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,

For thus his royalty doth speak in me.

He is prepared, and reason too he should.

This apish and unmannerly approach,

This harnessed masque and unadvised revel,

This unhaired sauciness and boyish troops,

The King doth smile at, and is well prepared

To whip this dwarfish war, these pigmy arms, 135

From out the circle of his territories.

That hand which had the strength even at your door

To cudgel you and make you take the hatch,

To dive like buckets in concealed wells,

To crouch in litter of your stable planks,

To lie like pawns locked up in chests and trunks,

To hug with swine, to seek sweet safety out

In vaults and prisons, and to thrill and shake

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,

And like an eagle o’er his eyrie towers

To souse annoyance that comes near his nest.

(To the English lords)

And you degenerate, you ingrate revolts,

You bloody Neros, ripping up the womb

Of your dear mother England, blush for shame;

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.

LOUIS THE DAUPHIN

There end thy brave, and turn thy face in peace.

We grant thou canst outscold us. Fare thee well: 160

We hold our time too precious to be spent

With such a brabbler.

PANDOLF Give me leave to speak.

BASTARD

No, I will speak.

LouisTHE DAUPHIN 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;

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

As loud as thine rattle the welkin’s ear,

And mock the deep-mouthed 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

A bare-ribbed Death, whose office is this day

To feast upon whole thousands of the French.

LOUIS THE DAUPHIN

Strike up our drums to find this danger out.

BASTARD

And thou shalt find it, Dauphin, do not doubt.

⌈Drums beat.⌉ Exeunt the Bastard Fat onedoor⌉, all the rest, ⌈marching, at another door⌉

5.3 Alarum. Enter King John Fat one door and Hubert ⌈at another door⌉

KING JOHN

How goes the day with us? O, tell me, Hubert.

HUBERT

Badly, I fear. How fares your majesty?

KING JOHN

This fever that hath troubled me so long

Lies heavy on me. O, my heart is sick!

Enter a Messenger

MESSENGER

My lord, your valiant kinsman Falconbridge

Desires your majesty to leave the field,

And send him word by me which way you go.

KING JOHN

Tell him toward Swineshead, to the abbey there.

MESSENGER

Be of good comfort, for the great supply

That was expected by the Dauphin here

Are wrecked three nights ago on Goodwin Sands.

This news was brought to Richard, but even now

The French fight coldly and retire themselves.

KING JOHN

Ay me, this tyrant fever burns me up,

And will not let me welcome this good news.

Set on toward Swineshead. To my litter straight;

Weakness possesseth me, and I am faint. Exeunt

5.4 ⌈Alarum.⌉Enter the Earls of Salisbury and Pembroke, and Lord Bigot

SALISBURY

I did not think the King so stored with friends.

PEMBROKE

Up once again; put spirit in the French.

If they miscarry, we miscarry too.

SALISBURY

That misbegotten devil Falconbridge,

In spite of spite, alone upholds the day.

PEMBROKE

They say King John, sore sick, hath left the field.

Enter Count Melun, wounded, ⌈led by a soldier⌉

MELUN

Lead me to the revolts of England here.

SALISBURY

When we were happy, we had other names.

PEMBROKE

It is the Count Melun.

SALISBURY Wounded to death.

MELUN

Fly, noble English, you are bought and sold.

Unthread the rude eye of rebellion,

And welcome home again discarded faith;

Seek out King John and fall before his feet,

For if the French be lords of this loud day

He means to recompense the pains you take

By cutting off your heads. Thus hath he sworn,

And I with him, and many more with me,

Upon the altar at Saint Edmundsbury,

Even on that altar where we swore to you

Dear amity and everlasting love.

SALISBURY

May this be possible? May this be true?

MELUN

Have I not hideous death within my view,