King John

King John
Now say, Chatillion, what would France with us?
Chatillion
Thus, after greeting, speaks the King of France
In my behavior to the majesty,

The borrowed majesty, of England here.
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Be thou the trumpet of our wrath
And sullen presage of your own decay.

King John
What is thy name?
Bastard
Philip, my liege, so is my name begun,
Philip, good old Sir Robert’s wife’s eldest son.
King John
From henceforth bear his name whose form thou bearest.
Kneel thou down Philip, but rise more great.

Philip kneels. King John dubs him a knight,
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King John
Peace be to France, if France in peace permit
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 beats his peace to heaven.
King Philip
Peace be to England, if that war return
From France to England,
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Dauphin
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?
King John
My life as soon! I do defy thee, France.—
Arthur of Brittany, yield thee to my hand,
And out of my dear love I’ll give thee more
Than e’er the coward hand of France can win.
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Citizen
Who is it that hath warned us to the walls?
King Philip
‘Tis France, for England.
King John
England, for itself.
You men of Angiers, and my loving subjects—
King Philip
You loving men of Angiers, Arthur’s subjects,
Our trumpet called you to this gentle parle—
King John
For our advantage.
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King John
France, hast thou yet more blood to cast away?
Say, shall the current of our right roam on,
Whose passage, vexed with thy impediment,
Shall leave his native channel and o’erswell
With course disturbed even thy confining shores,
Unless thou let his silver water keep
A peaceful progress to the ocean?
King Philip
England,
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Austria
Lady Constance, peace.
Constance
War, war, no peace! Peace is to me a war.
O Limoges, O Austria, thou dost shame
That bloody spoil. Thou slave, thou wretch, thou coward,
Thou little valiant, great in villainy,
Thou ever strong upon the stronger side,
Thou Fortune’s champion, that dost never fight
But when her humorous Ladyship is by
To teach thee safety.
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King John, to Bastard  
Cousin, away for England! Haste before,
And ere our coining see thou shake the bags
Of hoarding abbots; imprisoned angels
Set at liberty. The fat ribs of peace
Must by the hungry now be fed upon.
Use our commission in his utmost force.
Bastard
Bell, book,
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King John
Come hither, Hubert.
He takes Hubert aside.
O, my gentle Hubert,
We owe thee much. Within this wall of flesh
There is a soul counts thee her creditor,
And with advantage means to pay thy love.
And, my good friend, thy voluntary oath
Lives in this bosom dearly cherishèd.
Give me thy hand.
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King Philip
Patience, good lady. Comfort, gentle Constance.
Constance
No, I defy all counsel, all redress,
But that which ends all counsel, true redress.
Death, death, O amiable, lovely death,
Thou odoriferous stench, sound rottenness,
Arise forth from the couch of lasting night,
Thou hate and terror to prosperity,
And I will kiss thy detestable bones
And put my eyeballs in thy vaulty brows,
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