Bast. By heaven, these scroyles* of Angiers flout you, kings,

*Scabby fellows. 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 ruled by me: Do like the mutinest of Jerusalem, Be friends awhile and both conjointly bend Your sharpest deeds of malice on this town: 380 By east and west let France and England mount

†Mutineers.

Their battering cannon charged to the mouths,
Till their soul-fearing clamours have brawl'd down
The flinty ribs of this contemptuous city:
I'ld play incessantly upon these jades,
Even till unfenced desolation
Soul-terrifying.
Leave them as naked as the vulgar? air. ¿Common.
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?
Smacks it not something of the policy?

390

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?

400

Bast. An if thou hast 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 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?

K. John. We from the west will send destruction

Into this city's bosom.

410

Aust. I from the north.

K. Phi. Our thunder from the south Shall rain their drift of bullets on this town.

Bast. 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!

First Cit. Hear us, great kings: vouchsafe awhile to stay,

And I shall show you peace and fair-faced league;
Win you this city without stroke or wound;

Rescue those breathing lives to die in beds,
That here come sacrifices for the field:
Persever* not, but hear me, mighty kings.

420

*Persevere.

K. John. Speak on with favour; we are bent to
hear.
First Cit. That daughter there of Spain, the
Lady Blanch,

Is niece 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 as 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;

430

440

And two such shores to two such streams made

one,

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; 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,
The sea enraged is not half so deaf,

*Haste.

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.

Bast.

Here's a stay*

451

*Check.

That shakes the rotten carcass 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?

460

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 unsured assurance to the crown,
That yon green boy shall have no sun to ripe
The bloom that promiseth a mighty fruit.
I see a yielding in the looks of France;

470

Mark, how they whisper: urge them while their

souls

Are capable of this ambition,

Lest zeal, now melted by the windy breath

Of soft petitions, pity and remorse,

Cool and congeal again to what it was.

First Cit. Why answer not the double majesties

This friendly treaty of our threaten'd town?

480

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, Poitiers,
And all that we upon this side the sea,
Except this city now by us besieged,
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.

490

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: 500
I do protest I never loved myself

Till now infixed I beheld myself

Drawn in the flattering table of her eye.

[Whispers with Blanch. Bast. 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.

Blanch. My uncle's will in this respect is mine:

510

If he see aught in you that makes him like,
That any thing 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?
say you, my niece?

Blanch.

520 What

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. Then do I give Volquessen, Touraine, Maine,

Poitiers and Anjou, these five provinces,
With her to thee; and this addition more,

Full thirty thousand marks of English coin. 530
Philip of France, if thou be pleased withal,
Command thy son and daughter to join hands.
K. Phi. It likes us well; young princes,
close your hands.

Aust. And your lips too; for I am well assured That I did so when I was first assured.* *Affianced. K. Phi. Now, citizens of Angiers, ope your gates,

540

Let in that amity which you have made;
For at Saint Mary's chapel presently
The rites of marriage shall be solemnized.
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 high-

ness' tent.

*Sorrowful.

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 way,
To our own vantage.*

We will heal up all;

*Advantage.

550

K. John. 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