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pass our proffer’d offer,

       ‘Tis not the roundure of your old-fac’d walls

       Can hide you from our messengers of war,

       Though all these English, and their discipline,

       Were harbour’d in their rude circumference.

       Then, tell us, shall your city call us lord

       In that behalf which we have challeng’d it?

       Or shall we give the signal to our rage,

       And stalk in blood to our possession?

       FIRST CITIZEN.

       In brief: we are the King of England’s subjects:

       For him, and in his right, we hold this town.

       KING JOHN.

       Acknowledge then the king, and let me in.

       CITIZEN.

       That can we not; but he that proves the king,

       To him will we prove loyal: till that time

       Have we ramm’d up our gates against the world.

       KING JOHN.

       Doth not the crown of England prove the king?

       And if not that, I bring you witnesses,

       Twice fifteen thousand hearts of England’s breed,—

       BASTARD.

       Bastards, and else.

       KING JOHN.

       To verify our title with their lives.

       KING PHILIP.

       As many and as well-born bloods as those,—

       BASTARD.

       Some bastards too.

       KING PHILIP.

       Stand in his face, to contradict his claim.

       FIRST CITIZEN.

       Till you compound whose right is worthiest,

       We for the worthiest hold the right from both.

       KING JOHN.

       Then God forgive the sin of all those souls

       That to their everlasting residence,

       Before the dew of evening fall, shall fleet,

       In dreadful trial of our kingdom’s king!

       KING PHILIP.

       Amen, Amen!—Mount, chevaliers; to arms!

       BASTARD.

       Saint George, that swinged the dragon, and e’er since

       Sits on his horse’ back at mine hostess’ door,

       Teach us some fence!—Sirrah [To AUSTRIA.], were I at home,

       At your den, sirrah, with your lioness,

       I would set an ox-head to your lion’s hide,

       And make a monster of you.

       AUSTRIA.

       Peace! no more.

       BASTARD.

       O, tremble, for you hear the lion roar.

       KING JOHN.

       Up higher to the plain; where we’ll set forth

       In best appointment all our regiments.

       BASTARD.

       Speed, then, to take advantage of the field.

       KING PHILIP.

       It shall be so;—[To LOUIS.] and at the other hill

       Command the rest to stand.—God and our right!

       [Exeunt severally.]

       [After excursions, enter a French Herald, with trumpets, to the gates.]

       FRENCH HERALD.

       You men of Angiers, open wide your gates

       And let young Arthur, Duke of Bretagne, in,

       Who, by the hand of France, this day hath made

       Much work for tears in many an English mother,

       Whose sons lie scatter’d on the bleeding ground;

       Many a widow’s husband grovelling lies,

       Coldly embracing the discolour’d earth;

       And victory, with little loss, doth play

       Upon the dancing banners 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 an ENGLISH HERALD, with trumpets.]

       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.

       FIRST CITIZEN.

       Heralds, from off our towers, 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.

       [Enter, on one side, KING JOHN, ELINOR, BLANCH, the BASTARD, and

       Forces; at the other, KING PHILIP, LOUIS, AUSTRIA, and Forces.]

       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.

       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.

       BASTARD.

       Ha, majesty! how high thy glory towers

      

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