Page 167 - Shakespeare - Vol. 2

The mouth of passage shall we fling wide ope,
And give you entrance: but without this match [450]
The sea enraged is not half so deaf,
Lions more confident, mountains and rocks

More free from motion, no, not death himself
In mortal fury half so peremptory,
As we to keep this city.

BASTARD
Here’s a stay [455]

That shakes the rotten carcass of old death
Out of his rags! Here’s large mouth indeed,
That spits forth death and mountains, rocks and seas,
Talks as familiarly of roaring lions
As maids of thirteen do of puppy-dogs! [460]

What cannoneer begot this lusty blood?
He speaks plain cannon, fire, and smoke, and bounce;
He gives the bastinado with his tongue;

Our ears are cudgell’d; not a word of his
But buffets better than a fist of France. [465]
Zounds! I was never so bethump’d with words
Since I first call’d my brother’s father dad.

ELEANOR
Son, list to this conjunction, make this match;

Give with our niece a dowry large enough:
For by this knot thou shalt so surely tie [470]
Thy now unsur’d assurance to the crown,
That yon green boy shall have no sun to ripe

The bloom that promiseth a mighty fruit.
I see a yielding in the looks of France;
Mark, how they whisper: urge them while their souls [475]
Are capable of this ambition,

Lest zeal, now melted by the windy breath
Of soft petitions, pity and remorse,
Cool and congeal again to what it was.

HUBERT