Page 163 - Shakespeare - Vol. 2

With course disturb’d, even thy confining shores,
Unless thou let his silver water keep
A peaceful progress to the ocean. [340]

KING PHILIP
England, thou hast not sav’d one drop of blood,
In this hot trial, more than we of France;

Rather, lost more. And by this hand I swear,
That sways the earth this climate overlooks,
Before we will lay down our just-borne arms, [345]

We’ll put thee down ’gainst whom these arms we bear,
Or add a royal number to the dead,
Gracing the scroll that tells of this war’s loss
With slaughter coupled to the name of kings.

BASTARD
Ha, majesty! how high thy glory towers [350]

When the rich blood of kings is set on fire!
O, now doth death line his dread chaps with steel;
The swords of soldiers are his teeth, his fangs;
And now he feasts, mousing the flesh of men,

In undetermin’d differences of kings. [355]
Why stand these royal fronts amazed thus?
Cry “havoc!” kings; back to the stained field,
You equal potents, fiery kindled spirits!

Then let confusion of one part confirm
The other’s peace; till then, blows, blood, and death! [360]

KING JOHN
Whose party do the townsmen yet admit?

KING PHILIP
Speak, citizens, for England; who’s your king?

HUBERT
The king of England, when we know the king.