A Plain, near St. Edmundsbury. The French Camp. | |
| |
Enter, in arms, LEWIS, SALISBURY, MELUN, PEMBROKE, BIGOT, and Soldiers. | |
| Lew. My Lord Melun, let this be copied out, | |
| And keep it safe for our remembrance. | 4 |
| Return the precedent to these lords again; | |
| That, having our fair order written down, | |
| Both they and we, perusing oer these notes, | |
| May know wherefore we took the sacrament, | 8 |
| And keep our faiths firm and inviolable. | |
| Sal. Upon our sides it never shall be broken. | |
| And, noble Dauphin, albeit we swear | |
| A voluntary zeal, an unurgd faith | 12 |
| To your proceedings; yet, believe me, prince, | |
| I am not glad that such a sore of time | |
| Should seek a plaster by contemnd revolt, | |
| And heal the inveterate canker of one wound | 16 |
| By making many. O! it grieves my soul | |
| That I must draw this metal from my side | |
| To be a widow-maker! O! and there | |
| Where honourable rescue and defence | 20 |
| Cries out upon the name of Salisbury. | |
| But such is the infection of the time, | |
| That, for the health and physic of our right, | |
| We cannot deal but with the very hand | 24 |
| Of stern injustice and confused wrong. | |
| And ist not pity, O my grieved friends! | |
| That we, the sons and children of this isle, | |
| Were born to see so sad an hour as this; | 28 |
| Wherein we step after a stranger march | |
| Upon her gentle bosom, and fill up | |
| Her enemies ranks,I must withdraw and weep | |
| Upon the spot of this enforced cause, | 32 |
| To grace the gentry of a land remote, | |
| And follow unacquainted colours here? | |
| What, here? O nation! that thou couldst remove; | |
| That Neptunes arms, who clippeth thee about, | 36 |
| Would bear thee from the knowledge of thyself, | |
| And gripple thee unto a pagan shore; | |
| Where these two Christian armies might combine | |
| The blood of malice in a vein of league, | 40 |
| And not to spend it so unneighbourly! | |
| Lew. A noble temper dost thou show in this; | |
| And great affections wrestling in thy bosom | |
| Do make an earthquake of nobility. | 44 |
| O! what a noble combat hast thou fought | |
| Between compulsion and a brave respect. | |
| Let me wipe off this honourable dew, | |
| That silverly doth progress on thy cheeks: | 48 |
| My heart hath melted at a ladys tears, | |
| Being an ordinary inundation; | |
| But this effusion of such manly drops, | |
| This shower, blown up by tempest of the soul, | 52 |
| Startles mine eyes, and makes me more amazd | |
| Than had I seen the vaulty top of heaven | |
| Figurd quite oer with burning meteors. | |
| Lift up thy brow, renowned Salisbury, | 56 |
| And with a great heart heave away this storm: | |
| Commend these waters to those baby eyes | |
| That never saw the giant world enragd; | |
| Nor met with fortune other than at feasts, | 60 |
| Full warm of blood, of mirth, of gossiping. | |
| Come, come; for thou shalt thrust thy hand as deep | |
| Into the purse of rich prosperity | |
| As Lewis himself: so, nobles, shall you all, | 64 |
| That knit your sinews to the strength of mine. | |
| |
Enter PANDULPH attended. | |
| And even there, methinks, an angel spake: | |
| Look, where the holy legate comes apace, | 68 |
| To give us warrant from the hand of heaven, | |
| And on our actions set the name of right | |
| With holy breath. | |
| Pand. Hail, noble prince of France! | 72 |
| The next is this: King John hath reconcild | |
| Himself to Rome; his spirit is come in | |
| That so stood out against the holy church, | |
| The great metropolis and see of Rome. | 76 |
| Therefore thy threatning colours now wind up, | |
| And tame the savage spirit of wild war, | |
| That, like a lion fosterd up at hand, | |
| It may lie gently at the foot of peace, | 80 |
| And be no further harmful than in show. | |
| Lew. Your grace shall pardon me; I will not back: | |
| I am too high-born to be propertied, | |
| To be a secondary at control, | 84 |
| Or useful serving-man and instrument | |
| To any sovereign state throughout the world. | |
| Your breath first kindled the dead coal of wars | |
| Between this chastisd kingdom and myself, | 88 |
| And brought in matter that should feed this fire; | |
| And now tis far too huge to be blown out | |
| With that same weak wind which enkindled it. | |
| You taught me how to know the face of right, | 92 |
| Acquainted me with interest to this land, | |
| Yea, thrust this enterprise into my heart; | |
| And come you now to tell me John hath made | |
| His peace with Rome? What is that peace to me? | 96 |
| I, by the honour of my marriage-bed, | |
| After young Arthur, claim this land for mine; | |
| And, now it is half-conquerd, must I back | |
| Because that John hath made his peace with Rome? | 100 |
| Am I Romes slave? What penny hath Rome borne, | |
| What men provided, what munition sent, | |
| To underprop this action? ist not I | |
| That undergo this charge? who else but I, | 104 |
| And such as to my claim are liable, | |
| Sweat in this business and maintain this war? | |
| Have I not heard these islanders shout out, | |
| Vive le roy! as I have bankd their towns? | 108 |
| Have I not here the best cards for the game | |
| To win this easy match playd for a crown? | |
| And shall I now give oer the yielded set? | |
| No, no, on my soul, it never shall be said. | 112 |
| Pand. You look but on the outside of this work. | |
| Lew. Outside or inside, I will not return | |
| Till my attempt so much be glorified | |
| As to my ample hope was promised | 116 |
| Before I drew this gallant head of war, | |
| And culld these fiery spirits from the world, | |
| To outlook conquest and to win renown | |
| Even in the jaws of danger and of death. [Trumpet sounds. | 120 |
| What lusty trumpet thus doth summon us? | |
| |
Enter the BASTARD, attended. | |
| Bast. According to the fair play of the world, | |
| Let me have audience; I am sent to speak: | 124 |
| My holy Lord of Milan, from the king | |
| I come, to learn how you have dealt for him; | |
| And, as you answer, I do know the scope | |
| And warrant limited unto my tongue. | 128 |
| Pand. The Dauphin is too wilful-opposite, | |
| And will not temporize with my entreaties: | |
| He flatly says hell not lay down his arms. | |
| Bast. By all the blood that ever fury breathd, | 132 |
| The youth says well. Now hear our English king; | |
| For thus his royalty doth speak in me. | |
| He is prepard; and reason too he should: | |
| This apish and unmannerly approach, | 136 |
| This harnessd masque and unadvised revel, | |
| This unhaird sauciness and boyish troops, | |
| The king doth smile at; and is well prepard | |
| To whip this dwarfish war, these pigmy arms, | 140 |
| From out the circle of his territories. | |
| That hand which had the strength, even at your door, | |
| To cudgel you and make you take the hatch; | |
| To dive, like buckets, in concealed wells; | 144 |
| To crouch in litter of your stable planks; | |
| To lie like pawns lockd up in chests and trunks; | |
| To hug with swine; to seek sweet safety out | |
| In vaults and prisons; and to thrill and shake, | 148 |
| Even at the crying of your nations crow, | |
| Thinking this voice an armed Englishman: | |
| Shall that victorious hand be feebled here | |
| That in your chambers gave you chastisement? | 152 |
| No! Know, the gallant monarch is in arms, | |
| And like an eagle oer his aiery towers, | |
| To souse annoyance that comes near his nest. | |
| And you degenerate, you ingrate revolts, | 156 |
| You bloody Neroes, ripping up the womb | |
| Of your dear mother England, blush for shame: | |
| For your own ladies and pale-visagd maids | |
| Like Amazons come tripping after drums, | 160 |
| Their thimbles into armed gauntlets change, | |
| Their neelds to lances, and their gentle hearts | |
| To fierce and bloody inclination. | |
| Lew. There end thy brave, and turn thy face in peace; | 164 |
| We grant thou canst outscold us: fare thee well; | |
| We hold our time too precious to be spent | |
| With such a brabbler. | |
| Pand. Give me leave to speak. | 168 |
| Bast. No, I will speak. | |
| Lew. We will attend to neither. | |
| Strike up the drums; and let the tongue of war | |
| Plead for our interest and our being here. | 172 |
| Bast. Indeed, your drums, being beaten, will cry out; | |
| And so shall you, being beaten. Do but start | |
| An echo with the clamour of thy drum, | |
| And even at hand a drum is ready bracd | 176 |
| That shall reverberate all as loud as thine; | |
| Sound but another, and another shall | |
| As loud as thine rattle the welkins ear | |
| And mock the deep-mouthd thunder: for at hand, | 180 |
| Not trusting to this halting legate here, | |
| Whom he hath usd rather for sport than need, | |
| Is warlike John; and in his forehead sits | |
| A bare-ribbd death, whose office is this day | 184 |
| To feast upon whole thousands of the French. | |
| Lew. Strike up our drums, to find this danger out. | |
| Bast. And thou shalt find it, Dauphin, do not doubt. [Exeunt. | |