 | Papal tyranny In the reign of King John |  |
1
ACT I.
SCENE I.
A CAMP near ANGIERS.Enter King Philip, the Dauphin, Arthur, with Lady Constance attended.
King PHILIP.
Now, Royal Arthur, injur'd Heir of England!
Behold yon formidable Swarm of War;
That shines, in plum'd Array, to vindicate
Thy Cause, and give Rebuke to Usurpation.
O! never, never to their native Homes,
Dispers'd in Peace, shall those brave Bands return,
Till this bold Town of Angiers stile thee Sov'reign,
Till conquer'd Normandy prepare thy way,
And England to thy royal Right recal thee.
Arth.
O! God-like Philip! now my more than Father!
That I have Life, was Nature's Gift; from you
A greater, nobler Blessing I receive!
That Life, with princely Dignity supported!
But, if hereafter gracious Heav'n ordain,
Your Arms shall seat me on fair England's Throne,
Then shall my Thanks be worthy your Acceptance;
An annual Tribute shall confess the Tenure.
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Alas! thy youthful heart melts to Concessions,
Which, though 'twere laudable in thee to form,
Becomes not elder Honour to receive.
Const.
Then, Philip, give a riper Parent leave to speak,
A widow'd Mother, and an injur'd Princess:
For this Relief, this God-like Aid of Arms,
Receive a Tribute Heav'n it self accepts;
These Tears of Joy, that stream to Philip's Praise,
And Tears, that flow from high-born Hearts oblig'd,
Are Bribes, which the most glorious Kings may take.
K. Phil.
Fair, hapless Relict of renown'd Plantagenet!
Compose thy Heart, and rest thy Cares with us;
Thy Wrongs are ours, and as our own will we
Resent them: for thy Infant Son, our Son
The Dauphin, shall assist his Youth! at once
His Guard, and his Example in the Field;
And teach him, as in sport, the Arts of War!
Embrace him, Boy, and plant him in thy Bosom!
Dauph.
Thus with a Brother's Love my Breast receives him!
Arth.
So sweet a Master, Sir, will make me learn
The hardest Task of Danger with Delight.
Dauph.
Young Prince, if you advance as fast in War,
As you are forward in your School of Honour,
I sooner shall be found your Pupil than your Tutor.
K. Phil.
Here, break we off the Greetings of our Love.
For see! where brave Melun from England comes!
From his Advices must we form our Measures.
Enter Melun.
Now, say Melun, to the Demands of France,
Is Peace, or is Defiance England's Answer?
Melun.
In full Discharge of our Commission, Sir,
In Royal Philip's Name and Arthur's Right,
Roundly we warn'd him to resign, in Peace,
Fair England's Crown with all its just Dominions:
That Crown, which Faction, favour'd by Success,
From lineal Blood had forcibly withheld;
To this King John, after some pause of Scorn,
Reply'd, what follows, on this Claim refus'd?
War! we rejoin'd the just Control of War!
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And bind Allegiance to its lawful Lord.
On this he kindled to such fiery Mood,
As might have well become a better Cause!
“Bear my Defiance to your Master's Teeth,
“He cry'd! The War's begun! nor are you here
“In Safety. Hence make all your speed to Philip,
“Lest our loud Trumpet's March should reach his Ear
“Before you.—
K. Philip.
—Trumpets to Trumpets then, and Drums to Drums
Reply, while blazing War, through Fields and Forts,
Shall sweep her Train of Desolation!
Melun.
Turn then your Forces from this paltry Siege,
And form them to confront a mightier Foe!
For know, King John is landed on our Coast.
K. Philip.
Say'st thou, Melun!
Melun.
—My Liege, too true it is:
I saw him disembark'd, and in review
Adjudg'd his Bodies thrice ten thousand strong.
K. Philip.
Present them in their best Advantage! what!
Well chosen? Veterans, or undisciplin'd?
Melun.
I dare not, Sir, deceive you by a Feint,
Or false Dispraise of what my Eyes were witness:
An Army more compleat, more martially
Prepar'd, yet never trod this northern Herbage!
Their eager March comes onward straight to Angiers;
All flusht and confident, in Strength and Spirit;
Not form'd of Mercenaries, Hinds compell'd,
But Voluntiers, that sport with War, that come
Like crested Champions to a Tournament;
Jocund as Huntsmen at their Sun-rise Meeting,
Or playful Shepherds piping o'er the Lawns,
That having tir'd the Course of idle Pleasures,
Now turn bright Honour into Modes more noble!
With these along a Troop of Beauties pass,
Who form the Court of Lady Blanch of Spain;
And those by martial Lovers are surrounded,
All plum'd and gorgeous, wanton Sons of Fame,
Who having fell'd their Grandsires Oaks at Home,
Carry whole mortgag'd Manors on their Backs,
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In brief, a braver Choice of dauntless Spirits
Than English Bottoms, now have wafted o'er,
Did never float upon the swelling Tide,
To violate the maiden Peace of Europe!
K. Philip.
So swift an Expedition is amazing!
But thou describ'st a Rout of Revellers!
Men that would rather bravely feast than fight—
But be it as it may: we'll find them Entertainment.
Dauph.
Hark! from yon distant northern Hill I hear
The murmuring Drum give signal to the March.
[One whispers Melun.
Melun.
My Liege, a Pursuivant at Arms assures us,
King John is now in View, and would have Parley.
K. Philip.
Be our Reply—Content and royal Welcome.
Now, Madam, shall you prove our Friendship?
Const.
In that alas! tho' confident my Hope,
Yet, Sir, permit me to retire; the Sight
Of Royal Treatment, paid my mortal Foe,
Is more than my afflicted Heart can bear.
K. Philip.
Prince Dauphin, you conduct the Lady Constance
To our Pavilion: Arthur may assist us.
[Exeunt Dauph. and Constance.
But see! he comes! and with a martial Port,
As well befits the Front of Majesty.
Enter King John attended.
K. John.
Forms are the Trappings of deputed Pow'r;
The Speech of Kings should, like the Voice of Heaven,
Be plain: Equality destroys Degree,
And servile Bendings mark inferior Men:
Thus, by our Treaties personal, we wave
Those outside, thin Disguises of the Heart,
And shew, at once, the naked Terms of Honour.
K. Philip.
Such be our Parley; brief and artless.
K. John.
Thus then—If France shall peaceably permit,
That England take possession of her own,
Our Norman Towns, and chiefly this of Angiers;
Then come we, as a Friend, to France in Peace;
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To Heaven—
K. Philip.
—Defiance to Defiance first!
Then thus to thy Demand: Those Norman Towns
Thou speak'st of, France in England's Right has seiz'd.
K. John.
In England's Right? a Seizure made by France!
Hast thou, from England, ought to authorize
This busy meddling in thy Neighbour's Suit?
Officious in a Cause concerns thee not;
Whence is thy Motive to a Part so gracious?
Say, from what Law, what Treaties, or Pretence?
K. Philip.
Must we produce our Voucher then? Behold it here!
[Taking Arthur by the Hand.
Read in this Face thy elder Brother's Feature!
These Eyes, this Aspect molded out of his!
In this fair copy'd Volume is contain'd
The growing Abstract of thy Brother's Virtues!
As Geoffry stood, in lineal Rank, direct
Presumptive Heir to Cœurdelion's Crown;
So stands his Son, to thwart thy crooked Claim:
Then, in the Name of high-offended Heav'n,
How comes it that Earl John is call'd a King,
When living Blood is beating, in these Veins
Of elder Right, to wear the Crown before thee?
K. John.
And whence hast thou this high Commission,
To judge the Right of Crowns and summon Kings,
Like Criminals impeach'd to thy Tribunal?
K. Philip.
From that eternal Judge, who rules on high,
Whose righteous Deputies, on Earth, are Kings!
From him have I receiv'd Authority,
To look into the Blots and Stains of Right:
That Judge appoints me Guardian to this Infant;
By his Commission is thy Claim before me,
And I am bound by Office to reject it.
K. John.
Presumptuous Man! talk'st thou of injur'd Right,
Who would'st thy self usurp the Pow'r of Heav'n?
And, like fantastick Rome, dispose of Empires?
But since that lordly Pontiff has been gracious,
Since his Indulgence deigns to stile me King;
Must John have Philip's Sanction to his Title?
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What Crime alledg'd has set aside young Arthur?
Can Treason, Lunacy, or tainted Blood,
Be once pretended in this Youth's Disfavour?
K. John.
Prevaricating Claim is Cœurdelion's Will,
That gave his Crown to us, of no Validity?
Are we not there his Successor approv'd?
Adopted? by the general States confirm'd?
And is a Nation's Act responsible to thee?
Did not our Norman William claim by Conquest?
And, by his Will, a younger Son succeeded?
Our second William, nay our first Henry too;
Both to their elder Brother Robert's Claim preferr'd?
Wants then our Right a Precedent, or whence
Had Cœurdelion less a Pow'r to make one?
K. Philip.
Where Kingdoms are bequeath'd such Wills are mockery;
But this meer impious Fraud! thy spleeny Mother's Project,
Who, to secure Succession of her Power,
Seduc'd thy Brother to prefer her Minion,
That, under thee, the Creature of her Pride,
Her Passions still might lord it o'er a People!
K. John.
No more! thy Insults tempt my Patience! Hence!
Forth to the field! dispute our Title there!
While grappling War, the Eloquence of Kings,
Shall prove the Victor has his Right from Heav'n!
K. Philip.
Then Heav'n for us! and Angiers be the Umpire!
Sound our immediate Summons to this Town!
A Trumpet ho! for Arthur! France demands it.
[Trumpet sounds on the French side.
K. John.
Now sound on our Side! blow an English Blast!
And let them see their King that will defend them!
[Trumpet on the Part of England.
Enter Governor and Soldiers on the Ramparts.
Gov.
Whence, and from whom, these Trumpets at our Walls!
K. Philip.
The one from France, who here in England's Right,
Demands Possession of your Citadel.
K. John.
England for England speaks, defying France!
And here, in Person, stands with English Pow'rs
To enter and defend your Walls from Violence!
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Right had no need to bring along such Pow'rs.
Gov.
Whence, then, this other Army at our Gates?
K. Philip.
Are you not Subjects all to Cœurdelion's Heir?
Gov.
To his Successor, doubtless, are we subject:
But, if in Terms confus'd of Heir and King,
You now command, now interdict Obedience,
Where shall Obedience find her Safety?—
K. John.
—Here!
Be not deluded, warlike Hearts of Angiers!
This Pow'r of France, that claims in Arthur's Right,
Like the fierce Falcon, clad in Turtle-plumes,
Would tempt you, from your Dove-coat Safety forth;
Then gorge Ambition with your Liberties.
Gov.
How answers France this Allegation?
K. Philip.
Behold this royal Youth, your lawful Lord:
In whose just Cause offensive War, constrain'd
By hospitable Zeal and royal Honour,
Now drags her cumbrous Engines to your Walls!
Be therefore early warn'd; for if you still
Dare set at nought the Terror of our Arms,
'Tis not this Girdle of your mould'ring Ramparts
Shall hide your rebel Heads from Chastisement!
Say then, will you set wide your Gates in Peace,
Or must we stalk in Blood to our Possession?
K. John.
When England shall have spoke, determine:
Whence are yon murderous Ensigns, for a Siege,
And merciless Proceeding now before you?
Has not the Hunger of these Frenchmen brought them,
These meagre Wolves, that prowl in Troops by Night,
Taking th' Advantage of your Owners Absence,
To leap your Fence, and fill your Folds with Slaughter.
Now! at their Peril, let them stir! cry but Halloo!
And I have here a set of English Mastiffs
Shall worry 'em, like Currs, that bark at what
They fear—Now, know your Safety and your King,
Open your Gates, and give your Friends Refreshment.
Gov.
Princes, with Patience have we heard your Contest;
Which, in the balance of our Judgment, weighs but this.
France came, in Athur's Right, to seize this Town;
And England, by a speedy March, prevents it.
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So that to either yielding, we to one are Rebels:
Therefore, on Hazards, will we yield to neither!
Let in yon Field your Troops decide the King,
Then to our King, as Subjects, will we bow:
But, till your Swords or Treaties fix that Right,
Our stubborn Gates are barr'd against the World.
K. John.
Philip, to thee we owe this Disobedience!
K. Philip.
Here, in the Field of Angiers, let Obedience know
Her Lord, and English Liege-men bow to Arthur!
K. John.
This, at the gates of Paris, shall thou answer!
K. Philip.
Answer thy self, thy Crime of injur'd Right,
Thy self a Subject to the Crown thou wear'st!
K. John.
O! thou hast rouz'd the Lion in my Heart,
And all my Brother's Spirit burns to chase thee!
Take to thy Arms!—
K. Philip.
—Mount, Chevaliers! to horse!
K. John.
To Prayers! for Pardon to those Souls of France,
Whose unrepented Sins this Night shall come,
Through England's Vengeance, to eternal Doom.
[Exeunt French and English severally. Trumpets sound on each side to horse.
Constance
enters, from the Tent of Philip.
Now hangs the Crown of England on a Moment!
Decisive War anon demands it fix'd
Upon the Brow of Right, or Usurpation!
How desp'rate, how tremendous is the Stake,
Depending on this instant Cast of Battle!
The Victor, the Defeated—Slave or Monarch!
The regal Sceptre, and the purple Robe
Against the cockled Pilgrim's Rug and Staff!
A Prince in Glory, or a high-born Beggar!
O! miserable, wide Distinction, hark!
[Alarms and at great Distance.
The wafting Winds, in audible Perception,
Set all the Terrors of the Field before me!
This Jar of Drums! the lofty Trumpets Ardour!
The vaunting Echoes of the neighing Steed!
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Of charging Squadrons speak the Battle raging!
Yet, from the wild Confusion, no kind Sound
Distinguishes where Victory inclines;
These sharp Vicissitudes of Hopes and Fears,
Tear me with Torture insupportable!
Conquest suspended is Captivity!
O dreadful, agonizing Interval!—
Hear, Heav'n, my Pray'r! if thy dread Will decrees,
Our House must fall, let not my riper Sins
On hapless Arthur's Head be visited!
O! spare, protect his youthful Innocence!
That Life prolong'd may propagate his Virtues!
This sudden Silence, in the vacant Air,
Seems as if breathless Conquest sought Repose:
Now is our Cause successful, or abandon'd!
Hark! a Retreat is sounded! O! for News,
To quell this Conflict of Uncertainty!
But see! where One 'fore-spent with Toil and Haste,
This way conducts a Youth in Form, my Arthur!
My Pray'rs are heard! 'tis he himself preserv'd,
And living, from the Battle!—O my Life!
Enter Melun with Arthur.
O! welcome! to thy Mother's painful Longings!
To fold thee thus! is more Content than Empire!
Crowns are not worth the anxious Coils they cost us!
O say, my Boy! how could thy tender Limbs
Support the Onsets of this dreadful Day?
Arth.
O 'twas a gallant Horse I rode! train'd up
To War! had I known Fear he would have tham'd me!
He curl'd his Crest, and proudly paw'd the Ground,
And from his vocal Nostrils neigh'd such Fire!
To mount him seem'd the Transport of a Throne!
Const.
My little Soldier! how thy Spirit charms me!
Arth.
But still my Life to this brave Lord we owe:
For when a huge broad Falchion at my Head
Was rais'd, he threw his Body in between,
Warded the Blow, and clove th' Assailant down!
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Const.
Words are too poor, to give such Deeds their Due;
But say, my Lord, what have our Arms decided?
Melun.
Never was Field with greater Bravery fought;
Never did Frenchmen better bear their Spirits,
Nor English Courage more approve their Pasture!
While War, like Justice, weigh'd out Life for Life,
Pale Conquest hover'd in the Air amaz'd,
Nor knew on whom to drop her Chaplet down;
Whether to grace the Brow of France or England:
And though their fainting Spirits equally
Desist, unable to renew the Charge;
Yet each dispute what neither has deser'vd,
Nor Triumph, nor Defeat; nor Chains, nor Victory.
Const.
What Miseries are mine, that neither War
Decides, nor long Endurance can asswage?
Melun.
Have better Hopes, for as I left the Field,
A Trumpet from the Town of Angiers came,
To ask an Interview for Terms of Peace.
Const.
Said'st thou of Peace! what Peace can France admit,
But on the lost, the ruin'd Rights of Arthur?
O yet return, and bring me better News!
Back to this fatal Interview, while I
Pensive retire, and sigh my Griefs to Heav'n!
Melun.
Madam, these peaceful Pow'rs are now at hand.
Your Presence may perhaps assist your Cause,
Which private Sorrow would but ill defend.
Const.
You counsel well; nor will I tamely lose it!
Enter King John, leading Lady Blanch, Falconbridge, &c. attended. Trumpets.
K. John.
Now, fairest Blanch, thy Terrors, from the Field,
Shall cease, and frowning War no more dismay thee:
This happy Interview shall heal our Wounds;
Thy smiling Hours henceforth be lost in Pleasure;
To rude Alarms succeed the midnight Revel,
And thou, as Queen, in Normandy shall reign.
Blanch.
Alas! what Happiness might Kings enjoy,
Could Honour mark the Bounds of their Ambition!
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Be Honour, then, our Umpire—France approaches.
Enter on the opposite Side King Philip and Dauphin attended. After them, from the Gates of Angiers, enter the Abbot, with Priests and Citizens.
K. Philip.
Now restless England! are thy Troops content,
Or would they more of use?—
K. John.
—Would France have more?
Have not these men of Angiers, from their Walls,
Stood Witness of the Havock we have made?
K. Philip.
Or have they not, with equal eyes, beheld
The Swords of France stain'd in the Blood of England?
Abbot.
Princes, with equal Sorrow have we seen
The fatal Waste of your contending Powers:
Since then your Loss is mutual in the Field,
Let in the Cabinet your Counsels conquer.
Kings most are Kings, where Peace protects the Subject.
K. Philip.
Less of your Morals, and of Purpose more.
Abbot.
As Angiers, then, can but one Lord obey,
Let to the other one resign that Title,
Contented with a due Equivalent,
Which to your royal Option we shall name;
Then, on such Compact, shall our wide-thrown gates
Fly from their Hinges to receive their Master.
But if in hostile Enmity's persisting—
K. Philip.
Dar'st thou again defy us? Hence—
K. John.
—Speak on!
Abbot.
Glory, though deaf to dying Groans in War,
May lend a pitying Ear to Peace unsoil'd.
Const.
Kings, by your Leave! and ere this Raven's Voice
Presume, again, to croak his bold Rebellion;
Hear once a Woman's nobler Sense of Glory!
If my free Speech on either Part sound partial,
Then both to my abandon'd Fortunes leave me.
How dare these Vassals, lying at your Mercy,
Audaciously set Bounds to royal Right;
And Traitors, as they are, give Laws to Monarchs!
If you are Kings, resent this Insolence!
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Both play your Engines on their crumbling Walls,
Till an unhous'd and fenceless Desolation
Sweep them as level, as the Seas becalm'd:
Then to your separate Banners each return,
And Front to Front decide the Right of Empire!
Thus your coy Mistress Fortune, charm'd by Conquest,
Shall from the dreadful Battle chuse her Minion,
And kiss him with a glorious Victory!
K. Philip.
Now, by yon Sky, that hangs above our Heads!
'Tis nobly thought: These Insolents deserve
This Chastisement: Say, then, will England join
To vindicate the Cause of regal Honour,
And bury Angiers in immediate Ruin?
K. John.
Well hast thou offer'd France! Each to his Charge!
Which Front lies fairest to our English Vengeance?
K. Philip.
If England so approve, France from the South
Shall thunder—
K. John.
—England from the North shall echo!
Abbot.
O! hear us! hear, you royal Potentates!
Stop this impatient Rigour of your Arms,
And God-like hearken to the Cries of Peace!
Be Heav'n's Vicegerents, and protect your Subjects!
Let us but know our King, and we obey him;
Then name his Foe, and we oppose him;
But let not this Resource of Female Spleen
Mislead you to an Act of Cruelty!
She, like the childless Mother fam'd in Story,
Yielding the Infant to be carv'd and mangled,
Betrays the Secret of her spurious Claim.
K. John.
'Tis true! the Inference yet asks Attention.
Const.
(Apart ... )
How wild are the Expedients of Despair!
But who, in Injuries like mine, is temp'rate?
Rather let Angiers know a lawless Lord,
Than to the Rightful be their Lives a Sacrifice. ( ... Apart)
Princes, I wave my Plea, and now to France appeal;
In whose firm Honour is my only Hope.
K. Philip.
Madam, you there with Safety may repose it.
Const.
What Heav'n wills be done; but I fear the Issue!
These royal Parleys bode no good to me.
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And meditate, resign'd, the Ills that wait me.
Thus, while these Eagles hover in the Air,
The trembling Turtle, with her only Young,
Shrinks in her Nest, and dreads impending Wrong.
[Exit Constance with Arthur.
K. John.
Lord Abbot, now proceed: we pause to hear thee.
Abbot.
Then, briefly, for the gen'ral Welfare, thus.
Among the Wonders of your princely Trains,
Your Pardon, if I see a royal Pair,
In Birth, in blooming Age, in Virtues equal,
(O! be the Sight prophetick to our Hopes)
The lovely Blanch is near in Blood to England,
Lewis, the royal Dauphin, Heir to France.
If courtly Love in search of Beauty goes,
Where could he find it fairer than in Blanch?
If virtuous Love in search of Virtue goes,
Where shall he find it purer than in Blanch?
If proud Ambition seeks a Bride of Birth,
What purple Fountain runs through nobler Veins?
Who then to such transcendent Maiden Charms
Can lay a Claim superior to this Dauphin?
What Youth can equal him, what Virgin her?
Yet, as they are, are each but half themselves:
O! two such fair divided Excellencies,
Join'd in one Love, might heal, with happier Peace,
The Wounds of War, and make up full Perfection!
Dauph.
Had I a Hermit's Blood, a Cause so pleaded,
A Virgin so adorn'd, with holy Praise,
Had fir'd my Heart, and preach'd it into Love.
Abbot.
Turn then, great Pow'rs, your hostile Rage to Peace!
Bind up your Feuds in these soft Bonds of Union;
And, like indulgent Heav'n, from lowring Clouds,
Pour down your Blessings on your joyful People!
Dauph.
My royal Father, take this holy Counsel;
Give Peace to England, and Repose to me!
For never will my Heart know Rest, 'till there
A passive Smile permits me to complain.
K. Philip.
Those Smiles, my Son, are in the Gift of England.
14
Thus then to England for the general Weal,
Suppliant I bend my Knee, and beg for Peace:
This Knee, which never could to Int'rest bow,
Compell'd by Love, may bend with Honour.
K. John.
Spoke, like a royal Woer, and if France
Approve this Sally of thy youthful Heart,
As she in Beauty, Education, Blood,
Holds Hands with any Princess of the World,
Her Dowry shall weigh equal with the proudest.
K. Philip.
Let England ratify his Word, and France
With royal Sanction shall confirm this Treaty.
K. John.
Far, as our Pow'r may warrant the Consent
Of Virgin Modesty, which Love must conquer,
We here approve this holy Father's Counsel;
And, for the Dowry of this high-born Maid,
Yield we the Provinces of Anjou, Main,
Eureux, and all those Towns, that to the Sea,
From hence, by due Inheritance we claim:
With thrice ten thousand Marks of English Gold
To grace her bridal Bed, and seal this Peace.
K. Philip.
A royal Dowry, consonant to Honour,
And be the Virgin free, our Love accepts it:
Now England—
Dauph.
—Pardon, royal Sir, my Transport!
For now, methinks, what farther might be said,
Seems due to Beauty from the Lover's Tongue.
O! beauteous Maid! vouchsafe a patient Ear!
If as a Prince I sue, short is my Plea:
These royal Advocates have strongly urg'd it:
If, as a Lover, how shall I approach thee?
How in one Moment can I ask for Hope,
Or how shall Nations wait till I deserve thee?
O! that thy Form had sprung from humble Race:
That, then, I might have given my panting Heart
Th' Advantage of Degree, and ev'n on Sight possess'd thee.
Blanch.
Prince, to my Birth you all Advantage owe;
Were I, like private Virgins, free to love,
Then Modesty our Sex's Guard and Grace,
With Coldness had receiv'd your tenderest Vows,
And for your Sighs, the wafting Winds had caught them:
15
Are Slaves in Love, where happier Subjects reign:
The Hearts of royal Maids, like publick Treasure,
Are to the Exigents of State assign'd,
While private Comfort is referr'd to Virtue.
Of this had I been train'd in Ignorance,
Then yielding thus my Hand had dy'd these Cheeks
With Shame; but conscious what I owe the Publick,
With the same joyful Pride I seal this Peace,
As counter-signing Ministers attest it.
Dauph.
From Heaven this Joy descends.
K. John.
England and France are one.
King John and King Philip embrace, then join the Hands of Blanch and Dauphin.
Blanch.
Love must from Love—
Dauph.
—Love shall of Love be born.
K. Philip.
Your Office, holy Father, shall we next
Intreat, for at St. Mary's Altar straight
This royal Marriage will we solemnize.
You, Lord Melun, to Lady Constance haste,
With whom this Peace, alas! will sort but ill;
Bid her have Cheer, and tempt her to this Festival.
K. John.
You, Cousin, on the Part of England greet her.
[To Falcon.
Tell her these Times shall cure her sickly Fortunes;
All shall be heal'd: Arthur, her Infant Son,
In Honour to this Peace shall shine in Dignities:
This Day we Duke of Bretagne will salute him,
Of Richmond Earl, say such our Word creates him.
Now to our Solemnity—
Dauph.
—Now lovely Blanch!
Never had Angiers such a welcome Guest;
Thus when, of old, the Dove was sent t' explore
The long-wish'd Blessings of a rising Shore;
At length a distant springing Grove she spies,
Crops the first Branch, a sure credential Prize;
Then to the happy Ark resumes her Wings,
And to the World preserv'd the peaceful Olive brings.
[They all enter the Town with Trumpets sounding, Acclamations, &c.
| Papal tyranny In the reign of King John | |