And grapple thee unto a pagan shore,
Where these two Christian armies might com-
bine
The blood of malice in a vein of league,
And not to spend it so unneighbourly!
Lew. A noble temper dost thou show in this;
And great affections wrestling in thy bosom 41
Doth make an earthquake of nobility.
O, what a noble combat hast thou fought
Between compulsion and a brave respect!
Let me wipe off this honourable dew,
That silverly doth progress on thy cheeks.
My heart hath melted at a lady's tears,
Being an ordinary inundation;
But this effusion of such manly drops,
This shower, blown up by tempest of the soul,
Startles mine eyes, and makes me more amaz'd
Than had I seen the vaulty top of heaven
Figur'd quite o'er with burning meteors.
Lift up thy brow, renowned Salisbury,
And with a great heart heave away the storm.
Commend these waters to those baby eyes
That never saw the giant world enrag'd,
Nor met with fortune other than at feasts,
Full of warm blood, of mirth, of gossiping.
Come, come; for thou shalt thrust thy hand as
deep
Into the purse of rich prosperity
As Lewis himself; so, nobles, shall you all,
That knit your sinews to the strength of mine.
Enter PANDULPH.
And even there, methinks, an angel spake.
Look, where the holy legate comes apace,
To give us warrant from the hand of Heaven,
And on our actions set the name of right
With holy breath.
Pand.
Hail, noble Prince of France!
The next is this, King John hath reconcil'd
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,
And tame the savage spirit of wild war,
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
back.
I am too high-born to be propertied,
To be a secondary at control,
Or useful serving-man and instrument
To any sovereign state throughout the world.
Your breath first kindled the dead coal of
I, by the honour of my marriage-bed,
After young Arthur, claim this land for mine;
And, now it is half-conquer'd, must I back
Because that John hath made his peace with
Am I Rome's slave? What penny hath Rome borne,
What men provided, what munition sent,
To underprop this action? Is 't not I
That undergo this charge? Who else but I, 100
And such as to my claim are liable,
Sweat in this business and maintain this war?
Have I not heard these islanders shout out
"Vive le roi!" as I have bank'd their towns?
Have I not here the best cards for the
game,
To win this easy match play'd for a crown?
And shall I now give o'er the yielded set?
No, on my soul, it never shall be said.
Pand. You look but on the outside of this work.
Lew. Outside or inside, I will not return Till my attempt so much be glorified As to my ample hope was promised Before I drew this gallant head of war, And cull'd these fiery spirits from the world, To outlook conquest and to win renown Even in the jaws of danger and of death.
What lusty trumpet thus doth summon us?
Enter the BASTARD, attended.
Bast. According to the fair play of the world,
Let me have audience. I am sent to speak,
My holy lord of Milan, from the King.
I come, to learn how you have dealt for him;
And, as you answer, I do know the scope
And warrant limited unto my tongue.
Pand. The Dauphin is too wilful-opposite, And will not temporize with my entreaties. 125 He flatly says he 'll not lay down his arms.
Bast. By all the blood that ever fury breath'd,
The youth says well. Now hear our English King,
For thus his royalty doth speak in me.
He is prepar'd, and reason too he should.
This apish and unmannerly approach,
This harness'd masque and unadvised revel,
This unhair'd sauciness and boyish troops,
The King doth smile at, and is well prepar'd
To whip this dwarfish war, these pigmy
From out the circle of his territories.
That hand which had the strength, even at
To cudgel you and make you take the hatch.
To dive like buckets in concealed wells,
To crouch in litter of your stable planks,
Is warlike John; and in his forehead sits
A bare-ribb'd Death, whose office is this day
To feast upon whole thousands of the French.
Lew. Strike up our drums, to find this dan-
ger out.
Bast. And thou shalt find it, Dauphin, do
not doubt.
[Exeunt. 180
SCENE III. [The field of battle.] Alarums. Enter KING JOHN and HUBERT.
K. John. How goes the day with us? O, tell me, Hubert.
Hub. Badly, I fear. How fares your Majesty?
K. John. This fever, that hath troubled me so long,
Lies heavy on me. O, my heart is sick!
Enter a MESSENGER.
SCENE IV. [Another part of the field.] Enter SALISBURY, PEMBROKE, and BIGOT. Sal. I did not think the King so stor'd with friends.
Pem. Up once again! Put spirit in the French.
If they miscarry, we miscarry too.
Sal. That misbegotten devil, Faulconbridge, In spite of spite, alone upholds the day. Pem. They say King John sore sick hath left the field.
Enter MELUN, wounded.
Mel. Lead me to the revolts of England here.
Sal. When we were happy we had other
Sal. May this be possible? May this be true?
Mel. Have I not hideous death within my view,
Retaining but a quantity of life,
Which bleeds away, even as a form of wax
Resolveth from his figure 'gainst the fire?
What in the world should make me now de-
Since I must lose the use of all deceit ?
Why should I then be false, since it is true
That I must die here and live hence by truth?
I say again, if Lewis do win the day,
He is forsworn if e'er those eyes of yours
Behold another day break in the east;
But even this night, whose black contagious breath
Already smokes about the burning crest
Of the old, feeble, and day-wearied sun,
Even this ill night, your breathing shall ex-
pire,
Paying the fine of rated treachery
Even with a treacherous fine of all your lives,
If Lewis by your assistance win the day.
Commend me to one Hubert with your king. 40
The love of him, and this respect besides,
For that my grandsire was an Englishman,
Awakes my conscience to confess all this;
In lieu whereof, I pray you, bear me hence
From forth the noise and rumour of the field, 4
Where I may think the remnant of my thoughts
In peace, and part this body and my soul
With contemplation and devout desires.
Sal. We do believe thee; and beshrew my soul
But I do love the favour and the form
Of this most fair occasion, by the which
We will untread the steps of damned flight,
And like a bated and retired flood,
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