K. John. What say these 'young ones? What say 'you, my

niece?

L. Blanch. That she is bound in honour still to 'do,

What you in wisdom still vouchsafe to 'say.

K. Jo. Speak then, prince Dauphin; can you 'love this lady? Lew. Nay, ask me if I can 'refrain from love;

For I'do love her, most unfeignedly!

K. John. Philip of France, if 'thou be pleased withal,
Command thy son, and daughter, to join hands.

K. Phi. It likes us well: Young princes, close your hands..
Austria merrily adds:

Aust. And your 'lips too; for I am well assured

That 'I did so, when I was first betrothed."
K. Phi. 'Now, citizens of Angiers, ope your gates,
Let-in that amity which you have made.-
Is not the Lady 'Constance in this troop?3
I 'know she is not; for this match made-up,
Her presence would have interrupted much.
Brother of England, how may we 'content
This widow-lady?

K. John.

We will heal-up 'all;

For we'll create young Arthur Duke of Bretagne
And Earl of Richmond; and this rich fair town
We make him lord of.-'Call the Lady Constance ;
Some speedy messenger bid her repair
To our solemnity. I trust we shall,
If not fill-up the measure of her 'will,
Yet, in 'some measure, satisfy her so,
That we shall 'stop her exclamation.

[Exeunt.

Lord Salisbury at once proceeds to Lady Constance on the mandate of the King. The gates of the town are joyously thrown open; and the reconciled monarchs, with the youthful bride and bridegroom, at once proceed to solemnize the rites of marriage. - Faulconbridge remains, in ludicrous perplexity, gazing at the fraternizing French and English; then, when alone, he bursts out in bitter exclamation:

Faul. 'Mad world! mad 'kings! mad 'composition! *
John, to stop Arthur's title in the 'whole,

Hath willingly departed with a 'part;

4

And France,--whose armour "conscience” buckled on,
Whom "zeal" and "charity" brought to the field
As Heaven's own soldier,-rounded in the ear
By that same purpose-changer, (that sly devil,

2 O. R. assured. 3 Assembly. 4 Agreement. 5 Whispered pleasingly.

That broker, that still breaks the pate of faith;
That daily break-vow; he that wins of all,

Of kings, of beggars, old men, young men, maids ;)
That smooth-faced gentleman, tickling Commodity,
Hath drawn him from his own determined aid,—
From a resolved and honourable 'war,

To a most base and vile-concluded 'peace!
And why rail 'I on this Commodity?
But for because he hath not wooed 'me yet:
Well, whiles I am a 'beggar, I will 'rail,
And say, There is no 'sin but to be 'rich;
And 'being rich, my virtue 'then shall be
To say, There is no 'vice, but 'beggary.
Since Kings break faith upon "commodity,"
Gain, be 'my lord-for I will worship 'thee!

We now proceed to the pavilion of the French King: where Lord Salisbury has just informed the Lady Constance and her son Prince Arthur, of the sudden cessation of hostilities consequent on the union of the Dauphin and the Lady Blanch.

L. Con. Gone to be 'married? gone to swear a 'peace?

False blood to false blood joined!... Gone to be 'friends?
Shall Lewis have Blanch? and Blanch those provinces?
It is not so; thou hast mis-spoke, mis-heard;

I have a King's 'oath to the contrary.

Thou shalt be 'punish'd for thus frighting me;
For I am 'sick, and capable of 'fears;

Oppressed with 'wrongs, and therefore 'full of fears;
A widow, 'husbandless, 'subject to fears;

A 'woman, naturally 'born to fears!.

What dost thou mean by shaking of thy head?
Why dost thou look so sadly on my son?
Be these sad signs 'confirmers of thy words?
Then speak again; not all thy 'former tale,
But this 'one word,--whether thy tale be 'true.
Sal. As true as, I believe, you think 'them false

That give you cause to 'prove my saying true.
L. Con. O, if thou teach me to 'believe this sorrow,
Teach thou this sorrow how to make me 'die.
Lewis marry Blanch! O boy, then where art 'thou?
France friend with England! what becomes of 'me? . . .
Fellow, be gone! I cannot 'brook thy sight!

Prince Arthur supplicates:

Arth. I do 'beseech you, madam, be content.

L. Con. If thou, that bidd'st me be content, wert 'grim, Patched with foul moles and eye-offending marks,

Sal.

I would not care; I then would 'be content:
But thou art 'fair; and at thy birth, dear boy,
Nature and Fortune joined to make thee 'great:
Of 'Nature's gifts thou mayst with 'lilies boast,
And with the half-blown rose. But 'Fortune,
She is corrupted, changed, and won from 'thee;
And with her golden hand hath plucked-on France
To tread-down fair respect of sovereignty.
Tell me, thou 'fellow ! is not France 'forsworn?
'Envenom him with words, or get thee gone,
And leave those woes 'alone-which 'I alone
Am bound to under-bear!

Pardon me, madam,

I may not go 'without you to the Kings.

0,

L. Con. Thou mayst,—thou 'shalt; I 'will not go with thee!
I will instruct my sorrows to be 'proud;

For grief is proud, and makes his owner stout."
To 'me, and to the state of my great grief,
Let Kings 'assemble; for my grief's 'so great
That no supporter, but the huge firm Earth,
Can hold it up: here I and Sorrow sit;

Here is my throne,-bid Kings come 'bow to it.

As Constance thus throws herself on the ground, the two Kings, John and Philip, enter, with the newly-married Dauphin and Princess, and the Archduke of Austria-closely followed by Faulconbridge, still watchful to insult him. The King of France thus replies to the anxious inquiring look of the Lady Constance : K. Phi. 'Tis 'true, fair daughter; and this blessed day 'Ever in France shall be kept festival:

The yearly course that brings this day about,
Shall never see it but a 'holiday.

L. Con. A 'wicked day, and not a holy day!

What hath this day 'deserved? what hath it 'done,
That 'it in golden letters should be set
Among the high tides in the calendar?
Nay, rather turn this day 'out of the week,-
This day of shame, oppression, perjury!
This day, all things 'begun come to 'ill end,
Yea, faith itself to hollow 'falsehood change!

K. Phi. By heaven, lady, you shall have 'no cause
To 'curse the fair proceedings of this day:
Have I not pawned to you my 'majesty?

L. Con. You have beguiled me with a counterfeit
'Resembling majesty, which, being touched' and tried,
Proves valueless: You are forsworn, forsworn!
You 'came in arms to 'spill mine enemies' blood,
But now in arms you 'strengthen it with yours;
And 'our oppression hath made up this league.
Arm, arm, you Heavens, against these perjured Kings!
A 'widow cries; be husband to me, Heaven!
Let not the hours of this ungodly day

Wear-out the day in 'peace; but, ere sunset,
Set arméd 'discord 'twixt these perjured Kings!
Hear me, O, hear me!

The two Kings, amazed at the widow's plaint that bursts from her wounded soul, are silent; but the heartless braggart Austria heedlessly interposes:

Aust.

Lady Constance, peace!

L. Con. War! war! 'no peace! peace is to 'me a war..

O Lymoges! O Austria! thou dost 'shame

That bloody spoil!-Thou slave! thou wretch thou coward!

Thou little valiant, great in 'villainy!

Thou ever strong upon the 'stronger side!

Thou 'Fortune's champion, that dost never fight
But when her humorous ladyship is by

To teach thee 'safety! Thou cold-blooded slave!
Hast thou not spoke like thunder on 'my side?
Been sworn 'my soldier? bidding me depend
Upon thy stars,3 thy fortune, and thy strength?
And dost thou now fall-over to my 'foes?
'Thou wear a 'lion's hide? doff it for shame,
And hang a 'calf's-skin on those recreant limbs !
Aust. O, that a 'man should speak those words to me!
Faulconbridge instantly advances :
Faul. And hang a calf's-skin on those recreant limbs.
Aust. Thou dar'st not say so, villain, for thy life!
Faul. And hang a calf's-skin on those recreant limbs.
King John interposes; saying to Faulconbridge—
K. John. We like not this; thou dost forget thyself.

As the angry Sir Richard retires, Cardinal Pandulph approaches to deliver his message from Rome.

2 Tested by the touchstone. 3 Astronomical aspect of the heavenly bodies.

Pand. Hail, you anointed deputies of Heaven !—
To thee, King John, my holy errand is.
I, Pandulph, of fair Milan Cardinal,
And, from Pope Innocent, the Legate here,
Do, in his name, religiously demand

Why thou against the Church, our holy Mother,
So wilfully dost spurn? and, force perforce,
Keep Stephen Langton, chosen Archbishop
Of Canterbury, 'from that holy see?

This, (in our 'foresaid holy Father's name,
Pope Innocent,) I do 'demand of thee.

K. John. What 'earthly name to interrogatories
Can task the free breath of a sacred 'King?
Thou canst not, Cardinal, 'devise a name
So slight, unworthy, and ridiculous,

To charge 'me to an answer, as the 'Pope.

Tell him this tale; and from the mouth of England
'Add thus much more,-That 'no Italian priest
Shall tithe or toll in 'our dominions;

But as we (under Heaven) are supreme head,
So, under Him,-that Great Supremacy,-
Where we do 'reign, we will alone 'uphold,
'Without the assistance of a 'mortal hand:
So 'tell the Pope; all reverence set 'apart,
To him and his 'usurped authority.

King Philip, "the eldest son of the Church," in amazement exclaims:

K. Phi. Brother of England, you 'blaspheme in this!
K. John. Though you, and 'all the kings of Christendom,
Are led so grossly by this meddling Priest,

'Dreading the curse that money may 'buy out;
And, by the merit of vile gold,-dross, dust,-
'Purchase corrupted pardon of a 'man,
Who in that sale 'sells pardon 'from himself ;-
Though you, and all the rest so grossly led,
This juggling witchcraft with revenue cherish,
Yet 'I alone, 'alone do me oppose

Against the Pope, and count 'his friends my 'foes.
Pand. Then, by the lawful power that I have,

Thou shalt stand 'curs'd, and excommunicate:

And 'meritorious shall that hand be called,
That takes away, by 'any secret course,
Thy hateful 'life.