THE First and second Part of the troublesome Reign of John King of England. With the discovery of King Richard Cordelion' Base son (vulgarly named, The Bastard Fawconbridge:) Also, the death of King john at Swinstead Abbey. As they were (sundry times) lately acted the Queen's majesties Players. Written by W. Sh.  
Imprinted at London by Valentine Simmes for john Helm, and are to be sold at his shop in Saint Dunston's Churchyard in Fleetestreet. 1611.   

The troublesome Reign of King john.  Enter K. john, Queen Elinor his mother, William Martial Earl of Pembroke, the Earls of Essex, and of Salisbury. Queen Elinor. 
BArons of England, and my noble Lords;  
Though God and Fortune have bereft from us  
Victorious Richard scourge of Infidels,  
And clad this Land in stole of dismal hue:  
Yet give me leave to joy, and joy you all,  
That from this womb hath sprung a second hope,  
A King that may in rule and virtue both  
Succeed his brother in his Empery.  K. john 
My gracious mother Queen, and Barons all;  
Though far unworthy of so high a place,  
As is the Throne of mighty England's King;  
Yet john your Lord, contented uncontent,  
Will (as he may) sustain the heavy yoke  
Of pressing cares, that hang upon a Crown.  
My Lord of Pembroke and Lord Salisbury,  
Admit the Lord Chattilion to our presence;  
That we may know what Philip King of France  
(By his Ambassadors) requires of vs.  Q. Elinor 
Dare lay my hand that Elinor can guess  
Whereto this weighty ambassade doth tend:  
If of my nephew Arthur and his claim,  
Then say, my Son, I have not missed my aim.  Enter Chattilion and the two Earls. john 
My Lord Chattilion, welcome into England:  
How fares our brother Philip king of France?  Chat. 
His Highness at my coming was in health,  
And willed me to salute your Majesty,  
And say the message he hath given in charge.  john 
And spare not man, we are prepared to hear.  Chat. 
Philip, by the grace of God most Christian King of France, having taken into his guard & protection Arthur D. of Britain son and heir to jeffrey thine elder brother, requireth in the behalf of the said Arthur, the kingdom of England, with the lordship of Ireland, Poiteer, Anjou, Touraine, Maine: and I attend thine answer.  john 
A small request: belike he makes account,  
That England, Ireland, Poiteer, Anjou, Touraine, Maine,  
Are nothing for a King to give at once:  
I wonder what he means to leave for me.  
Tell Philip, he may keep his Lords at home,  
With greater honour than to send them thus  
On Embassades that not concern himself,  
Or if they did, would yield but small return.  Chat. 
Is this thine answer?  john 
It is, and too good an answer for so proud a message.  Chat. 
Then King of England, in my Master's name,  
And in Prince Arthur duke of Britain's name,  
I do defy thee as an enemy,  
And wish thee to prepare for bloody wars.  Q. Elinor 
My Lord (that stands upon defiance thus)  
Commend me to my nephew, tell the boy,  
That I Queen Elinor (his grandmother)  
Upon my blessing charge him leave his Arms,  
Whereto his headstrong mother pricks him so:  
Her pride we know, and know her for a Dame  
That will not stick to bring him to his end,  
So she may bring herself to rule a realm.  
Next, wish him to forsake the King of France,  
And come to me and to his uncle here,  
And he shall want for nothing at our hands.  Chat. 
This shall I do, and thus I take my leave.  john 
Pembroke, convey him safely to the sea,  
But not in haste: for as we are advised,  
We mean to be in France as soon as he,  
To fortify such towns as we possess  
In Anjou, Touraine, and in Normandy.  Exit Chatt. Enter the shrive and whispers the Earl of Salis. in the care. Sals. 
Please it your majesty, here is the shrive of Northhamptonshire, with certain persons that of late committed a riot, and have appealed to your Majesty, beseeching your Highness for special cause to hear them.  john 
Will them come near, and while we hear the cause,  
Go Salisbury and make provision,  
We mean with speed to pass the Sea to France.  
Say shrive, what are these men, what have they done?  
Or whereto tends the course of this appeal?  shrive 
Please it your majesty, these two brethren unnaturally falling at odds about their father's living, have broken your highness peace, in seeking to right their own wrongs without course of Law, or order of justice, & unlawfully assembled themselves in mutinous manner, having committed a riot, appealing from trial in their country to your Highness: and here I Thomas Nidigate shrine of Northamptonshire do deliver them over to their trial.  john 
My Lord of Essex, will th'offenders to stand forth, and tell the cause of their quarrel.  Essex 
Gentlemen, it is the King's pleasure that you discover your griefs, and doubt not but you shall have justice.  Phil. 
Please it your M. the wrong is mine: yet will I abide all wrongs, before I once open my mouth t'unrip the shameful slander of my parents, the dishonour of myself, & the bad dealing of my brother in this princely assembly.  Robert 
Then, by my Prince his leave, shall Robert speak,  
And tell your Majesty what right I have  
To offer wrong, as he accounteth wrong.  
My father (not unknown unto your Grace)  
Received his spurs of Knighthood in the Field,  
At kingly Richard's hands in Palestine,  
When as the walls of Acon gave him way:  
His name sir Robert Fauconbridge of Mountbery.  
What by succession from his Ancestors,  
And warlike service under England's Arms,  
His living did amount to at his death  
Two thousand marks revenue every year:  
And this (my Lord) I challenge for my right,  
As lawful heir to Robert-Fauconbridge.  Philip 
If first-born son be heir indubitate  
By certain right of England's ancient Law,  
How should myself make any other doubt,  
But I am heir to Robert Fauconbridge?  john 
Fond youth, to trouble these our princely cares,  
Or make a question in so plain a case:  
Speak, is this man thine elder brother borne?  Robert 
Please it your Grace with patience for to hear.  
I not deny but he mine elder is,  
Mine elder brother too: yet in such sort,  
As he can make no title to the land.  john 
A doubtful tale as ever I did hear,  
Thy brother, and thine elder, and no heir:  
Explain this dark Aenigma.  Robert 
I grant (my Lord) he is my mother's son,  
Base borne, and base begot, no Fauconbridge.  
Indeed the world reputes him lawful heir,  
My father in his life did count him so,  
And here my mother stands to prove him so:  
But I (my Lord) can prove, and do aver  
Both to my mother's shame, and his reproach,  
He is no heir, nor yet legitimate.  
Then (gracious Lord) let Fauconbridge enjoy  
The living that belongs to Fauconbridge.  
And let not him possess another's right.  john 
Prove this, the land is thine by England's law.  Q. Elin. 
Ungracious youth, to rip thy mother's shame,  
The womb from whence thou didst thy being take,  
All honest ears abhor thy wickedness,  
But gold I see doth beat down Nature's law.  Mother 
My gracious Lord, and you thrice reverend Dame,  
That see the tears distilling from mine eyes,  
And scalding sighs blown from a rent heart:  
For honour and regard of womanhood,  
Let me entreat to be commanded hence.  
Let not these ears here receive the hissing sound  
Of such a viper, who with poisoned words  
Doth macerate the bowels of my soul.  john 
Lady, stand up, be patient for a while:  
And fellow, say, whose bastard is thy brother?  Philip 
Not for myself, nor for my mother now;  
But for the honour of so brave a man,  
Whom he accuseth with adultery:  
here I beseech your Grace upon my knees,  
To count him mad, and so dismiss us hence.  Robert 
Nor mad, nor amazed, but well advised, I  
Charge thee before this royal presence here  
To be a bastard to king Richard's self,  
Son to your Grace, and brother to your Majesty.  
Thus bluntly, and  Elian. 
Young man, thou needst not be ashamed of thy kin,  
Nor of thy Sire. But forward with thy proof.  Robert 
The proof so plain, the argument so strong,  
As that your Highness and these noble Lords,  
And all (save those that have no eyes to see)  
Shall swear him to be bastard to the king.  
First, when my Father was Ambassador  
In Germany unto the Emperor,  
The King lay often at my father's house;  
And all the realm suspected what befell:  
And at my father's back-return again  
My mother was delivered, as 'tis said,  
Six weeks before the account my father made.  
But more than this: look but on Philip's face,  
His features, actions, and his lineaments,  
And all this princely presence shall confess,  
He is no other but King Richard's son.  
Then gracious Lord, rest he King Richard's son,  
And let me rest safe in my Father's right,  
That am his rightful son and only heir.  john 
Is this thy proof, and all thou hast to say?  Robert 
I have no more, nor need I greater proof.  john 
First, where thou saidst in absence of thy Sire  
My brother often lodged in his house:  
And what of that? base groom to slander him,  
That honoured his Ambassador so much,  
In absence of the man to cheer the wife?  
This will not hold, proceed unto the next.  Q. Elin. 
Thou sayst she teemed six weeks before her time,  
Why good sir Squire, are you so cunning grown,  
To make account of women's reckonings?  
Spit in your hand and to your other proofs:  
Many mischances happen in such affairs,  
To make a woman come before her time.  john 
And where thou sayst, he looketh like the King,  
In action, feature and proportion:  
Therein I hold with thee, for in my life  
I never saw so lively counterfeit  
Of Richard Cordelion, as in him.  Robert 
Then good my Lord, be you indifferent judge,  
And let me have my living and my right.  Q. Elinor 
Nay, hear you sir, you run away too fast:  
Know you not, Omne simile non est idem?  
Or have read in. Hark ye good sir,  
'twas thus I warrant, and no otherwise,  
She lay with sir Robert your father, and thought upon King Richard my son, and so your brother was formed in this fashion.  Robert 
Madame, you wrong me thus to jest it out,  
I crave my right: King john, as thou art King,  
So be thou just, and let me have my right.  john 
Why (foolish boy) thy proofs are frivolous,  
Nor canst thou challenge any thing thereby.  
But thou shalt see how I will help thy claim:  
This is my doom, and this my doom shall stand  
Irrevocable, as I am king of England.  
For thou know'st not, we'll ask of them that know,  
His mother and himself shall end this strife:  
And as they say, so shall thy living paste.  Robert. 
My Lord, herein I challenge you of wrong,  
To give away my right, and put the doom  
Unto themselves. Can there be likelihood  
That she will lose?  
Or he will give the living from himself?  
It may not be my Lord. Why should it be?  john. 
Lords, keep him back, & let him hear the doom.  
Essex, first ask the Mother thrice who was his Sire?  Essex. 
Lady Margaret, widow of Fauconbridge,  
Who was Father to thy Son Philip?  Mother. 
Please it your Majesty, Sir Rob. Fauconbridge.  Rob. 
This is right, ask my fellow there if I be a thief.  john. 
Ask Philip whose son he is.  Essex. 
Philip, who was thy Father?  Philip. 
Mass my Lord, and that's a question: and you had not taken some pains with her before, I should have desired you to ask my Mother.  john. 
Say, who was thy Father?  Philip. 
Faith (my Lord) to answer you, sure he is my father that was nearest my mother when I was begotten, and him I think to be Sir Robert Fauconbridge.  john. 
Essex, for fashion's sake demand again,  
And so an end to this contention.  Robert. 
Was ever man thus wronged as Robert is?  Essex. 
Philip speak I say, who was thy father?  john. 
Young man how now, what art thou in a trance?  Elinor. 
Philip awake, the man is in a dream.  Philip. 
Philippus atavis aedite Regibus.  
What sayst thou Philip, sprung of ancient Kings?  
Quo me rapit tempestas?  
What wind of honour blows this fury forth?  
Or whence proceed these fumes of Majesty?  
Me thinks I hear a hollow Echo sound,  
That Philip is the son unto a King:  
The whistling leaves upon the trembling trees,  
Whistle in consort I am Richard's son:  
The bubbling murmur of the waters fall,  
Records Philippus Regius filius:  
Birds in their flight make music with their wings,  
Filling the air with glory of my birth:  
Birds, bubbles, leaves, and mountains, Echo, all  
Ring in mine ears, that I am Richard's son.  
Fond man! ah whither art thou carried?  
How are thy thoughts ywrapt in honours heaven?  
Forgetful what thou art, and whence thou camest.  
Thy Father's land cannot maintain these thoughts,  
These thoughts are far unfitting Fauconbridge:  
And well they may; for why this mounting mind  
Doth soar too high to stoop to Fauconbridge.  
Why how now? knowest thou where thou art?  
And knowest thou who expects thine answer here?  
Wilt thou upon a frantic madding vain  
Go lose thy land, and say thyself base borne?  
No, keep thy land, though Richard were thy Sire,  
What ere thou thinkst, say thou art Fauconbridge.  john. 
Speak man, be sudden, who thy Father was.  Philip. 
Please it your Majesty, Sir Robert  
Philip, that Fauconbridge cleaves to thy jaws:  
It will not out, I cannot for my life  
Say I am son unto a Fauconbridge.  
Let land and living go, 'tis honours fire  
That makes me swear King Richard was my Sire.  
Base to a King adds title of more State,  
Than Knights begotten, though legitimate.  
Please it your Grace, I am King Richard's Son.  Robert 
Robert revive thy heart, let sorrow die,  
His faltering tongue not suffers him to lie.  Mo. 
What headstrong fury doth enchant my son?  Philip 
Philip cannot repent, for he hath done.  john 
Then Philip blame not me, thyself hast lost  
By wilfulness, thy living and thy land.  
Robert, thou art the heir of Fauconbridge,  
God give thee joy, greater than thy desert.  Q. Elia. 
Why how now Philip, give away thine own?  Ph. 
Madame, I am bold to make myself your nephew,  
The poorest kinsman that your Highness hath:  
And with this Proverb gi'en the world anew,  
Help hands, I have no lands, Honour is my desire;  
Let Philip live to show himself worthy so great a Sire.  Eli. 
Philip, I think thou knewst thy Grandams mind:  
But cheer thee boy, I will not see thee want  
As long as Elinor hath foot of land;  
Henceforth thou shalt be taken for my son,  
And wait on me and on thine uncle here,  
Who shall give honour to thy noble mind.  john 
Philip kneel down, that thou mayst thoroughly know  
How much thy resolution pleaseth us,  
Rise up Sir Richard Plantagenet king Richard's Son.  Philip 
Grant heavens that Philip once may show himself  
Worthy the honour of Plantagenet,  
Or basest glory of a Bastard's name.  john 
Now Gentlemen, we will away to France,  
To check the pride of Arthur and his mates:  
Essex, thou shalt be Ruler of my Realm,  
And toward the main charges of my wars,  
I'll cease the lasic Abbey lubbers lands  
Into my hands to pay my men of war.  
The Pope and Popelings shall not grease themselves  
With gold and groats, that are the soldiers due.  
Thus forward Lords, let our command be done,  
And march we forward mightily to France.  Exeunt. Manet Philip and his Mother. Philip 
Madame, I beseech you deign me so much leisure as the hearing of a matter that I long to impart to you.  Mother. 
What's the matter Philip? I think your suit in secret, tends to some money matter, which you suppose burns in the bottom of my chest.  Phil. 
No Madam, it is no such suit as to beg or borrow,  
But such a suit, as might some other grant,  
I would not now have troubled you withal.  Mother. 
A God's name let us hear it.  Phil. 
Then Madam thus, your Ladyship sees well,  
How that my scandal grows by means of you,  
In that report hath rumoured up and down,  
I am a bastard, and no Fauconbridge.  
This gross attaint so tilteth in my thoughts,  
Maintaining combat to abridge mine ease,  
That field and town, and company alone,  
What so I do, or wheresoe'er I am,  
I cannot chase the slander from my thoughts.  
If it be true, resolve me of my fire,  
For pardon Madam, if I think amiss.  
Be Philip Philip, and no Fauconbridge,  
His father doubtless was as brave a man.  
To you on knees, as sometime Phaeton,  
Mistrusting sielly Merop for his sire,  
Straining a little bashful modesty,  
I beg some instance whence I am extraught.  Moth. 
Yet more ado to haste me to my grave,  
And wilt thou too become a mother's cross?  
Must I accuse myself to close with you?  
Slander myself, to quiet your affects?  
Thou movest me Philip with this idle talk,  
Which I remit, in hope this mood will die.  Phil. 
Nay Lady mother, hear me further yet,  
For strong conceit drives duty hence awhile:  
Your husband Fauconbridge was father to that son,  
That carries marks of Nature like the fire,  
The son that blotteth you with wedlocks breach,  
And holds my right, as lineal in descent  
From him whose form was figured in his face▪  
Can Nature so dissemble in her frame,  
To make the one so like as like may be,  
And in the other print no character  
To challenge any mark of true descent?  
My brother's mind is base, and too too dull,  
To mount where Philip lodgeth his affects,  
And his external graces that you view,  
(Though I report it) counterpoise not mine:  
His constitution plain debility,  
Requires the chair, and mine the seat of steel.  
Nay, what is he, or what am I to him?  
When any one that knoweth how to carp,  
Will scarcely judge us both one country borne.  
This Madam, this, hath drove me from myself:  
And here by heavens eternal lamps I swear,  
As cursed Nero with his mother did,  
So I with you, if you resolve me not.  Moth. 
Let mother's tears quench out thy anger's fire,  
And urge no further what thou dost require.  Phil. 
Let sons entreaty sway the mother now,  
Or else she dies: I'll not infringe my vow.  Moth. 
Unhappy task: must I recount my shame,  
Blab my misdeeds, or by concealing die?  
Some power strike me speechless for a time,  
Or take from him a while his hear use.  
Why wish I so, unhappy as I am?  
The fault is mine, and he the faulty fruit,  
I blush, I faint, oh would I might be mute.  Phil. 
Mother be brief, I long to know my name.  Moth. 
And longing die, to shroud thy mother's shame.  Phil. 
Come Madam come, you need not be so loath,  
The shame is shared equal twixt us both.  
Is't not a slackness in me, worthy blame,  
To be so old, and cannot write my name.  
Good mother resolve me.  Moth. 
Then Philip hear thy fortune, and my grief,  
My honour's loss by purchase of thyself,  
My shame, thy name, and husbands secret wrong,  
All maimed and stained by youths unruly sway.  
And when thou know'st from whence thou art extraught,  
Or if thou knew'st what suits, what threats, what fears,  
To move by love, or massacre by death.  
To yield with love, or end by loves contempt.  
The mightiness of him that courted me,  
Who tempered terror with his wanton talk,  
That something may extenuate the guilt.  
But let it not advantage me so much:  
Upbraid me rather with the Roman dame,  
That shed her blood to wash away her shame.  
Why stand I to expostulate the crime  
With pro & contra, now the deed is done?  
When to conclude two words may tell the tale,  
That Philip's father was a prince's son,  
Rich England's rule, world's only terror he,  
For honour's loss left me with child of thee:  
Whose son thou art, then pardon me the rather,  
For fair King Richard was thy noble father.  Phil. 
Then Robin Fauconbridge I wish thee joy,  
My sire a king, and I a landless boy.  
God's lady mother, the world is in my debt,  
There's something owing to Plantagenet.  
I marry sir, let me alone for game,  
I'll act some wonders now I know my name.  
By blessed Mary. I'll not sell that pride  
For England's wealth, and all the world beside.  
Sit fast the proudest of my father's foes,  
Away good mother, there the comfort goes.  Exeunt. Enter Philip the French King, and Lewis, Lymoges, Constance, and her son Arthur. King. 
Now gi'en we broach the title of thy claim,  
Young Arthur in the Albion territories,  
Scaring proud Angiers with a puissant siege:  
Brave Austria, cause of Cordelion's death,  
Is also come to aid thee in thy wars;  
And all our Forces join for Arthur's right.  
And, but for causes of great consequence,  
Pleading delay till news from England come,  
Twice should not Titan hide him in the West,  
To cool the fetlocks of his weary team,  
Till I had with an unresisted shock  
Controlled the manage of proud Angiers walls,  
Or made a forfeit of my fame to Chance.  Const. 
May be that john in conscience or in fear  
To offer wrong where you impugn the ill,  
Will send such calm conditions back to France,  
As shall rebate the edge of fearful wars:  
If so, forbearance is a deed, well done.  Arth. 
Ah mother, possession of a Crown is much,  
And john as I have heard reported of,  
For present vantage would adventure far.  
The world can witness, in his Brother's time,  
He took upon him rule, and almost reign;  
Then must it follow as a doubtful point,  
That he'll resign the rule unto his Nephew.  
I rather think the menace of the world  
Sounds in his ears, as threats of no esteem,  
And sooner would he scorn Europa's power,  
Than loose the smallest title he enjoys;  
For questionless he is an Englishman.  Lewis. 
Why are the English peerless in compare?  
Brave Cavaliers as ere that Island bred,  
Have lived and died, and dared, and done enough,  
Yet never graced their country for the cause:  
England is England, yielding good and bad,  
And john of England is as other johns.  
Trust me young Arthur, if thou like my reed,  
Praise thou the French that help thee in this need.  Lymog. 
The Englishman hath little cause I trow,  
To spend good speeches on so proud a foe.  
Why Arthur here's his spoil that now is gone,  
Who when he lived outroved his brother john:  
But hasty curs that lie so long to catch,  
Come halting home, and meet their overmatch.  
But news comes now, here's the Ambassador.  Enter Chattilion. K. Phil. 
And in good time, welcome my Lord Chattillion:  
What news? will john accord to our command?  Chat. 
Be I not brief to tell your Highness all,  
He will approach to interrupt my tale:  
For one self bottom brought us both to France.  
He on his part will try the chance of war,  
And if his words infer assured truth,  
Will lose himself, and all his followers,  
Ere yield unto the least of your demands.  
The Mother Queen she taketh on amain  
'Gainst Lady Constance, counting her the cause  
That doth effect this claim to Albion,  
Conjuring Arthur with a grandame's care,  
To leave his Mother; willing him submit  
His state to john, and her protection,  
Who (as she saith) are studious for his good.  
More circumstance the season intercepts:  
This is the sum, which briefly I have shown.  K. Phil. 
This bitter wind must nip somebody's spring:  
Sudden and brief, why so, 'tis harvest weather.  
But say Chattilion, what persons of account are with him?  Chat. 
Of England, Earl Pembroke and Salisbury,  
The only noted men of any name.  
Next them, a bastard of the Kings deceased,  
A hardy wild-head, tough and venturous,  
With many other men of high resolve.  
Then is there with them Elinor Mother Queen,  
And Blanche her Niece, daughter to the King of Spain:  
These are the prime birds of this hot adventure.  Enter john and his followers, Queen, Bastard, Earles, etc. K. Phil. 
Me seemeth john, an overdaring spirit  
Effects some frenzy in thy rash approach,  
Treading my Confines with thy armed troops.  
I rather looked for some submiss reply  
Touching the claim thy Nephew Arthur makes  
To that which thou unjustly dost usurp.  K. john 
For that Chattilion can discharge you all,  
I list not plead my Title with my tongue.  
Nor came I hither with intent of wrong  
To France or thee, or any right of thine;  
But in defence and purchase of my right,  
The town of Angiers: which thou dost begirt  
In the behalf of Lady Constance son,  
Whereto nor he nor she can lay just claim.  Constance 
Yes (false intruder) if that just be just,  
And headstrong usurpation put apart,  
Arthur my Son, heir to thy elder brother,  
Without ambiguous shadow of descent,  
Is Sovereign to the substance thou withholdst.  Q. Elinor 
Misgoverned gossip, stain to this resort,  
Occasion of these undecided jars,  
I say (that know) to check thy vain suppose,  
Thy son hath nought to do with that he claims.  
For proof whereof, I can infer a Will,  
That bars the way he urgeth by descent.  Con. 
A Will indeed, a crabbed woman's will,  
Wherein the devil is an overseer,  
And proud dame Elinor sole Executress:  
More wills than so, on peril of my soul,  
Were never made to hinder Arthur's right.  Arthur 
But say there was, as sure there can be none,  
The Law intends such testaments as void,  
Where right descent can no way be impeached.  Q. Elinor 
Peace Arthur peace, thy mother makes thee wings  
To soar with peril after Icarus,  
And trust me youngling for the Father's sake,  
I pity much the hazard of thy youth.  Constance 
Beshrew you else how pitiful you are,  
Ready to weep to hear him ask his own;  
Sorrow betid such Grandames and such grief,  
That minister a poison for pure love.  
But who so blind, as cannot see this beam,  
That you forsooth would keep your cousin down,  
For fear his mother should be used too well?  
I there's the grief, confusion catch the brain,  
That hammer's shifts to stop a Prince's reign.  Q. Elia. 
Impatient, frantic, common slanderer,  
Immodest dame, unnurtured quarreler,  
I tell thee I, not envy to thy son,  
But justice makes me speak as I have done.  K. Phil. 
But here's no proof that shows your son a king.  K.I. 
What wants, my sword shall more at large set down  Lew. 
But that may break before the truth be known.  Bast. 
Then this may hold till all his tight be shown.  Lym. 
Good words sir sauce, your betters are in place.  Bast. 
Not you sir doughty, with your lions case.  Blanch. 
Ah joy betid his soul, to whom that spoil belonged:  
Ah Richard, how thy glory here is wronged.  Lym. 
Me thinks that Richard's pride & Richard's fall,  
Should be a precedent t'affright you all.  Bast. 
What words are these? how do my sinews shake?  
My father's foe clad in my father's spoil,  
A thousand furies kindle with revenge,  
This heart that choler keeps a consistory,  
Searing my inwards with a brand of hate:  
How doth Allecto whisper in mine ears?  
Delay not Philip, kill the villain straight,  
Disrobe him of the matchless monument  
Thy father's triumph o'er the Savages,  
Base heardgroom, coward peasant, worse than a threshing slave,  
What mak'st thou with the Trophy of a king?  
Sham'st thou not coistrel, loathsome dunghill swad,  
To grace thy carcase with an ornament  
Too precious for a monarch coverture?  
Scarce can I temper due obedience  
Unto the presence of my Sovereign,  
From acting outrage on this trunk of hate:  
But arm thee traitor, wronger of renown,  
For by his soul I swear, my Father's soul,  
Twice will I not review the morning's rise,  
Till I have torn that Trophy from thy back,  
And split thy heart for wearing it so long.  
Philip hath sworn, and if it be not done,  
Let not the world repute me Richard's son.  Lym. 
Nay soft sir bastard, hearts are not split so soon,  
Let them rejoice that at the end do win:  
And take this lesson at thy foeman's hand,  
Pawn not thy life to get thy Father's skin.  Blan. 
Well may the world speak of his knightly valour,  
That wins this hide to wear a Lady's favour.  Bast. 
Ill may I thrive, and nothing brook with me,  
If shortly I present it not to thee.  K. Phil. 
Lordings forbear, for time is coming fast,  
That deeds may try what words can not determine,  
And to the purpose for the cause you come.  
Me seems you set right in chance of war,  
Yielding no other reasons for your claim,  
But so and so, because it shall be so.  
So wrong shall be suborned by trust of strength:  
A tyrant's practice to invest himself,  
Where weak resistance giveth wrong the way.  
To check the which, in holy lawful arms,  
I, in the right of Arthur, Geoffrey's son,  
Am come before this city of Angiers,  
To bar all other false supposed claim,  
From whence, or howsoe'er the error springs.  
And in his quarrel on my princely word,  
I'll fight it out unto the latest man.  john. 
Know King of France, I will not be commanded  
By any power or prince in Christendom,  
To yield an instance how I hold mine own,  
More than to answer, that mine own is mine,  
But wilt thou see me parley with the Town,  
And hear them offer me allegiance,  
Fealty and homage, as true liege men ought.  K. Phil. 
Summon them, I will not believe it till I see it, and when I see it, I'll soon change it.  They summon the Town, the Citizens appear upon the walls. K. john 
You men of Angior, and as I take it my loyal subjects, I have summoned you to the walls: to dispute on my right, were to think you doubtful therein, which I am persuaded you are not. In few words, our brother's son, backed with the king of France, have beleaguered your town upon a false pretended title to the same: in defence whereof I your liege Lord have brought our power to fence you from the Usurper, to free your intended servitude, and utterly to supplant the foemen, to my right and your rest. Say then, who keep you the town for?  Citizen 
For our lawful King.  john 
I was no less persuaded: then in God's name open your gates, and let me enter.  Citizen 
And it please your Highness we control not your title, neither will we rashly admit your entrance: if you be lawful King, with all obedience we keep it to your use, if not King, our rashness to be impeached for yielding, without more considerate trial: we answer not as men lawless, but to the behoof of him that proves lawful.  john 
I shall not come in then?  Citizen 
No my Lord, till we know more.  K. Phil. 
Then hear me speak in the behalf of Arthur son of Geffrey, elder brother to john, his title manifest, with out contradiction, to the crown & kingdom of England, with Angiers, & divers towns on this side the sea: will you acknowledge him your liege Lord, who speaketh in my word, to entertain you with all favours, as beseemeth a King to his subjects, or a friend to his well-willers: or stand to the peril of your contempt, when his title is proved by the sword.  Citiz. 
We answer as before, till you have proved one right, we acknowledge none right, he that tries himself our Sovereign; to him will we remain firm subjects, and for him, and in his right we hold our town, as desirous to know the truth, as loath to subscribe before we know: more than this we cannot say, & more than this we dare not do.  K. Phil. 
Then john I defy thee, in the name and behalf of Arthur Plantagenet, thy king and cousin, whose right and patrimony thou detainest, as I doubt not, ere the day end, in a set battle make thee confess; whereunto, with a zeal to right, I challenge thee.  K. john. 
I accept thy challenge, and turn the defiance to thy throat.  Excursions. The Bastard chaseth Lymoges the Ostrich Duke, and maketh him leave the lions skin. Bast. 
And art thou gone misfortune haunt thy steps,  
And chill cold fear assail thy times of rest.  
Morpheus leave here thy silent Eban cave,  
Besiege his thoughts with dismal fantasies,  
And ghastly objects of pale threatening Mors.  
Affright him every minute with stern looks,  
Let shadow temper terror in his thoughts,  
And let the terror make the coward mad,  
And in his madness let him fear pursuit,  
And so in frenzy let the peasant die.  
Here is the ransom that allays his rage,  
The first freehold that Richard left his son:  
With which I shall surprise his living foes,  
As Hector's statue did the fainting greeks.  Exit. Enter the King's Heralds with Trumpets to the walls of Angiers: they summon the Town. Eng. Her. 
john by the grace of God King of England, Lord of Ireland, Anjou, Touraine, etc. demandeth once again of you his subjects of Angiers, if you will quietly surrender up the town into his hands?  Fr. Herold. 
Philip by the grace of God King of France, demandeth in the behalf of Arthur Duke of Britain, if you will surrender up the town into his hands, to the use of the said Arthur.  Citizens. 
heralds go tell the two victorious Princes, that we the poor Inhabitants of Angiers, require a parley of their Majesties.  Herold's. 
We go.  Enter the Kings, Queen Elinor, Blanch, Bastard, Lymoges, Lewis, Castilean, Pembroke, Salisbury, Constance, and Arthur Duke of Britain. john. 
Herold, what answer do the Townsmen send?  Philip. 
Will Angiers yield to Philip King of France?  Eng. Her. 
The Townsmen on the walls accept your Grace.  Fr. Her. 
And crave a parley of your Majesty.  john. 
You citizens of Angiers, have your eyes  
Beheld the slaughter that our English bows  
Have made upon the coward fraudful French?  
And have you wisely pondered therewithal  
Your gain in yielding to the English King?  Phil. 
Their loss in yielding to the English King.  
But john, they saw from out their highest towers  
The Chevaliers of France and cross-bow-shot  
Make lanes of slaughtered bodies through thine host,  
And are resolved to yield to Arthur's right.  john. 
Why Philip, though thou brav'st it fore the walls,  
Thy conscience knows that john hath won the field.  Phi. 
What ere my conscience knows, thy army feels  
That Philip had the better of the day.  Bastard. 
Philip indeed hath got the Lion's case,  
Which here he holds to Lymoges disgrace.  
Base Duke to fly and leave such spoils behind:  
But this thou knewst of force to make me stay.  
It fared with thee as with the mariner,  
Spying the huge Whale, whose monstrous bulk  
Doth bear the waves like mountains fore the wind,  
That throws out empty vessels, so to stay  
His fury, while the ship doth sail away.  
Philip 'tis thine: and fore this princely presence,  
Madam, I humbly lay it at your feet,  
Being the first adventure I achieved,  
And first exploit your Grace did me enjoin:  
Yet many more I long to be enjoined.  Blanch. 
Philip I take it, and I thee command  
To wear the same as erst thy father did:  
Therewith receive this favour at my hands,  
T'encourage thee to follow Richard's fame.  Arth. 
Ye Citizens of Angiers are ye mute?  
Arthur or john, say which shall be your King?  Citizen. 
We care not which, if once we knew the right  
But till we know, we will not yield our right.  Bast. 
Might Philip counsel two so mighty Kings,  
As are the Kings of England and of France,  
He would advise your Graces to unite  
And knit your forces 'gainst these citizens,  
Pulling their battered walls about their ears.  
The Town once won, then strive about the claim,  
For they are minded to delude you both.  Citti. 
Kings, Princes, Lords, & Knights assembled here,  
The Citizens of Angiers all by me  
Entreat your Majesty to hear them speak:  
And as you like the motion they shall make,  
So to account and follow their advice.  john. Phil. 
Speak on, we give thee leave.  Cittiz. 
Then thus: whereas the young and lusty knight▪  
Incites you on to knit your kingly strengths:  
The motion cannot choose but please the good,  
And such as love the quiet of the State.  
But how my Lords, how should your strengths be knit?  
Not to oppress your subjects and your friends,  
And fill the world with brawls and mutinies:  
But unto peace your forces should be knit  
To live in Princely league and amity:  
Do this, the gates of Angiers shall give way,  
And stand wide open to your hearts content.  
To make this peace a lasting bond of love,  
Remains one only honourable means,  
Which by your pardon I shall here display.  
Lewis the Dolphin and the heir of France,  
A man of noted valour through the world,  
Is yet unmarried: let him take to wife  
The beauteous daughter of the king of Spain,  
Niece to K. john, the lovely Lady Blanch,  
Begotten on his sister Elinor.  
With her in marriage will her uncle give  
Castles and towers, as fitteth such a match.  
The Kings thus joined in league of perfect love,  
They may so deal with Arthur Duke of Britain,  
Who is but young, and yet unmeet to reign,  
As he shall stand contented every way.  
Thus have I boldly (for the common good)  
Delivered what the City gave in charge.  
And as upon conditions you agree,  
So shall we stand content to yield the Town.  Arth. 
A proper peace, if such a motion hold;  
These Kings bear arms for me, and for my right,  
And they shall share my lands to make them friends.  Q. Elian. 
Son john, follow this motion, as thou lovest thy mother.  
Make league with Philip, yield to any thing:  
Lewis shall have my niece, and then be sure  
Arthur shall have small succour out of France.  john. 
Brother of France, you hear the Citizens:  
Then tell me, how you mean to deal herein.  Const. 
Why john, what canst thou give unto thy Niece,  
That hast no foot of land, but Arthur's right?  Lew. 
by'r lady Citizens, I like your choice,  
A lovely damsel is the Lady Blanch,  
Worthy the heir of Europe for her fere.  Const. 
What kings, why stand you gazing in a trance?  
Why how now Lords? accursed Citizens  
To fill and tickle their ambitious ears,  
With hope of gain, that springs from Arthur's loss.  
Some dismal Planet at thy birthday reigned,  
For now I see the fall of all thy hopes.  K. Phil. 
Lady, and Duke of Britain, know you both,  
The King of France respects his honour more,  
Than to betray his friends and favourers.  
Princess of Spain, could you affect my Son,  
If we upon conditions could agree?  Bast. 
'Swounds Madam, take an English Gentleman?  
Slave as I was, I thought to have moved the match.  
Grandam you made me half a promise once,  
That Lady Blanch should bring me wealth enough,  
And make me heir of store of English land.  Q. Elian. 
Peace Philip, I will look thee out a wife,  
We must with policy compound this strife.  Bastar. 
If Lewis get her, well, I say no more:  
But let the frolic Frenchman take no scorn,  
If Philip front him with an English horn.  john. 
Lady, what answer make you to the K. of France?  
Can you affect the Dolphin for your Lord?  Blanch. 
I thank the King that likes of me so well,  
To make me Bride unto so great a Prince:  
But give me leave my Lord to pause on this,  
Lest being too too forward in the cause,  
It may be blemish to my modesty.  Q. Elinor. Son john, and worthy Philip K. of France, 
Do you confer awhile about the Dower,  
And I will school my modest Niece so well,  
That she shall yield as soon as you have done.  Constance. 
ay, there's the wretch that broacheth all this ill,  
Why fly I not upon the Beldame's face,  
And with my nails pull forth her hateful eyes.  Arthur. 
Sweet mother cease these hasty madding fits:  
For my sake, let my Grandam have her will.  
O would she with her hands pull forth my heart,  
I could afford it to appease these broils.  
But (mother) let us wisely wink at all,  
Lest farther harms ensue our hasty speech.  Phil. 
Brother of England, what dowry wilt thou give  
Unto my son in marriage with thy Niece?  john. 
First Philip knows her dowry out of Spain,  
To be so great as may content a King:  
But more to mend and amplify the same,  
I give in mor ey thirty thousand marks.  
For land I leave it to thine own demand.  Phil. 
Then I demand Volquesson, Torain, Main,  
Poiteer and Anjou, these five Provinces,  
Which thou as King of England hold'st in France:  
Then shall our peace be soon concluded on.  Bast. 
No less than five such Provinces at once?  john. 
Mother what shall I do? my brother got these lands  
With much effusion of our English blood:  
And shall I give it all away at once?  Q. Elin. 
john give it him, so shalt thou live in peace,  
And keep the residue sans jeopardy.  john. 
Philip, bring forth thy son, here is my niece,  
And here in marriage I do give with her  
From me and my successors English Kings,  
Volquesson, Poiteer, Anjou, Torain, Main,  
And thirty thousand marks of stipend coin.  
Now citizens, how like you of this match?  Cittiz. 
We joy to see so sweet a peace begun.  Lewis. 
Lewis with Blanch shall ever live content.  
But now King john, what say you to the Duke?  
Father, speak as you may in his behalf.  Phil. 
K. john, be good unto thy Nephew here,  
And give him somewhat that shall please you best.  john. 
Arthur, although thou troublest England's peace  
Yet here I give thee Britain for thine own,  
Together with the Earldom of Richmont,  
And this rich city of Angiers withal,  Q. Elian. 
And if thou seek to please thine Uncle john,  
Shalt see my son how I will make of thee.  john. 
Now every thing is sorted to this end,  
Let's in, and there prepare the marriage rites,  
Which in S. Mary's Chapel presently  
Shall be performed ere this Presence part.  Exeunt. Manent Constance & Arthur. Art. 
Madam good cheer, these drooping languishments  
Add no redress to salve our awkward haps,  
If heavens have concluded these events,  
To small avail is bitter pensiveness:  
Seasons will change, and so our present grief  
May change with them, and all to our relief.  Const. 
Ah boy, thy years I see are far too green  
To look into the bottom of these cares.  
But I, who see the poised that weigheth down  
Thy weal, my wish, and all the willing means  
Wherewith thy fortune and thy fame should mount.  
What joy, what ease, what rest can lodge in me,  
With whom all hope and hap do disagree?  Arth. 
Yet Ladies tears, and cares, and solemn shows,  
Rather than helps, heap up more work for woes.  Const. 
If any power will hear a widows plaint,  
That from a wounded soul implores revenge;  
Send fell contagion to infect this clime,  
This cursed country, where the traitor's breath,  
Whose perjury (as proud Briareus,)  
Beleaguers all the Sky with misbelief.  
He promised Arthur, and he swore it too,  
To fence thy right, and check thy foe-man's pride:  
But now black-spotted Perjure as he is,  
He takes a truce with Elnor's damned brat,  
And marries Lewis to her lovely Niece,  
Sharing thy fortune, and thy birthdays gift  
Between these lovers: ill betid the match.  
And as they shoulder thee from out thine own,  
And triumph in a widows tearful cares:  
So heavens cross them with a thriftless course,  
Is all the blood yspilt on either part,  
Closing the crannies of the thirsty earth,  
Grown to a love-game and a Bridal feast?  
And must thy birthright bid the wedding banes?  
Poor helpless boy, hopeless and helpless too,  
To whom misfortune seems no yoke at all.  
Thy stay, thy state, thy imminent mishaps  
Woundeth thy mother's thoughts with feeling care,  
Why look'st thou pale? the colour flies thy face:  
I trouble now the fountain of thy youth,  
And make it muddy with my doles discourse,  
Go in with me, reply not lovely boy,  
We must obscure this moan with melody,  
Lest worser wrack ensue our malcontent.  Exeunt. Enter the King of England, the King of France, Arthur, Bastard, Lewis, Lymoges, Constance, Blanch, Chattillion, Pembroke, Salisbury, and Elinor. john. 
This is the day, the long-desired day,  
Wherein the Realms of England and of France  
Stand highly blessed in a lasting peace.  
Thrice happy is the Bridegroom and the Bride,  
From whose sweet Bridal such a concord springs,  
To make of mortal foes immortal friends.  Const. 
ungodly peace made by another's war.  Phil. 
Unhappy peace, that ties thee from revenge,  
Rouse thee Plantagenet, live not to see  
The butcher of the great Plantagenet.  
Kings, Princes, and ye Peers of either realms,  
Pardon my rashness, and forgive the zeal  
That carries me in fury to a deed  
Of high desert, of honour, and of arms.  
A boon (O Kings) a boon doth Philip beg  
Prostrate upon his knee: which knee shall cleave  
Unto the superficies of the earth,  
Till France and England grant this glorious boon.  john. 
Speak Philip, England grants thee thy request.  Phil. 
And France confirms what ere is in his power.  Bast. 
Then Duke sit fast, I level at thy head,  
Too base a ransom for my father's life.  
Princes, I crave the combat with the Duke  
That braves it in dishonour of my sire.  
Your words are past, nor can you now reverse  
The Princely promise that revives my soul,  
Whereat me thinks I see his sinews shake:  
This is the boon (dread Lords) which granted once  
Or life or death are pleasant to my soul;  
Since I shall live and die in Richard's right.  Lym. 
Base bastard, misbegotten of a King,  
To interrupt these holy nuptial rites  
With brawls and tumults to a Duke's disgrace;  
Let it suffice, I scorn to join in fight,  
With one so far unequal to myself.  Bast. 
A fine excuse, Kings if you will be Kings,  
Then keep your words, and let us combat it.  john. 
Philip, we cannot force the Duke to fight,  
Being a subject unto neither Realm:  
But tell me Austria, if an English Duke  
Should dare thee thus, wouldst thou accept the challenge?  Lym. 
Else let the world account the Ostrich Duke  
The greatest coward living on the earth.  john. 
Then cheer thee Philip, john will keep his word,  
Kneel down, in sight of Philip King of France,  
And all these Princely Lords assembled here,  
I gird thee with the sword of Normandy,  
And of that Land I do invest thee Duke:  
So shalt thou be in living and in land  
Nothing inferior unto Austria.  Lym. 
K. john, I tell thee flatly to thy face,  
Thou wrong'st mine honour: and that thou may'st see  
How much I scorn thy new made Duke and thee,  
I flatly say, I will not be compelled:  
And so farewell sir Duke of low degree,  
I'll find a time to match you for this gear.  Exit. john. 
Stay Philip, let him go, the honours thine.  Bast. 
I cannot live unless his life be mine.  Q. Elia. 
Thy forwardness this day hath joyed my soul,  
And made me think my Richard lives in thee.  K. Phil. 
Lordings let's in, and spend the wedding day  
In masks and triumphs, letting quarrels cease.  Enter a Cardinal from Rome. Card. 
Stay king of France, I charge thee join not hands  
With him that stands accursed of God and men.  
Know john, that I Pandulph Cardinal of Milan, and Legate from the Sea of Rome, demand of thee in the name of our holy Father the Pope Innocent, why thou dost (contrary to the laws of our holy mother the Church, and our holy Father the Pope) disturb the quiet of the Church, and disannul the election of Stephen Langhton, whom his holiness hath elected Archbishop of Canterbury: this in his holiness name I demand of thee?  joh. 
And what hast thou or the Pope thy master to do to demand of me, how I employ mine own? Know sir priest, as I honour the Church and holy Churchmen, so I scorn to be subject to the greatest Prelate in the world. Tell thy master so from me, and say, john of England said it, that never an Italian Priest of them all, shall either have tithe, toll, or polling penny out of England; but as I am King, so will I reign next under God, supreme head both over spiritual and temporal: and he that contradicts me in this, I'll make him hop headless.  K. Phil. 
What K. john, know you what you say, thus to blaspheme against our holy father the Pope?  joh. 
Philip, though thou and all the Princes of Christendom suffer themselves to be abused by a Prelate's slavery, my mind is not of such base temper. If the Pope will be king of England, let him win it with the sword, I know no other title he can allege to mine inheritance.  Card. 
john, this is thine answer?  john. 
What then?  Card. 
Then I Pandulph of Padua, Legate from the Apostolic Sea, do in the name of Saint Peter and his successor our holy father Pope Innocent, pronounce thee accursed, discharging every of thy subjects of all duty and fealty that they do owe to thee, and pardon and forgiveness of sin to those or them whatsoever, which shall carry arms against thee, or murder thee: This I pronounce, and charge all good men to abhor thee as an excommunicate person.  joh. 
So sir, the more the fox is cursed the better a fares: if God bless me and my Land, let the Pope and his shavelings curse and spare not.  Card. 
Furthermore, I charge thee Philip K. of France, and all the kings and princes of Christendom, to make war upon this miscreant: and whereas thou hast made a league with him, and confirmed it by oath, I do in the name of our foresaid father the Pope, acquit thee of that oath, as unlawful, being made with an heretic; how sayst thou Philip, dost thou obey?  joh. 
Brother of France, what say you to the Cardinal?  Phil. 
I say, I am sorry for your Majesty, requesting you to submit yourself to the Church of Rome.  joh. 
And what say you to our league, if I do not submit?  Phil. 
What should I say? I must obey the Pope.  joh. 
Obey the Pope, and break your oath to God?  Phil. 
The Legate hath absolved me of mine oath:  
Then yield to Rome, or I defy thee here.  joh. 
Why Philip, I defy the Pope and thee,  
False as thou art, and perjured King of France,  
Unworthy man to be accounted King.  
giv'st thou thy sword into a Prelate's hands?  
Pandulph, where I of Abbots, Monks, and Friars  
Have taken somewhat to maintain my wars,  
Now will I take no more but all they have.  
I'll rouse the lazy lubbers from their cells,  
And in despite I'll send them to the Popc.  
Mother come you with me, and for the rest  
That will not follow john in this attempt,  
Confusion light upon their damned souls.  
Come Lords, fight for your K. that fighteth for your good  Phil. 
And are they gone? Pandulph thyself shalt see  
How France will fight for Rome and Romish rites.  
Nobles to arms, let him not pass the seas,  
Let's take him captive, and in triumph lead  
The K. of England to the gates of Rome.  
Arthur bestir thee man, and thou shalt see  
What Philip K. of France will do for thee.  Blanch. 
And will your Grace upon your wedding day  
Forsake your bride, and follow dreadful drums?  
Nay, good my Lord, stay you at home with me.  Lew. 
Sweet heart content thee, and we shall agree.  Phil. 
Follow my Lords, Lord Cardinal lead the way,  
Drums shallbe music to this wedding day.  Exeunt. Excursions. The Bastard pursues Austria, and kills him. Bast. 
Thus hath K. Richard's son performed his vows,  
And offered Austria's blood for sacrifice  
Unto his father's everliving soul.  
Brave Cordelion, now my heart doth say,  
I have deserved, though not to be thine heir,  
Yet as I am, thy base begotten son,  
A name as pleasing to thy Philip's heart,  
As to be called the Duke of Normandy.  
Lie there a prey to every ravening fowl:  
And as my father triumphed in thy spoils,  
And trod thine Ensigns underneath his feet,  
So do I tread upon thy cursed self,  
And leave thy body to the fowls for food.  Exit. Excursions. Arthur, Constance, Lewis, having taken Q. Elinor prisoner. Const. 
Thus hath the God of kings with conquering arm  
Dispersed the foes to true succession,  
Proud, and disturber of thy Country's peace,  
Constance doth live to tame thine insolence,  
And on thy head will now avenged be  
For all the mischiefs hatched in thy brain.  Q. Elinor. 
Contemptuous Dame, unreverent Duchess thou,  
To brave so great a Queen as Elinor,  
Base scold, hast thou forgot, that I was wife  
And mother to three mighty English Kings?  
I charge thee then, and you forsooth sir boy,  
To set your Grandmother at liberty,  
And yield to john your Uncle and your King.  Const. 
'tis not thy words proud Queen shall carry it.  Elin. 
Nor yet thy threats proud Dame shall daunt my mind.  Arth. 
Sweet Grandam, and good mother leave these brawls.  Elian. 
I'll find a time to triumph in thy fall.  Const. 
My time is now to triumph in thy fall,  
And thou shalt know that Constance will triumph.  Arthur. 
Good mother, weigh it is Queen Elinor,  
Though she be captive, use her like herself.  
Sweet Grandam bear with what my Mother says,  
Your Highness shall be used honourably.  Enter a messenger. Mess. 
Lewis my Lord, Duke Arthur, and the rest,  
To arms in haste, K. john relies his men,  
And gins the sight afresh: and swears withal  
To lose his life, or set his mother free.  Lewis. 
Arthur away, 'tis time to look about.  Eli. 
Why how now dame, what is your courage cooled?  Const. 
No Elinor my courage gathers strength,  
And hopes to lead both john and thee as slaves:  
And in that hope, I hale thee to the field.  Exeunt. Excursions. Elinor is rescued by john, and Arthur is taken prisoner. Exeunt. Sound victory. Enter john, Elinor, and Arthur prisoner, Bastard, Pembroke, Salisbury, and Hubert de Burgh. john 
Thus right triumphs, and john triumphs in right:  
Arthur thou seest, France cannot bolster thee:  
Thy mother's pride hath brought thee to this fall.  
But if at last nephew thou yield thyself  
Into the guard of thine uncle john,  
Thou shalt be used as becomes a Prince.  Arthur 
Uncle, my grandam taught her nephew this,  
To bear captivity with patience.  
Might hath prevailed, not right, for I am King  
Of England, though thou wear the Diadem.  Q. Elin. 
Son john, soon shall we teach him to forget  
These proud presumptions, and to know himself.  john 
Mother, he never will forget his claim,  
I would he lived not to remember it.  
But leaving this, we will to England now,  
And take some order with our Popelings there,  
That swell with pride and fat of lay men's lands.  
Philip, I make thee chief in this affair,  
Ransack the Abbeys, Cloisters, Priories,  
Convert their coin unto my soldiers use:  
And whatsoe'er he be within my Land,  
That goes to Rome for justice and for law,  
While he may have his right within the Realm,  
Let him be judged a traitor to the State,  
And suffer as an enemy to England.  
Mother, we leave you here beyond the seas,  
As Regent of our Provinces in France,  
While we to England take a speedy course,  
And thank our God that gave us victory.  
Hubert de Burgh take Arthur here to thee,  
Be he thy prisoner: Hubert keep him safe,  
For on his life doth hang thy Sovereign's Crown,  
But in his death consists thy Sovereign's bliss:  
Then Hubert, as thou shortly hearst from me,  
So use the prisoner I have given in charge.  Hubert 
Frolic young prince, though I your keeper be,  
Yet shall your keeper live at your command.  Arthur 
As please my God, so shall become of me.  Q. Elian. 
My son, to England, I will see thee shipped,  
And pray to God to send thee safe ashore.  Bastard 
Now wars are done, I long to be at home,  
To dive into the Monks and Abbot's bags,  
To make some sport among the smooth skinned Nuns,  
And keep some revel with the fanzen Friars.  john 
To England Lords, each look unto your charge,  
And arm yourselves against the Roman pride.  Exeunt. Enter the King of France, jews his son, Cardinal Pandolph Legate, and Constance. Philip 
What, every man attached with this mishap?  
Why frown you so, why droop ye Lords of France?  
Me thinks it differs from a warlike mind,  
To lower it for a check or two of Chance.  
Had Lymoges escaped the Bastard's spite,  
A little sorrow might have served our loss.  
Brave Austria, heaven joys to have thee there.  Card. 
His soul is safe and free from Purgatory▪  
Our holy Father hath dispensed his sins,  
The blessed Saints have heard our Orisons,  
And all are mediators for his soul,  
And in the right of these most holy wars,  
His Holiness free pardon doth pronounce  
To all that follow you 'gainst English heretics,  
Who stand accursed in our mother Church.  Enter Constance alone. Philip. 
To aggravate the measure of our grief,  
All malcontent comes Constance for her Son.  
Be brief good Madam, for your face imports  
A tragic tale behind that's yet untold.  
Her passions stop the organ of her voice,  
Deep sorrow throbbeth misbefallen events,  
Out with it Lady, that our Act may end  
A full Catastrophe of sad laments.  Constance. 
My tongue is tuned to story forth mishap:  
When did I breath to tell a pleasing tale?  
Must Constance speak? let tears prevent her talk:  
Must I discourse? let Dido sigh and say,  
She weeps again to hear the wrack of Troy:  
Two words will serve, and then my tale is done:  
Elnor's proud brat hath robbed me of my son.  Lewis. 
Have patience Madam, this is chance of war:  
He may be ransomed, we revenge his wrong.  Const. 
Be it ne'er so soon, I shall not live so long.  Phil. 
Despair not yet, come Constance, go with me,  
These clouds will fleet, the day will clear again.  Exeunt. Card. 
Now Lewis, thy fortune buds with happy spring,  
Our holy Father's prayers effecteth this.  
Arthur is safe, let john alone with him,  
Thy title next is fairest to England's Crown:  
Now stir thy father to begin with john,  
The Pope says I, and so is Albion thine.  Lewis. 
Thanks my Lord Legate for your good conceit,  
'tis best we follow now the game is fair,  
My father wants to work him your good words.  Card. 
A few will serve to forward him in this,  
Those shall not want: but let's about it then.  Exeunt. Enter Philip leading a Friar, charging him show where the Abbot's gold lay. Phil. 
Come on you fat Franciscan, dally no longer, but show me where the Abbot's treasure lies, or die.  Friar. 
Benedicamus Domini, was ever such an injury▪  
Sweet S. Withold of thy lenity, defend us from extremity,  
And hear us for S. Charity, oppressed with austerity.  
In nomini Domini, make I my homily,  
Gentle gentility grieve not the Clergy.  Phil. 
Gray-gowned good face, conjure ye,  
near trust me for a groat  
If this waste girdle hang thee not  
that girdeth in thy coat.  
Now bald and barefoot Bungie birds,  
when up the gallows climbing,  
Say Philip he had words enough,  
to put you down with rhyming.  Fr. 
O pardon, O parce, S. Francis for mercy,  
Shall shield thee from night-spells, and dreaming of devils,  
If thou wilt forgive me, and never more grieve me,  
With fasting and praying, and Hail Marie saying,  
From black Purgatory, a penance right sorry:  
Friar Thomas will warm you,  
It shall never harm you.  Phil. 
Come leave off your rabble,  
Sirs, hang up this lozel.  2. Fr. 
For charity I beg his life,  
Saint Francis chiefest Friar,  
The best in all our Covent sir,  
to keep a Vintner's fire.  
O strangle not the good old man,  
my hostess oldest guest,  
And I will bring you by and by  
unto the Prior's chest.  Phil. 
ay, sayst thou so, & if thou wilt the Friar is at liberty,  
If not, as I am honest man, I hang you both for company.  
Fr. Come hither, this is the chest, though simple to behold,  
That wanteth not a thousand pound in silver and in gold.  
Myself will warrant full so much, I know the Abbot's store,  
I'll pawn my life there is no less, to have what ere is more.  Phil. 
I take thy word, the overplus unto thy share shall come,  
But if there want of full so much, thy neck shall pay the sum.  
Break up the Coffer, Friar.  Friar 
Oh I am undone, fair Alice the Nun  
Hath took up her rest in the Abbot's chest.  
Sancte benedicite, pardon my simplicity.  
Fie Alice, confession will not salve this transgression.  Philip 
What have we here, a holy Nun? so keep me God in health.  
A smooth faced Nun (for aught I know) is all the Abbot's wealth.  
Is this the Nunneries chastity?  
Beshrew me but I think  
They go as oft to venery as niggards to their drink.  
Why paltry Friar and Pandarus too, ye shameless shaven crown,  
Is this the chest that held a hoard,  
at least a thousand pound?  
And is the hoard a holy whore?  
well, be the hangman nimble,  
he'll take the pain to pay you home,  
and teach you to dissemble.  
Nun O spare the Friar Anthony,  
a better never was  
To sing a Dirige solemnly,  
or read a morning mass.  
If money be the means of this,  
I know an ancient Nun,  
That hath a hoard these seven years,  
did never see the sun;  
And that is yours, and what is ours,  
so favour now be shown,  
You shall command as commonly,  
as if it were your own.  Friar 
Your honour excepted.  Nun 
I Thomas, I mean so.  Philip 
From all save from Friars.  Nun 
Good sir, do not think so.  Philip 
I think and see so:  
why how camest thou here?  Friar 
To hide her from lay men.  Nun 
'tis true sir, for fear.  Philip 
For fear of the laity: a pitiful dread  
When a Nun flies for succour to a fat friars bed.  
But now for your ransom my cloister-bred coney,  
To the chest that you speak of where lies so much money.  Nun 
Fair sir, within this press, of plate and money is  
The value of a thousand marks, and other thing by gis.  
Let us alone, and take it all, 'tis yours sir, now you know it.  Phi. 
Come on sir Friar, pick the lock, this gear doth cotton handsome,  
That covetousness so cunningly must pay the lechers ransom.  
What is in the hoard?  Friar 
Friar Laurence my Lord, now holy water help us,  
Some witch or some devil is sent to delude us:  
Haud credo Laurentius, that thou shouldst be penned thus  
In the press of a Nun we are all undone,  
And brought to discredence if thou be Friar Laurence,  Friar 
Amor vincit omnia, so Cato affirmeth,  
And therefore a Friar whose fancy soon burneth,  
Because he is mortal and made of mould,  
He omits what he ought, and doth more than he should.  Philip 
How goes this gear? the friars chest filled with  
a fausen Nun.  
The Nun again locks Friar up,  
to keep him from the Sun.  
Belike the press is Purgatory,  
or penance passing grievous:  
The friars chest a hell for Nuns!  
how do these dolts deceive us?  
Is this the labour of their lives, to feed and live at ease?  
To revel so lasciviously as often as they please.  
I'll mend the fault or fault my aim,  
if I do miss amending,  
'tis better burn the Cloisters down,  
than leave them for offending.  
But holy you, to you I speak,  
to you religious devil,  
Is this the press that holds the sum,  
to quit you for your evil?  Nun. 
I cry peccavi, parce me,  
good sir I was beguiled.  Fr. 
Absolve sir for charity,  
she would be reconciled.  Phil. 
And so I shall, sirs bind them fast,  
This is their absolution,  
go hang them up for hurting them,  
Haste them to execution.  Fr. Laurence. 
O tempus edax rerum,  
Give children books they tear them.  
O vanitas vanitatis, in this waning aetatis,  
At threescore well-near, to go to this gear,  
To my conscience a clog, to die like a dog.  
Exaudi me Domine, sivis me parce  
Dabo pecuniam, si habeo veniam.  
To go and fetch it, I will dispatch it,  
A hundred pound sterling, for my lives sparing.  Enter Peter a Prophet, with people. Pet. 
Hoe, who is here? S. Francis be your speed,  
Come in my flock, and follow me,  
your fortunes I will read.  
Come hither boy, go get thee home,  
and climb not over high,  
For from aloft thy fortune stands, in hazard thou shalt die.  Boy. 
God be with you Peter, I pray you come to our house a Sunday.  Pet. 
My boy show me thy hand, bless thee my boy,  
For in thy palm I see a many troubles are ybent to dwell,  
But thou shalt scape them all, and do full well.  Boy 
I thank you Peter, there's a cheese for your labour: my sister prays ye to come home, and tell her how many husbands she shall have, and she'll give you a rib of bacon.  Peter 
My masters, stay at the towns end for me, I'll come to you all anon: I must dispatch some business with a Friar, and then I'll read your fortunes.  Philip 
How now, a prophet! sir prophet whence are ye?  Peter 
I am of the world and in the world, but live not as others, by the world: what I am I know, and what thou wilt be I know. If thou knowest me now, be answered: if not, inquire no more what I am.  Phil. 
Sir, I know you will be a dissembling knave, that deludes the people with blind prophecies: you are he I look for, you shall away with me: bring away all the rabble, and you Friar Laurence, remember your ransom a hundred pound, and a pardon for yourself, and the rest; come on sir prophet, you shall with me, to receive a prophet's reward.  Exeunt. Enter Hubert de Burgh with three men. Hubert 
My masters, I have showed you what warrant I have for this attempt; I perceive by your heavy countenances, you had rather be otherwise employed, and for my own part, I would the King had made choice of some other executioner: only this is my comfort, that a king commands, whose precepts neglected or omitted, threateneth torture for the default. Therefore in brief, leave me, and be ready to attend the adventure: stay within that entry, and when you hear me cry, God save the King, issue suddenly forth, lay hands on Arthur, set him in this chair, wherein (once fast bound) leave him with me to finish the rest.  Attendants 
We go, though loath.  Exeunt. Hubert 
My Lord, will it please your Honour to take the benefit of the fair evening?  Enter Arthur to Hubert de Burgh. Arthur 
Gramercy Hubert for thy care of me,  
In or to whom restraint is newly known,  
The joy of walking is small benefit,  
Yet will I take thy offer with small thanks,  
I would not lose the pleasure of the eye.  
But tell me courteous Keeper if thou can,  
How long the King will have me tarry here.  Hubert 
I know not Prince, but as I guess, not long.  
God send you freedom, and God save the King.  They issue forth. Arthur 
Why how now sirs, what may this outrage mean?  
O help me Hubert, gentle Keeper help:  
God send this sudden mutinous approach  
Tend not to reave a wretched guiltless life.  Hubert 
So sirs, depart, and leave the rest for me.  Arth. 
Then Arthur yield, death frowneth in thy face,  
What meaneth this? good Hubert plead the case.  Hubert 
Patience young Lord, and listen words of woe,  
Harmful and harsh, hell's horror to be heard:  
A dismal tale fit for a fury's tongue.  
I faint to tell, deep sorrow is the sound.  Arthur 
What, must I die?  Hubert 
No news of death, but tidings of more hate,  
A wrathful doom, and most unlucky fate:  
Death's dish were dainty at so fell a feast,  
Be deaf, hear not, its hell to tell the rest.  Arthur 
Alas, thou wrong'st my youth with words of fear,  
'tis hell, 'tis horror, not for one to hear:  
What is it man if it must needs be done,  
Act it, and end it, that the pain were gone.  Hubert 
I will not chant such dolour with my tongue,  
Yet must I act the outrage with my hand.  
My heart, my head, and all my powers beside,  
To aid the office have at once denied.  
Peruse this Letter, lines of treble woe,  
Read over my charge, and pardon when you know.  
Hubert, these are to command thee, as thou tenderest our quiet in mind, and the estate of our person, that presently upon the receipt of our command, thou put out the eyes of Arthur Plantagenet.  Arthur 
Ah monstrous damned man! his very breath infects the elements.  
Contagious venom dwelleth in his heart,  
Effecting means to poison all the world.  
unreverent may I be to blame the heavens  
Of great injustice, that the miscreant  
lives to oppress the innocents with wrong.  
Ah Hubert! makes he thee his instrument,  
To sound the trump that causeth hell triumph?  
Heaven weeps, the Saints do shed celestial tears,  
They fear thy fall, and cite thee with remorse,  
They knock thy conscience, moving pity there,  
Willing to fence thee from the rage of hell:  
Hell Hubert, trust me all the plagues of hell  
Hangs on performance of this damned deed.  
This scale, the warrant of the body's bliss,  
Ensureth Satan chieftain of thy soul:  
Subscribe not Hubert, give not God's part away.  
I speak not only for eyes privilege,  
The chief exterior that I would enjoy:  
But for thy peril, far beyond my pain,  
Thy sweet soul's loss, more than my eyes vain lack:  
A cause internal, and eternal too.  
Advise thee Hubert, for the case is hard,  
To loose salvation for a King's reward.  Hubert 
My Lord, a subject dwelling in the land  
Is tied to execute the King's command.  Arthur 
Yet God commands whose power reacheth further,  
That no command should stand in force to murder.  Hubert 
But that same Essence hath ordained a law,  
A death for guilt, to keep the world in awe.  Arthur 
I plead, not guilty, treasonless and free.  Hubert 
But that appeal my Lord concerns not me.  Arthur 
Why thou art he that mayst omit the peril.  Hubert 
ay, if my Sovereign would omit his quarrel.  Arthur 
His quarrel is unhallowed false and wrong.  Hubert 
Then be the blame to whom it doth belong.  Arthur 
Why that's to thee if thou as they proceed,  
Conclude their judgement with so vile a deed.  Hubert 
Why then no execution can be lawful,  
If judges dooms must be reputed doubtful.  Arthur 
Yes where in form of Law in place and time,  
The offender is convicted of the crime.  Hubert 
My Lord, my Lord, this long expostulation,  
Heaps up more grief, than promise of redress;  
For this I know, and so resolved I end,  
That subjects lives on Kings commands depend.  
I must not reason why he is your foe,  
But do his charge since he commands it so.  Arthur 
Then do thy charge, and charged be thy soul  
With wrongful persecution done this day.  
You rolling eyes, whose superficies yet  
I do behold with eyes that Nature lent:  
Send forth the terror of your movers frown,  
To wreak my wrong upon the murderers  
That rob me of your fair reflecting view:  
Let hell to them (as earth they wish to me)  
Be dark and direful guerdon for their guilt,  
And let the black tormentors of deep Tartary  
Upbraid them with this damned enterprise,  
Inflicting change of tortures on their souls.  
Delay not Hubert, my orisons are ended,  
Begin I pray thee, reave me of my sight:  
But to perform a tragedy indeed,  
Conclude the period with a mortal stab.  
Constance farewell, tormenter come away,  
Make my dispatch the Tyrants feasting day.  Hubert 
I faint, I fear, my conscience bids desist:  
Faint did I say? fear was it that I named:  
My King commands, that warrant sets me free:  
But God forbids, and he commandeth Kings,  
That great Commander counterchecks my charge,  
He stays my hand, he maketh soft my heart.  
Go cursed tools, your office is exempt,  
Cheer thee young Lord, thou shalt not lose an eye,  
Though I should purchase it with loss of life.  
I'll to the King, and say his will is done,  
And of the languor tell him thou art dead,  
Go in with me, for Hubert was not borne  
To blind those lamps that Nature polished so.  Arthur 
Hubert, if ever Arthur be in state,  
Look for amends of this received gift,  
I took my eyesight by thy courtesy,  
Thou lentest them me, I will not be ingrate.  
But now procrastination may offend  
The issue that thy kindness undertakes:  
Depart we Hubert to prevent the worst.  Exeunt. Enter K. john, Essex, Salisbury, Pembroke. john 
Now warlike followers, resteth aught undone  
That may impeach us of fond oversight?  
The French have felt the temper of our swords,  
Cold terror keeps possession in their souls,  
Checking their over-daring arrogance  
For buckling with so great an overmatch,  
The arch proud titled Priest of Italy,  
That calls himself grand Vicar under God,  
Is busied now with trental obsequies,  
Mass and months mind, dirge and I know not what,  
To ease their souls in painful purgatory,  
That have miscarried in these bloody wars.  
Heard you not Lords when first his Holiness  
Had tidings of our small account of him,  
How with a taunt vaunting upon his toes,  
He urged a reason why the English Ass  
Disdained the blessed ordinance of Rome?  
The title (reverently might I infer)  
Became the Kings that erst have borne the load,  
The slavish weight of that controlling Priest:  
Who at his pleasure tempered them like wax  
To carry arms on danger of his curse,  
Banding their souls with warrants of his hand▪  
I grieve to think how Kings in ages past  
(Simply devoted to the Sea of Rome)  
Have run into a thousand acts of shame.  
But now for confirmation of our State,  
Sith we have pruned the more than needful branch  
That did oppress the true well-growing stock,  
It resteth we throughout our Territories  
Be reproclaimed and invested King.  Pemb. 
My Liege, that were to busy men with doubts,  
Once were you crowned, proclaimed, and with applause  
Your city streets have echoed to the ear,  
God save the King, God save our Sovereign john.  
Pardon my fear, my censure doth infer  
Your Highness not deposed from regal State,  
Would breed a mutiny in people's minds,  
What it should mean to have you crowned again.  john 
Pembroke, perform what I have bid thee do,  
Thou know'st not what induceth me to this.  
Essex go in, and Lordings all be gone  
About this task, I will be crowned anon.  Enter the Bastard. Philip 
What news, how do the Abbot's chests?  
Are Friars fatter than the Nuns are fair?  
What cheer with Churchmen, had they gold or no?  
Tell me, how hath thy office took effect?  Phil. 
My Lord, I have performed your highness charge:  
The ease-bred Abbots, and the barefoot Friars,  
The Monks, the Priors, and holy cloistered Nuns,  
Are all in health, and were my Lord in wealth,  
Till I had tithed and told their holy hoards.  
I doubt not when your Highness sees my prize,  
You may proportion all their former pride.  john 
Why so, now sorts it Philip as it should:  
This small intrusion into Abbey trunks,  
Will make the Popelings excommunicate,  
Curse, ban, and breath out damned orisons,  
As thick as hailstones fore the Spring's approach:  
But yet as harmless and without effect,  
As is the echo of a Cannons crack  
Discharged against the battlements of heaven.  
But what news else befell there Philip?  Bast. 
Strange news my Lord: within your territories  
Near Pomfret is a prophet new sprung up,  
Whose divination volleys wonders forth:  
To him the Commons throng with Country gifts,  
He sets a date unto the Beldames death,  
Prescribes how long the Virgin's state shall last,  
Distinguisheth the moving of the heavens,  
Gives limits unto holy nuptial rites,  
Foretelleth famine, aboundeth plenty forth:  
Of fate, of fortune, life and death he chats,  
With such assurance, scruples put apart,  
As if he knew the certain dooms of heaven,  
Or kept a Register of all the Destinies.  joh. 
Thou tellest me marvels, would thou hadst brought the man,  
We might have questioned him of things to come.  Bastard 
My Lord, I took a care of had-I-wist,  
And brought the prophet with me to the Court,  
He stays my Lord but at the Presence door:  
Pleaseth your Highness, I will call him in.  john 
Nay stay awhile, we'll have him here anon,  
A thing of weight is first to be performed.  Enter the Nobles and crown King john, and then cry God save the King. john 
Lordings and friends supporters of our State,  
Admire not at this unaccustomd course,  
Nor in your thoughts blame not this deed of yours.  
Once ere this time was I invested King,  
Your fealty sworn as Liegemen to our state:  
Once since that time ambitious weeds have sprung  
To stain the beauty of our garden plot:  
But heavens in our conduct rooting thence  
The false intruders, breakers of world's peace,  
Have to our joy, made sunshine chase the storm.  
After the which, to try your constancy,  
That now I see is worthy of your names,  
We craved once more your helps for to invest us  
Into the right that envy sought to wrack.  
Once was I not deposed, your former choice;  
Now twice been crowned and applauded King?  
Your cheered action to install me so,  
Infers assured witness of your loves,  
And binds me over in a Kingly care  
To render love with love, rewards of worth  
To balance down requital to the full.  
But thanks the while, thanks Lordings to you all:  
Ask me and use me, try me and find me yours.  Essex 
A boon my Lord, at vantage of your words  
We ask to guerdon all our loyalties.  Pemb. 
We take the time your Highness bids us ask:  
Please it you grant, you make your promise good,  
With lesser loss than one superfluous hair  
That not remembered falleth from your head.  john 
My word is past, receive your boon my Lords,  
What may it be? Ask it, and it is yours.  Ess. 
We crave my Lord, to please the Commons with  
The liberty of Lady Constance son:  
Whose durance darkeneth your highness right,  
As if you kept him prisoner, to the end  
Yourself were doubtful of the thing you have.  
Dismiss him thence, your Highness needs not fear,  
Twice by consent you are proclaimed our King.  Pemb. 
This if you grant, were all unto your good:  
For simple people muse you keep him close.  joh. 
Your words have searched the centre of my thoughts,  
Confirming warrant of your loyalties,  
Dismiss your counsel, sway my state,  
Let john do nothing, but by your consents.  
Why how now Philip, what ecstasy is this?  
Why casts thou up thy eyes to heaven so?  There the five Moons appear. Bast. 
See, see my Lord, strange apparitions,  
Glancing mine eye to see the Diadem  
Placed by the Bishops on your highness head,  
From forth a gloomy cloud, which curtain-like  
Displayed itself, I suddenly espied  
Five Moons reflecting, as you see them now:  
Even in the moment that the crown was placed  
Can they appear, holding the course you see.  joh. 
What might portend these apparitions,  
Unusual signs, forerunners of event,  
Presages of strange terrors to the world:  
Believe me Lords, the object fears me much.  
Philip thou toldst me of a Wizard but of late,  
Fetch in the man to descant of this show.  Pemb. 
The heavens frown upon the sinful earth,  
When with prodigious unaccustomed signs  
They spot their superficies with such wonder.  Essex. 
Before the ruins of jerusalem,  
Such meteors were the Ensigns of his wrath,  
That hastened to destroy the faultful town.  Enter the Bastard with the Prophet. john. 
Is this the man?  Bast. 
It is my Lord.  john. 
Prophet of Pomfret, for so I hear thou art,  
That calculat'st of many things to come:  
Who by a power replete with heavenly gift,  
Canst blab the counsel of thy Maker's will.  
If fame be true, or truth be wronged by thee,  
Decide in ciphering, what these five moons  
Portend this clime, if they presage at all.  
Breath out thy gift, and if I live to see  
Thy divination take a true effect,  
I'll honour thee above all earthly men.  Pet. 
The sky wherein these moons have residence,  
Presenteth Rome the great Metropolis,  
Where sits the Pope in all his holy pomp.  
Four of the moons present four provinces,  
To wit, Spain, Denmark, Germany, and France,  
That bear the yoke of proud commanding Rome,  
And stand in fear to tempt the Prelate's curse.  
The smallest moon that whirls about the rest,  
Impatient of the place he holds with them,  
Doth figure forth this Island Albion,  
Who 'gins to scorn the sea and seat of Rome,  
And seeks to shun the Edicts of the Pope:  
This shows the heaven, and this I do aver  
Is figured in the apparitions.  joh. 
Why then it seems the heavens smile on us,  
Giving applause for leaving of the Pope.  
But for they chance in our Meridian,  
Do they effect no private growing ill  
To be inflicted on us in this clime?  Pet. 
The moons effect no more than what I said:  
But on some other knowledge that I have  
By my prescience, ere Ascension day  
Have brought the Sun unto his usual height,  
Of Crown, Estate, and Royal dignity,  
Thou shalt be clean despoiled and dispossessed.  joh. 
False dreamer, perish with thy witched news,  
Villain thou woundst me with thy fallacies:  
If it be true, die for thy tidings price;  
If false, for fearing me with vain suppose:  
Hence with the Witch, hell's damned secretary.  
Lock him up sure: for by my faith I swear,  
True or not true, the Wizard shall not live.  
Before Ascension day: who should be cause hereof?  
Cut off the cause, and then the effect will die.  
Tut, tut, my mercy serves to maim myself,  
The root doth live, from whence these thorns spring up,  
I and my promise passed for his delivery:  
Frown friends, fail faith, the devil go withal,  
The brat shall die, that terrifies me thus.  
Pembroke and Essex, I recall my grant,  
I will not buy your favours with my fear:  
Nay murmur not, my will is law enough▪  
I love you well, but if I loved you better,  
I would not buy it with my discontent.  Enter Hubert. 
How now, what news with thee?  Hub. 
According to your highness strict command,  
Young Arthur's eyes are blinded and extinct.  joh. 
Why so, than he may feel the crown, but never see it.  Hub. 
Nor see nor feel, for of the extreme pain,  
Within one hour gave he up the ghost.  joh. 
What is he dead?  Hub. 
He is my Lord.  joh. 
Then with him dies my cares.  Essex. 
Now joy betid thy soul.  Pemb. 
And heavens revenge thy death.  Essex. 
What have you done my Lord? Was ever heard  
A deed of more inhuman consequence?  
Your foes will curse, your friends will cry revenge.  
Unkindly rage, more rough than Northern wind;  
To clip the beauty of so sweet a flower.  
What hope in us for mercy on a fault,  
When kinsman dies without impeach of cause,  
As you have done, so come to cheer you with,  
The guilt shall never be cast me in my teeth.  Exeunt. joh. 
And are you gone? The devil be your guide:  
Proud rebels as ye are, to brave me so:  
Saucy, uncivil, checkers of my will.  
Your tongues give edge unto the fatal knife,  
That shall have passage through your traitorous throats.  
But hushed, breathe not bugs words too soon abroad,  
Lest time prevent the issue of thy reach.  
Arthur is dead, I there the corzie grows:  
But while he lived, the danger was the more;  
His death hath freed me from a thousand fears,  
But it hath purchased me ten times ten thousand foes.  
Why all is one, such luck shall haunt his game,  
To whom the devil owes an open shame:  
His life a foe that leveled at my crown,  
His death a frame to pull my building down.  
My thoughts harped still on quiet by his end,  
Who living aimed shrewdly at my room:  
But to prevent that plea, twice was I crowned,  
Twice did my subjects swear me fealty,  
And in my conscience loved me as their liege,  
In whose defence they would have pawned their lives.  
But now they shun me as a Serpent's sting,  
A tragic tyrant, stern and pitiless,  
And not a title follows after john,  
But butcher, bloodsucker, and murderer.  
What planet governed my nativity,  
To bode me sovereign types of high estate,  
So interlaced with hellish discontent,  
Wherein fell fury hath no interest?  
Cursed be the crown, chief author of my care,  
Nay cursed my will, that made the crown my care:  
Cursed be my birthday, cursed ten times the womb  
That yielded me alive into the world.  
Art thou there villain, furies haunt thee still,  
For killing him whom all the world laments.  Hub. 
Why here's my Lord your highness hand & seal,  
Charging on lives regard to do the deed.  john 
Ah dull conceited peasant, know'st thou not  
It was a damned execrable deed?  
Showst me a Seal? Oh villain, both our souls  
Have sold their freedom to the thrall of hell,  
Under the warrant of that cursed Seal.  
Hence villain, hang thyself, and say in hell  
That I am coming for a kingdom there.  Hubert 
My Lord, attend the happy tale I tell,  
For heavens health send Satan packing hence  
That instigates your Highness to despair.  
If Arthur's death be dismal to be heard,  
Bandy the news for rumours of untruth:  
He lives my Lord, the sweetest youth alive,  
In health, with eye sight, not a hair amiss.  
This heart took vigour from this forward hand,  
Making it weak to execute your charge.  john 
What, lives he! Then sweet hope come home again,  
Chase hence despair, the purveyor for hell.  
high Hubert, tell these tidings to my Lords  
That throb in passions for young Arthur's death:  
Hence Hubert, stay not till thou hast revealed  
The wished news of Arthur's happy health.  
I go myself, the joyfull'st man alive  
To story out this new supposed crime.  Exeunt. 
The end of the first Part.   

To the Gentlemen Readers.  
THe changeless purpose of determined Fate  
Gives period to our care, or hearts content,  
When heavens fixed time for this or that hath end:  
Nor can earth's pomp or policy prevent  
The doom ordained in their secret will.  
Gentles, we left King john replete with bliss  
That Arthur lived, whom he supposed slain;  
And Hubert posting to return those Lords,  
Who deemed him dead, and parted discontent:  
Arthur himself begins our latter Act,  
Our Act of outrage, desperate fury, death;  
Wherein fond rashness murdereth first a Prince,  
And Monkish falseness poisoneth last a King,  
First Scene shows Arthur's death in infancy,  
And last concludes john's fatal tragedy.   

The second part of The troublesome Reign of King john. Containing The entrance of Lewis the French Kings son: With the poisoning of King john by a Monk.  Enter young Arthur on the walls. 
NOw help good hap to further mine intent,  
Cross not my youth with any more extremes:  
I venture life to gain my liberty,  
And if I die, world's troubles have an end.  
Fear gins dissuade the strength of my resolve,  
My hold will fail, and then alas I fall,  
And if I fall, no question death is next:  
Better desist, and live in prison still.  
Prison said I? nay, rather death than so:  
Comfort and courage come again to me,  
I'll venture sure: 'tis but a leap for life.  He leaps, and bruising his bones, after he was from his trance, speaks thus; 
Hoe, who is nigh? some body take me up.  
Where is my mother? let me speak with her.  
Who hurts me thus? speak hoe, where are you gone?  
Ay me poor Arthur, I am here alone.  
Why called I mother, how did I forget?  
My fall, my fall, hath killed my mother's son.  
How will she weep at tidings of my death?  
My death indeed, O God, my bones are burst.  
Sweet jesu save my soul, forgive my rash attempt,  
Comfort my mother, shield her from despair,  
When she shall hear my tragic overthrow.  
My heart controls the office of my tongue,  
My vital powers forsake my bruised trunk,  
I die I die, heaven take my fleeting soul,  
And Lady mother all good hap to thee.  He dies. Enter Pembroke, Salisbury, Essex. Essex. 
My Lords of Pembroke and of Salisbury,  
We must be careful in our policy,  
To undermine the keepers of this place,  
Else shall we never find the Prince's grave.  Pemb. 
My Lord of Essex, take no care for that,  
I warrant you it was not closely done.  
But who is this? lo Lords the withered flower,  
Who in his life shined like the Morning's blush,  
Cast out a door, denied his burial right,  
A prey for birds and beasts to gorge upon.  Salisb. 
O ruthful spectacle! O damned deed!  
My sinews shake, my very heart doth bleed.  Essex. 
Leave childish tears brave Lords of England,  
If water-floods could fetch his life again,  
My eyes should conduit forth a sea of tears.  
If sobs would help, or sorrows serve the turn,  
My heart should volley out deep piercing plaints.  
But bootless were't to breathe as many sighs  
As might eclipse the brightest summers sun,  
Here rests the help, a service to his ghost.  
Let not the tyrant causer of this dole,  
Live to triumph in ruthful massacres,  
Give hand and heart, and Englishmen to arms,  
'tis God's decree to wreak us of these harms.  Pemb. 
The best advice: But who comes posting here?  Enter Hubert. 
Right noble Lords, I speak unto you all,  
The King entreats your soonest speed  
To visit him, who on your present want,  
Did ban and curse his birth, himself and me,  
For executing of his strict command.  
I saw his passion, and at fittest time,  
Assured him of his cousins being safe,  
Whom pity would not let me do to death:  
He craves your company my Lords in haste,  
To whom I will conduct young Arthur straight,  
Who is in health under my custody.  Essex. 
In health base villain, were't not I leave the crime  
To God's revenge, to whom revenge belongs,  
Here shouldst thou perish on my rapiers point.  
Call'st thou this health? such health betid thy friends,  
And all that are of thy condition,  Hub. 
My Lords, but hear me speak, and kill me then,  
If here I left not this young Prince alive,  
Maugre the hasty Edict of the King,  
Who gave me charge to put out both his eyes,  
That God that gave me living to this hour,  
Thunder revenge upon me in this place:  
And as I tendered him with earnest love,  
So God love me, and then I shall be well.  Sals. 
Hence traitor hence, thy counsel is herein.  Exit. Hu. 
Some in this place appointed by the King,  
Have thrown him from this lodging here above,  
And sure the murder hath been newly done,  
For yet the body is not fully cold.  Essex. 
How say you Lords, shall we with speed dispatch  
Under our hands a packet into France,  
To bid the Dolphin enter with his force,  
To claim the kingdom for his proper right,  
His title maketh lawful strength thereto.  
Besides, the Pope, on peril of his curse,  
Hath bar us of obedience unto john,  
This hateful murder, Lewis his true descent,  
The holy charge that we received from Rome,  
Are weighty reasons, if you like my reed,  
To make us all persever in this deed.  Pemb. 
My Lord of Essex, well have you advised,  
I will accord to further you in this.  Salisb. 
And Salisbury will not gainsay the same:  
But aid that course as far forth as he can.  Essex. 
Then each of us send straight to his allies,  
To win them to this famous enterprise:  
And let us all clad in Palmer's weed,  
The tenth of April at S. Edmund's Bury  
Meet to confer, and on the altar there  
Swear secrecy and aid to this advise.  
Mean while, let us convey this body hence,  
And give him burial, as befits his state,  
Keeping his month's mind, and his obsequies  
With solemn intercession for his soul.  
How say you Lordings, are you all agreed?  Pemb. 
The tenth of April at S. Edmund's Bury,  
God letting not, I will not fail the time.  Essex. 
Then let us all convey the body hence.  Exeunt. Enter K. john, with two or three, and the Prophet. joh. 
Disturbed thoughts, foredoomers of mine ill,  
Distracted passions, signs of growing harms,  
Strange prophecies of imminent mishaps,  
Confound my wits, and dull my senses so,  
That every object these mine eyes behold,  
Seem instruments to bring me to my end.  
Ascension day is come, john fear not then  
The prodigies this prattling Prophet threats.  
'tis come indeed: ah were it fully passed,  
Then were I careless of a thousand fears.  
The Dial tells me, it is twelve at noon.  
Were twelve at midnight past, then might I vaunt,  
False seers prophecies of no import.  
Could I as well with this right hand of mine  
Remove the Sun from our Meridian,  
Unto the moonested circle of th'antipodes,  
As turn this steel from twelve to twelve again,  
Then john, the date of fatal prophecies,  
Should with the Prophet's life together end.  
But multa cadunt inter calicem supremaque labra.  
Peter, unsay thy foolish doting dream,  
And by the crown of England here I swear,  
To make thee great, and greatest of thy kin.  Peter. 
King john, although the time I have prescribed  
Be but twelve hours remaining yet behind,  
Yet do I know by inspiration,  
Ere that fixed time be fully come about,  
King john shall not be king as heretofore.  john. 
Vain buzzard, what mischance can chance so soon,  
To set a king beside his regal seat?  
My heart is good, my body passing strong,  
My Land in peace, my enemies subdued,  
Only my barons storm at Arthur's death,  
But Arthur lives, I there the challenge grows,  
Were he dispatched unto his longest home,  
Then were the King secure of thousand foes.  
Hubert, what news with thee, where are my Lords?  Hub. 
Hard news my Lord, Arthur the lovely prince,  
Seeking to escape over the castle walls,  
Fell headlong down, and in the cursed fall  
He broke his bones, and there before the gate  
Your barons found him dead, and breathless quite.  joh. 
Is Arthur dead? then Hubert without more words hang the Prophet.  
Away with Peter, villain out of my sight,  
I am deaf, be gone, let him not speak a word.  
Now john, thy fears are vanished into smoke,  
Arthur is dead, thou guiltless of his death.  
Sweet youth, but that I strived for a crown,  
I could have well afforded to thine age,  
Long life, and happiness to thy content.  Enter the Bastard. joh. 
Philip what news with thee?  Bast. 
The news I heard was Peter's prayers,  
Who wished like fortune to befall us all:  
And with that word, the rope his latest friend,  
Kept him from falling headlong to the ground.  joh. 
There let him hang, and be the ravens food,  
While john triumphs in spite of prophecies.  
But what's the tidings from the Popelings now?  
What say the Monks and Priests to our proceedings?  
Or where's the Barons that so suddenly  
Did leave the king upon a false surmise?  Bast. 
The Prelate's storm and thirst for sharp revenge:  
But please your Majesty, were that the worst,  
It little skilled: a greater danger grows,  
Which must be weeded out by careful speed,  
Or all is lost, for all is leveled at.  joh. 
More frights and fears▪ what ere thy tidings be,  
I am prepared: then Philip, quickly say,  
Mean they to murder, or imprison me,  
To give my Crown away to Rome or France;  
Or will they each of them become a King?  
Worse than I think it is, it cannot be.  Bast. 
Not worse my Lord, but every whit as bad.  
The Nobles have elected Lewis King,  
In right of Lady Blanch, your niece, his wife:  
His landing is expected every hour,  
The Nobles, Commons', Clergy, all Estates,  
Incited chiefly by the Cardinal,  
Pandulph that lies here Legate for the Pope,  
Think long to see their new elected King.  
And for undoubted proof, see here my Liege,  
Letters to me from your Nobility,  
To be a party in this action:  
Who under show of feigned holiness,  
Appoint their meeting at S. Edmund's Bury,  
There to consult, conspire, and conclude  
The overthrow and downfall of your State.  joh. 
Why so it must be: one hour of content,  
Matched with a month of passionate effects.  
Why shines the Sun to favour this consort?  
Why do the winds not break their brazen gates,  
And scatter all these perjured complices,  
With all their counsels, and their damned drifts?  
But see the welkin rolleth gently on,  
There's not a lowering cloud to frown on them;  
The heaven, the earth, the sun, the moon and all,  
Conspire with those confederates my decay.  
Then hell for me, if any power be there,  
Forsake that place, and guide me step by step,  
To poison, strangle, murder in their steps  
These traitors: oh that name is too good for them,  
And death is easy: is there nothing worse,  
To wreak me on this proud peacebreaking crew?  
What sayst thou Philip? why assists thou not?  Bast. 
These curses (good my Lord) fit not the season:  
Help must descend from heaven against this treason?  joh. 
Nay thou wilt prove a traitor with the rest,  
Go get thee to them, shame come to you all.  Bast. 
I would be loath to leave your Highness thus,  
Yet you command, and I, though grieved, will go.  joh. 
Ah Philip, whither go'st thou? come again.  Bast. 
My Lord, these motions are as passions of a mad man.  joh. 
A mad man Philip, I am mad indeed,  
My heart is mazed, my senses all foredone.  
And john of England now is quite undone.  
Was ever King as I oppressed with cares?  
Dame Elinor my noble mother Queen,  
My only hope and comfort in distress,  
Is dead, and England excommunicate,  
And I am interdicted by the Pope,  
All Churches cursed, their doors are sealed up,  
And for the pleasure of the Romish Priest,  
The service of the Highest is neglected,  
The multitude (a beast of many heads)  
Do wish confusion to their sovereign;  
The Nobles blinded with ambition's fumes,  
Assemble powers to beat mine Empire down,  
And more than this, elect a foreign king.  
O England, wert thou ever miserable,  
King john of England sees thee miserable:  
john, 'tis thy sins that makes it miserable,  
Quicquid delirunt Reges, plectuntur Achivi.  
Philip, as thou hast ever loved thy King,  
So show it now: post to S. Edmund's Bury,  
Dissemble with the Nobles, know their drifts,  
Confound their devilish plots, and damned devices.  
Though john be faulty, yet let subjects bear,  
He will amend, and right the people's wrongs.  
A mother though she were unnatural,  
Is better than the kindest stepdame is:  
Let never Englishman trust foreign rule.  
Then Philip show thy fealty to thy King,  
And 'mongst the Nobles plead thou for the King.  Bast. 
I go my Lord: see how he is distraught,  
This is the cursed Priest of Italy  
Hath heaped these mischiefs on this hapless land.  
Now Philip, hadst thou Tully's eloquence,  
Then might'st thou hope to plead with good success.  Exit joh. 
And art thou gone? success may follow thee:  
Thus hast thou show'd thy kindness to thy King.  
Sirrah, in haste go greet the Cardinal,  
Pandulph I mean, the Legate from the Pope.  
Say that the King desires to speak with him.  
Now john bethink thee how thou mayst resolve:  
And if thou wilt continue England's King,  
Then cast about to keep thy Diadem;  
For life and land, and all is leveled at.  
The Pope of Rome, 'tis he that is the cause,  
He curseth thee, he sets thy subjects free  
From due obedience to their Sovereign:  
He animates the Nobles in their wars,  
He gives away the Crown to Philip's son,  
And pardons all that seek to murder thee:  
And thus blind zeal is still predominant.  
Then john there is no way to keep thy crown,  
But finely to dissemble with the Pope:  
That hand that gave the wound must give the salve  
To cure the hurt, else quite incurable.  
Thy sins are far too great to be the man  
T'abolish Pope, and Popery from thy Realm:  
But in thy Seat, if I may guess at all,  
A King shall reign that shall suppress them all.  
Peace john, here comes the Legate of the Pope,  
Dissemble thou, and whatsoe'er thou sayst,  
Yet with thy heart wish their confusion.  Enter Pandulph. Pand. 
Now john, unworthy man to breath on earth,  
That dost oppugn against thy mother Church:  
Why am I sent for to thy cursed self?  john. 
Thou man of God, Vicegerent for the Pope,  
The holy Vicar of S. Peter's Church,  
Upon my knees, I pardon crave of thee,  
And do submit me to the sea of Rome,  
And vow for penance of my high offence,  
To take on me the holy Cross of Christ,  
And carry Arms in holy Christian wars.  Pand. 
No john, thy crouching and dissembling thus  
Cannot deceive the Legate of the Pope,  
Say what thou wilt, I will not credit thee:  
Thy Crown and Kingdom both are ta'en away,  
And thou art cursed without redemption.  john 
accursed indeed to kneel to such a drudge,  
And get no help with thy submission,  
Unsheathe thy sword, and slay the misproud priest  
That thus triumphs o'er thee a mighty King:  
No john, submit again, dissemble yet,  
For Priests and Women must be flattered.  
Yet holy Father thou thyself dost know,  
No time too late for sinners to repent,  
Absolve me then, and john doth swear to do  
The uttermost what ever thou demandest.  Pandulph 
john, now I see thy hearty penitence,  
I rue and pity thy distressed estate,  
One way is left to reconcile thyself,  
And only one which I shall show to thee.  
Thou must surrender to the sea of Rome  
Thy Crown and Diadem, then shall the Pope  
Defend thee from th'invasion of thy foes.  
And where his Holiness hath kindled France,  
And set thy subjects hearts at war with thee,  
Then shall he curse thy foes, and beat them down,  
That seek the discontentment of the King.  john 
From bad to worse, or I must lose my realm,  
Or give my Crown for penance unto Rome:  
A misery more piercing than the darts  
That break from burning exhalations power.  
What, shall I give my Crown with this right hand?  
No: with this hand defend thy Crown and thee.  
What news with thee?  Enter Messenger. 
Please it your Majesty, there is descried on the coast of Kent an hundred Sail of Ships, which of all men is thought to be the French fleet, under the conduct of the Dolphin, so that it puts the country in a mutiny, so they send to your Grace for succour.  K. joh. 
How now Lord Cardinal, what's your best advise?  
These mutinies must be allayed in time,  
By policy or headstrong rage at least.  
O john, these troubles tire thy wearied soul,  
And like to Luna in a sad Eclipse,  
So are thy thoughts and passions for this news.  
Well may it be, when Kings are grieved so,  
The vulgar sort work Princes overthrow.  Card. 
K. john, for not effecting of thy plighted vow,  
This strange annoyance happens to thy Land:  
But yet be reconciled unto the Church,  
And nothing shall be grievous to thy state.  joh. 
On Pandulph, be it as thou hast decreed,  
john will not spurn against thy sound advise,  
Come le's away, and with thy help I trow,  
My Realm shall flourish, and my Crown in peace.  Enter the Nobles, Pembroke, Essex, Chester, Bewchampe, Clare, with others. Pemb. 
Now sweet S. Edmund holy Saint in heaven,  
Whose Shrine is sacred, high esteemed on earth,  
Infuse a constant zeal in all our hearts,  
To prosecute this act of mickle weight,  
Lord Bewchampe say, what friends have you procured.  Bewch. 
The L. Fitz Water, L. Percy, and L. Rosse,  
Vowed meeting here this day the leventh hour.  Essex. 
Under the cloak of holy pilgrimage,  
By that same hour on warrant of their faith,  
Philip Plantagenet, a bird of swiftest wing,  
Lord Eustauce, Vescy, Lord Cressy, and Lord Mowbrey,  
Appointed meeting at S. Edmund's shrine.  Pemb. 
Until their presence, I'll conceal my tale,  
Sweet complices in holy Christian acts,  
That venture for the purchase of renown,  
Thrice welcome to the league of high resolve,  
That pawn their bodies for their soul's regard.  Essex. 
Now wanteth but the rest to end this work,  
In Pilgrims habit comes our holy troop  
A furlong hence, with swift unwonted pace,  
May be they are the persons you expect.  Pemb. 
With swift unwonted gate, see what a thing is zeal,  
That spurs them on with fervence to this shrine,  
Now joy come to them for their true intent:  
And in good time, here come the war-men all,  
That sweat in body by the minds disease:  
Hap and hearts-ease brave Lordings be your lot.  Enter the Bastard Philip, etc. 
Amen my Lords, the like betide your luck,  
And all that travel in a Christian cause.  Essex. 
Cheerly replied brave branch of Kingly stocko,  
A right Plantagenet should reason so.  
But silence Lords, attend our comings cause:  
The servile yoke that pained us with toil,  
On strong instinct hath framed this conventicle,  
To ease our necks of servitudes contempt.  
Should I not name the foeman of our rest,  
Which of you all so barren in conceit,  
As cannot level at the man I mean?  
But lest Enigma's shadow shining truth,  
Plainly to paint, as truth requires no art.  
Th'effect of this resort importeth this,  
To root and clean extirpate tyrant john,  
Tyrant I say, appealing to the man,  
If any here that loves him, and I ask,  
What kindship, lenity, or Christian reign,  
Rules in the man, to bar this soul impeach?  
First I infer the Chester's banishment:  
For reprehending him in most unchristian crimes▪  
Was special notice of a tyrants will.  
But were this all, the devil should be saved,  
But this the least of many thousand faults,  
That circumstance with leisure might display.  
Our private wrongs, no parcel of my tale  
Which now in presence, but for some great cause  
Might wish to him as to a mortal foe.  
But shall I close the period with an act  
Abhorring in the ears of Christian men,  
His cousin's death, that sweet unguilty child,  
Untimely butchered by the tyrant's means,  
Here are my proofs, as clear as gravel brook,  
And on the same I further must infer,  
That who upholds a tyrant in his course,  
Is culpable of all his damned guilt.  
To show the which, is yet to be described.  
My Lord of Pembroke, show what is behind,  
Only I say, that were there nothing else  
To move us, but the Pope's most dreadful curse,  
Whereof we are assured, if we fail,  
It were enough to instigate us all,  
With earnestness ofsprite, to seek a mean  
To dispossess john of his regiment.  Pemb. 
Well hath my Lord of Essex told his tale,  
Which I aver▪ for most substantial truth,  
And more to make the matter to our mind,  
I say that Lewis in challenge of his wife,  
Hath title of an uncontrolled plea,  
To all that longeth to our English crown.  
Short tale to make, the Sea Apostolic,  
Hath offered dispensation for the fault.  
If any be, as trust me none I know,  
By planting Lewis in the usurpers room:  
This is the cause of all our presence here,  
That on the holy Altar we protest,  
To aid the right of Lewis with goods and life,  
Who on our knowledge is in arms for England.  
What say you Lords?  Salis. 
As Pembroke saith, affirmeth Salisbury:  
Fair Lewis of France that spoused Lady Blanch,  
Hath title of an uncontrolled strength  
To England, and what longeth to the Crown:  
In right whereof, as we are true informed,  
The Prince is marching hitherward in arms.  
Our purpose, to conclude that with a word,  
Is to invest him as we may devise,  
King of our country, in the tyrant's stead:  
And so the warrant on the Altar sworn,  
And so the intent for which we hither came.  Bast. 
My Lord of Salisbury, I cannot couch  
My speeches with the needful words of art,  
As doth beseem in such a weighty work,  
But what my conscience and my duty will,  
I purpose to impart.  
For Chester's exile, blame his busy wit,  
That meddled where his duty quite forbade:  
For any private causes that you have,  
Me think they should not mount to such a height,  
As to depose a King in their revenge.  
For Arthur's death, K. john was innocent,  
He desperate was the deathsman to himself,  
Which you, to make a colour to your crime, injustly do impute to his default,  
But where fell traitorism hath residence,  
There wants no words to set despite on work.  
I say 'tis shame, and worthy all reproof,  
To wrest such petty wrongs in terms of right,  
Against a King anointed by the Lord.  
Why Salisbury, admit the wrongs are true,  
Yet subjects may not take in hand revenge,  
And rob the heavens of their proper power,  
Where sitteth he to whom revenge belongs.  
And doth a Pope, a priest, a man of pride,  
Give charters for the lives of lawful kings?  
What can he bless, or who regards his curse,  
But such as give to man, and take from God?  
I speak it in the sight of God above,  
There's not a man that dies in your belief,  
But sells his soul perpetually to pain.  
Aid Lewis, leave God, kill john, please hell,  
Make havoc of the welfare of your souls,  
For here I leave you in the sight of heaven,  
A troup of traitors, food for hellish fiends;  
If you desist, then follow me as friends,  
If not, then do your worst, as hateful traitors.  
For Lewis his right, alas 'tis too too lame,  
A senseless claim, if truth be titles friend.  
In brief, if this be cause of our resort,  
Our pilgrimage is to the devils shrine.  
I came not Lords, to troop as traitors do,  
Nor will I counsel in so bad a cause:  
Please you return, we go again as friends,  
If not, I to my King, and you where traitors please.  Exit. Percy. 
A hot young man, and so my Lords proceed,  
I let him go, and better lost than found.  Pemb. 
What say you Lords, will all the rest proceed,  
Will you all with me swear upon the Altar,  
That you will to the death, be aid to Le. & enemy to john?  
Every man lay his hand by mine, in witness of his heart's accord.  
Well then, every man to arms to meet the king,  
Who is already before London.  Enter Messenger. Pemb. 
What news Herald?  
The right Christian Prince my master, Lewis of France, is at hand, coming to visit your Honours, directed hither by the right honourable Richard Earl of Bigot, to confer with your honours.  Pemb. 
How near is his Highness?  Mes. 
Ready to enter your presence.  Enter Lewis, Earl Bigot, with his troop. Lew. 
Fair Lords of England, Lewis salutes you all  
As friends, and firm well-willers of his weal,  
At whose request, from plenty flowing France,  
Crossing the Ocean with a Southern gale,  
He is in person come at your commands,  
To undertake and gratify withal,  
The fullness of your favours proffered him.  
But world's brave men, omitting promises,  
Till time be minister of more amends,  
I must acquaint you with our fortune's course.  
The heavens dewing favours on my head,  
Have in their conduct safe with victory,  
Brought me along your well manured bounds,  
With small repulse, and little cross of chance,  
Your City Rochester, with great applause,  
By some divine instinct laid arms aside:  
And from the hollow holes of Thamesis,  
Echo apace replied, Vive la Roy.  
From thence, along the wanton rolling glade  
To Troynovant, your fair Metropolis,  
With luck came Lewis, to show his troops of France,  
Waving our Ensigns with the dallying winds,  
The fearful object of fell frowning war;  
Where after some assault, and small defence,  
Heavens may I say, and not my warlike troop,  
Tempered their hearts to take a friendly foe  
Within the compass of their high built walls,  
Giving me title, as it seemed they wish.  
Thus fortune (Lords) acts to your forwardness,  
Means of content, in am of former grief:  
And may I live but to requite you all,  
World's wish were mine, in dying noted yours.  Salis. 
Welcome the balm that closeth up our wounds,  
The sovereign medicine for our quick recure,  
The anchor of our hope, the only prop,  
Whereon depends our lives, our lands, our weal,  
Without the which, as sheep without their herd,  
(Except a shepherd winking at the wolf)  
We stray, we pine, we run to thousand harms.  
No marvel then, though with unwonted joy,  
We welcome him that beateth woes away.  Lew. 
Thanks to you all of this religious league,  
A holy knot of Catholic consent.  
I cannot name you Lordings, man by man,  
But like a stranger unacquainted yet,  
In general I promise faithful love:  
Lord Bigot brought me to S. Edmund's shrine,  
Giving me warrant of a Christian oath  
That this assembly came here,  
To swear according as your packets showed,  
Homage and loyal service to ourself,  
I need not doubt the surety of your wills,  
Since well I know, for many of your sakes,  
The towns have yielded on their own accords:  
Yet for a fashion, not for misbelief,  
My eyes must witness, and these ears must hear  
Your oath upon the holy Altar sworn,  
And after march, to end our comings cause.  Sals. 
That we intent no other than good truth,  
All that are present of this holy league,  
For confirmation of our better trust,  
In presence of his Highness, swear with me,  
The sequel that myself shall utter here.  
I Thomas Plantagenet, Earl of Salisbury, swear upon the Altar, and by the holy army of Saints, homage and allegiance to the right Christian Prince Lewis of France, as true and rightful King to England, Cornwall, & Wales, and to their territories: in the defence whereof, I upon the holy Altar swear all forwardness. All the Eng. Lo. swear.  
As the noble Earl hath sworn, so swear we all.  Lew. 
I rest assured on your holy oath,  
And on this Altar in like sort I swear  
Love to you all, and princely recompense  
To guerdon your good wills unto the full.  
And since I am at this religious shrine,  
My good well-willers give us leave awhile,  
To use some orisons ourselves apart,  
To all the holy company of heaven,  
That they will smile upon our purposes,  
And bring them to a fortunate event.  Sal. 
We leave your Highness to your good intent.  Exeunt Lords of England. Lew. 
Now Viscount Meloun, what remains behind?  
Trust me these traitors to their Sovereign State,  
Are not to be believed in any sort.  Meloun. 
Indeed my Lord, they that infringe their oaths,  
And play the Rebels 'gainst their native King,  
Will for as little cause revolt from you,  
If ever opportunity incite them so:  
For once forsworn, and never after sound,  
There's no affiance after perjury.  Lew. 
Well Meloun, well, let's smooth with them awhile,  
Until we have as much as they can do:  
And when their virtue is exhaled dry,  
I'll hang them for the guerdon of their help:  
Mean while we'll use them as a precious poison,  
To undertake the issue of our hope.  Fr. Lo. 
'tis policy (my Lord) to bait our hooks  
With merry smiles, and promise of much weight:  
But when your Highness needeth them no more.  
'tis good make sure work with them, lest indeed  
They prove to you as to their natural King.  Melun. 
Trust me my Lord, right well have you advised,  
Venom for use, but never for a sport  
Is to be dallied with, lest it infect.  
Were you installed, as soon I hope you shall:  
Be free from traitors, and dispatch them all.  jews 
That so I mean, I swear before you all  
On this same Altar, and by heavens power,  
There's not an English traitor of them all,  
john once dispatched, and I fair England's King,  
Shall on his shoulders bear his head one day,  
But I will crop it for their guilts desert:  
Nor shall their heirs enjoy their signiories,  
But perish by their parents foul amiss.  
This have I sworn, and this will I perform,  
If ere I come unto the height I hope.  
Lay down your hands, and swear the same with me.  The French Lords swear. 
Why so, now call them in, and speak them fair,  
A smile of France will feed an English fool.  
Bear them in hand as friends, for so they be:  
But in the heart like traitors as they are.  Enter the English Lords. 
Now famous followers, chieftains of the world,  
Have we solicited with hearty prayer  
The heaven in favour of our high attempt.  
Leave we this place, and march we with our power  
To rouse the tyrant from his chiefest hold:  
And when our labours have a prosperous end,  
Each man shall reap the fruit of his desert.  
And so resolved, brave followers let us hence.  Enter K. john, Bastard, Pandulph, and a many Priests with them. 
Thus john, thou art absolved from all thy sins,  
And freed by order from our Father's curse.  
Receive thy Crown again, with this proviso,  
That thou remain true liegeman to the Pope,  
And carry arms in right of holy Rome.  john 
I hold the same as tenant to the Pope,  
And thank your Holiness for your kindness shown.  Philip 
A proper jest, when Kings must stoop to Friars,  
Need hath no law, when Friars must be Kings.  Enter a Messenger. Mess. 
Please it your majesty, the Prince of France,  
With all the Nobles of your Grace's Land  
Are marching hitherward in good array.  
Where ere they set their foot, all places yield:  
Thy Land is theirs, and not a foot holds out  
But Dover Castle, which is hard besieged.  Pan. 
Fear not king john, thy kingdom is the Popes,  
And they shall know his Holiness hath power,  
To beat them soon from whence he hath to do.  Drums and Trumpets. Enter jews, Melun, Salisbury, Essex, Pembroke, and all the Nobles from France, and England. jews 
Pandulph, as gave his Holiness in charge,  
So hath the Dolphin mustered up his troops,  
And won the greatest part of all this Land.  
But ill becomes your Grace Lord Cardinal,  
Thus to converse with john that is accursed.  Pand. 
jews of France, victorious Conqueror,  
Whose sword hath made this Island quake for fear;  
Thy forwardness to fight for holy Rome,  
Shall be remunerated to the full:  
But know my Lord, K. john is now absolved,  
The Pope is pleased, the Land is blessed again,  
And thou hast brought each thing to good effect.  
It resteth then that thou withdraw thy powers,  
And quietly return to France again:  
For all is done the Pope would wish thee do.  jews 
But all's not done that jews came to do.  
Why Pandulph, hath king Philip sent his son  
And been at such excessive charge in wars,  
To be dismissed with words? king john shall know,  
England is mine, and he usurps my right.  Pand. 
jews, I charge thee and thy complices  
Upon the pain of Pandulph's holy curse,  
That thou withdraw thy powers to France again,  
And yield up London and the neighbour towns  
That thou hast ta'en in England by the sword.  Melun 
Lord Cardinal, by jews princely leave,  
It can be nought but usurpation  
In thee, the Pope, and all the Church of Rome,  
Thus to insult on Kings of Christendom,  
Now with a word to make them carry arms,  
Then with a word to make them leave their arms.  
This must not be: Prince jews keep thine own,  
Let Pope and Popelings curse their bellies full.  Bast. 
My Lord of Melun, what title had the Prince  
To England and the Crown of Albion,  
But such a title as the Pope confirmed:  
The Prelate now le's fall his feigned claim:  
jews is but the agent for the Pope,  
Then must the Dolphin cease, sith he hath ceased:  
But cease or no, it greatly matters not,  
If you my Lords and Barons of the Land  
Will leave the French, and cleave unto our King.  
For shame ye Peers of England suffer not  
Yourselves, your honours, and your land to fall:  
But with resolved thoughts beat back the French,  
And free the Land from yoke of servitude.  Salisbury 
Philip, not so, Lord jews is our King,  
And we will follow him unto the death.  Pand. 
Then in the name of Innocent the Pope,  
I curse the Prince and all that take his part,  
And excommunicate the rebel Peers  
As traitors to the King, and to the Pope.  Lew. 
Pandulph, our swords shall bless ourselves again:  
Prepare thee john, Lords follow me your King.  Exeunt john 
Accursed john, the Devil owes thee shame,  
Resisting Rome, or yielding to the Pope, all's one.  
The devil take the Pope, the Peers, and France:  
Shame be my share for yielding to the Priest.  Pand. 
Comfort thyself king john, the Cardinal goes  
Upon his curse to make them leave their arms.  Exit. Bastard 
Comfort my Lord, and curse the Cardinal,  
Betake yourself to arms, my troops are priest  
To answer jews with a lusty shock:  
The English archers have their quivers full,  
Their bows are bent, the pikes are priest to push:  
Good cheer my Lord, King Richard's fortune hangs  
Upon the plume of warlike Philip's helm.  
Then let them know his brother and his son  
Are leaders of the Englishmen at arms.  john 
Philip I know not how to answer thee:  
But let us hence, to answer Lewes' pride.  Excursions. Enter Meloun with English Lords. Mel. 
O I am slain, Nobles, Salisbury, Pembroke,  
My soul is charged, hear me: for what I say  
Concerns the Peers of England, and their State.  
Listen, brave Lords, a fearful mourning tale  
To be delivered by a man of death.  
Behold these scars, the dole of bloody Mars  
Are harbingers from natures common foe,  
Citing this trunk to Tellus prison house;  
Life's charter (Lordings) lasteth not an hour:  
And fearful thoughts, forerunners of my end,  
Bids me give physic to a sickly soul.  
O Peers of England, know you what you do?  
There's but a hair that sunders you from harm,  
The hook is baited, and the train is made,  
And simply you run doting to your deaths.  
But lest I die, and leave my tale untold,  
With silence slaughtering so brave a crew.  
This I aver, if jews win the day,  
There's not an Englishman that lifts his hand  
Against King john to plant the heir of France,  
But is already damned to cruel death.  
I heard it vowed; myself amongst the rest  
Swore on the Altar aid to this Edict.  
Two causes Lords, makes me display this drift,  
The greatest for the freedom of my soul,  
That longs to leave this mansion free from guilt:  
The other on a natural instinct,  
For that my Grandsire was an Englishman.  
Misdoubt not Lords the truth of my discourse,  
No frenzy, nor no brainsick idle fit,  
But well advised, and wotting what I say,  
Pronounce I here before the face of heaven,  
That nothing is discovered but a truth.  
'tis time to fly, submit yourselves to john,  
The smiles of France shade in the frowns of death,  
Lift up your swords, turn face against the French,  
Expel the yoke that's framed for your necks.  
Back warmen, back, embowel not the clime,  
Your seat, your nurse, your birth days breathing place,  
That bred you, bears you, brought you up in arms.  
Ah! be not so ingrate to dig your mother's grave,  
Preserve your lambs and beat away the wolf.  
My soul hath said, contritions penitence  
Lays hold on man's redemption for my sin.  
Farewell my Lords; witness my faith when we are met in heaven,  
And for my kindness give me grave room here.  
My soul doth fleet, world's vanities farewell.  Sals. 
Now joy betid thy soul wellmeaning man,  
How now my Lords, what cooling card is this?  
A greater grief grows now than erst hath been.  
What counsel give you, shall we stay and die?  
Or shall we home, and kneel unto the King.  Pemb. 
My heart misgave this sad accursed news:  
What have we done? fie Lords, what frenzy moved  
Our hearts to yield unto the pride of France?  
If we persever, we are sure to die:  
If we desist, small hope again of life.  Salsb. 
Bear hence the body of this wretched man,  
That made us wretched with his dying tale,  
And stand not wailing on our present harms,  
As women wont: but seek our harms redress.  
As for myself, I will in haste be gone:  
And kneel for pardon to our sovereign john.  Pemb. 
ay, there's the way, le's rather kneel to him,  
Than to the French that would confound us all.  Exeunt Enter King john carried between two Lords. john 
Set down, set down the load not worth your pain,  
For done I am with deadly wounding grief:  
Sickly and succourless, hopeless of any good,  
The world hath wearied me, and I have wearied it:  
It loathes I live, I live and loath myself.  
Who pities me? to whom have I been kind?  
But to a few; a few will pity me.  
Why die I not? Death scorns so wild a prey.  
Why live I not, life hates so sad a prize.  
I sue to both to be retained of either,  
But both are deaf, I can be heard of neither.  
Nor death nor life, yet life and near the near,  
Ymixt with death, biding I wot not where.  Phil. 
How fares my Lord, that he is carried thus?  
Not all the awkward fortunes yet befallen,  
Made such impression of lament in me.  
Nor ever did my eye attaint my heart  
With any object moving more remorse,  
Than now beholding of a mighty King,  
Borne by his Lords in such distressed State.  joh. 
What news with thee? if bad, report it straight▪  
If good, be mute, it doth but flatter me.  Phil. 
Such as it is, and heavy though it be,  
To glut the world with tragic elegies,  
Once will I breath to aggravate the rest,  
Another moan to make the measure full.  
The bravest bowman had not yet sent forth  
Two arrows from the quiver at his side,  
But that a rumour went throughout our Camp,  
That john was fled, the King had left the field.  
At last the rumour scaled these ears of mine,  
Who rather chose as sacrifice for Mars,  
Than ignominious scandal by retire.  
I cheered the troops, as did the prince of Troy  
His weary followers 'gainst the Myrmidons,  
Crying aloud, S. George, the day is ours.  
But fear had captivated courage quite,  
And like the Lamb before the greedy Wolf,  
So heartless fled our war-men from the field.  
Short tale to make, myself amongst the rest,  
Was fain to fly before the eager foe.  
By this time night had shadowed all the earth,  
With sable curtains of the blackest hue,  
And fenced us from the fury of the French,  
As Io from the jealous juno's eye,  
When in the morning our troops did gather head,  
Passing the washes with our carriages,  
The impartial tide deadly and inexorable,  
Came raging in with billows threatening death,  
And swallowed up the most of all our men,  
Myself upon a Galloway right free, well paced,  
Out stripped the floods that followed wave by wave,  
I so escaped to tell this tragic tale.  john 
Grief upon grief, yet none so great a grief  
To end this life, and thereby rid my grief.  
Was ever any so infortunate,  
The right Idea of a cursed man,  
As I, poor I, a triumph for despite,  
My fever grows, what ague shakes me so?  
How far to Swinstead, tell me, do you know?  
Present unto the Abbot word of my repair.  
My sickness rages, to tyrannize upon me,  
I cannot live unless this fever leave me.  Philip 
Good cheer my Lord, the Abbey is at hand,  
Behold my Lord, the Churchmen come to meet you.  Enter the Abbot and certain Monks. Abb. 
All health & happiness to our sovereign lord the King.  john 
Nor health nor happiness hath john at all.  
Say Abbot, am I welcome to thy house?  Abbot 
Such welcome as our Abbey can afford,  
Your Majesty shall be assured of.  Philip 
The King thou seest is weak and very faint,  
What victuals hast thou to refresh his Grace?  Abb. 
Good stote my Lord, of that you need not fear,  
For Lincolnshire, and these our Abbey grounds  
Were never fatter, nor in better plight.  john 
Philip, thou never needst to doubt of cates,  
Nor King nor Lord is seated half so well,  
As are the Abbeys throughout all the land,  
If any plot of ground do pass another,  
The Friars fasten on it straight:  
But let us in to taste of their repast,  
It goes against my heart to feed with them,  
Or be beholding to such Abbey grooms:  Exeunt. Manet the Monk. Monk 
Is this the King that never loved a Friar?  
Is this the man that doth contemn the Pope?  
Is this the man that robbed the holy Church,  
And yet will fly unto a Friory?  
Is this the King that aims at Abbeys lands?  
Is this the man whom all the world abhors,  
And yet will fly unto a Friary?  
accursed be Swinstead Abbey, Abbot, Friars,  
Monks, Nuns, and Clarks, and all that dwells therein,  
If wicked john escape alive away.  
Now if that thou wilt look to merit heaven,  
And be canonised for a holy Saint:  
To please the world with a deserving work,  
Be thou the man to set thy country free,  
And murder him that seeks to murder thee.  Enter the Abbot. Abbot 
Why are not you within to cheer the King?  
He now begins to mend, and will to meat.  Monk 
What if I say to strangle him in his sleep?  Abbot 
What, at thy Mumpsimus? away,  
And seek some means for to pastime the King.  Monk 
I'll set a dudgeon dagger at his heart,  
And with a mallet knock him on the head.  Abbot 
Alas, what means this Monk to murder me?  
Dare lay my life he'll kill me for my place.  Monk 
I'll poison him, and it shall ne'er be known,  
And then shall I be chiefest of my house.  Abbot 
If I were dead indeed he is the next,  
But I'll away, for why the Monk is mad,  
And in his madness he will murder me.  Mon. 
My L. I cry your Lordship mercy, I saw you not.  Abbot 
Alas good Thomas do not murder me, and thou shalt have my place with thousand thanks.  Monk 
I murder you! God shield from such a thought.  Abbot 
If thou wilt needs, yet let me say my prayers.  Monk 
I will not hurt your Lordship good my Lord: but if you please, I will impart a thing that shall be beneficial to us all.  Abbot 
Wilt thou not hurt me holy Monk? say on.  Monk 
You know my Lord, the King is in our house.  Abbot 
True.  Monk 
You know likewise the King abhors a Friar.  Abbot 
True.  Monk 
And he that loves not a Friar is our enemy.  Abbot 
Thou sayst true.  Monk 
Then the King is our enemy.  Abbot 
True.  Mon. 
Why then should we not kill our enemy, and the king being our enemy, why then should we not kill the K.  Abbot 
O blessed Monk! I see God moves thy mind  
to free this land from tyrant's slavery.  
But who dare venture for to do this deed?  Mon. 
Who dare? why I my Lord dare do the deed,  
I'll free my Country and the Church from foes,  
And merit heaven by killing of a King.  Abbot 
Thomas kneel down, and if thou art resolved,  
I will absolve thee here from all thy sins,  
For why the deed is meritorious.  
Forward, and fear not man, for every month,  
Our Friars shall sing a Mass for Thomas soul.  Mon. 
God and S. Francis prosper my attempt,  
For now my Lord I go about my work.  Exeunt. Enter jews and his army. jews 
Thus victory in bloody Laurel clad,  
Follows the fortune of young Lodowick,  
The Englishmen as daunted at our sight,  
Fall as the foul before the eagle's eyes,  
Only two crosses of contrary change  
Do nip my heart, and vex me with unrest.  
Lord Melun's death, the one part of my soul,  
A braver man did never live in France.  
The other grief, I that's a gall indeed,  
To think that Dover Castle should hold out  
'Gainst all assaults, and rest impregnable.  
Ye warlike race of Francus Hector's son,  
Triumph in conquest of that tyrant john,  
The better half of England is our own:  
And towards the conquest of the other part,  
We have the face of all the English Lords,  
What then remains but overrun the land?  
Be resolute my warlike followers,  
And if good fortune serve as she begins,  
The poorest peasant of the realm of France  
shallbe a master o'er an English Lord.  Enter a Messenger. jews 
Fellow, what news?  Mess. 
Pleaseth your Grace, the Earl of Salisbury, Pembroke, Essex, Clare, and Arundel, with all the Barons that did fight for thee, are on a sudden fled with all their powers, to join with john, to drive thee back again.  Enter another Messenger. Messen. 
Lewes' my Lord, why stand'st thou in a maze?  
Gather thy troops, hope not of help from France,  
For all thy forces being fifty sail,  
Containing twenty thousand soldiers,  
With victual and munition for the war,  
Putting them from Calais in unlucky time,  
Did cross the seas, and on the Goodwin sands,  
The men, munition, and the ships are lost.  Enter another Messenger. jews 
More news? say on.  Messen. 
john (my Lord with all his scattered troops,  
Flying the fury of your conquering sword,  
As Pharaoh erst within the bloody sea,  
So he and his environed with the tide,  
On Lincoln washes all were overwhelmed,  
The Barons fled, our forces cast away.  jews 
Was ever heard such unexpected news?  Messenger 
Yet Lodowick revive thy dying heart,  
King john and all his forces are consumed.  
The less thou needst the aid of English Earls,  
The less thou needst to grieve thy navies wrack,  
And follow times advantage with success.  jews 
Brave Frenchmen armed with magnanimity,  
March after jews, who will lead you on  
To chase the Baron's power that wants a head,  
For john is drowned, and I am England's King.  
Though our munition and our men be lost,  
Philip of France will send us fresh supplies.  Exeunt. Enter two Friars laying a Cloth. Friar 
Dispatch, dispatch, the King desires to eat,  
Would a might eat his last for the love he bears to church men.  Friar 
I am of thy mind too, and so it should be and we might be our own carvers.  
I marvel why they dine here in the Orchard.  Friar 
I know not, nor I care not. The King comes.  john. 
Come on Lord Abbot, shall we sit together?  Abbot 
Pleaseth your Grace sit down.  john 
Take your places sirs, no pomp in penury, all beggars and friends may come, where Necessity keeps the house, courtesy is barred the table, sit down Philip.  Bast. 
My Lord, I am loath to allude so much to the proverb, honours change manners: a king is a king, though Fortune do her worst, & we as dutiful in despite of her frown, as if your highness were now in the highest type of dignity.  john 
Come, no more ado, and you tell me much of dignity, you'll mar my appetite in a surfeit of sorrow. What cheer Lord Abbot, me thinks ye frown like an host that knows his guest hath no money to pay the reckoning?  Abbot 
No my Liege, if I frown at all, it is for I fear this cheer too homely to entertain so mighty a guest as your majesty.  Bast. 
I think rather, my Lord Abbot, you remember my last being here, when I went in progress for pouches, and the rancour of his heart breaks out in his countenance, to show he hath not forgot me.  Abb. 
Not so my Lord, you, and the meanest follower of his majesty, are heartily welcome to me.  Monk 
Wassell my Liege, and as a poor Monk may say, welcome to Swinstead.  john 
Begin Monk, and report hereafter thou wast taster to a King.  Monk 
As much health to your Highness as to mine own heart.  john 
I pledge thee kind Monk.  Monk 
The merriest draft that ever was drunk in England.  
Am I not too bold with your Highness?  john 
Not a whit, all friends and fellows for a time.  Monk 
If the inwards of a toad be a compound of any proof: why so it works.  john 
Stay Philip, where's the Monk?  Bastard 
He is dead my Lord.  john 
Then drink not Philip for a world of wealth.  Ba. 
What cheer my liege? your colour 'gins to change.  john 
So doth my life: O Philip, I am poisoned.  
The Monk, the Devil, the poison 'gins to rage,  
It will depose myself a King from reign.  Bast. 
This Abbot hath an interest in this act.  
At all adventures take thou that from me.  
There lie the Abbot, Abbey, Lubber, Devil.  
March with the Monk unto the gates of hell.  
How fares my Lord?  john 
Philip, some drink, oh for the frozen Alps,  
To tumble on and cool this inward heat,  
That rageth as the furnace sevenfold hot.  
To burn the holy tree in Babylon,  
Power after power forsake their proper power,  
Only the heart impugns with faint resist  
The fierce invade of him that conquers Kings,  
Help God, O pain! die john, O plague  
Inflicted on thee for thy grievous sins.  
Philip, a chair, and by and by a grave,  
My legs disdain the carriage of a King.  Bast. 
A good my Liege, with patience conquer grief,  
And bear this pain with kingly fortitude.  john 
Me thinks I see a catalogue of sin,  
Wrote by a fiend in marble characters,  
The least enough to lose my part in heaven.  
Me thinks the Devil whispers in mine ears,  
And tells me, 'tis in vain to hope for grace,  
I must be damned for Arthur's sudden death,  
I see I see a thousand thousand men  
Come to accuse me for my wrong on earth,  
And there is none so merciful a God  
That will forgive the number of my sins.  
How have I lived, but by another's loss?  
What have I loved, but wrack of others weal?  
When have I vowed, and not infringed mine oath?  
Where have I done a deed deserving well?  
How, what, when, and where, have I bestowed a day,  
That tended not to some notorious ill.  
My life replete with rage and tyranny,  
Craves little pity for so strange a death.  
Or, who will say that john deceased too soon?  
Who will not say, he rather lived too long.  
Dishonour did attaint me in my life,  
And shame attendeth john unto his death.  
Why did I scape the fury of the French,  
And died not by the temper of their swords?  
Shameless my life, and shamefully it ends,  
Scorned by my foes, disdained of my friends.  Bast. 
Forgive the world and all your earthly foes,  
And call on Christ, who is your latest friend.  john 
My tongue doth falter: Philip, I tell thee man,  
Since john did yield unto the Priest of Rome,  
Nor he nor his have prospered on the earth:  
Cursed are his blessings, and his curse is bliss.  
But in the spirit I cry unto my God,  
As did the kingly prophet David cry,  
(Whose hands, as mine, with murder were attaint)  
I am not he shall build the Lord a house,  
Or root these locusts from the face of earth:  
But if my dying heart deceive me not,  
From out these loins shall spring a kingly branch  
Whose arms shall reach unto the gates of Rome,  
And with his feet treads down the Strumpet's pride,  
That sits upon the chair of Babylon.  
Philip, my heart strings break, the poisons flame  
Hath overcome in me weak Nature's power,  
And in the faith of jesu john doth die.  Bastard 
See how he strives for life, unhappy Lord,  
Whose bowels are divided in themselves.  
This is the fruit of Popery, when true Kings  
Are slain and shouldered out by Monks and Friars.  Enter a Messenger. Mess. 
Please it your Grace, the Barons of the Land,  
Which all this while bare arms against the King,  
Conducted by the Legate of the Pope,  
Together with the Prince his highness son,  
Do crave to be admitted to the presence of the King.  Bast. 
Your Son, my Lord, young Henry craves to see  
Your Majesty, and brings with him beside  
The Barons that revolted from your Grace.  
O piercing sight, he fumbleth in the mouth,  
His speech doth fail: lift up yourself my Lord,  
And see the Prince to comfort you in death.  Enter Pandulph, young Henry, the Barons with daggers in their hands. Prince 
O let me see my father ere he die:  
O uncle, were you here, and suffered him  
To be thus poisoned by a damned Monk?  
Ah he is dead, Father, sweet Father speak.  Bastard 
His speech doth fail, he hasteth to his end.  Pandulph 
Lords, give me leave to joy the dying King,  
With sight of these his Nobles kneeling here  
With daggers in their hands, who offer up  
Their lives for ransom of their foul offence.  
Then good my Lord, if you forgive them all,  
Lift up your hand in token you forgive.  Salis. 
We humbly thank your royal Majesty,  
And vow to fight for England and her King:  
And in the sight of john our sovereign Lord,  
In spite of jews and the power of France,  
Who hitherward are marching in all haste,  
We crown young Henry in his father's stead.  Henry 
Help, help, he dies; Ah father! look on me.  Legat 
K. john, farewell: in token of thy faith,  
And sign thou diest the servant of the Lord,  
Lift up thy hand, that we may witness here,  
Thou diedst the servant of our Saviour Christ.  
Now joy betid thy soul: what noise is this?  Enter a Messenger. Mess. 
Help Lords, the Dolphin maketh hitherward  
With Ensigns of defiance in the wind,  
And all our army standeth at a gaze,  
Expecting what their Leaders will command.  Bast. 
Let's arm ourselves in young K. Henry's right,  
And beat the power of France to sea again.  Legate 
Philip not so, but I will to the Prince,  
And bring him face to face to parley with you.  Bast. 
Lord Salisbury, yourself shall march with me.  
So shall we bring these troubles to an end.  King 
Sweet uncle, if thou love thy Sovereign,  
Let not a stone of Swinstead Abbey stand,  
But pull the house about the friars ears:  
For they have killed my Father and my King.  Exeunt. A Parley sounded, jews, Pandulph, Salisbury etc. Pand. 
jews of France, young Henry England's king  
Requires to know the reason of the claim  
That thou canst make to any thing of his.  
King john that did offend, is dead and gone,  
See where his breathless trunk in presence lies,  
And he as heir apparent to the crown  
Is now succeeded in his Father's room.  Henry 
jews, what law of arms doth lead thee thus,  
To keep possession of my lawful right?  
Answer; in fine, if thou wilt take a peace,  
And make surrender of my right again,  
Or try thy title with the dint of sword:  
I tell thee Dolphin, Henry fears thee not.  
For now the Barons cleave unto their King,  
And what thou hast in England they did get.  jews 
Henry of England, now that john is dead,  
That was the chiefest enemy to France,  
I may the rather be induced to peace.  
But Salisbury, and you Barons of the Realm,  
This strange revolt agrees not with the oath  
That you on Bury Altar lately swore.  Sals. 
Nor did the oath your Highness there did take  
Agree with honour of the Prince of France.  Bast. 
My Lord, what answer make you to the King?  Dolphin 
Faith Philip this I say: It boots not me,  
Nor any Prince, nor power of Christendom  
To seek to win this Island Albion,  
Unless he have a party in the Realm  
By treason for to help him in his wars.  
The Peers which were the party on my side,  
Are fled from me: then boots not me to fight,  
But on conditions, as mine honour will,  
I am contented to depart the Realm.  Henry 
On what conditions will your Highness yield?  Lew. 
That shall we think upon by more advice.  Bast. 
Then Kings & Princes, let these broils have end,  
And at more leisure talk upon the League.  
Mean while to Worster let us bear the King,  
And there inter his body, as beseems.  
But first, in sight of jews heir of France,  
Lords take the Crown, and set it on his head,  
That by succession is our lawful King.  They crown young Henry. 
Thus England's peace begins in Henry's reign,  
And bloody wars are closed with happy league.  
Let England live but true within itself,  
And all the world can never wrong her State.  
jews, thou shalt be bravely shipped to France,  
For never Frenchman got of English ground  
The twentieth part that thou hast conquered.  
Dolphin, thy hand; to Worster we will march:  
Lords all, lay hands to bear your Sovereign  
With obsequies of honour to his grave:  
If England's Peers and people join in one,  
Nor Pope, nor France, nor Spain can do them wrong.  
FINIS.