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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.-Ereunt all but Austri.A. and FAULcon BRIDGE. Faul. Saint George, that swing'd the dragon, and e'er since Sits on his horseback, at mine hostess' door, Teach us some fonce!—Sirrah, were I at home, At 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. Faul. O, tremble; for you hear the lion roar. [Ea.eunt AUSTRIA and FAULcon BRIDGE.
Enter FRENch HERALD with a TRUMPET, who sounds a Parley.
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 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 bells; 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.
A Charge. Enter the Two KINGs, with their Powers, as before. K. John. France, hast thou yet more blood to cast away Say, shall the current of our right run on K. Phil. England, thou hast not sav'd one drop of blood, 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. 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. 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. Paul. 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 - Blanch, Is near to England: Look upon the years Of Lewis the Dauphin, and that lovely maid. O, two such silver currents, when they join, Do glorify the banks that bound them in: Two such controlling bounds shall you be, Kings, To these two Princes, if you marry them. This union shall do more than battery can, To our fast-closed gates: Without this match, The sea enraged is not half so deaf, Lions more confident, mountains and rocks More free from motion; no, not death himself In mortal fury half so peremptory, As we to keep this city. Faul. Here's a stay. 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, and seas; Talks as familiarly of roaring lions,
As maids of thirteen do of puppy-dogs! What cannoneer begot this lusty blood Zounds! I was never so bethump'd with words Since I first call'd my brother's father, dad. Cit. Why answer not the double majesties This friendly treaty of our threaten’d town? K. Phil. 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, Drawn in the flattering table of her eye. [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 ou, 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. R. Phil. It likes us well;--Young Princes, close your hands. Now, Citizens of Angiers, ope your gates, Let in that amity which you have made.— [Ereunt CITIZENs. Is not the Lady Constance in this troop D