And I shall show you peace, and fair-faced league; K. John. Speak on, with favour; we are bent to hear. Cit. That daughter there of Spain, the Lady Blanch, Is near to England: Look upon the years Of Lewis the Dauphin, and that lovely maid. Two such controlling bounds shall you be, kings, Without this match, The sea enraged is not half so deaf, Lions more confident, mountains and rocks More free from motion; no, not death himself In mortal fury half so peremptory, As we to keep this city. Faul. Here's a stay, That shakes the rotten carcass of old death Out of his rags! Here's a large mouth, indeed, 'That spits forth death, and mountains, rocks, and seas: Talks as familiarly of roaring lions, As maids of thirteen do of puppy-dogs! What cannoneer begot this lusty blood? Zounds! I was never so bethump'd with words This friendly treaty of our threaten'd town? K. Phil. What say'st thou, boy? look in the lady's face. Lew. I do, my lord: and in her eye I find A wonder, or a wondrous miracle, The shadow of myself, Drawn in the flattering table of her eye. [KING JOHN, KING PHILIP, LEWIS, and Faul. Drawn in the flattering table of her eye! That hang'd, and drawn, and quarter'd, there should be, K. John. What say these young ones? What say you, my niece? Blan. That she is bound in honour still to do What you in wisdom still vouchsafe to say. K. John. Speak then, Prince Dauphin; can you love this lady? Lew. Nay, ask me if I can refrain from love; For I do love her most unfeignedly. K. John. Philip of France, if thou be pleased withal, Command thy son and daughter to join hands. K. Phil. It likes us well:-Young Princes, close your hands. Now, Citizens of Angiers, ope your gates, [Exeunt CITIZENS from the ramparts. Is not the lady Constance in this troop? Lew. She is sad and passionate, at your highness's tent. K. Phil. Brother of England, how may we content This widow lady? [The CITIZENS open the gates, and enter, to present the Keys of the Town. K. John. We will heal up all : For we'll create young Arthur Duke of Bretagne, To our solemnity. [Exit SALISBURY, L. Go we, as well as haste will suffer us, To this unlook'd-for, unprepared pomp. Flourish of Drums and Trumpets.-Exeunt in at Faul. Mad world! mad kings! mad composition ! And France, (whose armour conscience buckled on, To a most base and vile-concludea peace.— But for because he hath not woo'd me yet: END OF ACT II. [Exit, L ACT III. SCENE I.-France.-The French King's Tent near R. U. E. Enter ARTHUR, CONSTANCE, and SALISBURY, through Con. (c.) Gone to be married! gone to swear a peace! Sal. (R. c.) As true. as, I believe, you think them That gave you cause to prove my saying true. C Teach thou this sorrow how to make me die. Arth. (L. c.) I do beseech you, madam, be content. Con. If thou, that bid'st me be content, wert grim, ugly, Patch'd with foul moles, and eye-offending marks, Sal. Pardon me, madam, I may not go without you to the Kings. Con. Thou may'st, thou shalt, I will not go with thee: I will instruct my sorrows to be proud; For grief is proud, and makes his owner stout. [Throws herself on the ground. Flourish of Trumpets and Drums. Enter KING JOHN, KING PHILIP, LEWIS, BLANCH, AUSTRIA, ELINOR, FAULCONBRIDGE, CHATILLON, PEMBROKE, ESSEX, HUBERT, ENGLISH HERALD, FRENCH HERALD, ENGLISH and FRENCH GENTLEMEN, and GUARDS, through the Tent. K. Phil. [Attendants, R.] 'Tis true, fair daughter; and this blessed day Ever in France shall be kept festival; The yearly course, that brings this day about, Con. [Rising.] A wicked day, and not a holy day !— What hath this day deserved? what hath it done, That it in golden letters should be set, Among the high tides, in the kalendar? Nay, rather, turn this day out of the week; This day of shame, oppression, perjury: This day, all things begun come to ill end; Yea, faith itself to hollow falsehood change! K. Phil. By Heaven, lady, you shall have no cause To curse the fair proceedings of this day: Have I not pawn'd to you my majesty ? Con. You have beguiled me with a counterfeit, Resembling majesty; which, being touch'd, and tried, Proves valueless: You are forsworn, forsworn; You came in arms to spill mine enemies' blood, But now in arms you strengthen it with yours: The grappling vigour and rough frown of war Is cold in amity and painted peace, : And our oppression hath made up this league: [KING PHILIP sits. Aust. (R.) Lady Constance, peace. Con, War! war! no peace! peace is to me a war. O Lymoges! O Austria thou dost shame That bloody spoil. Thou slave, thou wretch, thou coward : Thou little valiant, great in villany! Thou ever strong upon the stronger side! To teach thee safety! Thou cold-blooded slave, Hast thou not spoke like thunder on my side? to me! |