| ACT V SCENE II | LEWIS's camp at St. Edmundsbury. | |
| | Enter, in arms, LEWIS, SALISBURY, MELUN, PEMBROKE, BIGOT, and Soldiers. | |
| LEWIS | My Lord Melun, let this be copied out, | |
| | And keep it safe for our remembrance: | |
| | Return the precedent to these lords again; | |
| | That, having our fair order written down, | 5 |
| | Both they and we, perusing o'er these notes, | |
| | May know wherefore we took the sacrament | |
| | And keep our faiths firm and inviolable. | |
| SALISBURY | Upon our sides it never shall be broken. | |
| | And, noble Dauphin, albeit we swear | 10 |
| | A voluntary zeal and an unurged faith | |
| | To your proceedings; yet believe me, prince, | |
| | I am not glad that such a sore of time | |
| | Should seek a plaster by contemn'd revolt, | |
| | And heal the inveterate canker of one wound | 15 |
| | By making many. O, it grieves my soul, | |
| | That I must draw this metal from my side | |
| | To be a widow-maker! O, and there | |
| | Where honourable rescue and defence | |
| | Cries out upon the name of Salisbury! | 20 |
| | But such is the infection of the time, | |
| | That, for the health and physic of our right, | |
| | We cannot deal but with the very hand | |
| | Of stern injustice and confused wrong. | |
| | And is't not pity, O my grieved friends, | 25 |
| | That we, the sons and children of this isle, | |
| | Were born to see so sad an hour as this; | |
| | Wherein we step after a stranger march | |
| | Upon her gentle bosom, and fill up | |
| | Her enemies' ranks,--I must withdraw and weep | 30 |
| | Upon the spot of this enforced cause,-- | |
| | To grace the gentry of a land remote, | |
| | And follow unacquainted colours here? | |
| | What, here? O nation, that thou couldst remove! | |
| | That Neptune's arms, who clippeth thee about, | 35 |
| | Would bear thee from the knowledge of thyself, | |
| | And grapple thee unto a pagan shore; | |
| | Where these two Christian armies might combine | |
| | The blood of malice in a vein of league, | |
| | And not to spend it so unneighbourly! | 40 |
| LEWIS | A noble temper dost thou show in this; | |
| | And great affections wrestling in thy bosom | |
| | Doth make an earthquake of nobility. | |
| | O, what a noble combat hast thou fought | |
| | Between compulsion and a brave respect! | 45 |
| | Let me wipe off this honourable dew, | |
| | That silverly doth progress on thy cheeks: | |
| | My heart hath melted at a lady's tears, | |
| | Being an ordinary inundation; | |
| | But this effusion of such manly drops, | 50 |
| | This shower, blown up by tempest of the soul, | |
| | Startles mine eyes, and makes me more amazed | |
| | Than had I seen the vaulty top of heaven | |
| | Figured quite o'er with burning meteors. | |
| | Lift up thy brow, renowned Salisbury, | 55 |
| | And with a great heart heave away the storm: | |
| | Commend these waters to those baby eyes | |
| | That never saw the giant world enraged; | |
| | Nor met with fortune other than at feasts, | |
| | Full of warm blood, of mirth, of gossiping. | 60 |
| | Come, come; for thou shalt thrust thy hand as deep | |
| | Into the purse of rich prosperity | |
| | As Lewis himself: so, nobles, shall you all, | |
| | That knit your sinews to the strength of mine. | |
| | And even there, methinks, an angel spake: | 65 |
| | Enter CARDINAL PANDULPH. | |
| | Look, where the holy legate comes apace, | |
| | To give us warrant from the hand of heaven | |
| | And on our actions set the name of right | |
| | With holy breath. | |
| CARDINAL PANDULPH | Hail, noble prince of France! | 70 |
| | The next is this, King John hath reconciled | |
| | Himself to Rome; his spirit is come in, | |
| | That so stood out against the holy church, | |
| | The great metropolis and see of Rome: | |
| | Therefore thy threatening colours now wind up; | 75 |
| | And tame the savage spirit of wild war, | |
| | That like a lion foster'd up at hand, | |
| | It may lie gently at the foot of peace, | |
| | And be no further harmful than in show. | |
| LEWIS | Your grace shall pardon me, I will not back: | 80 |
| | I am too high-born to be propertied, | |
| | To be a secondary at control, | |
| | Or useful serving-man and instrument, | |
| | To any sovereign state throughout the world. | |
| | Your breath first kindled the dead coal of wars | 85 |
| | Between this chastised kingdom and myself, | |
| | And brought in matter that should feed this fire; | |
| | And now 'tis far too huge to be blown out | |
| | With that same weak wind which enkindled it. | |
| | You taught me how to know the face of right, | 90 |
| | Acquainted me with interest to this land, | |
| | Yea, thrust this enterprise into my heart; | |
| | And come ye now to tell me John hath made | |
| | His peace with Rome? What is that peace to me? | |
| | I, by the honour of my marriage-bed, | 95 |
| | After young Arthur, claim this land for mine; | |
| | And, now it is half-conquer'd, must I back | |
| | Because that John hath made his peace with Rome? | |
| | Am I Rome's slave? What penny hath Rome borne, | |
| | What men provided, what munition sent, | 100 |
| | To underprop this action? Is't not I | |
| | That undergo this charge? who else but I, | |
| | And such as to my claim are liable, | |
| | Sweat in this business and maintain this war? | |
| | Have I not heard these islanders shout out | 105 |
| | 'Vive le roi!' as I have bank'd their towns? | |
| | Have I not here the best cards for the game, | |
| | To win this easy match play'd for a crown? | |
| | And shall I now give o'er the yielded set? | |
| | No, no, on my soul, it never shall be said. | 110 |
| CARDINAL PANDULPH | You look but on the outside of this work. | |
| LEWIS | Outside or inside, I will not return | |
| | Till my attempt so much be glorified | |
| | As to my ample hope was promised | |
| | Before I drew this gallant head of war, | 115 |
| | And cull'd these fiery spirits from the world, | |
| | To outlook conquest and to win renown | |
| | Even in the jaws of danger and of death. | |
| | Trumpet sounds. | |
| | What lusty trumpet thus doth summon us? | |
| | Enter the BASTARD, attended. | |
| BASTARD | According to the fair play of the world, | 120 |
| | Let me have audience; I am sent to speak: | |
| |
My holy lord of Milan, from the king | |
| | I come, to learn how you have dealt for him; | |
| | And, as you answer, I do know the scope | |
| | And warrant limited unto my tongue. | 125 |
| CARDINAL PANDULPH | The Dauphin is too wilful-opposite, | |
| | And will not temporize with my entreaties; | |
| | He flatly says he'll not lay down his arms. | |
| BASTARD | By all the blood that ever fury breathed, | |
| | The youth says well. Now hear our English king; | 130 |
| | For thus his royalty doth speak in me. | |
| | He is prepared, and reason too he should: | |
| | This apish and unmannerly approach, | |
| | This harness'd masque and unadvised revel, | |
| | This unhair'd sauciness and boyish troops, | 135 |
| | The king doth smile at; and is well prepared | |
| | To whip this dwarfish war, these pigmy arms, | |
| | From out the circle of his territories. | |
| | That hand which had the strength, even at your door, | |
| | To cudgel you and make you take the hatch, | 140 |
| | To dive like buckets in concealed wells, | |
| | To crouch in litter of your stable planks, | |
| | To lie like pawns lock'd up in chests and trunks, | |
| | To hug with swine, to seek sweet safety out | |
| | In vaults and prisons, and to thrill and shake | 145 |
| | Even at the crying of your nation's crow, | |
| | Thinking his voice an armed Englishman; | |
| | Shall that victorious hand be feebled here, | |
| | That in your chambers gave you chastisement? | |
| | No: know the gallant monarch is in arms | 150 |
| | And like an eagle o'er his aery towers, | |
| | To souse annoyance that comes near his nest. | |
| | And you degenerate, you ingrate revolts, | |
| | You bloody Neroes, ripping up the womb | |
| | Of your dear mother England, blush for shame; | 155 |
| | For your own ladies and pale-visaged maids | |
| | Like Amazons come tripping after drums, | |
| | Their thimbles into armed gauntlets change, | |
| | Their needles to lances, and their gentle hearts | |
| | To fierce and bloody inclination. | 160 |
| LEWIS | There end thy brave, and turn thy face in peace; | |
| | We grant thou canst outscold us: fare thee well; | |
| | We hold our time too precious to be spent | |
| | With such a brabbler. | |
| CARDINAL PANDULPH | Give me leave to speak. | 165 |
| BASTARD | No, I will speak. | |
| LEWIS | We will attend to neither. | |
| | Strike up the drums; and let the tongue of war | |
| | Plead for our interest and our being here. | |
| BASTARD | Indeed your drums, being beaten, will cry out; | 170 |
| | And so shall you, being beaten: do but start | |
| | An echo with the clamour of thy drum, | |
| | And even at hand a drum is ready braced | |
| | That shall reverberate all as loud as thine; | |
| | Sound but another, and another shall | 175 |
| | As loud as thine rattle the welkin's ear | |
| | And mock the deep-mouth'd thunder: for at hand, | |
| | Not trusting to this halting legate here, | |
| | Whom he hath used rather for sport than need | |
| | Is warlike John; and in his forehead sits | 180 |
| | A bare-ribb'd death, whose office is this day | |
| | To feast upon whole thousands of the French. | |
| LEWIS | Strike up our drums, to find this danger out. | |
| BASTARD | And thou shalt find it, Dauphin, do not doubt. | |
| | Exeunt | |
