The next is this. King John hath reconcil'd
Himfelf to Rome; his fpirit is come in,
That fo ftood out against the holy church,

The great metropolis and fee of Rome.

Therefore thy threat'ning colours now wind up,
And tame the favage fpirit of wild War;
That, like a lion fofter'd up at hand,

It may lie gently at the foot of Peace;
And be no further harmful than in fhew,

Lewis. Your Grace fhall pardon me, I will not back. I am too high-born to be propertied,

To be a fecondary at controul;

Or ufeful ferving-man, and inftrument,
To any fovereign ftate throughout the world.
Your breath firft kindled the dead coal of war,
Between this chaftis'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 fame weak wind which inkindled it.
You taught me how to know the face of right,
Acquainted me with int'reft to this land;
Yea, thruft this enterprife 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 flave? what penny hath Rome borne,
What men provided, what munition fent,

To underprop this action? Is 't not I

That undergo this charge? who elfe but I,
And fuch as to my claim are liable,

Sweat in this bufinefs, and maintain this war?
Have I not heard thefe iflanders shout out,
Vive le Roy! as I have bank'd their towns ?
Have I not here the beft_cards for the game,
To win this eafy match, play'd for a crown?
And fhall I now give o'er the yielded fet?
No, on my foul, it never fhall be faid.

Pand. You look but on the outfide of this work. lenir. Qutfide or infide, I will not return,

Till my attempt fo much be glorified,
As to my ample hope was promised,
Before I drew this gallant head of war,
And cull'd thefe fiery fpirits from the world,
To outlook conqueft, and to win renown
Ev'n in the jaws of danger, and of death.

[Trumpet founds.

What lufty trumpet thus doth fummon us?

SCENE IV. Enter Faulconbridge.
Faulc. According to the fair play of the world,
Let me have audience. I-am fent to fpeak,
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-oppofite,
And will not temporize with my intreaties.
He flatly fays he'll not lay down his arms.

Faulc. By all the blood that ever fury breath'd, The youth fays well. Now hear our English King; For thus his Royalty doth speak in me. He is prepar'd; and reafon too he should. This apifh and unmannerly approach, This harness'd mask, and unadvised revel, This unhaird faucinefs and boyish troops, The King doth finile at; and is well prepar'd To whip this dwarfish war, thefe pigmy-arms, From out the circle of his territories.

That hand which had the ftrength, 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 ftable-planks;

To lie, like pawns, lock'd up in chefts and trunks;
To herd with fwine; to feek fweet fafety out,
In vaults and prifons; 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,

To foufe annoyance that comes near his neft.
And you degen'rate, you ingrate revolts,
You bloody Nero's, ripping up the womb
Of your dear mother England, blufh for fhame.
For your own ladies, and pale-vifag'd maids,
Like Amazons, come tripping after drums;
Their thimbles into armed gantlets change,
Their needles to lances, and their gentle hearts
To fierce and bloody inclination.

Lewis. There end thy brave, and turn thy face in peace;

We grant thou canft outfcold us; fare thee well.
We hold our time too precious to be spent

With fuch a babler.

Pand. Give me leave to fpeak.

Faule. No, I will speak.

Lewis. We will attend to neither.

Strike up the drums, and let the tongue of war
Plead for our int'reft, and our being here.

Faulc. Indeed your drums being beaten, will cry out; And fo fhall you, being beaten. Do but start

An echo with the clamour of thy drum,
And even at hand a drum is ready brac'd,
That fhall reverb'rate all as loud as thine.
Sound but another, and another fhall,
As loud as thine, rattle the welkin's ear,

And mock the deep-mouth'd thunder. For at hand
(Not trufting to this halting Legate here,
Whom he hath us'd rather for fport than need)
Is warlike John; and in his forehead fits
A bare-ribb'd death; whofe office is this day
To feaft upon whole thousands of the French.

Lewis. Strike up our drums, to find this danger out. Faulc. And thou shalt find it, Dauphin, do not [Exeunt.

doubt.

SCENE V. Changes to a

Changes to a field of battle.

Alarms. Enter King John and Hubert.

K. John. How goes the day with us? oh, tell me,

Hubert.

Hub. Badly, I fear; how fares your Majesty ?

K. John. This fever that hath troubled me fo long, Lies heavy on me : oh, my heart is fick !

Enter a Meffenger.

Melf. My Lord, your valiant kinfman, Faulconbridge, Defires your Majesty to leave the field;

And fend him word by me which way you go.

K. John. Tell him, tow'rds Swinftead, to the abbey

there.

Mef. Be of good comfort; for the great fupply
That was expected by the Dauphin here,

Are wreck'd three nights ago on Goodwin fands.
This news was brought to Richard but ev'n now;
The French fight coldly, and retire themfelves.

ン

K. John. Ah me! this tyrant fever burns me up, And will not let me welcome this good news. Set on tow'rd Swinftead; to my litter ftrait; Weakness poffeffeth me, and I am faint.

SCENE VI.

[Exeunt.

Changes to the French camp.

Enter Salisbury, Pembroke, and Bigot.

Sal. I did not think the King fo ftor'd with friends. Pemb. Up once again; put fpirit in the French. If they mifcarry, we mifcarry too.

Sal. That mifbegotten devil, Faulconbridge,

In fpight of fpight, alone upholds the day.

Pemb. They fay King John, fore fick, hath left the field.

Enter Melun, wounded.

Melun. Lead me to the revolts of England here. Sal. When we were happy, we had other names. Pemb. It is the Count Melun.

Sal. Wounded to death.

Melun. Fly, noble English, you are bought and fold; Unthread the rude eye of rebellion,

And welcome home again difcarded faith.
Seek out King John, and fall before his feet:
For if the French be lords of this loud day,
He means to recompenfe the pains you take,
By cutting off your heads; thus hath he fworn,

I with him, and many more with me,

Upon the altar at St Edmondfoury;
Ev'n on that altar, where we fwore to you
Dear amity and everlasting love.

Sal. May this be poffible! may this be true!

Melun. Have I not hideous death within my view? Retaining but a quantity of life,

Which bleeds away, ev'n as a form of wax
Refulveth from its figure 'gainft the fire?

What in the world should make me now deceive,
Since I must lofe the ufe of all deceit ?
Why fhould I then be falfe, fince it is true,
That I muft die here, and live hence by truth?
I fay again, if Lewis do win the day,
He is forfworn, if e'er thefe eyes of yours
Behold another day break in the east.

But ev'n this night, whofe black contagious breath
Already fmokes about the burning creft

Of the old, feeble, and day-wearied fun,
Ev'n this ill night, your breathing fhall expire;
Paying the fine of rated treachery,

Ev'n with a treacherous fine of all your lives,
If Lewis by your affiftance win the day.
Commend me to one Hubert, with your King;
The love of him, and this respect besides,
(For that my grandfire was an Englishman),
Awakes my confcience to confefs all this.
In lieu whereof, I pray you bear me hence
From forth the noife and rumour of the field;
Where I may think the remnant of my thoughts
In peace; and part this body and my foul,
With contemplation and devout defires.

foul

Sal. We do believe thee; and befhrew my
But I do love the favour and the form
Of this most fair occafion, by the which
We will untread the fteps of damned flight;
And, like a bated and retired flood,
Leaving our ranknefs and irregular course,
Stoop low within thofe bounds we have o'erlook'd,
And calmly run on in obedience

Ev'n to our ocean, to our great King John.
My arm fhall give thee help to bear thee hence,