This shall be so; and on the other hill
we will tell the rest to wait. We're fighting for God and our rights!
Exeunt
Here, after excursions, enter the HERALD OF FRANCE,with trumpets, to the gates
FRENCH HERALD.
You men of Angiers, open wide your gates
And let young Arthur, Duke of Britaine, in,
Who by the hand of France this day hath made
Much work for tears in many an English mother,
Whose sons lie scattered on the bleeding ground;
Many a widow's husband grovelling lies,
Coldly embracing the discoloured earth;
And victory with little loss doth play
Upon the dancing banners of the French,
Who are at hand, triumphantly displayed,
To enter conquerors, and to proclaim
Arthur of Britaine England's King and yours.
You men of Angiers, open your gates wide
and let young Arthur, Duke of Brittany, in,
who through the efforts of the French king has today
made many English mothers shed many tears,
as their sons are lying scattered on the bloody ground;
the husbands of many widows are lying grovelling
cold upon the bloody earth;
and victory with little damage has lighted
upon the dancing banners of the French,
who are close by, paraded in triumphant,
come to enter as conquerors, and to proclaim
Arthur of Brittany as the King of England and of you.
Enter ENGLISH HERALD, with trumpet
ENGLISH HERALD.
Rejoice, you men of Angiers, ring your bells:
King John, your king and England's, doth approach,
Commander of this hot malicious day.
Their armours that march'd hence so silver-bright
Hither return all gilt with Frenchmen's blood.
There stuck no plume in any English crest
That is removed by a staff of France;
Our colours do return in those same hands
That did display them when we first march'd forth;
And like a jolly troop of huntsmen come
Our lusty English, all with purpled hands,
Dy'd in the dying slaughter of their foes.
Open your gates and give the victors way.
Rejoice, you men of Angiers, ring your bells:
King John, King of England and you, is coming,
the victor of this bloody battle.
The armour in which they marched away so shining silver
is coming back covered with the blood of Frenchmen.
No feather in any English helmet
has been removed by any French soldier;
our banners are coming back in the same hands
who carried them away from here;
our lusty Englishmen are coming like a
band of jolly huntsmen, with purple hands,
dyed with the blood of their enemies.
Open your gates and let the victors in.
CITIZEN.
Heralds, from off our tow'rs we might behold
From first to last the onset and retire
Of both your armies, whose equality
By our best eyes cannot be censured.
Blood hath bought blood, and blows have answer'd blows;
Strength match'd with strength, and power confronted power;
Both are alike, and both alike we like.
One must prove greatest. While they weigh so even,
We hold our town for neither, yet for both.
Heralds, from our towers we could see
from beginning to end the attack and retreat
of both your armies, and our sharpest eyed men
could not see any difference between them.
Blood has been paid for with blood, and blows have answered blows;
strength was matched with strength, and power attacked power;
you are both alike, and we like you both the same.
One of you must show yourself as greatest. While you are so evenly matched,
our town shall not acknowledge either, while acknowledging both.
Enter the two KINGS, with their powers, at several doors
KING JOHN.
France, hast thou yet more blood to cast away?
Say, shall the current of our right run on?
Whose passage, vex'd with thy impediment,
Shall leave his native channel and o'erswell
With course disturb'd even thy confining shores,
Unless thou let his silver water keep
A peaceful progress to the ocean.
France, have you any more blood to throw away?
Tell us, will the stream of our rights keep running?
If you keep blocking its passage it will
leave its natural course and flood
right over your lands,
unless you let its silver water carry on
its peaceful way to the ocean.
KING PHILIP.
England, thou hast not sav'd one drop of blood
In this hot trial more than we of France;
Rather, lost more. And by this hand I swear,
That sways the earth this climate overlooks,
Before we will lay down our just-borne arms,
We'll put thee down, 'gainst whom these arms we bear,
Or add a royal number to the dead,
Gracing the scroll that tells of this war's loss
With slaughter coupled to the name of kings.
England, you have not spilled one drop less of blood
in this battle than we of France have;
in fact, you have lost more. And I swear by this hand,
that rules over the earth under the sky,
that before we lay down our justified weapons
we shall defeat you, whom we carry them against,
or add a royal person to the list of dead,
gracing the scroll of those who fail in this war
by adding the name of Kings to the slaughter.
BASTARD.
Ha, majesty! how high thy glory tow'rs
When the rich blood of kings is set on fire!
O, now doth Death line his dead chaps with steel;
The swords of soldiers are his teeth, his fangs;
And now he feasts, mousing the flesh of men,
In undetermin'd differences of kings.
Why stand these royal fronts amazed thus?
Cry 'havoc!' kings; back to the stained field,
You equal potents, fiery kindled spirits!
Then let confusion of one part confirm
The other's peace. Till then, blows, blood, and death!
Ha, Majesty! How great your glory becomes
when the rich blood of kings is stirred up!
Now Death has covered his dead cheeks with steel;
the soldiers' swords are his teeth, his fangs;
and now he is feasting, tearing up the flesh of men,
not discriminating between Kings and others.
Why are your royal faces looking so confused?
Let out the war cry, kings; go back to the bloody field,
you equal forces, fiery burning spirits!
So let the defeat of one confirm
the rule of the other. Until then, let's have blows, blood and death!
KING JOHN.
Whose party do the townsmen yet admit?
Whose side are the townsmen now on?
KING PHILIP.
Speak, citizens, for England; who's your king?
Speak for England, citizens; who is your king?
CITIZEN.
The King of England, when we know the King.
The King of England, when we know who it is.
KING PHILIP.
Know him in us that here hold up his right.
You can see him in me, upholding
his rights.
KING JOHN.
In us that are our own great deputy
And bear possession of our person here,
Lord of our presence, Angiers, and of you.
In me who is upholding his own rights
and has brought himself here to you,
Lord of himself, Angiers, and of you.
CITIZEN.
A greater pow'r than we denies all this;
And till it be undoubted, we do lock
Our former scruple in our strong-barr'd gates;
King'd of our fears, until our fears, resolv'd,
Be by some certain king purg'd and depos'd.
A greater power than us denies all this;
until the question is settled, we shall keep
our doubts behind our strongly barred gates;
we shall be ruled by our fears until they are removed,
overthrown by some true king.
BASTARD.
By heaven, these scroyles of Angiers flout you, kings,
And stand securely on their battlements
As in a theatre, whence they gape and point
At your industrious scenes and acts of death.
Your royal presences be rul'd by me:
Do like the mutines of Jerusalem,
Be friends awhile, and both conjointly bend
Your sharpest deeds of malice on this town.
By east and west let France and England mount
Their battering cannon, charged to the mouths,
Till their soul-fearing clamours have brawl'd down
The flinty ribs of this contemptuous city.
I'd play incessantly upon these jades,
Even till unfenced desolation
Leave them as naked as the vulgar air.
That done, dissever your united strengths
And part your mingled colours once again,
Turn face to face and bloody point to point;
Then in a moment Fortune shall cull forth
Out of one side her happy minion,
To whom in favour she shall give the day,
And kiss him with a glorious victory.
How like you this wild counsel, mighty states?
Smacks it not something of the policy?
By heaven, these scoundrels of Angiers are mocking you, Kings,
standing as safely on their battlements as
they would in a theatre, from where they gape and point
at all your hard work and your deaths.
Let your royal persons be ruled by me:
be like the mutineers in Jerusalem,
become allies for a while and both together
launch your hardest attacks against this town.
Let France and England from the East and West
aim their battering cannon, fully charged,
until their terrifying rage has smashed down
the stone walls of this arrogant city:
I would smash away at these poor creatures
until they are left exposed to the
open air, with no protection.
Once you've done that, untangle your forces,
and separate your joint flags once again;
face each other again, bloody point to point;
then, in that instant, Fortune will choose
whom she favours out of the two sides,
and she shall allow him to triumph,
and reward him with a glorious victory.
What do you think of this daring advice, great Kings?
Don't you think it sounds cunning?
KING JOHN.
Now, by the sky that hangs above our heads,
I like it well. France, shall we knit our pow'rs
And lay this Angiers even with the ground;
Then after fight who shall be king of it?
Now, I swear by the heavens above,
I like it. France, shall we join forces
to raze this Angiers to the ground,
and then afterwards fight for who shall be king of it?
BASTARD.
An if thou hast the mettle of a king,
Being wrong'd as we are by this peevish town,
Turn thou the mouth of thy artillery,
As we will ours, against these saucy walls;
And when that we have dash'd them to the ground,
Why then defy each other, and pell-mell
Make work upon ourselves, for heaven or hell.
If you have the spirit of the King,
having been insulted as we have been by this petulant town,
turn the muzzles of your artillery,
as we will, against their cheeky walls;
and when we have smashed them to the ground,
well then we will fight each other, and chaotically
attack ourselves, for better or for worse.
KING PHILIP.
Let it be so. Say, where will you assault?
I agree. Tell me where you will attack?
KING JOHN.
We from the west will send destruction
Into this city's bosom.
I shall send my forces into the heart of the city
from the West.
AUSTRIA.
I from the north.
I shall attack from the North.
KING PHILIP.
Our thunder from the south
Shall rain their drift of bullets on this town.
We shall rain a storm of bullets on this town
from the South.
BASTARD.
[Aside]O prudent discipline! From north to south,
Austria and France shoot in each other's mouth.
I'll stir them to it.-Come, away, away!
A clever plan! From North to South
Austria and France will be shooting at each other.
I'll encourage them to do it.–Come, let's go, let's go!
CITIZEN.
Hear us, great kings: vouchsafe awhile to stay,
And I shall show you peace and fair-fac'd league;
Win you this city without stroke or wound;
Rescue those breathing lives to die in beds
That here come sacrifices for the field.
Persever not, but hear me, mighty kings.
Hear us, great Kings: agree to wait a while,
and I will show you peace and sweet agreement;
you can win this city without any losses;
you can let those who have come here to sacrifice themselves
on the battlefield die in their beds.
Do not carry on, but listen to me, mighty kings.
KING JOHN.
Speak on with favour; we are bent to hear.
You may keep talking; we are listening.
CITIZEN.
That daughter there of Spain, the Lady Blanch,
Is niece to England; look upon the years
Of Lewis the Dauphin and that lovely maid.
If lusty love should go in quest of beauty,
Where should he find it fairer than in Blanch?
If zealous love should go in search of virtue,
Where should he find it purer than in Blanch?
If love ambitious sought a match of birth,
Whose veins bound richer blood than Lady Blanch?
Such as she is, in beauty, virtue, birth,
Is the young Dauphin every way complete-
If not complete of, say he is not she;
And she again wants nothing, to name want,
If want it be not that she is not he.
He is the half part of a blessed man,
Left to be finished by such as she;
And she a fair divided excellence,
Whose fulness of perfection lies in him.
O, two such silver currents, when they join,
Do glorify the banks that bound them in;
And two such shores to two such streams made one,
Two such controlling bounds, shall you be, Kings,
To these tw
o princes, if you marry them.
This union shall do more than battery can
To our fast-closed gates; for at this match
With swifter spleen than powder can enforce,
The mouth of passage shall we fling wide ope
And give you entrance; but 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.
That daughter of Spain there, the Lady Blanche,
is close to King John: look at the age
of the Dauphin Louis and that lovely girl:
if a strong young love should go in search of beauty,
where would he find it better than in her?
If pious love goes in search of goodness,
where would he find itmore pure than in Blanche?
If ambitious love sought a good match,
who has nobler blood in their veins than Lady Blanche?
Everything she is, in beauty, goodness and nobility,
is matched by the young Dauphin:
if he doesn't match it, say he is not her,
and if she is lacking anything he has
then you can say that she is not him:
he is half a part of a blessed man,
waiting to be completed by someone like her;
and she is half of an excellent woman,
who can be completed by him.
Two such silver streams, when they join,
make the country they run through glorious;
and with two such shores, two such streams running into one,
you will be two controlling banks to them, kings,
if you join them together in marriage.
This marriage would be more likely to open our
solidly closed gates than any artillery; if it happened
we would fling our gates wide open faster
than any assault could hope to do,
and let you in: but without the marriage
the raging sea is not half as deaf,
lions not half as confident, mountains and rocks
more still, no, death himself
is not so determined as he seeks out mortals
The Complete Works of William Shakespeare In Plain and Simple English (Translated) Page 5