Enter, in arms, Louis the Dauphin, Salisbury, Melun,
Pembroke, Bigot, and French and English Soldiers. DAUPHIN, handing a paper to Melun
My Lord Melun, let this be copied out,
And keep it safe for our remembrance.
Return the precedent to these lords again,
That having our fair order written down,
Both they and we, perusing o’er these notes, 5
May know wherefore we took the Sacrament,
And keep our faiths firm and inviolable. SALISBURY
Upon our sides it never shall be broken.
And, noble dauphin, albeit we swear
A voluntary zeal and unurged faith 10
To your proceedings, yet believe me, prince,
I am not glad that such a sore of time
Should seek a plaster by contemned revolt
And heal the inveterate canker of one wound
By making many. O, it grieves my soul 15
That I must draw this metal from my side
To be a widow-maker! O, and there
Where honorable rescue and defense
Cries out upon the name of Salisbury!
But such is the infection of the time 20
That for the health and physic of our right,
We cannot deal but with the very hand
Of stern injustice and confusèd wrong.
And is ’t not pity, O my grievèd friends,
That we, the sons and children of this isle, 25
Was born to see so sad an hour as this,
Wherein we step after a stranger, march
Upon her gentle bosom, and fill up
Her enemies’ ranks? I must withdraw and weep
Upon the spot of this enforcèd cause, 30
To grace the gentry of a land remote,
And follow unacquainted colors here.
What, here? O nation, that thou couldst remove,
That Neptune’s arms, who clippeth thee about,
Would bear thee from the knowledge of thyself 35
And grapple thee unto a pagan shore,
Where these two Christian armies might combine
The blood of malice in a vein of league,
And not to spend it so unneighborly. He weeps. DAUPHIN
A noble temper dost thou show in this, 40
And great affections wrestling in thy bosom
Doth make an earthquake of nobility.
O, what a noble combat hast thou fought
Between compulsion and a brave respect!
Let me wipe off this honorable dew 45
That silverly doth progress on thy cheeks.
My heart hath melted at a lady’s tears,
Being an ordinary inundation,
But this effusion of such manly drops,
This shower, blown up by tempest of the soul, 50
Startles mine eyes and makes me more amazed
Than had I seen the vaulty top of heaven
Figured quite o’er with burning meteors.
Lift up thy brow, renownèd Salisbury,
And with a great heart heave away this storm. 55
Commend these waters to those baby eyes
That never saw the giant world enraged,
Nor met with fortune other than at feasts
Full warm of blood, of mirth, of gossiping.
Come, come; for thou shalt thrust thy hand as deep 60
Into the purse of rich prosperity
As Louis himself.—So, nobles, shall you all,
That knit your sinews to the strength of mine.
And even there, methinks, an angel spake. Enter Pandulph. Look where the holy legate comes apace 65
To give us warrant from the hand of God,
And on our actions set the name of right
With holy breath. | In St. Edmundsbury, England, Louis the Dauphin and his posse talk turkey. Louis has a contract that has been signed by the French and English allies, pledging their loyalty to each other, and their promise to fight against King John. Even though he has sworn loyalty to Louis and his cause, Salisbury isn't happy about it. He cries and gives a long speech about how bad he feels for being a traitor to King John. Louis tells him that it's okay; he totally respects Salisbury's feelings. Then there's a tender moment in which the Dauphin (1) wipes a "manly" tear from Salisbury's eye, (2) tells Salisbury how brave he is, and then (3) gently reminds Salisbury that crying is for babies. After the male bonding is over, Louis also promises that they will be able to get lots of plunder out of all of this. When Pandulph walks in, Louis thinks this is a good sign: now he and his allies can get the Pope's blessing for their military expedition. |
PANDULPH
Hail, noble prince of France.
The next is this: King John hath reconciled 70
Himself to Rome; his spirit is come in
That so stood out against the holy Church,
The great metropolis and See of Rome.
Therefore thy threat’ning colors now wind up,
And tame the savage spirit of wild war 75
That, like a lion fostered up at hand,
It may lie gently at the foot of peace
And be no further harmful than in show. DAUPHIN
Your Grace shall pardon me; I will not back.
I am too high-born to be propertied, 80
To be a secondary at control,
Or useful servingman and instrument
To any sovereign state throughout the world.
Your breath first kindled the dead coal of wars
Between this chastised kingdom and myself 85
And brought in matter that should feed this fire;
And now ’tis far too huge to be blown out
With that same weak wind which enkindled it.
You taught me how to know the face of right,
Acquainted me with interest to this land, 90
Yea, thrust this enterprise into my heart.
And come you now to tell me John hath made
His peace with Rome? What is that peace to me?
I, by the honor of my marriage bed,
After young Arthur claim this land for mine. 95
And now it is half conquered, must I back
Because that John hath made his peace with Rome?
Am I Rome’s slave? What penny hath Rome borne?
What men provided? What munition sent
To underprop this action? Is ’t not I 100
That undergo this charge? Who else but I,
And such as to my claim are liable,
Sweat in this business and maintain this war?
Have I not heard these islanders shout out
“Vive le Roi” as I have banked their towns? 105
Have I not here the best cards for the game
To win this easy match played for a crown?
And shall I now give o’er the yielded set?
No, no, on my soul, it never shall be said. PANDULPH
You look but on the outside of this work. 110 DAUPHIN
Outside or inside, I will not return
Till my attempt so much be glorified
As to my ample hope was promisèd
Before I drew this gallant head of war
And culled these fiery spirits from the world 115
To outlook conquest and to win renown
Even in the jaws of danger and of death. A trumpet sounds. What lusty trumpet thus doth summon us? | Pandulph tells Louis it's time to call off his war party. King John is buddies with the Pope again. Louis says "no way." These events have taken on their own momentum; Pandolf doesn't have the power to stop them now. Besides, Louis paid for this military expedition, not the Pope. So the Church should just butt out. |
Enter Bastard. BASTARD
According to the fair play of the world,
Let me have audience. I am sent to speak, 120
My holy lord of Milan, from the King.
I come to learn how you have dealt for him,
And, as you answer, I do know the scope
And warrant limited unto my tongue. PANDULPH
The Dauphin is too willful-opposite 125
And will not temporize with my entreaties.
He flatly says he’ll not lay down his arms. BASTARD
By all the blood that ever fury breathed,
The youth says well! Now hear our English king,
For thus his royalty doth speak in me: 130
He is prepared—and reason too he should.
This apish and unmannerly approach,
This harnessed masque and unadvisèd revel,
This unheard sauciness and boyish troops,
The King doth smile at, and is well prepared 135
To whip this dwarfish war, these pigmy arms,
From out the circle of his territories.
That hand which had the strength, even at your door,
To cudgel you and make you take the hatch,
To dive like buckets in concealèd wells, 140
To crouch in litter of your stable planks,
To lie like pawns locked up in chests and trunks,
To hug with swine, to seek sweet safety out
In vaults and prisons, and to thrill and shake
Even at the crying of your nation’s crow, 145
Thinking this voice an armèd Englishman—
Shall that victorious hand be feebled here
That in your chambers gave you chastisement?
No! Know the gallant monarch is in arms,
And like an eagle o’er his aerie towers 150
To souse annoyance that comes near his nest.—
And you degenerate, you ingrate revolts,
You bloody Neroes, ripping up the womb
Of your dear mother England, blush for shame!
For your own ladies and pale-visaged maids 155
Like Amazons come tripping after drums,
Their thimbles into armèd gauntlets change,
Their needles to lances, and their gentle hearts
To fierce and bloody inclination. DAUPHIN
There end thy brave and turn thy face in peace. 160
We grant thou canst outscold us. Fare thee well.
We hold our time too precious to be spent
With such a brabbler. PANDULPH
Give me leave to speak. BASTARD
No, I will speak. 165 DAUPHIN
We will attend to neither.
Strike up the drums, and let the tongue of war
Plead for our interest and our being here. BASTARD
Indeed, your drums being beaten will cry out,
And so shall you, being beaten. Do but start 170
An echo with the clamor of thy drum,
And even at hand a drum is ready braced
That shall reverberate all as loud as thine.
Sound but another, and another shall,
As loud as thine, rattle the welkin’s ear 175
And mock the deep-mouthed thunder. For at hand,
Not trusting to this halting legate here,
Whom he hath used rather for sport than need,
Is warlike John, and in his forehead sits
A bare-ribbed Death, whose office is this day 180
To feast upon whole thousands of the French. DAUPHIN
Strike up our drums to find this danger out. BASTARD
And thou shalt find it, dauphin, do not doubt. They exit. | The Bastard arrives and asks Pandulph how things are going with his whole stopping-the-invasion-in-its-tracks thing. Pandulph says he's had no luck. The Bastard takes this as his cue: he makes a long speech threatening various horrible things in case the French invaders and English rebels don't turn back. Louis doesn't think much of this speech. Pandulph and the Bastard each try to make a last statement, but Louis won't listen. He tells his drummers to start beating a military march. The Bastard says the English army is going to make Louis cry louder than his drums. Then everybody heads off to join up with their own troops. |