; I 2


Her dowry shall weigh equal with a Queen.
For 'Anjou, and fair Touraine, Maine, Poitiers,
And all that we upon this fide the sea,
(Except this city now by us befieg'd)
Find liable to our crown and dignity,
Shall gild her bridal bed, and make her rich
In titles, honours, and promotions;
As fhe in beauty, education, blood,
Holds hands with any Princefs of the world.


K. Philip. What fay'ft thou, boy? look in the Lady's Lewis. I do, my Lord, and in her eye I find A wonder, or a wond'rous miracle,a

I do protest I never lov'd my self

'Till now infixed I 'behold my self, Drawn in the flatt'ring table of her eye.

[Whispering with Blanch. Baft. Drawn in the flatt'ring table of her eye! Hang'd in the frowning wrinkle of her brow! And quarter'd in her heart! he doth efpie Himself love's traitor: this is pity now,

That hang'd, and drawn, and quarter'd, there fhould be In fuch a love, fo vile a lout as he.

Blanch. My uncle's will in this refpect is mine.
If he fee ought in you that makes him like,

That any thing, he fees, which moves his liking,
I can with eafe tranflate it to my will:

Or if you will, to fpeak more properly,

I will enforce it easily to my love,
Further I will not flatter you, my Lord,
That all I fee in you is worthy love,
Than this; that nothing do I fee in you,

(Though churlish thoughts themselves fhould be your judge)



The fhadow of my felf form'd in her eye,
Which being but the fhadow of your fon,
Becomes a fun, and makes your fon a fhadow:
I do proteft

5 Angiers,... old edit. Theob, emend.
6 beheld


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