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Upon the dancing banner, of the French,
Who are at hand triumphantly display'd,
To enter conquerors, and to proclaim
Arthur of Bretagne, England's King, and yours,

Enter English Herald with Trumpets.

9

E. Her. Rejoice, ye 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 fo filver-bright,
Hither return all gilt in Frenchmens' blood.
There stuck no plume in any English Creft,
That is removed by a staff of France.
Our Colours do return in thofe fame hands,
That did display them, when we first march'd forth
And, like a jolly troop of huntfmen, 'come
Our lufty English, all with purpled hands;
Dy'd in the dying flaughter of their foes.
Open your gates, and give the victors way.

2

Cit. Heralds, from off our tow'rs we might behold,
From first to laft, the Onfet and Retire
Of both your armies, whofe equality
By our beft eyes cannot be cenfured;

Blood hath bought blood, and blows have anfwer'd
blow;

Strength match'd with strength, and power confronted

power.

Rejoice, ye men of Angiers, The English herald falls fomewhat below his antagonist. Silver armour gilt with blood, is a poor image. Yet our authour has it again in Macbeth.

Here lay Duncan, His filver jkin lac'd with his golden blood.

And, like a jolly troop of

huntsmen,] It was, I think, one of the favage practices of the chafe, for all to ftain their hands in the blood of the deer, as a trophy.

2 Heralds, from off, &c.. -] These three fpeeches feem to have been laboured. The citi-, zen's is the beft; yet both alike we like, is a poor gingle.

Both

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Both are alike, and both alike we like;

One must prove greateft. While they weigh fo even, We hold our town for neither; yet for both.

SCENE V.

Enter the two Kings with their Powers, at feveral Doors.

K. John. France, haft thou yet more blood to caft away?

Say, fhall the current of our Right run on?
Whose paffage, vext with thy impediment,
Shall leave his native channel, and o'er-fwell
With course disturb'd ev'n thy confining fhores;
Unless thou let his filver water keep

A peaceful progrefs to the ocean.

K. Philip. England, thou hast not fav'd one drop of

blood

In this hot tryal, more than we of France;
Rather loft more. And by this hand I fwear,
That fways the earth this climate overlooks,
Before we will lay by our juft-borne arms,
We'll put thee down, 'gainst whom thefe arms we bear;
Or add a royal number to the dead;

Gracing the fcroul, that tells of this war's lofs,
With flaughter coupled to the name of Kings.

Faulc. Ha! Majefty,-how high thy glory towers,
When the rich blood of Kings is set on fire!
Oh, now doth Death line his dead chaps with steel;
The fwords of foldiers are his teeth, his phangs;
And now he feafts, mouthing the flesh of men
In undetermin'd diff'rences of Kings.

Why ftand thefe royal Fronts amazed thus ?
Cry havock, Kings; back to the stained field,

3

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You equal Potents, fiery-kindled fpirits!
Then let Confufion of one part confirm

The other's peace; till then, blows, blood, and death:
K. John. Whofe party do the townsmen yet admit?
K. Philip. Speak, Citizens, for England, who's your
King?

Cit. The King of England, when we know the King? K. Philip. Know him in us, that here hold up his Right.

K. John. In us, that are our own great deputy, And bear poffeffion of our perfon here;

Lord of our prefence, Angiers, and of you.

4

Cit. A greater pow'r, than ye, denies all this; And till it be undoubted, we do lock

Our former fcruple in our ftròng-barr'd gates.
Kings are our fears, until our fears refolv'd

Be by fome certain King purg'd and depos'd.
Faulc. By heav'n, the Scroyles of Angiers flout you,
Kings,

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And ftand fecurely on their battlements,

As in a Theatre, whence they gape and point
At your industrious Scenes and Acts of death.
Your royal prefences, be rul'd by me;
Do like the Mutines of Jerufalem,

Be friends a while, and both conjointly bend
Your fharpeft deeds of malice on this town.
By eaft and weft let France and England mount
Their batt'ring cannon charged to the mouths;
Till their foul-fearing clamours have braul'd down
The flinty ribs of this contemptuous City.
I'd play inceffantly upon thefe jades;

Even till unfenced defolation

Leave them as naked as the vulgar air.

power was this? their fears. It
is plain therefore we should read,
Kings are our fears,
i. e. our fears are the Kings
which at prefent rule us. WARE.

4 In former copies: A greater pow'r, than we, denies all this; Kings Of our fears,] We i. e. ] We fhould read, than ye. What

That

That done, diffever your united strengths,
And part your mingled Colours once again;
Turn face to face, and bloody point to point..
Then in a moment fortune fhall cull forth
Out of one fide her happy minion;
To whom in favour fhe fhall give the day,
And kifs him with a glorious Victory.

How like you this wild counfel, mighty States?
Smacks it not fomething of the Policy?

K. John. Now by the fky, that hangs above our
heads,

I like it well. France, fhall we knit our Pow'rs,
And lay this Angiers even with the ground,
Then, after, fight who shall be King of it?
Faulc. And if thou haft 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 fawcy walls;
And when that we have dash'd them to the ground,
Why then defie each other; and, pell-mell,
Make work upon ourselves for heav'n or hell.

K. Philip. Let it be fo; fay, where will you affault?
K. John. We from the west will send deftruction
Into this City's bofom.

Auft. I from the north.

K. Philip. Our thunder from the fouth

Shall rain their drift of bullets on this town.

Faulc. O prudent difcipline! from North to South;
Auftria and France fhoot in each other's mouth.
I'll ftir them to it; come, away, away!

Cit. Hear us, great Kings; vouchsafe a while to
stay,
And I fhall fhew you peace, and fair-fac'd league;
Win you this city without ftroke or wound;
Rescue those breathing lives to die in beds,
That here come facrifices for the field;
Perfever not, but hear me, mighty Kings.

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K. John.

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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. If lufty love fhould go in queft of beauty, Where fhould he find it fairer than in Blanch? If* zealous love fhould go in fearch of virtue, Where should he find it purer than in Blanch? If love, ambitious, fought a match of Birth, Whose veins bound richer blood than lady Blanch? Such as the is, in beauty, virtue, birth, Is the young Dauphin every way compleat: If not compleat, oh fay, he is not the; And she again wants nothing, (to name Want,) If want it be not, that fhe is not he.

6

He is the half part of a bleffed man ‘;
Left to be finished by fuch a She:
And fhe a fair divided Excellence,
Whofe fulness of perfection lies in him.
Oh! two fuch filver currents, when they join,
Do glorifie the banks that bound them in:

And two fuch fhores, to two such streams made one,
Two fuch controlling bounds fhall you be, Kings,
To these two Princes, if you marry them.
This union fhall do more than battery can,
To our fast-clofed gates: for at this match 7,
With fwifter Spleen than Powder can enforce,
The mouth of paffage fhall we fling wide ope,

Zealous feems here, to fignify pious, or influenced by motives of religion.

5 If not complete of, fay, &c.] Sir T. Hanmer reads, O! Jay. He is the half Part of a bleffed Man,

6

Left to be finished by fuch as She;] Dr. Thirlby prefcrib'd that Reading, which I have here reftoed to the Text. THEOBALD,

7

at this match, With favifter Spleen, &c.] Our authour ufes pleen for any violent hurry, or tumultuous speed. So in Midfummer Night's Dream he applies Spleen to the lightening. I am loath to think that Shakespeare meant to play with the double of match for nuptial, and the match of a gun.

And

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