Part 5

Iohn. England for it selfe: You men of Angiers, and my louing subiects

Fra. You louing men of Angiers, Arthurs subiects, Our Trumpet call'd you to this gentle parle

Iohn. For our aduantage, therefore heare vs first: These flagges of France that are aduanced heere Before the eye and prospect of your Towne, Haue hither march'd to your endamagement. The Canons haue their bowels full of wrath, And ready mounted are they to spit forth Their Iron indignation 'gainst your walles: All preparation for a bloody siedge And merciles proceeding, by these French. Comfort your Citties eies, your winking gates: And but for our approch, those sleeping stones, That as a waste doth girdle you about By the compulsion of their Ordinance, By this time from their fixed beds of lime Had bin dishabited, and wide hauocke made For bloody power to rush vppon your peace. But on the sight of vs your lawfull King, Who painefully with much expedient march Haue brought a counter-checke before your gates, To saue vnscratch'd your Citties threatned cheekes: Behold the French amaz'd vouchsafe a parle, And now insteed of bulletts wrapt in fire To make a shaking feuer in your walles, They shoote but calme words, folded vp in smoake, To make a faithlesse errour in your eares, Which trust accordingly kinde Cittizens, And let vs in. Your King, whose labour'd spirits Fore-wearied in this action of swift speede, Craues harbourage within your Citie walles

France. When I haue saide, make answer to vs both. Loe in this right hand, whose protection Is most diuinely vow'd vpon the right Of him it holds, stands yong Plantagenet, Sonne to the elder brother of this man, And King ore him, and all that he enioyes: For this downe-troden equity, we tread In warlike march, these greenes before your Towne, Being no further enemy to you Then the constraint of hospitable zeale, In the releefe of this oppressed childe, Religiously prouokes. Be pleased then To pay that dutie which you truly owe, To him that owes it, namely, this yong Prince, And then our Armes, like to a muzled Beare, Saue in aspect, hath all offence seal'd vp: Our Cannons malice vainly shall be spent Against th' involnerable clouds of heauen, And with a blessed and vn-vext retyre, With vnhack'd swords, and Helmets all vnbruis'd, We will beare home that lustie blood againe, Which heere we came to spout against your Towne, And leaue your children, wiues, and you in peace. But if you fondly passe our proffer'd offer, 'Tis not the rounder of your old-fac'd walles, Can hide you from our messengers of Warre, Though all these English, and their discipline Were harbour'd in their rude circumference: Then tell vs, Shall your Citie call vs Lord, In that behalfe which we haue challeng'd it? Or shall we giue the signall to our rage, And stalke in blood to our possession? Cit. In breefe, we are the King of Englands subiects For him, and in his right, we hold this Towne

Iohn. Acknowledge then the King, and let me in

Cit. That can we not: but he that proues the King To him will we proue loyall, till that time Haue we ramm'd vp our gates against the world

Iohn. Doth not the Crowne of England, prooue the King? And if not that, I bring you Witnesses Twice fifteene thousand hearts of Englands breed

Bast. Bastards and else

Iohn. To verifie our title with their liues

Fran. As many and as well-borne bloods as those

Bast. Some Bastards too

Fran. Stand in his face to contradict his claime

Cit. Till you compound whose right is worthiest, We for the worthiest hold the right from both

Iohn. Then God forgiue the sinne of all those soules, That to their euerlasting residence, Before the dew of euening fall, shall fleete In dreadfull triall of our kingdomes King

Fran. Amen, Amen, mount Cheualiers to Armes

Bast. Saint George that swindg'd the Dragon, And ere since sit's on's horsebacke at mine Hostesse dore Teach vs some sence. Sirrah, were I at home At your den sirrah, with your Lionnesse, I would set an Oxe-head to your Lyons hide: And make a monster of you

Aust. Peace, no more

Bast. O tremble: for you heare the Lyon rore

Iohn. Vp higher to the plaine, where we'l set forth In best appointment all our Regiments

Bast. Speed then to take aduantage of the field

Fra. It shall be so, and at the other hill Command the rest to stand, God and our right.

Exeunt.

Heere after excursions, Enter the Herald of France with Trumpets to the gates.

F.Her. You men of Angiers open wide your gates, And let yong Arthur Duke of Britaine in, Who by the hand of France, this day hath made Much worke for teares in many an English mother, Whose sonnes lye scattered on the bleeding ground: Many a widdowes husband groueling lies, Coldly embracing the discoloured earth, And victorie with little losse doth play Vpon the dancing banners of the French, Who are at hand triumphantly displayed To enter Conquerors, and to proclaime Arthur of Britaine, Englands King, and yours. Enter English Herald with Trumpet.

E.Har. Reioyce you men of Angiers, ring your bels, King Iohn, your king and Englands, doth approach, Commander of this hot malicious day, Their Armours that march'd hence so siluer bright, Hither returne all gilt with Frenchmens blood: There stucke no plume in any English Crest, That is remoued by a staffe of France. Our colours do returne in those same hands That did display them when we first marcht forth: And like a iolly troope of Huntsmen come Our lustie English, all with purpled hands, Dide in the dying slaughter of their foes, Open your gates, and giue the Victors way

Hubert. Heralds, from off our towres we might behold From first to last, the on-set and retyre: Of both your Armies, whose equality By our best eyes cannot be censured: Blood hath bought blood, and blowes haue answerd blowes: Strength matcht with strength, and power confronted power, Both are alike, and both alike we like: One must proue greatest. While they weigh so euen, We hold our Towne for neither: yet for both. Enter the two Kings with their powers, at seuerall doores.

Iohn. France, hast thou yet more blood to cast away? Say, shall the currant of our right rome on, Whose passage vext with thy impediment, Shall leaue his natiue channell, and ore-swell With course disturb'd euen thy confining shores, Vnlesse thou let his siluer Water, keepe A peacefull progresse to the Ocean

Fra. England thou hast not sau'd one drop of blood In this hot triall more then we of France, Rather lost more. And by this hand I sweare That swayes the earth this Climate ouer-lookes, Before we will lay downe our iust-borne Armes, Wee'l put thee downe, 'gainst whom these Armes wee beare, Or adde a royall number to the dead: Gracing the scroule that tels of this warres losse, With slaughter coupled to the name of kings