« AnteriorContinua »
My boy a bastard ! By my soul, I think,
father. Const. There's a good grandam, boy, that would
blot thee. Aust. Peace ! Bast.
Hear the crier. Aust.
What the devil art thou ? Bast. One that will play the devil, sir, with you, An'a may
Blanch. O, well did he become that lion's robe,
Bast. It lies as sightly on the back of him,
Aust. What cracker is this same, that deafs our ears. With this abundance of superfluous breath?
K. Phi. Lewis, determine what we shall do straight. Lew. Women and fools, break off your confer
King John, this is the very sum of all,-
In right of Arthur do I claim of thee:
K. John. My life as soon :- I do defy thee, France.
Come to thy grandam, child.
Good my mother, peace!
Eli. His mother shames him so, poor boy, he weeps.
Const. Now shame upon you, whe'r she does, or no! His grandam's wrongs, and not his mother's shames, Draw those heaven-moving pearls from his poor eyes, Which heaven shall take in nature of a fee; Ay, with these crystal beads heaven shall be brib'd To do him justice, and revenge on you. Eli. Thou monstrous slanderer of heaven and
earth! Const. Thou monstrous injurer of heaven and
earth! Call not me slanderer ; thou, and thine, usurp The dominations, royalties, and rights, Of this oppressed boy: This is thy eldest son's son, Infortunate in nothing but in thee;
Thy sins are visited in this
K. John. Bedlam, have done.
15 I have but this to say,
Eli. Thou unadvised scold, I can produce A will, that bars the title of thy son. Const. Ay, who doubts that? a will! a wicked
will; A woman's will ; a canker'd grandam's will !
K. Phi. Peace, lady; pause, or be more temperate : It ill beseems this presence, to cry aim To these ill-tuned repetitions. Some trumpet summon hither to the walls These men of Angiers; let us hear them speak, Whose title they admit, Arthur's or John's.
Trumpets sound. Enter Citizens upon the walls. i Cit. Who is it, that hath warn'd us to the walls ? K. Phi. 'Tis France, for England. K. John.
England, for itself : You men of Angiers, and my loving subjects,VOL. VI.
K. Phi. You loving men of Angiers, Arthur's
subjects, Our trumpet call'd you to this gentle parle. K. John. For our advantage ;—Therefore, hear us
first. These flags of France, that are advanced here Before the eye and prospect of your town, Have hither march'd to your endamagement: The cannons have their bowels full of wrath ; And ready mounted are they, to spit forth Their iron indignation 'gainst your walls : All preparation for a bloody siege, And merciless proceeding by these French, Confront your city's eyes, your winking gates; And, but for our approach, those sleeping stones, That as a waist do girdle you about, By the compulsion of their ordnance By this time from their fixed beds of lime Had been dishabited, and wide havock made For bloody power to rush upon your peace. But, on the sight of us, your lawful king, Who painfully, with much expedient march, Have brought a countercheck before your gates, To save unscratch'd your city's threaten'd cheeks,Behold, the French, amaz’d, vouchsafe a parle : And now, instead of bullets wrapp'd in fire, To make a shaking fever in your walls, They shoot but calm words, folded up in smoke, To make a faithless error in your ears : Which trust accordingly, kind citizens,
And let us in, your king; whose labour'd spirits,
peace. But if you fondly pass our proffer'd offer, 'Tis not the roundure 16 of your old-fac'd walls Can hide you from our messengers of war;