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Scene 1.–Northampton. A Room in the Palace.
Enter the Bastard.
Bast. All Kent hath yielded; nothing there Enter King John, PANDULPH with the crown,
holds out and Attendants.
But Dover castle: London bath received, K.John. Thus have I yielded up into your hand Like a kind host, the Dauphin and his powers : The circle of my glory.
Your nobles will not hear you, but are gone Pand. Take again [Giving Join the crown. To offer service to your enemy: From this my liand, as holding of the pope, And wild amazement hurries up and down Your sovereign greatness and authority.
The little number of your doubtful friends. K. John. Now keep your holy word: go meet K. John. Would not my lords return to me again the French;
After they heard young Arthur was alive? And from his holiness use all your power
Bast. They found him dead, and cast into the To stop their marches 'fore we are inflamed Our discontented counties do revolt;
An empty casket, where the jewel of life Our people quarrel with obedience ;
By soine damned hand was robbed and ta'en Swearing allegiance and the love of soul
away. To stranger blood, to foreign royalty.
K. John. That villain Hubert told me he did This inundation of mistempered humour
live. Rests by you only to be qualified.
Bast. So, on my soul, he did, for aught he knew. Then pause not; for the present time 's so sick | But wherefore do you droop; why look you sad? That present medicine must be ministered, Be great in act as you have been in thought: Or overthrow incurable ensues.
Let not the world see fear and sad distrust Pand. It was my breath that blew this tempest Govern the motion of a kingly eye.
Be stirring as the time; be fire with fire; Upon your stubborn usage of the pope :
Threaten the threatener, and outface the brow But, since you are a gentle convertite,
Of bragging horror: so shall inferior eyes, My tongue shall hush again this storm of war, That borrow their behaviours from the great, And make fair weather in your blustering land. Grow great by your example, and put on On this Ascension-day, remember well,
The dauntless spirit of resolution. Upon your oath of service to the pope,
Away, and glister like the god of war, Go I to make the French lay down their arms. I When he intendeth to become the field :
[Exit Shew boldness and aspiring confidence. K. John. Is this Ascension-day? Did not the What, shall they seek the lion in his den, prophet
And fright him there, and make him tremble Say that, before Ascension-day at noon,
there? My crown I should give off? Even so I have: | o let it not be said !-Forage and run I did suppose it should be on constraint;
To meet displeasure further from the doors, But, heaven be thanked, it is but voluntary. | And grapple with him ere he comes so nigh.
K. John. The legate of the pope hath been i Upon the spot of this enforcéd cause),
To grace the gentry of a land remote,
That Neptune's arms, who clippeth thee about, Shall we, upon the footing of our land,
Would bear thee from the knowledge of thyself,
Where these two Christian armies might combine
Lew. A noble temper dost thou shew in this;
Between compulsion and a brave respect!
Let me wipe off this honourable dew
My heart hath melted at a lady's tears,
But this effusion of such manly drops,
Startles mine eyes, and makes me more amazed
Than had I seen the vaulty top of heaven
Lift up thy brow, renowned Salisbury,
Commend these waters to those baby eyes
Nor met with fortune other than at feasts,
That knit your sinews to the strength of mine.
Enter Pandulph, attended.
And even there, methinks, an angel spake :-
To give us warrant froin the hand of heaven,
Pand. Hail, noble prince of France !
Himself to Rome: his spirit is come in,
That so stood out against the holy church,
The great metropolis and see of Rome.
Therefore thy threatening colours now wind up,
That, like a lion fostered up at hand,
It may lie gently at the foot of peace,
And be no further harmful than in show.
Lew. Your grace shall pardon me; I will not
I am too high-born to be propertied,
To be a secondary at control,
To any sovereign state throughout the world. This unhaired sauciness and boyish troops,
The King doth smile at; and is well prepared
door, You taught me how to know the face of right, To cudgel you and make you take the hatch; Acquainted me with interest to this land,
To dive, like buckets, in concealed wells; Yea, thrust this enterprize into my heart: To crouch in litter of your stable planks; And come you now to tell me John hath made To lie, like pawns, locked up in chests and His peace with Rome? What is that peace to me?
trunks; 1, by the honour of my marriage-bed,
To hug with swine; to seek sweet safety out After young Arthur, claim this land for mine: In vaults and prisons; and to thrill and shake And, now it is half-conquered, must I back Even at the crying of your nation's crow, Because that John hath made his peace with Thinking his voice an armed Englishman :Rome?
Shall that victorious hand be feebled here, Am I Rome's slave? What penny hath Rome That in your chambers gave you chastisement? borne,
No:-know the gallant monarch is in arms; What men provided, what munition sent,
And like an eagle o'er his aiery towers, To underprop this action? Is 't not I
To souse annoyance that comes near his nest.-That undergo this charge? Who else but I, And you degenerate, you ingrate revolts, And such as to my claim are liable,
You bloody Neroes, ripping up the womb Sweat in this business and maintain this war? | Of your dear mother England, blush for shame . Have I not heard these islanders shout out For your own ladies, and pale-visaged maids, “Vive le roy!" as I have banked their towns? Like Amazons, come tripping after drums: Have I not here the best cards for the game, Their thimbles into arméd gauntlets change, To win this easy match, played for a crown: Their neelds to lances, and their gentle hearts And shall I now give o'er the yielded set ?
To fierce and bloody inclination. No, on my soul, it never shall be said.
Lew. There end thy brave, and turn thy face Pand. You look but on the outside of this work.
in peace : Lew. Outside or inside, I will not return We grant thou canst outscold us. Fare thee well: Till my attempt so much be glorified
We bold our time too precious to be spent As to my ample hope was promised
With such a brabbler.
Pand. Give me leave to speak.
Lew. We will attend to neither.-
[Trumpet sounds. Plead for our interest and our being here. What lusty trumpet thus doth summon us? Bast. Indeed your drums, being beaten, will
cry out; Enter the Bastard, attended.
And so shall you, being beaten. Do but start Bast. According to the fair play of the world, An echo with the clamour of thy drum, Let me have audience: I am sent to speak.-- And even at hand a drum is ready braced My holy lord of Milan, from the King
That shall reverberate all as loud as thine: I come, to learn how you have dealt for him: Sound but another, and another shall And as you answer I do know the scope
As loud as thine rattle the welkin's ear, And warrant limited unto my tongue.
And mock the deep-mouthed thunder: for at Pan. The Dauphin is too wilful-opposite,
hand And will not temporise with my entreaties: (Not trusting to this halting legate here, He flatly says he 'll not lay down his arms. Whom he hath used rather for sport than need)
Bast. By all the blood that ever fury breathed, Is warlike John; and in his forehead sits The youth says well!--Now hear our English A bare-ribbed death, whose office is this day king:
To feast upon whole thousands of the French. For thus his royalty doth speak in me.
Lew. Strike up our drums, to find this danger He is prepared; and reason too he should.
out. This apish and unmannerly approach,
Bast. And thou shalt find it, Dauphin, do not This harnessed masque and unadviséd revel,
SCENE III.—The same. A Field of Battle.
Even on that altar where we swore to you
Dear amity and everlasting love. Alarams. Enter KING John and HUBERT. Sal. May this be possible ? may this be truc? K. John. How goes the day with us? O, tell
Mel. Have I not hideous death within my me, Hubert.
view; Hub. Badly, I fear. How fares your majesty?
Retaining but a quantity of life, K. John. This fever that hath troubled me so
Which bleeds away, even as a form of wax
Resolveth from his figure 'gainst the fire ? long
What in the world should make me now deceive, Lies heavy on me: O my heart is sick!
Since I must lose the use of all deceit?
Why should I then be false, since it is true Mess. My lord, your valiant kinsman, Fal.
That I must die here, and live hence by truth?
I say again, if Lewis do win the day, conbridge, Desires your majesty to leave the field,
He is forsworn if e'er those eyes of yours And send him word by me which way you go.
Behold another day break in the east : K. John. Tell him, toward Swinstead, to the
But even this night,—whose black contagious
breath abbey there. Mess. Be of good comfort; for the great supply
Already sinokes about the burning crest That was expected by the Dauphin here,
Of the old, feeble, and day-wearied sun,Are wrecked three nights ago on Goodwin's sands.
Even this ill night, your breathing shall expire This news was brought to Richard but even now.
Paying the fine of rated treachery, The French fight coldly, and retire themselves. Even with a treacherous fine of all your lives, K. John. Ah me! this tyrant fever burns me up,
If Lewis by your assistance win the day. And will not let me welcome this good news.--
Commend me to one Hubert, with your King: Set on toward Swinstead: to my litter straight;
The love of him,- and this respect besides, Weakness possesseth me, and I am faint.
For that my grandsire was an Englishman, [Exeunt.
Awakes my conscience to confess all this.
Where I may think the remnant of my thoughts SCENE IV. - The same. Another part of the Field. In peace, and part this body and my soul
With contemplation and devout desires. Enter SALISBURY, PEMBROKE, Bigot, and others. Sal. we do believe thee :--and beshrew my soul Sal. I did not think the King so stored with But I do love the favour and the form friends.
Of this most fair occasion, by the which Pem. Up once again; put spirit in the French: We will untread the steps of damnéd flight; If they miscarry, we miscarry too.
And, like a bated and retiréd food, Sal. That misbegotten devil, Falconbridge, Leaving our rankness and irregular course, In spite of spite, alone upholds the day.
Stoop low within those bounds we have o'erlooked, Pem. They say King John, sore sick, hath left And calmly run on in obedience, the field.
Even to our ocean, to our great King John.-
My arm shall give thee help to bear thee hence, Enter Melun wounded, and led by Soldiers.
For I do see the cruel pangs of death Mel. Lead me to the revolts of England here. || Right in thine eye.-Away, my friends !-new Sal. When we were happy we had other names.
flight: Pem. It is the Count Melun.
And happy newness, that intends old right! Sal. Wounded to death.
[Exeunt, leading off MELUN. Mel. Fly, noble English; you are bought and
sold: Unthread the rude eye of rebellion, And welcome home again discarded faith,
Scene V.—The same. The French Camp. Seek out King John, and fall before his feet: Por, if the French be lords of this loud day,
Enter Lewis and his Train. He means to recompense the pains you take, By cutting off your heads. Thus hath he sworn, Lew. The sun of heaven, methought, was And I with him, and many more with me,
loath to set; Upon the altar at Saint Edmund's-bury: But stayed, and made the western welkin blush, When the English measured backward their own i Hub. Why, here walk I, in the black brow of night. ground,
To find you out. In faint retire. O, bravely came we off,
Bast. Brief, then; and what s the news? When with a volley of our needless shot,
Hub. O my sweet sir, news fitting to the night: After such bloody toil, we bid good night; Black, fearful, comfortless, and horrible. And wound our tattered colours clearly up, Bast. Shew me the very wound of this ill news: Last in the field, and almost lords of it!
I am no woman; I 'll not swoon at it.
Hub. The King, I fear, is poisoned by a monk. Enter a Messenger.
I left him almost speechless, and broke out Mess. Where is my prince, the Dauphin ? To acquaint you with this evil; that you might Lew. Here.—What news?
The better arm you to the sudden time Mess. The Count Melun is slain : the English | Than if you had at leisure known of this. lords,
Bast. How did he take it? who did taste to him? By his persuasion, are again fall’n off:
Hub. A monk, I tell you: a resolved villain, And your supply, which you have wished so long, | Whose bowels suddenly burst out. The King Are cast away and sunk on Goodwin sands. Yet speaks, and peradventure may recover. Lew. Ah, foul shrewd news!—Beshrew thy Bast. Who didst thou leave to tend his majesty ? very heart!
Hub. Why, know you not? The lords are all I did not think to be so sad to-night
come back, As this hath made me.- Who was he that said And brought Prince Henry in their company: King John did fly an hour or two before At whose request the King hath pardoned them, The stumbling night did part our weary powers? And they are all about his majesty.
Mess. Whoever spoke it, it is true, my lord. Bast. Withhold thine indignation, mighty Lew. Well: keep good quarter and good care
And tempt us not to bear above our power! The day shall not be up so soon as I,
I'll tell thee, Hubert, half my power this night, To try the fair adventure of to-morrow. [Exeunt. | Passing these flats, are taken by the tide;
These Lincoln washes have devoured them:
Away, before : conduct me to the King:
of Swinstead Abbey.
Enter the Bastard and HUBERT, meeling.
or I shoot.
Bast. Hubert, I think.
Hub. Thou hast a perfect thought.
Bast. Who thou wilt: an if thou please,
Scene VII.—The Orchard of Swinstead Abbey.
P. Hen. It is too late: the life of all his blood
[Exit Bigot. Pem. He is more patient Than when you left him: even now he sung.
P. Hen. O vanity of sickness! fierce extremes, In their continuance, will not feel themselves.