Page images
PDF
EPUB

Like a kind hoft, the Dauphin and his powers.
Your nobles will not hear you, but are gone
To offer service to your enemy;
And wild amazement hurries up and down
The little number of your doubtful friends.

K. John. Would not my Lords return to me again,
After they heard young Arthur was alive?
Faulc. They found him dead, and cast into the

streets, An empty cafcet, where the jewel, life, By forne dama'd hand was robb’d and ta’en away.

K. john. That villain Hubert told me he did live,

Faulc. So on my soul he did, for aught he knew, But wherefore do you droop? why look you fad ? Be

great in act, as you have been in thought: Let not the world fee fear and lad distrust Govern the motion of a kingly eye : Be stirring as the time ; be fire with fire ; Threaten the threat'ner, and ouiface the brow Of bragging horror : so shall inferior eyes, That borrow their behaviours from the great, Grow great by your example, and put on The dauntless spirit of resolution. Away, and glister like the god of war, When he intendeth to become the field; Shew boldness and aspiring confidence. What, shall they seek the lion in his den, And fright him there? and make him tremble there? Oh, let it not be said ! Forage, and run To meet displeasure farther from the doors ; And grapple with him ere he come so nigh.

K. John. The Legate of the Pope hath been with me,
And I have made a happy peace with him ;
And he hath promis’d to dismiss the powers
Led by the Dauphin.

Faulc. Oh inglorious league !
Shall we, upon the footing of our land,
Send fair-play-orders, and make compromise,
Insinuation, parley, and base truce,
To arms invasive? shall a beardless boy,
A cocker'd, filken wanton brave our fields,
And fleth his fpirit in a warlike soil,

Mocking the air with colours idly spread,
And find no check? Let us, my Liege, to arms:
Perchance the Cardinal can't make your peace;
Or if he do, let it at least be said,
They saw we had a purpose of defence.

K. John. Have thou the ord’ring of this prefent time.

Faulc. Away then, with good courage; yet I know Our party may well meet a pròuder foe. [Exeunt.

SCENE II. Changes to the Dauphin's camp. Enter, in arms, Lewis, Salisbury, Melun, Pembroke,

Bigot, and Soldiers.
Lewis. My Lord Melun, let this be copied out,
And keep it safe for our remembrance :
Return the president to these Lords again,
That having our fair order written down,
Both they and we, perusing o'er these notes,
May know wherefore we took the facrament,
And keep our faiths firm and inviolable.

Sal. Upon our fides it never shall be broken.
And, Noble Dauphin, albeit we swear
A voluntary zeal and unurg'd faith
To your proceedings; yet believe me, Prince,
I am not glad that such a sore of time
Should seek a plaister by contemn'd revolt;
And heal th' invetrate canker of one wound,
By making many. Oh, it grieves my soul,
That I must draw this metal from

my

fide
To be a widow-maker : oh, and there,
Where honourable rescue and defence
Cries out upon the name of Salisbury.
But such is the infection of the time,
That, for the health and physic of our right,
We cannot deal but with the very hand
Of stern injustice, and confused wrong.
And is 't not pity, oh, my grieved friends!
That we the fons and children of this isle,
Were born to see so fad an hour as this,
Wherein we step after a stranger-march
Upon her gentle bosom, and fill up
Her enemies ranks ? (I must withdraw and weep

Upon the spot of this enforced caufe);
To grace

the
gentry

of a land remote,
And follow unacquainted colours here?
What, here ? O nation, that thou could'st remove !
That Neptune's arms, who clippeth thee about,
Would bear thee from the knowledge of thyself,
And grapple thee unto a Pagan shore !
Where these two Christian armies might combine
The blood of malice in a vein of league,
And not to spend it fo unneighbourly.

Lewis. A noble temper doit thou shew in this; And great affection, wrestling in thy bosom, Doth make an earthquake of nobility. Oh, what a noble combat haft thou fought, Between compulsion, and a brave refpe&t ! Let me wipe off this honourable dew, That filverly doth progress on thy cheeks.

My heart hath melted at a lady's tears, “ Being an ordinary inundation : 66 But this effufion of such manly drops, ". This show'r blown up by tempest of the soul, “ Startles mine eyes, and makes me more amaz" • Than had I seen the vaulty top of heav'n

Figur'd quite o'er with burning meteors." Lift up thy brow, renowned Salisbury, And with a great heart heave away this storm. “ Commend these waters to those baby-eyes, “ That never saw the giant world

enrag'd; “ Nor met with fortune, other than at foaits, “ Full warm of blood, of mirth, of goflipping." Come, come; for thou shalt thrust thy hand as deep loto the purse of rich prosperity, As Lewis himself; fo, Nobles, fhall you all, That knit your finews to the strength of mine.

SCE N E HI. Enter Pandulph,
And even there methinks an angel fpeeds ;
Look where the holy Legate comes apace,
To give us warrant from the hand of heav'ng
And on our actions set the name of right
With holy breath.

Pand. Hail, Noble Prince of France !

99

H

The next is this. King John hath reconcil'd
Himself to Rome; his fpirit is come in,
That so stood out against the holy church,
The great metropolis and fee of Rome.
Therefore thy threat'ning colours now wind up,
And tame the favage fpirtt of wild War;
That, like a lion foster'd up at hand,
It

inay lie gently at the foot of Peace ; And be no further harmful than in thew,

Lewis. Your Grace shall pardon me, I will not back.
I am too high-born to be propertied,
To be a secondary at controul ;
Or useful ferving-man, and inftrument,
To any sovereign state throughout the world.
Your breath first kindled the dead coal of war,
Between this chastis’d kingdom and myself,
And brought in matter that should feed this fire.
And now 'tis far too huge to be blown out,
With that same weak wind which inkindled it.
You taught me how to know the face of right,
Acquainted me with intrest to this land;
Yea, thrust this enterprise into my

heart.
And come you now to tell me John hath made
His peace with Rome? what is that peace to me?
I, by the honour of my marriage-bed,
After young Arthur, claim this land for mine.
And now it is half-conquer'd, muft I back,
Because that John hath made his peace with Rome?
Am I Rome's slave? what penny hath Rone borne,
What rien provided, what-munition fent,
To underprop this action ? Is 't not I
That undergo this charge? who else but I,
And such as to niy claim are liable,
Sweat in this business, and maintain this war?
Have I not heard these islanders shout out,
Vive le Roy!. as I have bank'd their towns ?
Have I not here the best cards for the game,
To win this easy match, płay'd for a crown
And shall I now give o'er the yielded fet?
No, on my soul, it never shall be faid.

Pard. You look but on the outside of this work.
lausis. Quifide or infide, I will not return,

Till my attempt so much be glorified,
As to my ample hope was promised,
Before I drew this gailant head of war,
And cull'd these fiery spirits from the world,
To outlook conquest, and to win renown
Evin in the jaws of danger, and of death.

[Trumpet founds. What lufty trumpet thus doth summon us?

SCENE IV. Enter Faulconbridge.
Faulc. According to the fair play of the world,
Let me have audience. I-am sent to speak,
My holy Lord of Milain, from the King.
I come to learn how you have dealt for him ;
And, as you answer, I do know the scope
And warrant limited unto my tongue.

Pand. The Dauphin is too wilful-opposite,
And will not temporize with my intreaties.
He fatly says he'll not lay down his arms.

Faulc. By all the blood that ever fury breath’d, The youth says well. Now hear our English King; For thus his Royalty doth speak in me. He is prepar’d; and reason too he should. This apis and unmannerly approach, This harness'd malk, and unadvised revel, This unhaird fauciness and boyish troops, The King doth simile at; and is well prepar’d To whip this dwarfish war, these pigmy-arms, From out the circle of his territories. That hand which had the strength, ev’n at your door, To cudgel you, and make you take the hatch; To dive, like buckets, in concealed wells; To crouch in litter of your stable-planks; To lie, like pawns, lock'd up in chests and trunks; To herd with swine; to seek sweet safety out, In vaults and prisons; and to thrill, and shake, Ev’n at the crying of our nation's crow, Thinking his voice an armed Englishman : Shall that victorious hand be feebled here, That in your chambers gave you chastisement ? No; know, the gallant monarch is in arms; And, like an eagle o'er his aiery, tow'rs,

« PreviousContinue »