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Fare you well.— Do we but find the tyrant's power to-night, Let us be beaten, if we cannot fight. [all breath, Macd. Make all our trumpets speak; give them Those clamorous harbingers of blood and death. [Exeunt. Alarums continued.
SCENE VII.-The same. Another part of the Plain. Enter MACBETH.
Macb. They have tied me to a stake; I cannot fly, But, bear-like, I must fight the course.-What's he, That was not born of woman? Such a one Am I to fear, or none.
Enter young SIWARD. Yo. Siw. What is thy name? Macb.
Thou'lt be afraid to hear it. Yo. Siw. No; though thou call'st thyself a hotter Than any is in hell. [name Macb. My name's Macbeth. Yo. Siw. The devil himself could not pronounce More hateful to mine ear. [a title Macb. No, nor more fearful. Yo. Siw. Thou liest, abhorred tyrant; with my I'll prove the lie thou speak'st. [sword (They fight, and young Siward is slain.) Macb. Thou wast born of woman.— But swords I smile at, weapons laugh to scorn, Brandish'd by man that's of a woman born. [Exit.
Alarums. Enter MACDUFF.
Macd. That way the noise is :—Tyrant, show thy face:
If thou be'st slain, and with no stroke of mine,
My wife and children's ghosts will haunt me still.
I cannot strike at wretched kernes, whose arms
Are hir'd to bear their staves; either thou, Macbeth,
Or else my sword, with an unbatter'd edge,
I sheathe again undeeded. There thou should'st be;
By this great clatter, one of greatest note
Seems bruited: Let me find him, fortune!
And more I beg not.
[Exit. Alarum. Enter MALCOLM and old SIWARD.
Siw. This way, my lord ;--the castle's gently renThe tyrant's people on both sides do fight; [der'd: The noble thanes do bravely in the war; The day almost itself professes yours,
And little is to do.
Macb. Accursed be that tongue that tells me so, For it hath cow'd my better part of man! And be these juggling fiends no more believ'd, That palter with us in a double sense; That keep the word of promise to our ear, And break it to our hope.-I'll not fight with thee. Macd. Then yield thee, coward,
Macd. Despair thy charm; And let the angel, whom thou still hast serv'd, Tell thee, Macduff was from his mother's womb Untimely ripp'd,
And live to be the show and gaze o'the time.
We'll have thee, as our rarer monsters are,
Painted upon a pole; and underwrit,
Here may you see the tyrant.
I'll not yield, To kiss the ground before young Malcolm's feet, And to be baited with the rabble's curse. Though Birnamn wood be come to Dunsinane, And thou oppos'd, being of no woman born, Yet I will try the last: Before my body I throw my warlike shield: lay on, Macduff; And damn'd be him that first cries, Hold, enough. [Exeunt, fighting.
Siw. Then he is dead?
Rosse. Ay, and brought off the field: your cause of sorrow
Must not be measur'd by his worth, for then
It hath no end.
Had he his hurts before?
Rosse. Ay, on the front.
Why then, God's soldier be he!
Had I as many sons as I have hairs,
I would not wish them to a fairer death:
And so his knell is knoll'd.
He's worth more sorrow,
And that I'll spend for him.
He's worth no more;
They say, he parted well, and paid his score:
So, God be with him!-Here comes newer comfort.
Re-enter MACDUFF, with Macbeth's head on a pole.
Macd. Hail, king! for so thou art: Behold,
The usurper's cursed head: the time is free:
I see thee compass'd with thy kingdom's pearl,
That speak my salutation in their minds;
Whose voices I desire aloud with mine,-
Hail, king of Scotland!
King of Scotland, hail!
Mal. We shall not spend a large expense of time,
Before we reckon with your several loves, [men,
And make us even with you. My thanes and kins-
Henceforth be earls, the first that ever Scotland
In such an honour nam'd. What's more to do,
Which would be planted newly with the time,-
As calling home our exil'd friends abroad,
That fled the snares of watchful tyranny;
Producing forth the cruel ministers
Of this dead butcher, and his fiend-like queen;
Who, as 'tis thought, by self and violent hands
Took off her life;-This, and what needful else
That calls upon us, by the grace of Grace,
We will perform in measure, time, and place:
So thanks to all at once, and to each one,
Whom we invite to see us crown'd at Scone.
ACT I. SCENE I-Northampton. A Room of State in the Palace.
Enter King JOHN, Queen ELINOR, PEMBROKE,
ESSEX, SALISBURY, and others, with CHATILLON.
King John. Now, say, Chatillon, what would
France with us?
Chat. Thus, after greeting, speaks the king of
In my behaviour, to the majesty,
The borrow'd majesty of England here.
Eli. A strange beginning;-borrow'd majesty! K. John. Silence, good mother; hear the embassy.
Chat. Philip of France, in right and true behalf Of thy deceased brother Geffrey's son, Arthur Plantagenet, lays most lawful claim To this fair island, and the territories; To Ireland, Poictiers, Anjou, Touraine, Maine: Desiring thee to lay aside the sword, Which sways usurpingly these several titles; And put the same into young Arthur's hand, Thy nephew, and right royal sovereign.
K. John. What follows, if we disallow of this? Chat. The proud control of fierce and bloody war, To enforce these rights, so forcibly withheld.
K. John. Here have we war for war, and blood for blood, Controlment for controlment: so answer France. Chat. Then take my king's defiance from my The furthest limit of my embassy. [mouth,
PHILIP, King of France.
LEWIS, the Dauphin.
ARCHDUKE OF AUSTRIA.
CARDINAL PANDULPH, the Pope's Legate.
MELUN, a French Lord.
CHATILLON, Ambassador from France to King John. ELINOR, the Widow of King Henry II., and Mother of King John.
CONSTANCE, Mother to Arthur.
BLANCH, Daughter to Alphonso, King of Castile, and
Niece to King John.
LADY FAULCONBRIDGE, Mother to the Bastard and
Lords, Ladies, Citizens of Angiers, Sheriff, Heralds, Officers, Soldiers, Messengers, and other Attendants. and sometimes in France.
K. John. Bear mine to him, and so depart in peace:
Be thou as lightning in the eyes of France;
For ere thou canst report I will be there,
The thunder of my cannon shall be heard:
So, hence! Be thou the trumpet of our wrath,
And sullen presage of your own decay.-
An honourable conduct let him have:-
Pembroke, look to't: Farewell, Chatillon.
[Exeunt Chatillon and Pembroke.
Eli.What now, my son? have I not ever said,
How that ambitious Constance would not cease,
Till she had kindled France, and all the world,
Upon the right and party of her son?
This might have been prevented, and made whole,
With very easy arguments of love;
Which now the manage of two kingdoms must
With fearful bloody issue arbitrate.
[for us. K. John. Our strong possession, and our right, Eli: Your strong possession, much more than your right;
Or else it must go wrong with you, and me:
So much my conscience whispers in your ear;
Which none but heaven, and you, and I, shall hear.
Enter the Sheriff of Northamptonshire, who whispers
Essex. My liege, here is the strangest controversy, Come from the country to be judg'd by you, That e'er I heard: shall I produce the men? K. John. Let them approach. [Exit Sherif Our abbies, and our priories, shall pay
Re-enter Sheriff, with ROBERT FAULCONBRIDGE,
and PHILIP, his bastard Brother.
This expedition's charge.-What men are you?
Bast. Your faithful subject I, a gentleman,
Born in Northamptonshire; and eldest son,
As I suppose, to Robert Faulconbridge;
A soldier, by the honour-giving hand
Of Coeur-de-lion knighted in the field.
K. John. What art thou?
Rob. The son and heir to that same FaulconK. John. Is that the elder, and art thou the heir? You came not of one mother then, it seems.
Bast. Most certain of one mother, mighty king, That is well known; and, as I think, one father: But, for the certain knowledge of that truth, I put you o'er to heaven, and to my mother: Of that I doubt, as all men's children may.
Eli. Out on thee, rude man! thou dost shame thy mother,
And wound her honour with this diffidence.
Bast. I, madam? no, I have no reason for it; That is my brother's plea, and none of mine; The which if he can prove, 'a pops me out At least from fair five hundred pounds a-year: Heaven guard my mother's honour, and my land! K. John. A good blunt fellow:- Why, being younger born,
Doth he lay claim to thine inheritance?
Bast. I know not why, except to get the land. But once he slander'd me with bastardy: But whe'r I be as true begot, or no, That still I lay upon my mother's head; But, that I am as well begot, my liege, (Fair fall the bones that took the pains for me!) Compare our faces, and be judge yourself. If old sir Robert did beget us both,
And were our father, and this son like him ;-
O old sir Robert, father, on my knee
I give heaven thanks, I was not like to thee.
K. John. Why, what a madcap hath heaven lent
Eli. He hath a trick of Cour-de-lion's face,
The accent of his tongue affecteth him:
Do you not read some tokens of my son
In the large composition of this man?
K. John. Mine eye hath well examined his parts, And finds them perfect Richard.Sirrah, speak, What doth move you to claim your brother's land?
Bast. Because he hath a half-face, like my father; With that half-face would he have all my land: A half-fac'd groat five hundred pounds a-year!
In sooth, good friend, your father might have kept
This calf, bred from his cow, from all the world;
In sooth, he might: then, if he were my brother's,
My brother might not claim him; nor your father,
Being none of his, refuse him: This concludes,-
My mother's son did get your father's heir;
Your father's heir must have your father's land.
Rob. Shall then my father's will be of no force,
To dispossess that child, which is not his?
Bast. Of no more force to dispossess me, sir,
Than was his will to get me, as I think. [bridge,
Eli. Whether hadst thou rather, be a Faulcon-
And like thy brother, to enjoy thy land;
Or the reputed son of Cour-de-lion,
Lord of thy presence, and no land beside?
Bast. Madam, an if my brother had my shape,
And I had his, sir Robert his, like him:
And if my legs were two such riding-rods,
My arms such eel-skins stuff'd; my face so thin,
That in mine ear I durst not stick a rose, [goes!
Lest men should say, Look, where three-farthings
And, to his shape, were heir to all this land,
'Would I might never stir from off this place,
I'd give it every foot to have this face;
I would not be sir Nob in any case.
Eli. I like thee well; Wilt thou forsake thy Bequeath thy land to him, and follow me? I am a soldier, and now bound to France. Bast. Brother, take you my land, I'll take my chance:
Rob. My gracious liege, when that my father liv'd, Your brother did employ my father much ;
Bast. Well, sir, by this you cannot get my land; Your tale must be, how he employ'd my mother. Rob. And once despatch'd him in an embassy To Germany, there, with the emperor, To treat of high affairs touching that time: The advantage of his absence took the king, And in the mean time sojourn'd at my father's; Where how he did prevail, I shame to speak: But truth is truth; large lengths of seas and shores Between my father and my mother lay, (As I have heard my father speak himself,) · When this same lusty gentleman was got. Upon his death-bed he by will bequeath'd His lands to me; and took it, on his death, That this, my mother's son, was none of his; And, if he were, he came into the world Fall fourteen weeks before the course of time. Then, good my liege, let me have what is mine, My father's land, as was my father's will.
K. John. Sirrah, your brother is legitimate; Your father's wife did after wedlock bear him: And, if she did play false, the fault was her's; Which fault lies on the hazards of all husbands, That marry wives. Tell me, how if my brother, Who, as you say, took pains to get this son, Had of your father claim'd this son for his?
Your face hath got five hundred pounds a-year; Yet sell your face for five pence, and 'tis dear.Madam, I'll follow you unto the death.
Eli. Nay, I would have you go before me thither. Bast. Our country manners give our betters way. K. John. What is thy name?
Bast. Philip, my liege; so is my name begun; Philip, good old sir Robert's wife's eldest son. K. John. From henceforth bear his name whose form thou bear'st:
Kneel thou down Philip, but arise more great; Arise sir Richard, and Plantagenet.
Bast. Brother, by the mother's side, give me your
My father gave me honour, yours gave land:-
Now blessed be the hour, by night or day,
When I was got, sir Robert was away.
Eli. The very spirit of Plantagenet!-
I am thy grandame, Richard; call me so.
Bast. Madam, by chance, but not by truth:
Something about, a little from the right,
In at the window, or else o'er the hatch: Who dares not stir by day, must walk by night; And have is have, however men do catch: Near or far off, well won is still well shot; And I am I, howe'er I was begot.
K. John. Go, Faulconbridge; now hast thou thy A landless knight makes thee a landed 'squire.Come, madam, and come, Richard; we must speed For France, for France; for it is more than need. Bas. Brother, adieu; Good fortune come to thee! For thou wast got i'the way of honesty.
[Exeunt all but the Bastard.
A foot of honour better than I was;
But many a many foot of land the worse.
Well, now can I make any Joan a lady:-
Good den, sir Richard,-God-a-mercy, fellow ;-
And if his name be George, I'll call him Peter:
For new-made honour doth forget men's names;
'Tis too respective, and too sociable,
For your conversion. Now your traveller,-
He and his tooth-pick at my worship's mess;
And when my knightly stomach is suffic'd,
Why then I suck my teeth, and catechise
My picked man of countries:- -My dear sir,
(Thus, leaning on mine elbow, I begin,)
I shall beseech you-That is question now;
And then comes answer like an ABC-book:-
O, sir, says answer, at your best command;
At your employment; at your service, sir :-
No, sir, says question, I, sweet sir, at yours:
And so, ere answer knows what question would,
(Saving in dialogue of compliment;
And talking of the Alps, and Apennines,
The Pyrenean, and the river Po,)
It draws toward supper in conclusion so.
But this is worshipful society,
And fits the mounting spirit, like myself:
For he is but a bastard to the time,
That doth not smack of observation;
(And so am I, whether I smack, or no ;)
And not alone in habit and device,
Exterior form, outward accoutrement;
But from the inward motion to deliver
Sweet, sweet, sweet poison for the age's tooth:
Which, though I will not practise to deceive,
Yet, to avoid deceit, I mean to learn;
For it shall strew the footsteps of my rising.-
But who comes in such haste, in riding robes?
What woman-post is this? hath she no husband,
That will take pains to blow a horn before her?
Enter Lady FAULCONBRIDGE, and JAMES GURNEY.
O me! it is my mother:-How now, good lady?
What brings you here to court so hastily? [is he?
Lady F. Where is that slave, thy brother? where
That holds in chase mine honour up and down?
Bast. My brother Robert? old sir Robert's son?
Colbrand the giant, that same mighty man?
Is it sir Robert's son, that you seek so?
Lady F. Sir Robert's son! Ay, thou unreverend
Sir Robert's son: Why scorn'st thou at sir Robert?
He is sir Robert's son; and so art thou? [while?
Bast. James Gurney, wilt thou give us leave a
Gur. Good leave, good Philip.
There's toys abroad; anon I'll tell thee more.
Madam, I was not old sir Robert's son;
Sir Robert might have eat his part in me
Upon Good-friday, and ne'er broke his fast:
Sir Robert could do well; Marry, (to confess!)
Could he get me? Sir Robert could not do it;
We know his handy-work:-Therefore, good mo-
To whom am I beholden for these limbs?
Sir Robert never holp to make this leg.
Lady F. Hast thou conspired with thy brother too,
That for thine own gain should'st defend mine ho-
What means this scorn, thou most untoward knave?
Bast. Knight, knight, good mother,-Basilisco-
What! I am dubb'd; I have it on my shoulder.
But, mother, I am not sir Robert's son;
I have disclaim'd sir Robert, and my land;
Legitimation, name, and all is gone:
Then, good my mother, let me know my father;
Some proper man, I hope: Who was it, mother?
Lady F. Hast thou denied thyself a Faulcon-
May easily win a woman's. Ay, my mother,
With all my heart I thank thee for my father!
Who lives and dares but say, thou did❜st not well
When I was got, I'll send his soul to hell.
Come, lady, I will shew thee to my kin;
And they shall say, when Richard me begot,
If thou hadst said him nay, it had been sin:
Who says it was, he lies; I
Bast. As faithfully as I deny the devil.
Lady F. King Richard Coeur-de-lion was thy fa-
By long and vehement suit I was seduc'd
To make room for him in my husband's bed:
Heaven lay not my transgression to my charge!-
Thou art the issue of my dear offence,
Which was so strongly urg'd, past my defence.
Bast. Now, by this light, were I to get again,
Madam, I would not wish a better father.
Some sins do bear their privilege on earth,
And so doth yours; your fault was not your folly:
Needs must you lay your heart at his dispose,-
Subjected tribute to commanding love,-
Against whose fury and unmatched force
The awless lion could not wage the fight,
Nor keep his princely heart from Richard's hand.
He, that perforce robs lions of their hearts,
[Exeunt. ACT II. SCENE I.-France. Before the Walls of Angiers. Enter, on one side, the ARCHDUKE OF AUSTRIA, and Forces; on the other, PHILIP, King of France, and Forces; LEWIS, CONSTANCE, ARTHUR, and Attendants.
Lew. Before Angiers well met, brave Austria.—
Arthur, that great fore-runner of thy blood,
Richard, that robb'd the lion of his heart,
And fought the holy wars in Palestine,
By this brave duke came early to his grave:
And, for amends to his posterity,
At our importance hither is he come,
To spread his colours, boy, in thy behalf;
And to rebuke the usurpation
of thy unnatural uncle, English John:
Embrace him, love him, give him welcome hither.
Arth. God shall forgive you Coeur-de-lion's death,
The rather, that you give his offspring life,
Shadowing their right under your wings of war:
I give you welcome with a powerless hand,
But with a heart full of unstained love:
Welcome before the gates of Angiers, duke.
Lew. A noble boy! Who would not do thee right?
Aust. Upon thy cheek lay I this zealous kiss,
As seal to this indenture of my love;
That to my home I will no more return,
Till Angiers, and the right thou hast in France,
Together with that pale, that white-fac'd shore,
Whose foot spurns back the ocean's roaring tides,
And coops from other lands her islanders,
Even till that England, hedg'd in with the main,
That water-walled bulwark, still secure
And confident from foreign purposes,
Even till that utmost corner of the west
Salute thee for her king: till then, fair boy,
Will I not think of home, but follow arms.
Const. O, take his mother's thanks, a widow's
Till your strong hand shall help to give him strength,
To make a more requital to your love.
Aust. The peace of heaven is theirs, that lift their In such a just and charitable war.
K. Phi. Well then, to work; our cannon shall
Against the brows of this resisting town.-
Call for our chiefest men of discipline,
To cull the plots of best advantages:-
We'll lay before this town our royal bones,
Wade to the market-place in Frenchmen's blood,
But we will make it subject to this boy.
Const. Stay for an answer to your embassy,
Lest unadvis'd you stain your swords with blood:
My lord Chatillon may from England bring
That right in peace, which here we urge in war;
And then we shall repent each drop of blood,
That hot rash haste so indirectly shed.
K. Phi. A wonder, lady!-lo, upon thy wish,
Our messenger Chatillon is arriv'd.-
What England says, say briefly, gentle lord,
We coldly pause for thee; Chatillon, speak.
Chat. Then turn your forces from this paltry siege,
And stir them up against a mightier task.
England, impatient of your just demands,
Hath put himself in arms; the adverse winds,
Whose leisure I have staid, have given him time
To land his legions all as soon as I:
His marches are expedient to this town,
His forces strong, his soldiers confident,
With him is come along the mother-queen,
An Até, stirring him to blood and strife;
With her her niece, the lady Blanch of Spain;
With them a bastard of the king deceas'd:
And all the unsettled humours of the land,-
Rash, inconsiderate, fiery voluntaries,
With ladies' faces, and fierce dragons' spleens,-
Have sold their fortunes at their native homes,
Bearing their birthrights proudly on their backs,
To make a hazard of new fortunes here.
In brief, a braver choice of dauntless spirits,
Than now the English bottoms have waft o'er,
Did never float upon the swelling tide,
To do offence and scath in Christendom.
The interruption of their churlish drums
Cuts off more circumstance: they are at hand,
To parley, or to fight; therefore, prepare. [tion!
K. Phi. How much unlook'd for is this expedi-
Aust. By how much unexpected, by so much
We must awake endeavour for defence;
For courage mounteth with occasion:
Let them be welcome then, we are prepar'd.
Enter King JOHN, ELINOR, BLANCH, the Bastard,
PEMBROKE, and Forces.
Our just and lineal entrance to our own!
If not; bleed France, and peace ascend to heaven!
Whiles we, God's wrathful agent, do correct
Their proud contempt that beat his peace to heaven.
K. Phi. Peace be to England; if that war return
From France to England, there to live in peace!
England we love; and, for that England's sake,
With burden of our armour here we sweat:
This toil of ours should be a work of thine;
But thou from loving England art so far,
That thou hast under-wrought his lawful king,
Cut off the sequence of posterity,
Outfaced infant state, and done a rape
Blanch. O, well did he become that lion's robe,
That did disrobe the lion of that robe!
Bast. It lies as sightly on the back of him,
As great Alcides' shoes upon an ass:-
But, ass, I'll take that burden from your back;
Or lay on that shall make your shoulders crack.
Aust. What cracker is this same, that deafs our ears
With this abundance of superfluous breath?
K. Phi. Lewis, determine what we shall do
Lew. Women and fools, break off your confer-
King John, this is the very sum of all,-
England, and Ireland, Anjou, Touraine, Maine,
In right of Arthur do I claim of thee:
Wilt thou resign them, and lay down thy arms?
K.John. My life as soon:-I do defy thee, France.
Arthur of Bretagne, yield thee to my hand;
K. John. Peace be to France; if France in peace And, out of my dear love, I'll give thee more
Than e'er the coward hand of France can win:
Submit thee, boy.
Come to thy grandam, child.
Const. Do, child, go to it' grandam, child;
Give grandam kingdom, and it' grandam will
Give it a plum, a cherry, and a fig:
There's a good grandam.
K. John. From whom hast thou this great commission, France,
To draw my answer from thy articles? [thoughts
K. Phi. From that supernal judge, that stirs good
In any breast of strong authority,
To look into the blots and stains of right.
That judge hath made me guardian to this boy:
Under whose warrant, I impeach thy wrong;
And, by whose help, I mean to chastise it.
K. John. Alack, thou dost usurp authority.
K. Phi. Excuse; it is to beat usurping down.
Eli. Who is it, thou dost call usurper, France?
Const. Let me make answer;-thy usurping son.
El. Out, insolent! thy bastard shall be king;
That thou may'st be a queen, and check the world!
Const. My bed was ever to thy son as true,
As thine was to thy husband: and this boy
Liker in feature to his father Geffrey,
Than thou and John in manners; being as like,
As rain to water, or devil to his dam.
My boy a bastard! By my soul, I think,
His father never was so true begot;
It cannot be, an if thou wert his mother.
Upon the maiden virtue of the crown.
Look here upon thy brother Geffrey's face;-
These eyes, these brows, were moulded out of his : To do him justice, and revenge on you.
This little abstract doth contain that large,
Which died in Geffrey; and the hand of time
Shall draw this brief into as huge a volume.
That Geffrey was thy elder brother born,
And this his son; England was Geffrey's right,
And this is Geffrey's: In the name of God,
How comes it then, that thou art call'd a king,
When living blood doth in these temples beat,
Which owe the crown that thou o'ermasterest?
Eli. There's a good mother, boy, that blots thy
Const. There's a good grandam, boy, that would
Hear the crier.
What the devil art thou?
Bast. One, that will play the devil, sir, with you,
An 'a may catch your hide and you alone.
You are the hare of whom the proverb goes,
Whose valour plucks dead lions by the beard;
I'll smoke your skin-coat, an I catch you right;
Sirrah, look to't; i'faith, I will, i'faith.
Good my mother, peace!
I would, that I were low laid in my grave;
I am not worth this coil that's made for me.
Eli. His mother shames him so, poor boy, he weeps.
Const. Now shame upon you, whe'r she does, or no!
His grandam's wrongs, and not his mother's shames,
Draw those heaven-moving pearls from his poor eyes,
Which heaven shall take in nature of a fee;
Ay, with these crystal beads heav'n shall be brib'd
Eli. Thou monstrous slanderer of heaven and
Const. Thou monstrous injurer of heaven and
Call not me slanderer; thou, and thine, usurp
The dominations, royalties, and rights,
Of this oppressed boy: This is thy eldest son's son,
Infortunate in nothing but in thee;
Thy sins are visited in this poor child;
The canon of the law is laid on him,
Being but the second generation
Removed from thy sin-conceiving womb.
K. John. Bedlam, have done.
I have but this to say,-
That he's not only plagued for her sin,
But God hath made her sin and her the plague
On this removed issue, plagu'd for her,
And with her plague, her sin; his injury
Her injury, the beadle to her sin;
All punish'd in the person of this child,
And all for her; A plague upon her!
Eli. Thou unadvised scold, I can produce
A will, that bars the title of thy son.
Const. Ay, who doubts that? a will! a wicked will;
A woman's will; a canker'd grandam's will!
K.Phi. Peace, lady; pause, or be more temperate :
It ill beseems this presence, to cry aim
To these ill-tuned repetitions.—
Some trumpet summon hither to the walls
These men of Angiers; let us hear them speak,
Whose title they admit, Arthur's or John's.
Trumpets sound. Enter Citizens upon the walls.
1 Cit. Who is it, that hath warn'd us to the walls?
K. Phi. 'Tis France, for England.
England, for itself:
You men of Angiers, and my loving subjects,-