These flags of France, that are advanced here
Before the eye and profpect of your town,
Have hither march'd to your endamagement:
The cannons have their bowels full of wrath;
And ready mounted are they, to spit forth
Their iron indignation 'gainft your walls:
All preparation for a bloody fiege,

And mercilefs proceeding by these French,
Confront your city's eyes, your winking gates;
And, but for our approach, those fleeping stones,
That as a waist do girdle you about,

By the compulfion of their ordnance
By this time from their fixed beds of lime
Had been dishabited,' and wide havock made
For bloody power to rush upon your peace.
But, on the fight of us, your lawful king,
Who painfully, with much expedient march,
Have brought a countercheck before your gates,
To fave unfcratch'd your city's threaten'd cheeks,-
Behold, the French, amaz'd, vouchsafe a parle :
And now, inftead of bullets wrapp'd in fire,
To make a shaking fever in your walls,
They shoot but calm words, folded up in smoke,3

2

For your advantage, it would be a more fpecious reafon for interrupting Philip. TYRWHITT.

7 Confront your city's eyes,] The old copy reads-Comfort, &c. Mr. Rowe made this neceffary change. STEEVENS.

8

your winking gates;] i. e. gates haftily clofed from an apprchenfion of danger. So, in K. Henry IV. Part II:

9

"And winking leap'd into deftruction." MALONE.

dishabited,] i. e. diflodged, violently removed from their places:—a word, I believe, of our author's coinage. STEEVENS. a countercheck-] This, I believe, is one of the ancient terms used in the game of chefs. So, in Mucedorus, 1598:

2

"Poft hence thyfelf, thou counterchecking trull." STEEVENS. 3 They Shoot but calm words, folded up in smoke,] So, in our author's Rape of Lucrece:

"This helpless/moke of words, doth me no right." MALONE.

To make a faithlefs error in your ears:
Which truft accordingly, kind citizens,
And let us in, your king; whofe labour'd fpirits,
Forwearied in this action of fwift speed,
Crave harbourage within your city walls.

K. PHI. When I have faid, make answer to us both.
Lo, in this right hand, whofe protection
Is moft divinely vow'd upon the right
Of him it holds, ftands young Plantagenet;
Son to the elder brother of this man,

And king o'er him, and all that he enjoys:
For this down-trodden equity, we tread

In warlike march these greens before your town;
Being no further enemy to you,

Than the constraint of hospitable zeal,
In the relief of this oppreffed child,
Religioufly provokes. Be pleased then
Το pay that duty, which you truly owe,

To him that owes it; namely, this young prince:
And then our arms, like to a muzzled bear,
Save in afpéct, have all offence feal'd up;
Our cannons' malice vainly shall be spent
Against the invulnerable clouds of heaven;
And, with a bleffed and unvex'd retire,

With unhack'd fwords, and helmets all unbruis'd,
We will bear home that lufty blood again,
Which here we came to spout against your town,
And leave your children, wives, and you, in peace.
But if you fondly pass our proffer'd offer,

4 Forwearied-] i. e. worn out. Sax. So, Chaucer, in his Romaunt of the Rofe, fpeaking of the mantle of Avarice:

"And if it were forwerid, the

"Would havin," &c. STEEVENS.

5 To him that owes it ;] i. e. owns it. See our author and his contemporaries, paffim. So, in Othello:

66

that sweet fleep

"That thou ow'dft yesterday." STEEVENS.

'Tis not the roundure of your old-fac'd walls
Can hide you from our meflengers of war;
Though all these English, and their difcipline,
Were harbour'd in their rude circumference.
Then, tell us, fhall your city call us lord,
In that behalf which we have challeng'd it?
Or fhall we give the fignal to our rage,
And ftalk in blood to our poffeffion?

1 Cir. In brief, we are the king of England's fubjects;

For him, and in his right, we hold this town. K. JOHN. Acknowledge then the king, and let me in.

1 Cir. That can we not: but he that proves the

king,

To him will we prove loyal; till that time,
Have we ramm'd up our gates against the world.
K. JOHN. Doth not the crown of England prove
the king?

And, if not that, I bring you witneffes,
Twice fifteen thoufand hearts of England's breed,-
BAST. Baftards, and elfe.

K. John. To verify our title with their lives.

K. PHI. As many, and as well-born bloods as thofe,

BAST. Some bastards too.

4 Tis not the roundure, &c.] Roundure means the fame as the French rondeur, i. e. the circle.

So, in All's loft by Luft, a tragedy by Rowley, 1633:

66

will fhe meet our arms

"With an alternate roundure?"

Again, in Shakspeare's 21ft Sonnet:

66

-all things rare,

"That heaven's air in this huge rondure hems.”

1

STREVENS.

K. PHI. Stand in his face, to contradict his claim. I CIT. Till you compound whofe right is worthiest, We, for the worthiest, hold the right from both.

K. JOHN. Then God forgive the fin of all those fouls,

That to their everlafting refidence,

Before the dew of evening fall, fhall fleet,
In dreadful trial of our kingdom's king!

K. PH1. Amen, Amen!-Mount, chevaliers! to arms!

BAST. St. George, that swing'd the dragon, and e'er fince,

Sits on his horfeback at mine hoftefs' door,
Teach us fome fence!-Sirrah, were I at home,
At your den, firrah, [To AUSTRIA.] with your lioness,
I'd fet an ox-head to your lion's hide,'

And make a monfter of you.

AUST.

Peace; no more.

BAST. O, tremble; for you hear the lion roar. K. JOHN. Up higher to the plain; where we'll fet forth,

In best appointment, all our regiments.

BAST. Speed then, to take advantage of the

field.

K. PHI. It fhall be fo;- [To LEWIS.] and at the

other hill

Command the reft to ftand.-God, and our right! [Exeunt.

I'd fet an ox-head to your lion's hide,] So, in the old fpurious play of K. John:

"But let the frolick Frenchman take no fcorn,
"If Philip front him with an English horn."

STELVENS.

Alarums and Excurfions; then a Retreat. Enter a French Herald, with trumpets, to the gates.

F. HER. You men of Angiers, open wide your

gates,

6

And let young Arthur, duke of Bretagne, in;
Who, by the hand of France, this day hath made
Much work for tears in many an English mother,
Whose fons lye scatter'd on the bleeding ground:
Many a widow's husband groveling lies,
Coldly embracing the difcolour'd earth;
And victory, with little lofs, doth play
Upon the dancing banners of the French;
Who are at hand, triumphantly display'd,
To enter conquerors, and to proclaim
Arthur of Bretagne, England's king, and yours.

Enter an English Herald, with trumpets.

E. HER. Rejoice, you men of Angiers, ring your bells; "

King John, your king and England's, doth approach, Commander of this hot malicious day!

6 You men of Angiers, &c.] This fpeech is very poetical and fmooth, and except the conceit of the widow's husband embracing the earth, is juft and beautiful. JOHNSON.

7 Rejoice, you men of Angiers, &c.] The English herald falls. fomewhat below his antagonist. Silver armour gilt with blood is a poor image. Yet our author has it again in Macbeth:

Here lay Duncan,

His filver fkin lac'd with his golden blood." JOHNSON.