King John (Folio 1, 1623)
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The life and death of King Iohn.
1
Actus Primus, Scæna Prima.
¶
Enter King Iohn, Queene Eleanor, Pembroke, Essex, and Sa-
¶_lisbury, with the Chattylion of France.
¶_of France,
¶In my behauiour to the Maiesty,
¶The borrowed Maiesty of England heere.
¶Chat. Philip of France, in right and true behalfe
¶Arthur Plantaginet, laies most lawfull claime
15To this faire Iland,_and the Territories:
¶To Ireland, Poyctiers, Aniowe, Torayne, Maine,
¶And put the same into yong Arthurs hand,
20Thy Nephew, and right royall Soueraigne.
¶Chat. Then take my Kings defiance from my mouth,
¶Be thou as lightning in the eies of France;
30For ere thou canst report, I will be there:
¶The thunder of my Cannon shall be heard.
¶So hence:_be thou the trumpet of our wrath,
¶An honourable conduct let him haue,
35Pembroke looke too't: farewell Chattillion.
¶
Exit Chat. and Pem.
¶How that ambitious Constance would not cease
¶Till she had kindled France and all the world,
¶This might haue beene preuented,_and made whole
¶With very easie arguments of loue,
¶Which now the mannage of two kingdomes must
¶Which none but heauen, and you, and I, shall heare.
50
Enter a Sheriffe.
¶Come from the Country to be iudg'd by you
¶That ere I heard: shall I produce the men?
¶K._Iohn. Let them approach:
55Our Abbies and our Priories shall pay
¶This expeditious charge: what men are you?
¶
Enter Robert Faulconbridge,_and Philip.
¶A Souldier by the Honor-giuing-hand
¶Of Cordelion, Knighted in the field.
¶K._Iohn. What art thou?
¶You came not of one mother then it seemes.
¶That is well knowne,_and as I thinke one father:
¶But for the certaine knowledge of that truth,
70I put you o're to heauen, and to my mother;
¶Of that I doubt, as all mens children may.
¶And wound her honor with this diffidence.
75That is my brothers plea, and none of mine,
¶The which if he can proue, a pops me out,
¶At least from faire fiue hundred pound a yeere:
¶Heauen guard my mothers honor, and my Land.
80Doth he lay claime to thine inheritance?
¶But where I be as true begot or no,
¶That still I lay vpon my mothers head,
85But that I am as well begot my Liege
¶(Faire fall the bones that tooke the paines for me)
¶Compare our faces, and be Iudge your selfe
¶If old Sir Robert did beget vs both,
¶And were our father, and this sonne like him:
90O old sir Robert Father, on my knee
¶I giue heauen thankes I was not like to thee.
¶K._Iohn. Why what a mad-cap hath heauen lent vs here?
¶Elen. He hath a tricke of Cordelions face,
¶The accent of his tongue affecteth him:
¶In the large composition of this man?
¶K._Iohn. Mine eye hath well examined his parts,
¶What doth moue you to claime your brothers land.
¶With halfe that face would he haue all my land,
¶A halfe-fac'd groat, fiue hundred pound a yeere?
¶Rob. My gracious Liege, when that my father liu'd,
¶Your brother did imploy my father much.
¶Your tale must be how he employ'd my mother.
¶To Germany, there with the Emperor
¶To treat of high affaires touching that time:
110Th' aduantage of his absence tooke the King,
¶And in the meane time soiourn'd at my fathers;
¶Betweene my father,_and my mother lay,
¶Vpon his death-bed he by will bequeath'd
¶His lands to me, and tooke it on his death
¶That this my mothers sonne was none of his;
120And if he were, he came into the world
¶Full fourteene weekes before the course of time:
¶Then good my Liedge let me haue what is mine,
¶My fathers land, as was my fathers will.
125Your fathers wife did after wedlocke beare him:
¶Which fault lyes on the hazards of all husbands
¶That marry wiues: tell me,_how if my brother
130Had of your father claim'd this sonne for his,
¶This Calfe, bred from his Cow from all the world:
¶My brother might not claime him, nor your father
135Being none of his, refuse him: this concludes,
¶My mothers sonne did get your fathers heyre,
¶Your fathers heyre must haue your fathers land.
¶Rob. Shal then my fathers Will be of no force,
¶Then was his will to get me, as I think.
¶And like thy brother to enioy thy land:
¶Or the reputed sonne of Cordelion,
¶And I had his, sir Roberts his like him,
¶And if my legs were two such riding rods,
¶And to his shape were heyre to all this land,
¶Would I might neuer stirre from off this place,
¶I would giue it euery foot to haue this face:
¶Bequeath thy land to him,_and follow me?
¶I am a Souldier,_and now bound to France.
160Your face hath got fiue hundred pound a yeere,
¶Yet sell your face for fiue pence and 'tis deere:
¶Madam, Ile follow you vnto the death.
¶Eleanor. Nay, I would haue you go before me thither.
¶Bast. Our Country manners giue our betters way.
165K._Iohn. What is thy name?
¶K._Iohn. From henceforth beare his name
170Kneele thou downe Philip, but rise more great,
¶Arise Sir Richard, and Plantagenet.
¶My father gaue me honor, yours gaue land:
175When I was got,_Sir Robert was away.
¶I am thy grandame Richard, call me so.
¶Bast. Madam by chance, but not by truth, what tho;
¶Something about a little from the right,
180In at the window, or else ore the hatch:
¶And haue is haue, how euer men doe catch:
¶And I am I,_how ere I was begot.
¶For France, for France, for it is more then need.
¶Bast. Brother adieu, good fortune come to thee,
¶
Exeunt all but bastard._
¶Bast. A foot of Honor better then I was,
¶But many a many foot of Land the worse.
¶Well,_now can I make any Ioane a Lady,
195Good den Sir Richard,_Godamercy fellow,
¶And if his name be George, Ile call him Peter;
¶For new made honor doth forget mens names:
¶For your conuersion, now your traueller,
¶Why then I sucke my teeth, and catechize
¶My picked man of Countries: my deare sir,
¶Thus leaning on mine elbow I begin,
¶Sauing in Dialogue of Complement,
¶And talking of the Alpes and Appenines,
¶The Perennean and the riuer Poe,
¶For he is but a bastard to the time
220And not alone in habit and deuice,
¶Exterior forme, outward accoutrement;
¶But from the inward motion to deliuer
¶Which though I will not practice to deceiue,
225Yet to auoid deceit I meane to learne;
¶That will take paines to blow a horne before her?
230O me, 'tis my mother: how now good Lady,
¶
Enter Lady Faulconbridge and Iames Gurney.
¶That holds in chase mine honour vp and downe.
¶Colbrand the Gyant, that same mighty man,
¶Bast. Iames Gournie, wilt thou giue vs leaue a while?
¶Gour. Good leaue good Philip.
¶There's toyes abroad,_anon Ile tell thee more.
245
Exit Iames._
¶Madam, I was not old Sir Roberts sonne,
¶Sir Robert might haue eat his part in me
250Could get me sir Robert could not doe it;
¶We know his handy-worke, therefore good mother
¶To whom am I beholding for these limmes?
¶Sir Robert neuer holpe to make this legge.
¶What, I am dub'd, I haue it on my shoulder:
¶But mother, I am not Sir Roberts sonne,
260I haue disclaim'd Sir Robert and my land,
¶Legitimation, name, and all is gone;
¶Then good my mother, let me know my father,
¶Some proper man I hope, who was it mother?
265Bast. As faithfully as I denie the deuill.
¶Lady. King Richard Cordelion was thy father,
¶To make roome for him in my husbands bed:
¶Bast. Now by this light were I to get againe,
¶Madam I would not wish a better father:
¶Some sinnes doe beare their priuiledge on earth,
¶Subiected tribute to commanding loue,
280Nor keepe his Princely heart from Richards hand:
¶He that perforce robs Lions of their hearts,
¶May easily winne a womans: aye my mother,
¶With all my heart I thanke thee for my father:
¶Come Lady I will shew thee to my kinne,
290
Exeunt.
¶
Scæna Secunda.
¶
Enter before Angiers, Philip King of France, Lewis,_Daul-
295Arthur that great fore-runner of thy bloud,
¶Richard that rob'd the Lion of his heart,
¶And fought the holy Warres in Palestine,
¶By this braue Duke came early to his graue:
¶And for amends to his posteritie,
300At our importance hether is he come,
¶And to rebuke the vsurpation
¶Of thy vnnaturall Vncle, English Iohn,
¶Embrace him, loue him, giue him welcome hether.
¶The rather, that you giue his off-spring life,
¶Shadowing their right vnder your wings of warre:
¶But with a heart full of vnstained loue,
310Welcome before the gates of Angiers Duke.
¶As seale to this indenture of my loue:
¶That to my home I will no more returne
¶Together with that pale, that white-fac'd shore,
¶And coopes from other lands her Ilanders,
¶Euen till that England hedg'd in with the maine,
¶And confident from forreine purposes,
¶Salute thee for her King, till then faire boy
¶Will I not thinke of home,_but follow Armes.
325Const. O take his mothers thanks, a widdows thanks,
¶To make a more requitaIl to your loue.
¶To cull the plots of best aduantages:
¶Wee'll lay before this towne our Royal bones,
335Wade to the market-place in French-mens bloud,
¶But we will make it subiect to this boy.
¶My Lord Chattilion may from England bring
340That right in peace which heere we vrge in warre,
¶And then we shall repent each drop of bloud,
¶
Enter Chattilion.
350England impatient of your iust demands,
¶To land his Legions all as soone as I:
¶His marches are expedient to this towne,
¶With him along is come the Mother Queene,
¶With her her Neece, the Lady Blanch of Spaine,
360And all th'vnsetled humors of the Land,
¶Haue sold their fortunes at their natiue homes,
¶Bearing their birth-rights proudly on their backs,
365To make a hazard of new fortunes heere:
¶Then now the English bottomes haue waft o're,
¶Did neuer flote vpon the swelling tide,
370The interruption of their churlish drums
¶Cuts off more circumstance, they are at hand,
¶
Drum beats._
¶To parlie or to fight, therefore prepare.
¶Kin. How much vnlook'd for, is this expedition.
¶We must awake indeuor for defence,
¶For courage mounteth with occasion,
¶Let them be welcome then, we are prepar'd.
¶
Enter K. of England, Bastard, Queene, Blanch, Pembroke,
380_and others.
¶K._Iohn. Peace be to France: If France in peace permit
¶Our iust and lineall entrance to our owne;
¶If not, bleede France, and peace ascend to heauen.
¶Whiles we Gods wrathfull agent doe correct
385Their proud contempt that beats his peace to heauen.
¶Fran. Peace be to England, if that warre returne
¶From France to England, there to liue in peace:
¶England we loue, and for that Englands sake,
¶With burden of our armor heere we sweat:
390This toyle of ours should be a worke of thine;
¶But thou from louing England art so farre,
¶That thou hast vnder-wrought his lawfull King,
¶Out-faced Infant State, and done a rape
395Vpon the maiden vertue of the Crowne:
¶Looke heere vpon thy brother Geffreyes face,
¶This little abstract doth containe that large,
¶Which died in Geffrey:_and the hand of time,
400Shall draw this breefe into as huge a volume:
¶That Geffrey was thy elder brother borne,
¶And this his sonne, England was Geffreys right,
¶And this is Geffreyes in the name of God:
¶How comes it then that thou art call'd a King,
405When liuing blood doth in these temples beat
¶To draw my answer from thy Articles?
¶To looke into the blots and staines of right,
¶That Iudge hath made me guardian to this boy,
¶Vnder whose warrant I impeach thy wrong,
420That thou maist be a Queen, and checke the world.
¶As thine was to thy husband, and this boy
¶Liker in feature to his father Geffrey
¶Then thou and Iohn,_in manners being as like,
425As raine to water, or deuill to his damme;
¶His father neuer was so true begot,
¶It cannot be,_and if thou wert his mother.
430Const. There's a good grandame boy
¶That would blot thee.
¶Aust. Peace.
¶Bast. Heare the Cryer.
¶Aust. What the deuill art thou?
¶And a may catch your hide and yon alone:
¶You are the Hare of whom the Prouerb goes
¶Whose valour plucks dead Lyons by the beard;
¶Ile smoake your skin-coat and I catch you right,
¶Blan. O well did he become that Lyons robe,
¶That did disrobe the Lion of that robe.
¶With this abundance of superfluous breath?
450Lew. Women & fooles, breake off your conference.
¶King Iohn, this is the very summe of all:
¶In right of Arthur doe I claime of thee:
¶Arthur of Britaine, yeeld thee to my hand,
¶And out of my deere loue Ile giue thee more,
¶Then ere the coward hand of France can win;
¶Submit thee boy.
460Queen. Come to thy grandame child.
¶Giue grandame kingdome, and it grandame will
¶Giue yt a plum,_a cherry, and a figge,
¶There's a good grandame.
465Arthur. Good my mother peace,
¶I would that I were low laid in my graue,
¶I am not worth this coyle that's made for me.
470His grandames wrongs, and not his mothers shames
¶Drawes those heauen-mouing pearles frō his poor eies,
¶Which heauen shall take in nature of a fee:
¶The Dominations,_Royalties, and rights
480Infortunate in nothing but in thee:
¶The Canon of the Law is laide on him,
¶Being but the second generation
¶Remoued from thy sinne-conceiuing wombe.
485Iohn. Bedlam haue done.
¶That he is not onely plagued for her sin,
¶But God hath made her sinne and her, the plague
490And with her plague her sinne: his iniury
¶Her iniurie the Beadle to her sinne,
¶And all for her, a plague vpon her.
495A Will, that barres the title of thy sonne.
¶Con. I who doubts that, a Will: a wicked will,
¶A womans will, a cankred Grandams will.
500To these ill-tuned repetitions:
¶Some Trumpet summon hither to the walles
¶Whose title they admit, Arthurs or Iohns.
¶
Trumpet sounds.
505
Enter a Citizen vpon the walles.
¶Cit. Who is it that hath warn'd vs to the walles?
¶Fra. 'Tis France, for England.
¶You men of Angiers, and my louing subiects.
¶Our Trumpet call'd you to this gentle parle.
¶These flagges of France that are aduanced heere
¶Before the eye and prospect of your Towne,
515Haue hither march'd to your endamagement.
¶The Canons haue their bowels full of wrath,
¶And ready mounted are they to spit forth
¶Their Iron indignation 'gainst your walles:
¶All preparation for a bloody siedge
520And merciles proceeding, by these French.
¶Comfort yours Citties eies, your winking gates:
¶That as a waste doth girdle you about
¶By the compulsion of their Ordinance,
525By this time from their fixed beds of lime
¶Had bin dishabited, and wide hauocke made
¶For bloody power to rush vppon your peace.
¶But on the sight of vs your lawfull King,
¶Who painefully with much expedient march
530Haue brought a counter-checke before your gates,
¶Behold the French amaz'd vouchsafe a parle,
¶And now insteed of bulletts wrapt in fire
¶To make a shaking feuer in your walles,
¶Which trust accordingly kinde Cittizens,
540Craues harbourage within your Citie walIes.
¶Loe in this right hand, whose protection
¶Is most diuinely vow'd vpon the right
¶Of him it holds, stands yong Plantagenet,
545Sonne to the elder brother of this man,
¶And King ore him, and all that he enioyes:
¶For this downe-troden equity, we tread
¶In warlike march, these greenes before your Towne,
¶Being no further enemy to you
¶To pay that dutie which you truly owe,
¶To him that owes it, namely, this yong Prince,
555And then our Armes, like to a muzled Beare,
¶Against th' involuerable clouds of heauen,
560With vnhack'd swords, and Helmets all vnbruis'd,
¶We will beare home that lustie blood againe,
¶And leaue your children, wiues, and you in peace.
565'Tis not the rounder of your old-fac'd walles,
¶Were harbour'd in their rude circumference:
¶Then tell vs, Shall your Citie call vs Lord,
570In that behalfe which we haue challeng'd it?
¶For him, and in his right, we hold this Towne.
575Iohn. Acknowledge then the King, and let me in.
¶Cit. That can we not: but he that proues the King
¶To him will we proue loyall, till that time
¶Haue we ramm'd vp our gates against the world.
¶Iohn. Doth not the Crowne of England, prooue the
580_King?
¶Twice fifteene thousand hearts of Englands breed.
¶Iohn. To verifie our title with their liues.
¶Fran. Stand in his face to contradict his claime.
¶We for the worthiest hold the right from both.
¶Before the dew of euening fall, shall fleete
¶In dreadfull triall of our kingdomes King.
¶Fran. Amen, Amen, mount Cheualiers to Armes.
¶Teach vs some fence. Sirrah, were I at home
¶I would set an Oxe-head to your Lyons hide :
600And make a monster of you.
¶Aust. Peace, no more.
¶Bast. O tremble : for you heare the Lyon rore.
¶In best appointment all our Regiments.
605Bast_. Speed then to take aduantage of the field.
Exeunt
¶
Heere after excursions, Enter the Herald of France
¶
with Trumpets to the gates.
610F. Her. You men of Angiers open wide your gates,
¶And let yong Arthur Duke of Britaine in,
¶Who by the hand of France, this day hath made
¶Much worke for teares in many an English mother,
615Many a widdowes husband groueling lies,
¶Coldly embracing the discoloured earrh,
¶Vpon the dancing banners of the French,
¶Who are at hand triumphantly displayed
620To enter Conquerors, and to proclaime
¶Arthur of Britaine, Englands King, and yours.
¶
Enter English Herald with Trumpet.
¶King Iohn, your king and Englands, doth approach,
625Commander of this hot malicious day,
¶Hither returne all gilt with Frenchmens blood:
¶That is remoued by a staffe of France.
¶And like a iolly troope of Huntsmen come
¶Dide in the dying slaughter of their foes,
635Open your gates, and giue the Victors way.
¶Of both yonr Armies, whose equality
¶Strength matcht with strength, and power confronted
¶_power,
¶Both are alike,_and both alike we like:
645We hold our Towne for neither: yet for both.
¶
Enter the two Kings with their powers,
¶
at seuerall doores.
¶Say, shall the currant of our right rome on,
¶Shall leaue his natiue channell, and ore-swell
¶In this hot triall more then we of France,
¶That swayes the earth this Climate ouer-lookes,
¶Before we will lay downe our iust-borne Armes,
¶Or adde a royall number to the dead:
¶With slaughter coupled to the name of kings.
665When the rich blood of kings is set on fire:
¶Oh now doth death line his dead chaps with steele,
¶In vndetermin'd differences of kings.
¶Cry hauocke kings, backe to the stained field
¶You equall Potents, fierie kindled spirits,
¶Then let confusion of one part confirm
¶The others peace: till then, blowes, blood, and death.
¶Hub. The king of England, when we know the king.
¶Fra. Know him in vs, that heere hold vp his right.
¶Iohn. In Vs, that are our owne great Deputie,
¶Fra. A greater powre then We denies all this,
¶And till it be vndoubted,_we do locke
685Kings of our feare, vntill our feares resolu'd
¶Be by some certaine king, purg'd and depos'd.
¶As in a Theater, whence they gape and point
690At your industrious Scenes and acts of death.
¶Your Royall presences be rul'd by mee,
¶Do like the Mutines of Ierusalem,
¶Be friends a-while, and both conioyntly bend
¶Their battering Canon charged to the mouthes,
¶Till their soule-fearing clamours haue braul'd downe
¶The flintie ribbes of this contemptuous Citie,
700Euen till vnfenced desolation
¶Leaue them as naked as the vulgar ayre:
¶And part your mingled colours once againe,
¶Turne face to face, and bloody point to point:
705Then in a moment Fortune shall cull forth
¶Out of one side her happy Minion,
¶How like you this wilde counsell mighty States,
710Smackes it not something of the policie.
¶Iohn. Now by the sky that hangs aboue our heads,
¶I like it well. France, shall we knit our powres,
¶And lay this Angiers euen with the ground,
¶Then after fight who shall be king of it?
¶Being wrong'd as we are by this peeuish Towne:
¶Turne thou the mouth of thy Artillerie,
¶And when that we haue dash'd them to the ground,
720Why then defie each other, and pell-mell,
¶Make worke vpon our selues, for heauen or hell.
¶Into this Cities bosome.
725Aust. I from the North.
¶Fran. Our Thunder from the South,
¶Shall raine their drift of bullets on this Towne.
730Ile stirre them to it: Come, away, away.
¶Win you this Citie without stroke, or wound,
735That heere come sacrifices for the field.
¶Perseuer not, but heare me mighty kings.
¶Iohn. Speake on with fauour, we are bent to heare.
¶Is neere to England, looke vpon the yeeres
740Of Lewes the Dolphin, and that louely maid.
¶Where should he finde it fairer, then in Blanch:
¶Where should he finde it purer then in Blanch?
745If loue ambitious, sought a match of birth,
¶Whose veines bound richer blood then Lady Blanch?
¶Such as she is, in beautie, vertue, birth,
¶Is the yong Dolphin euery way compleat,
750And she againe wants nothing, to name want,
¶If want it be not, that she is not hee:
¶And she a faire diuided excellence,
¶Do glorifie the bankes that bound them in:
760To these two Princes, if you marrie them:
¶This Vnion shall do more then batterie can
765And giue you entrance: but without this match,
¶Lyons more confident, Mountaines and rockes
¶More free from motion, no not death himselfe
¶In mortall furie halfe so peremptorie,
770As we to keepe this Citie.
¶Out of his ragges. Here's a large mouth indeede,
775Talkes as familiarly of roaring Lyons,
¶As maids of thirteene do of puppi-dogges.
¶What Cannoneere begot this lustie blood,
¶He giues the bastinado with his tongue:
780Our eares are cudgel'd, not a word of his
¶But buffets better then a fist of France:
¶Zounds, I was neuer so bethumpt with words,
¶Since I first cal'd my brothers father Dad.
785Giue with our Neece a dowrie large enough,
¶That yon greene boy shall haue no Sunne to ripe
¶The bloome that promiseth a mightie fruite.
790I see a yeelding in the lookes of France:
¶Are capeable of this ambition,
¶Least zeale now melted by the windie breath
795Coole and congeale againe to what it was.
¶This friendly treatie of our threatned Towne.
¶Can in this booke of beautie read, I loue:
¶Her Dowrie shall weigh equall with a Queene:
¶For Angiers, and faire Toraine Maine, Poyctiers,
¶And all that we vpon this side the Sea,
805(Except this Cittie now by vs besiedg'd)
¶Finde liable to our Crowne and Dignitie,
¶Shall gild her bridall bed and make her rich
¶In titles, honors, and promotions,
¶Dol. I do my Lord, and in her eie I find
¶A wonder, or a wondrous miracle,
¶Till now, infixed I beheld my selfe,
¶Drawne in the flattering table of her eie.
820
Whispers with Blanch.
¶Bast. Drawne in the flattering table of her eie,
¶Hang'd in the frowning wrinkle of her brow,
¶And quarter'd in her heart, hee doth espie
¶Himselfe loues traytor, this is pittie now;
825That hang'd, and drawne, and quarter'd there should be
¶If he see ought in you that makes him like,
¶That any thing he see's which moues his liking,
¶Or if you will, to speake more properly,
¶I will enforce it easlie to my loue.
¶Further I will not flatter you, my Lord,
¶That all I see in you is worthie loue,
835Then this, that nothing do I see in you,
¶_Iudge,
¶That I can finde, should merit any hate.
840Neece?
¶Iohn. Speake then Prince Dolphin, can you loue this
¶Ladie?
845Dol. Nay aske me if I can refraine from loue,
¶For I doe loue her most vnfainedly.
¶Poyctiers and Aniow, these fiue Prouinces
¶With her to thee, and this addition more,
¶Phillip of France, if thou be pleas'd withall,
¶Command thy sonne and daughtet to ioyne hands.
¶Fra. Now Cittizens of Angires ope your gates,
¶Let in that amitie which you haue made,
¶For at Saint Maries Chappell presently,
860Is not the Ladie Constance in this troope?
¶I know she is not for this match made vp,
¶Her presence would haue interrupted much.
865Fra. And by my faith, this league that we haue made
¶Brother of England, how may we content
¶This widdow Lady? In her right we came,
¶Which we God knowes, haue turnd another way,
870To our owne vantage.
¶Iohn. We will heale vp all,
¶For wee'l create yong Arthur Duke of Britaine
¶And Earle of Richmond, and this rich faire Towne
¶We make him Lord of. Call the Lady Constance,
¶(If not fill vp the measure of her will)
¶To this vnlook'd for vnprepared pompe.
Exeunt.
¶Iohn to stop Arthurs Title in the whole,
¶Hath willingly departed with a part,
¶Whom zeale and charitie brought to the field,
¶As Gods owne souldier, rounded in the eare,
¶That Broker, that still breakes the pate of faith,
890That dayly breake-vow, he that winnes of all,
¶Of kings, of beggers, old men, yong men,_maids,
¶Who hauing no externall thing to loose,
¶But the word Maid, cheats the poore Maide of that.
¶That smooth-fac'd Gentleman, tickling commoditie,
895Commoditie, the byas of the world,
¶Made to run euen, vpon euen ground;
¶Till this aduantage, this vile drawing byas,
¶This sway of motion, this commoditie,
900Makes it take head from all indifferency,
¶And this same byas, this Commoditie,
¶This Bawd, this Broker, this all-changing-word,
¶Clap'd on the outward eye of fickle France,
905Hath drawne him from his owne determin'd ayd,
¶From a resolu'd and honourable warre,
¶And why rayle I on this Commoditie?
¶But for because he hath not wooed me yet:
910Not that I haue the power to clutch my hand,
¶When his faire Angels would salute my palme,
¶But for my hand, as vnattempted yet,
¶Like a poore begger, raileth on the rich.
¶Well, whiles I am a begger, I will raile,
¶And being rich, my vertue then shall be,
¶To say there is no vice, but beggerie:
¶Since Kings breake faith vpon commoditie,
¶Gaine be my Lord, for I will worship thee.
Exit.
920
Actus Secundus
¶
Enter Constance, Arthur,_and Salisbury.
¶Shall Lewis haue Blaunch, and Blaunch those Prouinces?
¶Be well aduis'd, tell ore thy tale againe.
¶Is but the vaine breath of a common man:
930Beleeue me, I doe not beleeue thee man,
¶I haue a Kings oath to the contrarie.
¶For I am sicke, and capeable of feares,
¶Opprest with wrongs, and therefore full of feares,
¶A woman naturally borne to feares;
¶With my vext spirits, I cannot take a Truce,
¶But they will quake and tremble all this day.
¶What meanes that hand vpon that breast of thine?
¶Why holdes thine eie that lamentable rhewme,
¶Like a proud riuer peering ore his bounds?
¶Then speake againe, not all thy former tale,
¶But this one word, whether thy tale be true.
¶Teach thou this sorrow, how to make me dye,
¶And let beleefe, and life encounter so,
¶As doth the furie of two desperate men,
¶Which in the very meeting fall, and dye.
955Lewes marry Blaunch? O boy, then where art thou?
¶France friend with England, what becomes of me?
¶Fellow be gone: I cannot brooke thy sight,
¶This newes hath made thee a most vgly man.
¶Sal. What other harme haue I good Lady done,
960But spoke the harme, that is by others done?
¶As it makes harmefull all that speake of it.
965Vgly, and slandrous to thy Mothers wombe,
¶Patch'd with foule Moles, and eye-offending markes,
¶I would not care, I then would be content,
970For then I should not loue thee: no, nor thou
¶Become thy great birth, nor deserue a Crowne.
¶But thou art faire, and at thy birth (deere boy)
¶Nature and Fortune ioyn'd to make thee great.
975And with the halfe-blowne Rose. But Fortune, oh,
¶She is corrupted, chang'd, and wonne from thee,
¶Sh'adulterates hourely with thine Vnckle Iohn,
¶And with her golden hand hath pluckt on France
¶To tread downe faire respect of Soueraigntie,
980And made his Maiestie the bawd to theirs.
¶France is a Bawd to Fortune, and king Iohn,
¶Tell me thou fellow, is not France forsworne?
¶Euvenom him with words, or get thee gone,
985And leaue those woes alone, which I alone
¶Am bound to vnder-beare.
¶Sal. Pardon me Madam,
¶I may not goe without you to the kings.
¶For greefe is proud, and makes his owner stoope,
¶To me and to the state of my great greefe,
¶That no supporter but the huge firme earth
¶Heere is my Throne, bid kings come bow to it.
¶
Actus Tertius,_Scæna prima.
¶
Enter King Iohn, France, Dolphin, Blanch, Elianor, Philip,
¶Turning with splendor of his precious eye
1005The meager cloddy earth to glittering gold:
¶The yearely course that brings this day about,
¶Shall neuer see it, but a holy day.
¶Const. A wicked day, and not a holy day.
¶What hath this day deseru'd? what hath it done,
¶Among the high tides in the Kalender?
¶Nay, rather turne this day out of the weeke,
1015Pray that their burthens may not fall this day,
¶But (on this day) let Sea-men feare no wracke,
¶No bargaines breake that are not this day made;
¶This day all things begun, come to ill end,
¶To curse the faire proceedings of this day:
¶Haue I not pawn'd to you my Maiesty?
¶Const. You haue beguil'd me with a counterfeit
¶You came in Armes to spill mine enemies bloud,
¶But now in Armes, you strengthen it with yours.
¶The grapling vigor, and rough frowne of Warre
1030Is cold in amitie, and painted peace,
¶A widdow cries, be husband to me (heauens)
¶Let not the howres of this vngodly day
1035Weare out the daies in Peace; but ere Sun-set,
¶Heare me, Oh, heare me.
¶Thou little valiant,_great in villanie,
1045But when her humourous Ladiship is by
¶To teach thee safety: thou art periur'd too,
¶Vpon my partie: thou cold blooded slaue,
¶Beene sworne my Souldier, bidding me depend
¶And dost thou now fall ouer to my foes?
¶Thou weare a Lyons hide, doff it for shame,
1055And hang a Calues skin on those recreant limbes.
¶
Enter Pandulph.
¶Fra. Heere comes the holy Legat of the Pope.
¶Pan. Haile you annointed deputies of heauen;
¶To thee King Iohn my holy errand is:
1065I Pandulph, of faire Millane Cardinall,
¶And from Pope Innocent the Legate heere,
¶Doe in his name religiously demand
¶Of Canterbury from that holy Sea:
¶This in our foresaid holy Fathers name
¶Pope Innocent, I doe demand of thee.
¶Iohn. What earthie name to Interrogatories
¶To charge me to an answere, as the Pope:
¶Tell him this tale,_and from the mouth of England,
1080Adde thus much more, that no Italian Priest
¶Shall tythe or toll in our dominions:
¶But as we, vnder heauen, are supreame head,
¶So vnder him that great supremacy
¶Where we doe reigne, we will alone vphold
¶So tell the Pope, all reuerence set apart
¶To him and his vsurp'd authoritie.
¶Dreading the curse that money may buy out,
¶Purchase corrupted pardon of a man,
¶This iugling witchcraft with reuennue cherish,
¶Yet I alone, alone doe me oppose
¶Against the Pope, and count his friends my foes.
¶Pand. Then by the lawfull power that I haue,
¶From his Allegeance to an heretique,
¶And meritorious shall that hand be call'd,
¶Canonized and worship'd as a Saint,
¶Thy hatefull life.
¶Con. O lawfull let it be
¶That I haue roome with Rome to curse a while,
¶Good Father Cardinall, cry thou Amen
1110To my keene curses; for without my wrong
¶There is no tongue hath power to curse him right.
¶Let it be lawfull,_that Law barre no wrong:
1115Law cannot giue my childe his kingdome heere;
¶For he that holds his Kingdome,_holds the Law:
1120Let goe the hand of that Arch-heretique,
¶And raise the power of France vpon his head,
¶Bast. And hang a Calues-skin on his recreant limbs.
¶Because,
¶Dolph. Bethinke you father, for the difference
¶Forgoe the easier.
¶But from her need.
¶Con. Oh, if thou grant my need,
¶Which onely liues but by the death of faith,
¶That need, must needs inferre this principle,
1145That faith would liue againe by death of need:
¶O then tread downe my need,_and faith mounts vp,
¶Keepe my need vp,_and faith is trodden downe.
¶This royall hand and mine are newly knit,
¶And the coniunction of our inward soules
¶Married in league, coupled,_and link'd together
¶Was deepe-sworne faith, peace, amity, true loue
¶Betweene our kingdomes and our royall selues,
¶And euen before this truce, but new before,
1165No longer then we well could wash our hands,
¶To clap this royall bargaine vp of peace,
¶With slaughters pencill; where reuenge did paint
¶The fearefull difference of incensed kings:
1175As now againe to snatch our palme from palme:
¶And make a ryot on the gentle brow
¶Of true sincerity? O holy Sir
1180My reuerend father, let it not be so;
¶To doe your pleasure, and continue friends.
1185Saue what is opposite to Englands loue.
¶Therefore to Armes, be Champion of our Church,
¶Or let the Church our mother breathe her curse,
1190A cased Lion by the mortall paw,
¶Then keepe in peace that hand which thou dost hold.
¶Thy tongue against thy tongue. O let thy vow
¶That is, to be the Champion of our Church,
1200And may not be performed by thy selfe,
¶And being not done,_where doing tends to ill,
¶The truth is then most done not doing it:
¶Is to mistake again, though indirect,
¶Yet indirection thereby growes direct,
¶Within the scorched veines of one new burn'd:
1210It is religion that doth make vowes kept,
¶Then arme thy constant and thy nobler parts
¶Vpon which better part, our prayrs come in,
¶The perill of our curses light on thee
¶But in despaire, dye vnder their blacke weight.
1230Bast. Wil't not be?
¶Will not a Calues-skin stop that mouth of thine?
¶Blanch. Vpon thy wedding day?
¶Shall braying trumpets, and loud churlish drums
¶Clamors of hell, be measures to our pomp?
¶O husband heare me: aye, alacke, how new
¶Is husband in my mouth? euen for that name
1240Which till this time my tongue did nere pronounce;
¶Vpon my knee I beg, goe not to Armes
¶Against mine Vncle.
¶Const. O, vpon my knee made hard with kneeling,
¶I doe pray to thee, thou vertuous Daulphin,
1245Alter not the doome fore-thought by heauen.
¶His Honor, Oh thine Honor, Lewis thine Honor.
¶I am with both, each Army hath a hand,
¶And in their rage, I hauing hold of both,
¶Husband, I cannot pray that thou maist winne:
¶Father, I may not wish the fortune thine:
¶France,_I am burn'd vp with inflaming wrath,
¶A rage, whose heat hath this condition;
1275That nothing can allay,_nothing but blood,
¶The blood and deerest valued bloud of France.
¶
Exeunt.
¶
Scœna Secunda.
¶_head.
¶Some ayery Deuill houers in the skie,
¶
Enter Iohn,_Arthur,_Hubert.
¶While Philip breathes.
1290Iohn. Hubert, keepe this boy: Philip make vp,
¶And tane I feare.
1295But on my Liege, for very little paines
¶Will bring this labor to an happy end.
Exit.
¶
Alarums, excursions, Retreat. Enter Iohn_ Eleanor,_Arthur
¶Thy Grandame loues thee, and thy Vnkle will
¶As deere be to thee, as thy father was.
¶Arth. O this will make my mother die with griefe.
¶Of hoording Abbots, imprisoned angells
¶Set at libertie: the fat ribs of peace
¶Must by the hungry now be fed vpon:
¶When gold and siluer becks me to come on.
¶(If euer I remember to be holy)
¶Iohn. Coz, farewell.
¶Iohn. Come hether Hubert. O my gentle Hubert,
¶We owe thee much: within this wall of flesh
1320There is a soule counts thee her Creditor,
¶And with aduantage meanes to pay thy loue:
¶And my good friend, thy voluntary oath
¶Giue me thy hand, I had a thing to say,
1325But I will fit it with some better tune.
¶Yet it shall come, for me to doe thee good.
¶I had a thing to say, but let it goe:
¶The Sunne is in the heauen, and the proud day,
¶Attended with the pleasures of the world,
1335Is all too wanton, and too full of gawdes
¶To giue me audience: If the mid-night bell
¶Did with his yron tongue,_and brazen mouth
¶Sound on into the drowzie race of night:
¶Had bak'd thy bloud,_and made it heauy, thicke,
¶Which else runnes tickling vp and downe the veines,
¶Making that idiot laughter keepe mens eyes_,
1345And straine their cheekes to idle merriment,
¶Heare me without thine eares, and make reply
¶Without a tongue, vsing conceit alone,
¶Then, in despight of brooded watchfull day,
¶I would into thy bosome poure my thoughts:
¶But (ah) I will not, yet I loue thee well,
¶And by my troth I thinke thou lou'st me well.
¶Though that my death were adiunct to my Act,
¶By heauen I would doe it.
¶Good Hubert, Hubert, Hubert throw thine eye
1360On yon young boy: Ile tell thee what my friend,
¶He is a very serpent in my way,
¶And wheresoere this foot of mine doth tread,
¶Thou art his keeper.
¶Iohn. Death.
¶Hub. My Lord.
¶Iohn. A Graue.
¶Iohn. Enough.
¶I could be merry now,_Hubert, I loue thee.
¶Well, Ile not say what I intend for thee:
¶Remember: Madam, Fare you well,
¶Hubert shall be your man, attend on you
¶With al true duetie: On toward Callice,_hoa.
1380
Exeunt.
¶
Scæna Tertia.
¶
Enter France, Dolphin, Pandulpho, Attendants.
¶A whole Armado of conuicted saile
¶Are we not beaten? Is not Angiers lost?
1390And bloudy England into England gone,
¶Ore-bearing interruption spight of France?
¶Dol. What he hath won, that hath he fortified:
1395Doth want example: who hath read,_or heard
¶Of any kindred-action like to this?
¶
Enter Constance.
1400Looke who comes heere? a graue vnto a soule,
¶In the vilde prison of afflicted breath:
¶I prethee Lady goe away with me.
¶Death, death, O amiable, louely death,
¶Thou hate and terror to prosperitie,
¶And put my eye-balls in thy vaultie browes,
¶O come to me.
1420Fra. O faire affliction, peace.
¶O that my tongue were in the thunders mouth,
¶And rowze from sleepe that fell Anatomy
1425Which cannot heare a Ladies feeble voyce,
¶Which scornes a moderne Inuocation.
¶I am not mad: this haire I teare is mine,
1430My name is Constance, I was Geffreyes wife,
¶I am not mad, I would to heauen I were,
¶O, if I could, what griefe should I forget?
¶And thou shalt be Canoniz'd (Cardinall.)
¶How I may be deliuer'd of these woes,
1440And teaches mee to kill or hang my selfe:
¶Or madly thinke a babe of clowts were he;
¶I am not mad: too well, too well I feele
¶The different plague of each calamitie.
¶In the faire multitude of those her haires;
¶Where but by chance a filuer drop hath falne,
¶Euen to that drop ten thousand wiery fiends
1450Like true, inseparable, faithfull loues,
¶Sticking together in calamitie.
¶Con. To England, if you will.
¶Fra. Binde vp your haires.
¶Con. Yes that I will: and wherefore will I do it?
1455I tore them from their bonds, and cride aloud,
¶As they haue giuen these hayres their libertie:
¶But now I enuie at their libertie,
¶And will againe commit them to their bonds,
¶And Father Cardinall, I haue heard you say
¶There was not such a gracious creature borne:
¶But now will Canker-sorrow eat my bud,
¶And chase the natiue beauty from his cheeke,
¶And he will looke as hollow as a Ghost,
1470As dim and meager as an Agues fitte,
¶When I shall meet him in the Court of heauen
¶I shall not know him: therefore neuer, neuer
¶Must I behold my pretty Arthur more.
¶Fra. You are as fond of greefe, as of your childe.
¶Lies in his bed,_walkes vp and downe with me,
1480Puts on his pretty lookes, repeats his words,
¶Remembets me of all his gracious parts,
¶Stuffes out his vacant garments with his forme;
1485I could giue better comfort then you doe.
¶I will not keepe this forme vpon my head,
¶O Lord, my boy, my Arthur, my faire sonne,
¶My life, my ioy, my food, my all the world:
Exit.
¶Dol. There's nothing in this world can make me ioy,
¶Life is as tedious as a twice-told tale,
¶Vexing the dull eare of a drowsie man;
¶Euen in the instant of repaire and health,
¶Pan. If you had won it, certainely you had.
¶No, no: when Fortune meanes to men most good,
1505Shee lookes vpon them with a threatning eye:
¶Dol. As heartily as he is glad he hath him.
1510Pan. Your minde is all as youthfull as your blood.
¶For euen the breath of what I meane to speake,
¶Out of the path which shall directly lead
1515Thy foote to Englands Throne. And therefore marke:
¶Iohn hath seiz'd Arthur, and it cannot be,
¶That whiles warme life playes in that infants veines,
¶One minute, nay one quiet breath of rest.
1520A Scepter snatch'd with an vnruly hand,
¶Makes nice of no vilde hold to stay him vp:
1525So be it, for it cannot be but so.
¶May then make all the claime that Arthur did.
¶Iohn layes you plots: the times conspire with you,
¶Shall finde but bloodie safety, and vntrue.
1535Of all his people, and freeze vp their zeale,
¶To checke his reigne, but they will cherish it.
¶No naturall exhalation in the skie,
1540No common winde, no customed euent,
¶But they will plucke away his naturall cause,
¶And call them Meteors, prodigies, and signes,
¶Abbortiues, presages, and tongues of heauen,
¶Plainly denouncing vengeance vpon Iohn.
1545Dol. May be he will not touch yong Arthurs life,
¶If that yong Arthur be not gone alreadie,
¶Euen at that newes he dies: and then the hearts
1550Of all his people shall reuolt from him,
¶And picke strong matter of reuolt, and wrath
¶Out of the bloody fingers ends of Iohn.
¶Me thinkes I see this hurley all on foot;
1555And O, what better matter breeds for you,
¶Then I haue nam'd. The Bastard Falconbridge
¶Is now in England ransacking the Church,
¶Offending Charity: If but a dozen French
¶Were there in Armes, they would be as a Call
¶Or, as a little snow, tumbled about,
¶Anon becomes a Mountaine. O noble Dolphine,
¶Go with me to the King, 'tis wonderfull,
¶What may be wrought out of their discontent,
1565Now that their soules are topfull of offence,
¶For England go; I will whet on the King.
Exeunt.
¶
Actus Quartus, Scæna prima.
1570
Enter Hubert and Executioners.
¶Within the Arras: when I strike my foot
¶And binde the boy, which you shall finde with me
¶Exec. I hope your warrant will beare out the deed.
¶Yong Lad come forth; I haue to say with you.
¶
Enter Arthur.
1580Ar. Good morrow Hubert.
¶Hub. Good morrow, little Prince.
¶To be more Prince, as may be: you are sad.
¶Hub. Indeed I haue beene merrier.
1585Art. 'Mercie on me:
¶Yet I remember, when I was in France,
¶Yong Gentlemen would be as sad as night
1590So I were out of prison, and kept Sheepe
¶I should be as merry as the day is long:
¶And so I would be heere, but that I doubt
¶My Vnckle practises more harme to me:
¶He is affraid of me, and I of him:
1595Is it my fault, that I was Geffreyes sonne?
¶No in deede is't not: and I would to heauen
¶Hub. If I talke to him, with his innocent prate
¶He will awake my mercie, which lies dead:
¶I warrant I loue you more then you do me.
¶Reade heere yong Arthnr. How now foolish rheume?
¶Turning dispitious torture out of doore?
¶Out at mine eyes, in tender womanish teares.
1610Can you not reade it? Is it not faire writ?
¶Must you with hot Irons, burne out both mine eyes?
¶Art. And will you?
1615Hub. And I will.
¶Art. Haue you the heart? When your head did but
¶_ake,
¶I knit my hand-kercher about your browes
1620And I did neuer aske it you againe:
¶And with my hand, at midnight held your head;
¶And like the watchfull minutes, to the houre,
¶Still and anon cheer'd vp the heauy time;
¶Saying,_what lacke you? and where lies your greefe?
1625Or what good loue may I performe for you?
¶And nere haue spoke a louing word to you:
¶Nay, you may thinke my loue was craftie loue,
1630And call it cunning. Do, and if you will,
¶Why then you must. Will you put out mine eyes?
¶So much as frowne on you.
¶And with hot Irons must I burne them out.
¶Ar. Ah, none but in this Iron Age, would do it:
¶The Iron of it selfe, though heate red hot,
¶Approaching neere these eyes, would drinke my teares,
1640And quench this fierie indignation,
¶Euen in the matter of mine innocence:
¶But for containing fire to harme mine eye:
¶Are you more stubborne hard, then hammer'd Iron?
1645And if an Angell should haue come to me,
¶And told me Hubert should put out mine eyes,
¶I would not haue beleeu'd him: no tongue but Huberts.
¶Hub. Come forth: Do as I bid you do.
1650Euen with the fierce lookes of these bloody men.
¶For heauen sake Hubert let me not be bound:
1655Nay heare me Hubert, driue these men away,
¶And I will sit as quiet as a Lambe.
¶Nor looke vpon the Iron angerly:
1660What euer torment you do put me too.
¶Art. Alas, I then haue chid away my friend,
¶He hath a sterne looke, but a gentle heart:
¶Giue life to yours.
1670Art. O heauen: that there were but a moth in yours,
¶Art. Hubert, the vtterance of a brace of tongues,
¶Must needes want pleading for a paire of eyes:
¶Let me not hold my tongue: let me not Hubert,
¶Or Hubert, if you will cut out my tongue,
1680So I may keepe mine eyes. O spare mine eyes,
¶Loe, by my troth, the Instrument is cold,
¶And would not harme me.
¶Hub. I can heate it, Boy.
¶Being create for comfort, to be vs'd
¶There is no malice in this burning cole,
¶The breath of heauen, hath blowne his spirit out,
¶Hub. But with my breath I can reuiue it Boy.
¶And glow with shame of your proceedings, Hubert:
¶Nay, it perchance will sparkle in your eyes:
1695And, like a dogge that is compell'd to fight,
¶Snatch at his Master that doth tarre him on.
¶Deny their office: onely you do lacke
¶That mercie, which fierce fire, and Iron extends,
1700Creatures of note for mercy, lacking vses.
¶For all the Treasure that thine Vnckle owes,
¶With this same very Iron, to burne them out.
1705Art. O now you looke like Hubert. All this while
¶You were disguis'd.
¶Your Vnckle must not know but you are dead.
¶That Hubert for the wealth of all the world,
¶Will not offend thee.
¶Art. O heauen! I thanke you Hubert.
1715Much danger do I vndergo for thee.
Exeunt
¶
Scena Secunda.
¶
Enter Iohn, Pembroke, Salisbury, and other Lordes.
¶And look'd vpon, I hope, with chearefull eyes.
¶Was once superfluous: you were Crown'd before,
¶And that high Royalty was nere pluck'd off:
¶The faiths of men, nere stained with reuolt:
¶Fresh expectation troubled not the Land
1725With any long'd-for-change, or better State.
¶To guard a Title, that was rich before;
¶To gilde refined Gold, to paint the Lilly;
¶To throw a perfume on the Violet,
1730To smooth the yce, or adde another hew
¶Vnto the Raine-bow; or with Taper-light
1735This acte, is as an ancient tale new told,
¶Sal. In this the Anticke, and well noted face
¶Of plaine old forme, is much disfigured,
¶It makes the course of thoughts to fetch about,
¶Startles, and frights consideration :
¶And oftentimes excusing of a fault,
¶As patches set vpon a little breach,
1750Discredite more in hiding of the fault,
¶Then did the fault before it was so patch'd.
¶Sal. To this effect, before you were new crown'd
¶We breath'd our Councell: but it pleas'd your Highnes
¶To ouer-beare it, and we are all well pleas'd,
1755Since all, and euery part of what we would
1760I shall indue you with: Meane time, but aske
¶What you would haue reform'd. that is not well,
¶And well shall you perceiue, how willingly
¶I will both heare, and grant you your requests.
¶Both for my selfe, and them: but chiefe of all
1770Doth moue the murmuring lips of discontent
¶To breake into this dangerous argument.
¶If what in rest you haue, in right you hold,
¶Why then your feares, which (as they say) attend
1775Your tender kinsman, and to choake his dayes
¶With barbarous ignorance, and deny his youth
¶The rich aduantage of good exercise,
¶That the times enemies may not haue this
1780That you haue bid vs aske his libertie,
¶Which for our goods, we do no further aske,
¶Then, whereupon our weale on you depending,
¶Counts it your weale: he haue his liberty.
¶
Enter Hubert.
¶To your direction: Hubert, what newes with you?
¶He shew'd his warrant to a friend of mine,
¶The image of a wicked heynous fault
¶And I do fearefully beleeue 'tis done,
¶What we so fear'd he had a charge to do.
¶Sal. The colour of the King doth come, and go
¶Like Heralds 'twixt two dreadfull battailes set:
¶The foule corruption of a sweet childes death.
¶Good Lords, although my will to giue, is liuing,
¶The suite which you demand is gone, and dead.
¶He tels vs Arthur is deceas'd to night.
1805Pem. Indeed we heard how neere his death he was,
¶Thinke you I beare the Sheeres of destiny?
1810Haue I commandement on the pulse of life?
¶So thriue it in your game, and so farewell.
¶Pem. Stay yet (Lord Salisbury) Ile go with thee,
1815And finde th'inheritance of this poore childe,
¶His little kingdome of a forced graue.
¶That blood which ow'd the bredth of all this Ile,
¶Three foot of it doth hold; bad world the while:
¶This must not be thus borne, this will breake out
Exeunt
¶No certaine life atchieu'd by others death:
¶A fearefull eye thou hast. Where is that blood,
¶So foule a skie, cleeres not without a storme,
¶Poure downe thy weather: how goes all in France?
¶For any forraigne preparation,
1830Was leuied in the body of a land.
¶The Copie of your speede is learn'd by them:
¶For when you should be told they do prepare,
¶The tydings comes, that they are all arriu'd.
¶Ioh. Oh where hath our Intelligence bin drunke?
1835Where hath it slept? Where is my Mothers care?
¶That such an Army could be drawne in France,
¶And she not heare of it?
¶Mes. My Liege, her eare
1840Your noble mother; and as I heare, my Lord,
¶The Lady Constance in a frenzie di'de
¶Three dayes before: but this from Rumors tongue
1845O make a league with me, 'till I haue pleas'd
¶My discontented Peeres. What? Mother dead?
¶How wildely then walkes my Estate in France?
¶That thou for truth giu'st out are landed heere?
1850Mes. Vnder the Dolphin.
¶
Enter Bastard and Peter of Pomfret.
1855My head with more ill newes: for it is full.
¶Then let the worst vn-heard, fall on your head.
¶Vnder the tide; but now I breath againe
1860Aloft the flood,_and can giue audience
¶To any tongue, speake it of what it will.
¶But as I trauail'd hither through the land,
¶Not knowing what they feare, but full of feare.
¶And here's a Prophet that I brought with me
¶From forth the streets of Pomfret, whom I found
1870With many hundreds treading on his heeles:
¶Your Highnes should deliuer vp your Crowne.
¶And on that day at noone, whereon he sayes
¶I shall yeeld vp my Crowne, let him be hang'd.
¶Deliuer him to safety, and returne,
¶Hear'st thou the newes abroad, who are arriu'd?
¶Besides I met Lord Bigot, and Lord Salisburie
¶With eyes as red as new enkindled fire,
1885And others more, going to seeke the graue
¶I haue a way to winne their loues againe:
1890Bring them before me.
¶O, let me haue no subiect enemies,
¶When aduerse Forreyners affright my Townes
¶Be Mercurie, set feathers to thy heeles,
¶And flye (like thought) from them, to me againe.
1900Go after him: for he perhaps shall neede
¶And be thou hee.
¶Mes. With all my heart, my Liege.
¶Iohn. My mother dead?
1905
Enter Hubert.
¶Foure fixed, and the fift did whirle about
¶The other foure, in wondrous motion.
¶Ioh. Fiue Moones?
¶Yong Arthurs death is common in their mouths,
¶And when they talke of him, they shake their heads,
¶And whisper one another in the eare.
¶Whilst he that heares, makes fearefull action
¶With wrinkled browes, with nods, with rolling eyes.
¶The whilst his Iron did on the Anuile coole,
1920With open mouth swallowing a Taylors newes,
¶Who with his Sheeres, and Measure in his hand,
¶Told of a many thousand warlike French,
1925That were embattailed, and rank'd in Kent.
¶Another leane, vnwash'd Artificer,
¶Cuts off his tale, and talkes of Arthurs death.
1930Thy hand hath murdred him: I had a mighty cause
¶By slaues, that take their humors for a warrant,
1935To breake within the bloody house of life,
¶And on the winking of Authoritie
¶To vnderstand a Law; to know the meaning
¶Of dangerous Maiesty, when perchance it frownes
¶More vpon humor, then aduis'd respect.
¶Is to be made, then shall this hand and Seale
¶How oft the sight of meanes to do ill deeds,
1945Make deeds ill done? Had'st not thou beene by,
¶A fellow by the hand of Nature mark'd,
¶This murther had not come into my minde.
¶But taking note of thy abhorr'd Aspect,
1950Finding thee fit for bloody villanie:
¶Apt, liable to be employ'd in danger,
¶I faintly broke with thee of Arthurs death:
¶And thou, to be endeered to a King,
1955Hub. My Lord.
¶Or turn'd an eye of doubt vpon my face;
¶And those thy feares, might haue wrought feares in me.
1965And consequently, thy rude hand to acte
¶The deed, which both our tongues held vilde to name.
¶My Nobles leaue me, and my State is braued,
¶Euen at my gates, with rankes of forraigne powres;
1970Nay, in the body of this fleshly Land,
¶This kingdome, this Confine of blood, and breathe
¶Hostilitie, and ciuill tumult reignes
1975Ile make a peace betweene your soule, and you.
¶Yong Arthur is aliue: This hand of mine
¶Is_yet a maiden, and an innocent hand.
¶Within this bosome, neuer entred yet
1980The dreadfull motion of a murderous thought,
¶And you haue slander'd Nature in my forme,
¶Which howsoeuer rude exteriorly,
¶Is yet the couer of a fayrer minde,
¶Then to be butcher of an innocent childe.
¶Throw this report on their incensed rage,
¶And make them tame to their obedience.
¶Vpon thy feature, for my rage was blinde,
1990And foule immaginarie eyes of blood
¶Presented thee more hideous then thou art.
¶The angry Lords, with all expedient hast,
Exeunt.
1995
Scœna Tertia.
¶
Enter Arthur on the walles.
¶Ar. The Wall is high, and yet will I leape downe.
¶Good ground be pittifull, and hurt me not:
¶There's few or none do know me, if they did,
¶I am afraide, and yet Ile venture it.
¶If I get downe, and do not breake my limbes,
¶As good to dye, and go; as dye, and stay.
¶Heauen take my soule, and England keep my bones.
Dies
¶
Enter Pembroke,_Salisbury,_& Bigot.
2010This gentle offer of the perillous time.
¶Pem. Who brought that Letter from the Cardinall?
¶Sal. The Count Meloone, a Noble Lord of France,
¶Whose priuate with me of the Dolphines loue,
¶Is much more generall, then these lines import.
2015Big. To morrow morning let vs meete him then.
¶Two long dayes iourney (Lords)_or ere we meete.
¶
Enter Bastard.
¶We will not lyne his thin-bestained cloake
¶With our pure Honors: nor attend the foote
¶That leaues the print of blood where ere it walkes.
2030Therefore 'twere reason you had manners now.
2035The earth had not a hole to hide this deede.
¶Doth lay it open to vrge on reuenge.
¶Big. Or when he doom'd this Beautie to a graue,
¶Found it too precious Princely, for a graue.
2040Sal. Sir Richard, what thinke you? you haue beheld,
¶Or haue you read, or heard, or could you thinke?
¶That you do see? Could thought, without this obiect
¶Forme such another? This is the very top,
¶That euer wall-ey'd wrath, or staring rage
¶To the yet vnbegotten sinne of times;
2055Exampled by this heynous spectacle.
¶If that it be the worke of any hand.
¶Sal. If that it be the worke of any hand?
2060We had a kinde of light, what would ensue:
¶It is the shamefull worke of Huberts hand,
¶The practice, and the purpose of the king:
¶Kneeling before this ruine of sweete life,
¶Neuer to be infected with delight,
2070Till I haue set a glory to this hand,
¶By giuing it the worship of Reuenge.
¶
Enter Hubert.
2075Arthur doth liue, the king hath sent for you.
¶Auant thou hatefull villain,_get thee gone.
¶I would not haue you (Lord) forget your selfe,
¶Nor tempt the danger of my true defence;
2085Least I, by marking of your rage, forget
¶Hub. Not for my life: But yet I dare defend
¶My innocent life against an Emperor.
2090Sal. Thou art a Murtherer.
¶Pem. Cut him to peeces.
¶Bast. Thou wer't better gaul the diuell Salsbury.
¶If thou but frowne on me, or stirre thy foote,
¶That you shall thinke the diuell is come from hell.
¶Big. What wilt thou do, renowned Faulconbridge?
¶Second a Villaine, and a Murtherer?
2105Hub. Lord Bigot, I am none.
¶Big. Who kill'd this Prince?
¶I honour'd him, I lou'd him, and will weepe
¶For villanie is not without such rheume,
¶And he, long traded in it, makes it seeme
¶Like Riuers of remorse and innocencie.
¶(If thou didst this deed of death) art yu damn'd Hubert.
¶Bast. Ha? Ile tell thee what.
¶Thou'rt damn'd as blacke, nay nothing is so blacke,
2125Thou art more deepe damn'd then Prince Lucifer:
¶There is not yet so vgly a fiend of hell
¶That euer Spider twisted from her wombe
2135Put but a little water in a spoone,
¶And it shall be as all the Ocean,
¶Which was embounded in this beauteous clay,
¶Let hell want paines enough to torture me:
¶I left him well.
¶Bast. Go, beare him in thine armes:
2145I am amaz'd me thinkes, and loose my way
¶Among the thornes,_and dangers of this world.
¶From forth this morcell of dead Royaltie?
¶The life, the right, and truth of all this Realme
2150Is fled to heauen: and England now is left
¶Now for the bare-pickt bone of Maiesty,
2155And snarleth in the gentle eyes of peace:
¶The iminent decay of wrested pompe.
2160Now happy he, whose cloake and center can
¶Hold out this tempest. Beare away that childe,
¶And follow me with speed: Ile to the King:
¶And heauen it selfe doth frowne vpon the Land.
Exit.
2165
Actus Quartus, Scæna prima.
¶
Enter King Iohn and Pandolph, attendants.
¶K._Iohn. Thus haue I yeelded vp into your hand
¶The Circle of my glory.
¶Pan. Take againe
2170From this my hand,_as holding of the Pope
¶To stop their marches 'fore we are enflam'd:
2175Our discontented Counties doe reuolt:
¶Our people quarrell with obedience,
¶Swearing Allegiance, and the loue of soule
¶To stranger-bloud, to forren Royalty;
¶This inundation of mistempred humor,
2180Rests by you onely to be qualified.
¶Or ouerthrow incureable ensues.
¶But since you are a gentle conuertite,
¶And make faire weather in your blustring land:
¶On this Ascention day, remember well,
2190Vpon your oath of seruice to the Pope,
¶Goe I to make the French lay downe their Armes.
Exit.
¶But (heau'n be thank'd) it is but voluntary.
¶
Enter Bastard.
¶Bast. All Kent hath yeelded: nothing there holds out
¶But Douer Castle: London hath receiu'd
2200Like a kinde Host, the Dolphin and his powers.
¶Your Nobles will not heare you,_but are gone
¶To offer seruice to your enemy:
¶And wilde amazement hurries vp and downe
¶The little number of your doubtfull friends.
2205Iohn. Would not my Lords returne to me againe
¶After they heard yong Arthur was aliue?
¶An empty Casket, where the Iewell of life
2210Iohn. That villaine Hubert told me he did liue.
¶But wherefore doe you droope? why looke you sad?
¶Be great in act, as you haue beene in thought:
2215Gouerne the motion of a kinglye eye:
¶Threaten the threatner,_and out-face the brow
¶Of bragging horror: So shall inferior eyes
¶That borrow their behauiours from the great,
2220Grow great by your example, and put on
¶Away, and glister like the god of warre
¶When he intendeth to become the field:
¶And fright him there? and make him tremble there?
¶And grapple with him ere he come so nye.
2230Iohn. The Legat of the Pope hath beene with mee,
¶And I haue made a happy peace with him,
¶Led by the Dolphin.
¶Bast. Oh inglorious league:
2235Shall we vpon the footing of our land,
¶A cockred-silken wanton braue our fields,
¶Mocking the ayre with colours idlely spred,
¶And finde no checke? Let vs my Liege to Armes:
¶Perchance the Cardinall cannot make your peace;
¶Bast. Away then with good courage: yet I know
¶Our Partie may well meet a prowder foe.
Exeunt.
¶
Scœna Secunda.
2250
Enter (in Armes) Dolphin, Salisbury, Meloone, Pem-
¶_broke, Bigot, Souldiers.
¶And keepe it safe for our remembrance:
2255That hauing our faire order written downe,
¶May know wherefore we tooke the Sacrament,
¶And keepe our faithes firme and inuiolable.
2260And Noble Dolphin, albeit we sweare
¶A voluntary zeale, and an vn-urg'd Faith
¶To your proceedings: yet beleeue me Prince,
2265And heale the inueterate Canker of one wound,
¶By making many: Oh it grieues my soule,
¶To be a widdow-maker: oh, and there
¶Where honourable rescue, and defence
2270Cries out vpon the name of Salisbury.
¶But such is the infection of the time,
¶That for the health and Physicke of our right,
¶We cannot deale but with the very hand
2275And is't not pitty, (oh my grieued friends)
¶Vpon her gentle bosom, and fill vp
2280Her Enemies rankes? I must withdraw, and weepe
¶To grace the Gentry of a Land remote,
¶And follow vnacquainted colours heere:
¶What heere? O Nation that thou couldst remoue,
2285That Neptunes Armes who clippeth thee about,
¶Would beare thee from the knowledge of thy selfe,
¶And cripple thee vnto a Pagan shore,
¶The bloud of malice, in a vaine of league,
¶Doth make an earth-quake of Nobility:
¶Oh, what a noble combat hast fought
¶Let me wipe off this honourable dewe,
¶My heart hath melted at a Ladies teares,
¶Being an ordinary Inundation:
¶Startles mine eyes, and makes me more amaz'd
¶Then had I seene the vaultie top of heauen
¶Figur'd quite ore with burning Meteors.
2305Lift vp thy brow (renowned Salisburie)
¶And with a great heart heaue away this storme:
¶That neuer saw the giant-world enrag'd,
¶Nor met with Fortune, other then at feasts,
2315
Enter Pandulpho.
¶And euen there, methinkes an Angell spake,
¶Looke where the holy Legate comes apace,
¶To giue vs warrant from the hand of heauen,
¶And on our actions set the name of right
2320With holy breath.
¶Pand. Haile noble Prince of France:
¶The next is this: King Iohn hath reconcil'd
2325The great Metropolis and Sea of Rome:
¶Therefore thy threatning Colours now winde vp,
¶That like a Lion fostered vp at hand,
¶It may lie gently at the foot of peace,
2330And be no further harmefull then in shewe.
¶I am too high-borne to be proportied
¶To be a secondary at controll,
2335To any Soueraigne State throughout the world.
¶Your breath first kindled the dead coale of warres,
¶And brought in matter that should feed this fire;
¶And now 'tis farre too huge to be blowne out
2340With that same weake winde, which enkindled it:
¶You taught me how to know the face of right,
¶Acquainted me with interest to this Land,
¶Yea, thrust this enterprize into my heart,
¶And come ye now to tell me Iohn hath made
¶I (by the honour of my marriage bed)
¶After yong Arthur, claime this Land for mine,
¶And now it is halfe conquer'd, must I backe,
¶Because that Iohn hath made his peace with Rome?
2350Am I Romes slaue? What penny hath Rome borne?
¶What men prouided? What munition sent
¶To vnder-prop this Action? Is't not I
¶That vnder-goe this charge? Who else but I,
¶And such as to my claime are liable,
¶Viue le Roy, as I haue bank'd their Townes?
¶Haue I not heere the best Cards for the game
¶To winne this easie match, plaid for a Crowne?
2360And shall I now giue ore the yeelded Set?
¶Till my attempt so much be glorified,
2365As to my ample hope was promised,
¶Before I drew this gallant head of warre,
¶Euen in the iawes of danger, and of death:
¶
Enter Bastard.
¶Bast. According to the faire-play of the world,
¶My holy Lord of Millane, from the King
2375I come to learne how you haue dealt for him:
¶And warrant limited vnto my tongue.
¶And will not temporize with my intreaties:
¶Bast. By all the bloud that euer fury breath'd,
¶For thus his Royaltie doth speake in me:
2385This apish and vnmannerly approach,
¶To whip this dwarfish warre, this Pigmy Armes
2390From out the circle of his Territories.
¶That hand which had the strength, euen at your dore,
¶To cudgell you, and make you take the hatch,
¶To diue like Buckets in concealed Welles,
¶To crowch in litter of your stable plankes,
2395To lye like pawnes, lock'd vp in chests and truncks,
¶Euen at the crying of your Nations crow,
¶Thinking this voyce an armed Englishman.
2400Shall that victorious hand be feebled heere,
¶That in your Chambers gaue you chasticement?
¶No: know the gallant Monarch is in Armes,
¶And like an Eagle, o're his ayerie towres,
2405And you degenerate, you ingrate Reuolts,
¶you bloudy Nero's, ripping vp the wombe
¶For your owne Ladies, and pale-visag'd Maides,
¶Like Amazons, come tripping after drummes:
2410Their thimbles into armed Gantlets change,
¶Their Needl's to Lances,_and their gentle hearts
¶To fierce and bloody inclination.
2415We hold our time too precious to be spent
¶with such a brabler.
¶Dol. We will attend to neyther:
2420Strike vp the drummes, and let the tongue of warre
¶Pleade for our interest, and our being heere.
¶An eccho with the clamor of thy drumme,
2425And euen at hand, a drumme is readie brac'd,
¶That shall reuerberate all, as lowd as thine.
¶Sound but another, and another shall
¶(As lowd as thine) rattle the Welkins eare,
¶And mocke the deepe mouth'd Thunder: for at hand
2430(Not trusting to this halting Legate heere,
¶Whom he hath vs'd rather for sport, then neede)
¶Is warlike Iohn: and in his fore-head sits
¶A bare-rib'd death, whose office is this day
2435Dol. Strike vp our drummes, to finde this danger out.
¶
Exeunt.
¶
Scæna Tertia.
¶
Alarums. Enter Iohn and Hubert.
2440Iohn. How goes the day with vs? oh tell me Hubert.
¶Lyes heauie on me: oh, my heart is sicke.
¶
Enter a Messenger.
¶And send him word by me, which way you go.
2450That was expected by the Dolphin heere,
¶Are wrack'd three nights ago on Goodwin sands.
¶This newes was brought to Richard but euen now,
2455And will not let me welcome this good newes.
Exeunt.
¶
Scena Quarta.
¶
Enter Salisbury, Pembroke,_and Bigot.
¶Sal. That misbegotten diuell Falconbridge,
¶
Enter Meloon wounded.
¶Mel. Lead me to the Reuolts of England heere.
¶Sal. When we were happie, we had other names.
¶Pem. It is the Count Meloone.
2470Sal. Wounded to death.
¶Vnthred the rude eye of Rebellion,
¶And welcome home againe discarded faith,
¶Seeke out King Iohn, and fall before his feete:
2475For if the French be Lords of this loud day,
¶He meanes to recompence the paines you take,
¶By cutting off your heads: Thus hath he sworne,
¶And I with him, and many moe with mee,
¶Vpon the Altar at S. Edmondsbury,
2480Euen on that Altar, where we swore to you
¶Deere Amity, and euerlasting loue.
¶Mel. Haue I not hideous death within my view,
¶Retaining but a quantity of life,
2485Which bleeds away, euen as a forme of waxe
¶What in the world should make me now deceiue,
2490That I must dye heere, and liue hence, by Truth?
¶I say againe, if Lewis do win the day,
¶Behold another day breake in the East:
¶But euen this night, whose blacke contagious breath
¶Of the old, feeble, and day-wearied Sunne,
¶Euen this ill night, your breathing shall expire,
¶Paying the fine of rated Treachery,
¶Euen with a treacherous fine of all your liues:
¶Commend me to one Hubert, with your King;
2505In lieu whereof, I pray you beare me hence
¶From forth the noise and rumour of the Field;
¶Where I may thinke the remnant of my thoughts
¶In peace: and part this bodie and my soule
¶With contemplation, and deuout desires.
¶But I do loue the fauour, and the forme
¶We will vntread the steps of damned flight,
¶And like a bated and retired Flood,
¶Stoope lowe within those bounds we haue ore-look'd,
¶And calmely run on in obedience
¶Euen to our Ocean, to our great King Iohn.
¶My arme shall giue thee helpe to beare thee hence,
2520For I do see the cruell pangs of death
¶Right in thine eye. Away, my friends, new flight,
Exeunt
¶
Scena Quinta.
¶
Enter Dolphin,_and his Traine.
¶In faint Retire: Oh brauely came we off,
2530After such bloody toile, we bid good night,
¶And woon'd our tott'ring colours clearly vp,
¶
Enter a Messenger.
¶Mes. Where is my Prince, the Dolphin?
2535Dol. Heere: what newes?
¶As this hath made me. Who was he that said
¶King Iohn did flie an houre or two before
¶The stumbling night did part our wearie powres?
¶To try the faire aduenture of to morrow.
Exeunt
¶
Scena Sexta.
2550
Enter Bastard and Hubert, seuerally.
¶Bast. A Friend. What art thou?
¶Hub. Of the part of England.
¶Hub. What's that to thee?
¶Why may not I demand of thine affaires,
¶As well as thou of mine?
¶Bast. Hubert, I thinke.
¶I will vpon all hazards well beleeue
¶Who art thou?
¶I come one way of the Plantagenets.
¶Hub. Vnkinde remembrance: thou, & endles night,
¶Haue done me shame: Braue Soldier, pardon me,
¶That any accent breaking from thy tongue,
2570Should scape the true acquaintance of mine eare.
¶_abroad?
¶Hub. Why heere walke I, in the black brow of night
¶To finde you out.
2575Bast. Brcefe then: and what's the newes?
¶Bast. Shew me the very wound of this ill newes,
¶I am no woman, Ile not swound at it.
¶To acquaint you with this euill,_that you might
¶The better arme you to the sodaine time,
¶Then if you had at leisure knowne of this.
¶Yet speakes, and peraduenture may recouer.
2590Hub. Why know you not? The Lords are all come
¶_backe,
¶And brought Prince Henry in their companie,
¶And they are all about his Maiestie.
2595Bast. With-hold thine indignation, mighty heauen,
¶And tempt vs not to beare aboue our power.
¶Ile tell thee Hubert, halfe my power this night
¶Away before: Conduct me to the king,
¶I doubt he will be dead,_or ere I come.
Exeunt
¶
Scena Septima.
¶
Enter Prince Henry, Salisburie, and Bigot.
2605Hen. It is too late, the life of all his blood
¶Is touch'd, corruptibly: and his pure braine
¶Doth by the idle Comments that it makes,
¶Fore-tell the ending of mortality.
2610
Enter Pembroke.
¶That being brought into the open ayre,
¶It would allay the burning qualitie
2615Hen. Let him be brought into the Orchard heere:
¶Pem. He is more patient
¶Then when you left him; euen now he sung.
2620In their continuance, will not feele themselues.
¶Death hauing praide vpon the outward parts
¶Against the winde, the which he prickes and wounds
¶I am the Symet to this pale faint Swan,
¶Who chaunts a dolefull hymne to his owne death,
¶And from the organ-pipe of frailety sings
¶Sal. Be of good comfort (Prince) for you are borne
¶
Iohn brought in.
¶It would not out at windowes, nor at doores,
¶That all my bowels crumble vp to dust:
¶I am a scribled forme drawne with a pen
2640Vpon a Parchment, and against this fire
¶Do I shrinke vp.
¶And none of you will bid the winter come
2645To thrust his ycie fingers in my maw;
¶Nor let my kingdomes Riuers take their course
¶Through my burn'd bosome: nor intreat the North
¶And comfort me with cold. I do not aske you much,
¶And so ingratefull, you deny me that.
¶That might releeue you.
2655Within me is a hell, and there the poyson
¶Is, as a fiend, confin'd to tyrannize,
¶On vnrepreeuable condemned blood.
¶
Enter Bastard.
¶The tackle of my heart, is crack'd and burnt,
¶Are turned to one thred, one little haire:
¶Which holds but till thy newes be vttered,
¶And module of confounded royalty.
¶Bast. The Dolphin is preparing hither-ward,
¶For in a night the best part of my powre,
¶As I vpon aduantage did remoue,
¶Were in the Washes all vnwarily,
¶Deuoured by the vnexpected flood.
¶My Liege, my Lord: but now a King, now thus.
¶When this was now a King, and now is clay?
¶To do the office for thee, of reuenge,
¶Now, now you Starres, that moue in your right spheres,
2685Where be your powres? Shew now your mended faiths,
¶And instantly returne with me againe.
¶Out of the weake doore of our fainting Land:
2690The Dolphine rages at our verie heeles.
¶The Cardinall Pandulph is within at rest,
¶Who halfe an houre since came from the Dolphin,
¶And brings from him such offers of our peace,
2695As we with honor and respect may take,
¶Sal. Nay, 'tis in a manner done already,
2700For many carriages hee hath dispatch'd
¶If you thinke meete, this afternoone will poast
¶Shall waite vpon your Fathers Funerall.
2710For so he will'd it.
¶The lineall state, and glorie of the Land,
2715I do bequeath my faithfull seruices
¶Sal. And the like tender of our loue wee make
2720And knowes not how to do it, but with teares.
¶Bast. Oh let vs pay the time: but needfull woe,
¶Since it hath beene before hand with our greefes.
¶This England neuer did, nor neuer shall
¶Lye at the proud foote of a Conqueror,
¶Now, these her Princes are come home againe,
¶Come the three corners of the world in Armes,
Exeunt.
