The Oxford Shakespeare: The Complete Works

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The Oxford Shakespeare: The Complete Works Page 151

by William Shakespeare


  Show boldness and aspiring confidence.

  What, shall they seek the lion in his den

  And fright him there, and make him tremble there?

  O, let it not be said I Forage, and run

  To meet displeasure farther from the doors,

  And grapple with him ere he come so nigh.

  KING JOHN

  The legate of the Pope hath been with me,

  And I have made a happy peace with him,

  And he hath promised to dismiss the powers

  Led by the Dauphin.

  BASTARD O inglorious league!

  Shall we, upon the footing of our land,

  Send fair-play orders, and make compromise,

  Insinuation, parley, and base truce

  To arms invasive? Shall a beardless boy,

  A cockered silken wanton, brave our fields

  And flesh his spirit in a warlike soil,

  Mocking the air with colours idly spread,

  And find no check? Let us, my liege, to arms!

  Perchance the Cardinal cannot make your peace,

  Or if he do, let it at least be said

  They saw we had a purpose of defence.

  KING JOHN

  Have thou the ordering of this present time.

  BASTARD

  Away, then, with good courage! ⌈Aside⌉Yet I know

  Our party may well meet a prouder foe. Exeunt

  5.2 Enter, ⌈marching⌉ in arms, Louis the Dauphin, the Earl off Salisbury, Count Melun, the Earl of Pembroke, and Lord Bigot, with soldiers

  LOUIS THE DAUPHIN

  My Lord Melun, let this be copied out,

  And keep it safe for our remembrance.

  Return the precedent to these lords again,

  That having our fair order written down,

  Both they and we, perusing o’er these notes,

  May know wherefore we took the sacrament

  And keep our faiths firm and inviolable.

  SALISBURY

  Upon our sides it never shall be broken.

  And, noble Dauphin, albeit we swear

  A voluntary zealand an unurgéd faith

  To your proceedings, yet believe me, Prince,

  I am not glad that such a sore of time

  Should seek a plaster by contemned revolt,

  And heal the inveterate canker of one wound

  By making many. O,it grieves my soul

  That I must draw this metal from my side

  To be a widow-maker! O, and there

  Where honourable rescue and defence

  Cries out upon the name of Salisbury I

  But such is the infection of the time,

  That for the health and physic of our right,

  We cannot deal but with the very hand

  Of stern injustice and confused wrong.

  And is’t not pity, O my grieved friends,

  That we the sons and children of this isle

  Was born to see so sad an hour as this,

  Wherein we step after a stranger, march

  Upon her gentle bosom, and fill up

  Her enemies’ ranks? I must withdraw and weep

  Upon the spot of this enforced cause—

  To grace the gentry of a land remote,

  And follow unacquainted colours here.

  What, here? O nation, that thou couldst remove;

  That Neptune’s arms who clippeth thee about

  Would bear thee from the knowledge of thyself

  And gripple thee unto a pagan shore,

  Where these two Christian armies might combine

  The blood of malice in a vein of league,

  And not to spend it so unneighbourly.

  LOUIS THE DAUPHIN

  A noble temper dost thou show in this,

  And great affections, wrestling in thy bosom,

  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 amazed

  Than had I seen the vaulty top of heaven

  Figured quite o’er with burning meteors.

  Lift up thy brow, renowned Salisbury,

  And with a great heart heave away this storm; 55

  Commend these waters to those baby eyes

  That never saw the giant world enraged,

  Nor met with Fortune other than at feasts,

  Full warm of blood, of mirth, of gossiping.

  Come, come, for thou shalt thrust thy hand as deep

  Into the purse of rich prosperity

  As Louis himself. So, nobles, shall you all

  That knit your sinews to the strength of mine.⌈A trumpet sounds⌉

  And even there methinks an angel spake!Enter Cardinal Pandolf

  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.

  PANDOLF Hail, noble prince of France!

  The next is this. King John hath reconciled

  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 threat’ning 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.

  LOUIS THE DAUPHIN

  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 wars

  Between this chastised kingdom and myself,

  And brought in matter that should feed this fire;

  And now ‘tis far too huge to be blown out

  With that same weak wind which enkindled it.

  You taught me how to know the face of right,

  Acquainted me with interest to this land,

  Yea, thrust this enterprise into my heart;

  And come ye 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 conquered, must I back

  Because that John hath made his peace with Rome?

  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,

  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 banked their towns?

  Have I not here the best cards for the game, 105

  To win this easy match played for a crown?

  And shall I now give o’er the yielded set?

  No, no, on my soul, it never shall be said.

  PANDOLF

  You look but on the outside of this work.

  LOUIS THE DAUPHIN

  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 culled these fiery spirits from the world

  To outlook conquest and to win renown
<
br />   Even in the jaws of danger and of death.A trumpet sounds

  What lusty trumpet thus doth summon us?

  Enter the Bastard

  BASTARD

  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.

  PANDOLF

  The Dauphin is too wilful-opposite,

  And will not temporize with my entreaties.

  He flatly says he’ll not lay down his arms.

  BASTARD

  By all the blood that ever fury breathed,

  The youth says well. Now hear our English king,

  For thus his royalty doth speak in me.

  He is prepared, and reason too he should.

  This apish and unmannerly approach,

  This harnessed masque and unadvised revel,

  This unhaired sauciness and boyish troops,

  The King doth smile at, and is well prepared

  To whip this dwarfish war, these pigmy arms, 135

  From out the circle of his territories.

  That hand which had the strength even 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 stable planks,

  To lie like pawns locked up in chests and trunks,

  To hug with swine, to seek sweet safety out

  In vaults and prisons, and to thrill and shake

  Even at the crying of your 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 eyrie towers

  To souse annoyance that comes near his nest.

  (To the English lords)

  And you degenerate, you ingrate revolts,

  You bloody Neros, ripping up the womb

  Of your dear mother England, blush for shame;

  For your own ladies and pale-visaged maids

  Like Amazons come tripping after drums;

  Their thimbles into armed gauntlets change,

  Their needles to lances, and their gentle hearts

  To fierce and bloody inclination.

  LOUIS THE DAUPHIN

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

  We grant thou canst outscold us. Fare thee well: 160

  We hold our time too precious to be spent

  With such a brabbler.

  PANDOLF Give me leave to speak.

  BASTARD

  No, I will speak.

  LouisTHE DAUPHIN We will attend to neither.—

  Strike up the drums, and let the tongue of war

  Plead for our interest and our being here.

  BASTARD

  Indeed your drums, being beaten, will cry out;

  And so shall you, being beaten. Do but start

  An echo with the clamour of thy drum,

  And even at hand a drum is ready braced

  That shall reverberate all as loud as thine.

  Sound but another, and another shall

  As loud as thine rattle the welkin’s ear,

  And mock the deep-mouthed thunder; for at hand,

  Not trusting to this halting legate here,

  Whom he hath used rather for sport than need,

  Is warlike John; and in his forehead sits

  A bare-ribbed Death, whose office is this day

  To feast upon whole thousands of the French.

  LOUIS THE DAUPHIN

  Strike up our drums to find this danger out.

  BASTARD

  And thou shalt find it, Dauphin, do not doubt.

  ⌈Drums beat.⌉ Exeunt the Bastard Fat onedoor⌉, all the rest, ⌈marching, at another door⌉

  5.3 Alarum. Enter King John Fat one door and Hubert ⌈at another door⌉

  KING JOHN

  How goes the day with us? O, tell me, Hubert.

  HUBERT

  Badly, I fear. How fares your majesty?

  KING JOHN

  This fever that hath troubled me so long

  Lies heavy on me. O, my heart is sick!

  Enter a Messenger

  MESSENGER

  My lord, your valiant kinsman Falconbridge

  Desires your majesty to leave the field,

  And send him word by me which way you go.

  KING JOHN

  Tell him toward Swineshead, to the abbey there.

  MESSENGER

  Be of good comfort, for the great supply

  That was expected by the Dauphin here

  Are wrecked three nights ago on Goodwin Sands.

  This news was brought to Richard, but even now

  The French fight coldly and retire themselves.

  KING JOHN

  Ay me, this tyrant fever burns me up,

  And will not let me welcome this good news.

  Set on toward Swineshead. To my litter straight;

  Weakness possesseth me, and I am faint. Exeunt

  5.4 ⌈Alarum.⌉Enter the Earls of Salisbury and Pembroke, and Lord Bigot

  SALISBURY

  I did not think the King so stored with friends.

  PEMBROKE

  Up once again; put spirit in the French.

  If they miscarry, we miscarry too.

  SALISBURY

  That misbegotten devil Falconbridge,

  In spite of spite, alone upholds the day.

  PEMBROKE

  They say King John, sore sick, hath left the field.

  Enter Count Melun, wounded, ⌈led by a soldier⌉

  MELUN

  Lead me to the revolts of England here.

  SALISBURY

  When we were happy, we had other names.

  PEMBROKE

  It is the Count Melun.

  SALISBURY Wounded to death.

  MELUN

  Fly, noble English, you are bought and sold.

  Unthread the rude eye of rebellion,

  And welcome home again discarded faith;

  Seek out King John and fall before his feet,

  For if the French be lords of this loud day

  He means to recompense the pains you take

  By cutting off your heads. Thus hath he sworn,

  And I with him, and many more with me,

  Upon the altar at Saint Edmundsbury,

  Even on that altar where we swore to you

  Dear amity and everlasting love.

  SALISBURY

  May this be possible? May this be true?

  MELUN

  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 deceive,

  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 Louis do win the day,

  He is forsworn if e’er those eyes of yours

  Behold another daybreak in the east;

  But even this night, whose black contagious breath

  Already smokes about the burning cresset

  Of the old, feeble, and day-wearied sun,

  Even this ill night your breathing shall expire,

  Paying the fine of rated treachery

  Even with a treacherous fine of all your lives,

  If Louis by your assistance win the day.

  Commend me to one Hubert with your king.

  The love of him, and this respect besides,

  For that my grandsire was an Englishman,

  Awakes my consci
ence to confess all this;

  In lieu whereof, I pray you bear me hence

  From forth the noise and rumour of the field,

  Where I may think the remnant of my thoughts

  In peace, and part this body and my soul

  With contemplation and devout desires.

  SALISBURY

  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,

  Leaving our rankness and irregular course,

  Stoop low within those bounds we have o’erlooked,

  And calmly run on in obedience

  Even to our ocean, to our great King John.

  My arm shall give thee help to bear thee hence,

  For I do see the cruel pangs of death

  Right in thine eye.—Away,my friends! New flight,

  And happy newness that intends old right. Exeunt

  5.5 ⌈Alarum,. retreat.⌉ Enter Louis the Dauphin, and his train

  LOUIS THE DAUPHIN

  The sun of heaven, methought, was loath to set,

  But stayed and made the western welkin blush,

  When English measured backward their own ground

  In faint retire. O, bravely came we off,

  When with a volley of our needless shot,

  After such bloody toil, we bid good night,

  And wound our tatt’ring colours clearly up,

  Last in the field and almost lords of it.

  Enter a Messenger

  MESSENGER

  Where is my prince the Dauphin?

  LOUIS THE DAUPHIN Here. What news?

  MESSENGER

  The Count Melun is slain; the English lords

  By his persuasion are again fall’n off;

  And your supply which you have wished so long

  Are cast away and sunk on Goodwin Sands.

  LOUIS THE DAUPHIN

  Ah, foul shrewd news! Beshrew thy very heart

  I did not think to be so sad tonight

  As this hath made me. Who was he that said

  King John did fly an hour or two before

  The stumbling night did part our weary powers?

  MESSENGER

  Whoever spoke it, it is true, my lord.

  LOUIS THE DAUPHIN

  Well, keep good quarter and good care tonight.

  The day shall not be up so soon as I,

  To try the fair adventure of tomorrow. Exeunt

  5.6 Enter the Bastard ⌈With a light⌉and Hubert ⌈With a pistol⌉, severally

 

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