Your breath first kindled the dead coal of wars, After young Arthur, claim this land for mine; Because that John hath made his peace with Rome? No, on my soul, it never shall be said. [Trumpet sounds. What lusty trumpet thus doth summon us? Enter FAULCONBRIDGE and ENGLISH GENTLEMEN. Pan. The dauphin is too wilful-opposite, Faul. By all the blood that ever fury breath'd, He is prepar'd, and reason too he should, Shall that victorious hand be feebled here, That in your chambers gave you chastisement? To souse annoyance that comes near his nest.- We hold our time too precious to be spent With such a brabbler. Pan. Give me leave to speak. Faul. No, I will speak. Lew. We will attend to neither : Strike up the drums; and let the tongue of war Faul. Indeed, your drums, being beaten, will cry out: And so shall you, being beaten: Do but start And mock the deep-mouth'd thunder :-for at hand, Whom he hath us'd rather for sport than need, G SCENE III. England. A Field of Battle. Drums, Trumpets, Shouts, &c. Enter HUBERT, KING JOHN, ENGLISH GentleMEN, and GUARDS. K. John. How goes the day with us? O tell me, Hubert. Hub. Badly, I fear: How fares your majesty? K. John. This fever, that hath troubled me so long, Lies heavy on me :-O, my heart is sick! Enter ENGLISH HERALD. E. Her. My lord, your valiant kinsman, Faulconbridge, Desires your majesty to leave the field; And send him word by me, which way you go. K. John. Tell him toward Swinstead, to the abbey there. E. Her. Be of good comfort: for the great supply, That was expected by the Dauphin here, Are wreck'd three nights ago on Goodwin sands. [Exit ENGLISH HERALDS. [Drums, Trumpets &c.-Exeunt. SCENE IV. England. The French Camp. Alarums. Enter SALISBURY, PEMBROKE, and ESSEX. Ess. I did not think the king so stor'd with friends. Pem. Up once again; put spirit in the French; If they miscarry, we miscarry too. Sal. That misbegotten devil, Faulconbridge, In spite of spite, alone upholds the day. Pem. They say, King John, sore sick, hath left the field. Enter CHATILLON wounded, and led by Two FRENCH Cha. Lead me to the revolts of England here. Sal. Wounded to death. Cha. Fly, noble English; you are bought and sold; Unthread the rude eye of rebellion, And welcome home again 'discarded faith. Sal. May this be possible? may this be true? I say again, if Lewis do win the day, Even this ill night, your breathing shall expire.- Sal. We do believe thee,-And beshrew my soul, But I do love the favour and the form Of this most fair occasion, by the which And, like a bated and retired flood, Stoop low within those bounds we have o'erlook'd, Even to our ocean, to our great King John.— Right in thine eye.-Away, my friends! [Drums and Trumpets, &c.-Exeunt, leading off CHATILLON. SCENE V. England. A different Part of the French Camp. A Retreat sounded. Enter LEWIS, FRENCH GENTLEMEN, and GUARDS. Lewis. The sun of Heaven, methought, was loath to set; |