KING 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 Salsbury, Admit the Lord Shattilion to our presence; That we may know what Philip King of France (By his Ambassadors) requires of us. My Lord Chattilion, welcome into England: How fares our Brother Philip King of France? And spare not man, we are prepared to hear. A small request: belike he makes account That England, Ireland, Poiters, Anjou, Torain, Main, 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. It is, and too good and answer for so proud a message. Pembroke, convey him safely to the sea, But not in hast: for as we are advised, We mean to be in France as soon as he, To fortesie such towns as we possess In Anjou, Torain and in Normandy. Will them come near, and while we hear the cause, Go Salsbury and make provision, We mean with speed to pass the sea to France. Say Shrieve, what are these men, what have they done? Or whereto tends the course of this appeal? My Lord of Essex, will the offenders to stand forth, and tell the cause of their quarrel. Found Youth, to trouble these our Princely ears Or make a question in so plain a case: Speak, is this man thine elder Brother born? A doubtful tale as ever I did hear, Thy Brother and thine elder, and no heir: Explain this dark Aenigma. Prove this, the land is thine by England's law. Lady, stand up, be patient for a while: And fellow, say, whose bastard is thy brother. Is this thy proof, and all thou hast to say? And where thou sayest he looks Like the King In Actium, feature and proportion: Therein I hold with Thee, for in my life I never saw so lively counterfeit Of Richard Cordelion, as in him. 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 knowest not, weel ask of them that know, His mother and himself shall end this strife: And as they say, so shall thy living pass. Lords keep him back, and let him hear the doom. Essex, first ask the Mother thrice who was his Sire? Ask Philip whose Son he is. Say who was thy Father? Essex, for fashions sake demand again, And so and end to this contention. Young man how now, what art thou in a trance? Then Philip blame not me, thy self hast lost By wilfulness, thy living and thy land. Robert, thou art the heir of Fauconbridge, God give thee joy, greater than thy desert. Philip kneel down, that thou mayest thoroughly know How much thy resolution pleases us, Rise up Sir Richard Plantagenet K. Richard's Son. 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 towards the main charges of my wars, I'll cease the lazy Abbey lubbers lands Into my hands to pay my men of war. The Pope and Pop li g shall not grease themselves With gold and groats, that are the soldiers endue. Thus forward Lords, let our command be done, And march we forward mightily to France. Manet Philip and his Mother. Know King of France, I will not be commanded By any power or Prince in Christendom, To yield and 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. I shall not come in then? You Citizens of Angiers, have your eyes Beheld the slaughter that our English bows Have made upon the coward frawdfull French? And have you wisely pondered therewithal Your gain in you lding to the English King? Why Philip, though thou bravest it before the walls, Thy conscience knows that John hath won the field. Lady, what answer make you to the King of France? Can you affect the Dolphin for your Lord? 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 money thirty thousand marks. For land I leave it to thine own demand. Now every thing is sor ed to this end, Lets in and there prepare the marriage rites, Which in S. Mary's Chapel presently Shall be performed ere this Presence partly. 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. Speak Philip, England grants thee thy request. Philip, We cannot force the Duke to fight, Being a subject unto neither Realm: But tell me Austria, if and English Duke Should dare thee thus, wouldst thou accept the challenge? Then cheer thee Philip, John will keep his word, Kneel down, in sighed 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. Stay Philip, let him go the honours thine. 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 Mai ster so from me, and say, John of England said it, that never and Italian Priest of them all, shall either have tithe, tole, or po ling penny out of England, but as I am King, so will I reign next under God, supreme head both over spiritual and tem rall: and he that contradicts me in this, I'll make him hop headless. Philip, though thou and all the Princes of Christian dome suffer themselves to be abused by a Prelates slavery, my mind is not of such base temper. If the Pope will be King in England, let him win it with the sword, I know no other title he can allege to mine inheritance. What then? 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. Brother of France, what say you to the Cardinal? Obey the Pope, and break your oath to God? Why Philip, I defy the Pope and Thee, False as thou art, and periurde K. of France, Unworthy man to be accounted King. Givest thou thy sword into a Prelates 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 Pope. 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, ight for your King that fights for your good? Thus right triumphs, and John triumphs in right. thou seest, France cannot bolster thee: Thy Mother's pride hath brought thee to this fallen. But if at last, Nephew thou yield thy self Into the gardance of thine Uncle John, Thou shalt be used as becomes a Prince. 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. To England Lords, each look unto your charge, And arm yourselves against the Roman pride. Now warlike followers rests ought undone That may impeach us of foud 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 and overmatch. The Arch proud titled Priest of Italy, That calls himself grand Vicar under God Is busied now with trental obsequies, Mass and mouths mind, dirge and I know not what To ease their souls in painful purgatory, That have miscarried in these bloody wars. Herd you not Lords when first his holiness Had tidings of our small account of him, How with a taunt vaunting upon his toes He vrdge a reason why the English Ass Disdaingd the blessed ordinance of Room? The title (reverently might I infer) Became the Kings that erst have born 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 passed (Simply devoted to the Sea of Room ) 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 wel-growing stock, It rests we throughout our Territories Be reproclaimed and invested King. Pembroke perform what I have bid Thee do, Thou knowest not what induceth me to this. Essex go in, and Lordings all be gone About this task, I will be crowned anon. 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 before the springs 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? Thou tellest me marvels, would thou hadst brought the man, We might have questioned him of things to come. Nay stay awhile, wée'l have him here anon, A thing of weight is first to be performed. Lordings and friends supporters of our state, Admire not at this vnaccustomd course, Nor in your thoughts blame not this deed of yours. Once ere this time was I invested King, Your fealty sworn as Li gmen 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 craude 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 Actium 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. My words passed, receive your boon my Lords. What may it be? Ask it, and it is yours. 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? What might portend these apparitions, Unusual signs, forerunners of event, Presagers of strange terror to the world: Believe me Lords the object fears me much. Philip thou toldst me of me of Vizard late, Fetch in the man to descant of this show. Is this the man? Prophet of Pomfret, for so I hear thou art, That calculatst of many things to come: Who by a power replete with heavenly gift Canst blab the counsel of thy Makers will. If fam be true, or truth be wronged by thee, Decide in cyphering what these five Moons Portend this Climb, 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. 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 Climb? False Dreamer, perish with thy witched news, Villain thou woundest 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, hells damned secretary. Lock him up sure: for by my faith I swear, True or not true, the Vizard 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 my self, The root does live, from whence these thorns spring up, I and my promise passed for his deliury: 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 loud you better, I would not buy it with my discontent. How now, what news with thee. Then with him die my cares. And are you gone? The devil be your guide: Proud Rebels as you 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, breath not bugs words to soon abroad, Least 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 and 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 shrowdly at my room: But to prevent that plea twice was I crowned, Twice did my subjects swear me fealty, And in my conscience loud me as their liege, In whose defence they would have pawned their lives. But now they shun me as a Serpents sting, A tragic Tyrant stern and pitiless, And not a title follows after John. But Butcher, bloodsucker and murderer, What Planet gouernde my nativity, To bode me sovereign types of high estate, So interlacte 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. What lives he? Then sweet hope come home again, Chase hence desp ire, the purveyor for hell. High Hubert, tell these tidings to my Lords That throb in passion for young Arthurs death: Hence Hubert, stay not till thou hast revealed The wished news of Arthurs happy health. I go my self, the ioyfulst man alive To story out this new supposed crime. 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. Speak man, be sudden, who thy Father was. I was no less persuaded: then in Gods name open your gates, and let me enter. Herold, what answer do the Townsmen send? Brother of France, you hear the Citizens: Then tell me, how you mean to deal herein. 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. And what say you to our league, if I do not submit? Why so, then he may feel the crown, but never see it. What is he dead? Ah dull conceited peasant knowest thou not, It was a damned execrable deed: Showest me a seal? O villain, both our souls Have sold their freedom to the thrall of hell, Under the warrant of that cursed seal. Hence villain, hang thy self, and say in hell That I am coming for a kingdom there. 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 joust claim. What wants, my sword shall more at large set down. You men of Angiers, 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 & your rest. Say then, who who keep you the Town for? I accept the challenge, and turn the defiance to thy throat. 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, Ʋ olquesson, Poiters, Anjou, Torain, Main, And thirty thousand marks of stipend coin. Now Citizens, how Like you of this match?