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A04520 The first and second part of the troublesome raigne of Iohn King of England With the discouerie of King Richard Cordelions base sonne (vulgarly named, the bastard Fawconbridge:) Also, the death of King Iohn at Swinstead Abbey. As they were (sundry times) lately acted by the Queenes Maiesties Players. Written by W. Sh.; Troublesome raigne of John, King of England. Shakespeare, William, 1564-1616, attributed name.; Marlowe, Christopher, 1564-1593, attributed name. 1611 (1611) STC 14646; ESTC S106395 50,051 91

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this forward hand Making it weake to execute your charge Iohn What liues he Then sweete hope come home agen Chase hence despaire the purueyor for hell Hye Hubert tell these tidings to my Lords That throb in passions for yong Arthurs death Hence Hubert stay not till thou hast reueald The wished newes of Arthurs happy health I goe my selfe the ioyfullst man aliue To storie out this new supposed crime Exeunt The end of the first Part. To the Gentlemen Readers THe changelesse purpose of determinde Fate Giues period to our care or hearts content When heau'ns fixt time for this or that hath end Nor can earths pomp or pollicie preuent The doome ordained in their secret will Gentles we left King Iohn repleate with blisse That Arthur liude whom he supposed slaine And Hubert posting to returne those Lords Who deem'd him dead and parted discontent Arthur himselfe begins our latter Act Our Act of outrage desprate furie death Wherein fond rashnesse murdreth first a Prince And Monkish falsenesse poysneth last a King First Scene shews Arthurs death in infancie And last concludes Iohns fatall tragedie The second part of The troublesome Raigne of King Iohn Containing The entrance of Lewis the French Kings sonne With the poysoning of King Iohn by a Monke Enter yong Arthur on the walls NOw help good hap to further mine entent Crosse not my youth with any more extremes I venter life to gaine my libertie And if I die worlds troubles haue an end Feare gins disswade the strength of my resolue My holde will faile and then alas I fall And if I fall no question death is next Better desist and liue in prison still Prison said I nay rather death than so Comfort and courage come againe to me I le venter sure t is but a leape for life He leapes and brusing his bones after he was from his traunce speakes thus Hoe who is nigh some bodie take me vp Where is my mother let me speake with her Who hurts me thus speake hoe where are you gone Ay me poore Arthur I am heere alone Why calld I mother how did I forget My fall my fall hath killd my mothers sonne How will she weepe at tidings of my death My death indeed O God my bones are burst Sweet Iesu saue my soule forgiue my rash attempt Comfort my mother shield her from despaire When shee shall heare my tragycke ouerthrowe My heart controls the office of my tongue My vitall powers forsake my brused trunke I die I die heauen take my fleeting soule And Lady mother all good hap to thee He dies Enter Pembrooke Salisburie Essex Essex My Lords of Pembrooke and of Salisburie We must be carefull in our policie To vndermine the keepers of this place Else shall we neuer find the Princes graue Pemb. My Lord of Essex take no care for that I warrant you it was not closely done But who is this lo Lords the withered flowre Who in his life shin'd like the Mornings blush Cast out a doore deni'd his buriall right A prey for birds and beasts to gorge vpon Salisb. O ruthfull spectacle O damned deed My sinewes shake my very heart doth bleed Essex Leaue childish teares braue Lords of England If water-floods could fetch his life againe My eies should conduit forth a sea of teares If sobs would helpe or sorows serue the turne My heart should volley out deepe piercing plaints But bootlesse were 't to breath as many sighes As might ecclipse the brightest Sommers sunne Here rests the helpe a seruice to his ghost Let not the tyrant causer of this dole Liue to triumph in ruthfull massacres Giue hand and heart and Englishmen to armes T is Gods decree to wreake vs of these harmes Pemb. The best aduice But who comes posting here Enter Hubert Right noble Lords I speake vnto you all The King entreats your soonest speed To visit him who on your present want Did ban and curse his birth himselfe and me For executing of his strict command I saw his passion and at fittest time Assur'd him of his cousins being safe Whom pity would not let me doe to death He craues your company my Lords in haste To whom I will conduct young Arthur straight Who is in health vnder my custody Essex In health base villaine were 't not I leaue the crime To Gods reuenge to whom reuenge belongs Here should'st thou perish on my rapiers point Call'st thou this health such health betide thy friends And all that are of thy condition Hub. My Lords but heare me speake and kil me then If here I left not this yong Prince aliue Maugre the hastie Edict of the King Who gaue me charge to put out both his eyes That God that gaue me liuing to this houre Thunder reuenge vpon me in this place And as I tendred him with earnest loue So God loue me and then I shall be well Sals Hence traytor hence thy counsel is herein Exit Hu. Some in this place appointed by the King Haue throwne him from this lodging here aboue And sure the murther hath bin newly done For yet the body is not fully cold Essex How say you Lords shal we with speed dispatch Vnder our hands a packet into France To bid the Dolphin enter with his force To claime the kingdom for his proper right His title maketh lawfull strength thereto Besides the Pope on peril of his curse Hath bard vs of obedience vnto Iohn This hatefull murder Lewis his true descent The holy charge that we receiu'd from Rome Are weightie reasons if you like my reed To make vs all perseuer in this deed Pemb. My Lord of Essex well haue you aduis'd I will accord to further you in this Salisb. And Salisbury will not gainesay the same But aide that course as farre forth as he can Essex Then each of vs send straight to his allies To win them to this famous enterprise And let vs all yclad in Palmers weed The tenth of April at S. Edmunds Bury Meet to conferre and on the altar there Sweare secrecie and aid to this aduise Meane while let vs conuey this body hence And giue him buriall as befits his state Keeping his months mind and his obsequies With solemne intercession for his soule How say you Lordings are you all agreed Pemb. The tenth of April at S. Edmunds Burie God letting not I will not faile the time Essex Then let vs all conuey the body hence Exeunt Enter K. Iohn with two or three and the Prophet Ioh. Disturbed thoughts foredoomers of mine ill Distracted passions signes of growing harmes Strange prophecies of imminent mishaps Confound my wits and dull my senses so That euery obiect these mine eies behold Seeme instruments to bring me to my end Ascension day is come Iohn feare not then The prodigies this pratling Prophet threats T is come indeed ah were it fully past Then were I carelesse of a thousand feares The Diall tels me it is twelue at noone Were twelue at midnight past then might I
vaunt False seers prophecies of no import Could I as well with this right hand of mine Remoue the Sunne from our Meridian Vnto the moonested circle of th' antipodes As turne this steele from twelue to twelue agen Then Iohn the date of fatall prophecies Should with the Prophets life together end But multa cadunt inter calicem supremaque labra Peter vnsay thy foolish doting dreame And by the crowne of England here I sweare To make thee great and greatest of thy kin Peter King Iohn although the time I haue prescrib'd Be but twelue houres remaining yet behind Yet doe I know by inspiration Ere that fixt time be fully come about King Iohn shall not be king as heretofore Iohn Vaine buzzard what mischance can chance so soone To set a king beside his regall seat My heart is good my body passing strong My Land in peace my enemies subdu'd Onely my barons storme at Arthurs death But Arthur liues I there the challenge growes Were he dispatch'd vnto his longest home Then were the King secure of thousand foes Hubert what newes with thee where are my Lords Hub. Hard newes my Lord Arthur the louely prince Seeking to escape ouer the castle walles Fell headlong downe and in the cursed fall He brake his bones and there before the gate Your barons found him dead and breathlesse quite Ioh. Is Arthur dead then Hubert without more words hang the Prophet Away with Peter villain out of my sight I am deafe be gone let him not speake a word Now Iohn thy feares are vanisht into smoake Arthur is dead thou guiltlesse of his death Sweet youth but that I striued for a crowne I could haue well affoarded to thine age Long life and happinesse to thy content Enter the Bastard Ioh. Philip what newes with thee Bast The newes I heard was Peters prayers Who wisht like fortune to befall vs all And with that word the rope his latest friend Kept him from falling headlong to the ground Ioh. There let him hang and be the Rauens food While Iohn triumphs in spite of prophecies But what 's the tydings from the Popelings now What say the Monkes and Priests to our proceedings Or where 's the Barons that so suddainely Did leaue the king vpon a false surmise Bast The Prelates storme and thirst for sharp reuenge But please your Maiestie were that the worst It little skild a greater danger growes Which must be weeded out by carefull speed Or all is lost for all is leueld at Ioh. More frights and feares what ere thy tidings be I am prepar'd then Philip quickly say Meane they to murder or imprison me To giue my Crowne away to Rome or France Or will they each of them become a King Worse than I thinke it is it cannot be Bast. Not worse my Lord but euery whit as bad The Nobles haue elected Lewis King In right of Lady Blanch your neece his wife His landing is expected euery houre The Nobles Commons Clergie all Estates Incited chiefly by the Cardinall Pandulph that lies here Legate for the Pope Thinke long to see their new elected King And for vndoubted proofe see here my Liege Letters to me from your Nobilitie To be a partie in this action Who vnder shew of fained holinesse Appoint their meeting at S. Edmunds Burie There to consult conspire and conclude The ouerthrowe and downefall of your State Ioh. Why so it must be one houre of content Match'd with a month of passionate effects Why shines the Sunne to fauour this consort Why doe the winds not breake their brazen gates And scatter all these periur'd complices With all their counsels and their damned drifts But see the welkin rolleth gently on There 's not a lowring cloud to frowne on them The heauen the earth the sunne the moone and all Conspire with those confederates my decay Then hell for me if any power be there Forsake that place and guide me step by step To poyson strangle murder in their steps These traytors oh that name is too good for them And death is easie is there nothing worse To wreake me on this proud peace-breaking crew What saist thou Philip why assists thou not Bast These curses good my Lord fit not the season Help must descend from heauen against this treason Ioh. Nay thou wilt proue a traytor with the rest Goe get thee to them shame come to you all Bast I would be loath to leaue your Highnesse thus Yet you command and I though grieu'd will goe Ioh. Ah Philip whither go'st thou come againe Bast My Lord these motions are as passions of a mad man Ioh. A mad man Philip I am mad indeed My heart is maz'd my sences all foredone And Iohn of England now is quite vndone Was euer King as I opprest with cares Dame Elianor my noble mother Queene My onely hope and comfort in distresse Is dead and England excommunicate And I am interdicted by the Pope All Churches curst their doores are sealed vp And for the pleasure of the Romish Priest The seruice of the Highest is neglected The multitude a beast of many heads Doe wish confusion to their soueraigne The Nobles blinded with ambitions fumes Assemble powers to beate mine Empire downe And more than this elect a forrein king O England wert thou euer miserable King Iohn of England sees thee miserable Iohn t is thy sinnes that makes it miserable Quicquid delirunt Reges plectuntur Achiui Philip as thou hast euer lou'd thy King So show it now post to S. Edmunds Burie Dissemble with the Nobles know their drifts Confound their diuellish plots and damn'd deuises Though Iohn be faultie yet let subiects beare He will amend and right the peoples wrongs A mother though shee were vnnaturall Is better than the kindest step-dame is Let neuer Englishman trust forraine rule Then Philip shew thy fealty to thy King And mongst the Nobles plead thou for the King Bast. I goe my Lord see how he is distraught This is the cursed Priest of Italy Hath heap'd these mischiefes on this haplesse land Now Philip hadst thou Tullies eloquence Then might'st thou hope to plead with good successe Exit Ioh. And art thou gone successe may follow thee Thus hast thou shew'd thy kindnesse to thy King Sirra in haste goe greet the Cardinall Pandulph I meane the Legat from the Pope Say that the King desires to speake with him Now Iohn bethinke thee how thou maist resolue And if thou wilt continue Englands King Then cast about to keepe thy Diadem For life and land and all is leueld at The Pope of Rome t is he that is the cause He curseth thee he sets thy subiects free From due obedience to their Soueraigne He animates the Nobles in their warres He giues away the Crowne to Philips sonne And pardons all that seeke to murther thee And thus blind zeale is still predominant Then Iohn there is no way to keepe thy crowne But finely to dissemble with the Pope That hand that gaue the wound must
helpes heape vp more worke for woes Const If any power will heare a widowes plaint That from a wounded soule implores reuenge Send fell contagion to infect this clime This cursed countrey where the traitors breath Whose periurie as proud Briareus Beleaguers all the Skie with mis-beleefe He promist Arthur and he sware it too To fence thy right and check thy fo-mans pride But now black-spotted Periure as he is He takes a truce with Elnors damned brat And marries Lewis to her louely Neece Sharing thy fortune and thy birth-dayes gift Betweene these louers ill betide the match And as they shoulder thee from out thine owne And triumph in a widowes tearefu●l cares So heau'ns crosse them with a thriftlesse course Is all the bloud yspilt on either part Closing the cranies of the thirstie earth Growne to a loue-game and a Bridall feast And must thy birth-right bid the wedding banes Poore helpelesse boy hopelesse and helplesse too To whom misfortune seemes no yoake at all Thy stay thy state thy imminent mishaps Woundeth thy mothers thoughts with feeling care Why lookst thou pale the colour flies thy face I trouble now the fountaine of thy youth And make it muddie with my doles discourse Goe in with me reply not louely boy We must obscure this mone with melodie Least worser wrack ensue our male-content Exeunt Enter the King of England the King of France Arthur Bastard Lewis Lymoges Constance Blanch Chattillion Pembrooke Salisburie and Elianor Iohn This is the day the long-desired day Wherein the Realmes of England and of France Stand highly blessed in a lasting peace Thrice happie is the Bridegroome and the Bride From whose sweet Bridall such a concord springs To make of mortall foes immortall friends Const Vngodly peace made by anothers warre Phil. Vnhappie peace that tyes thee from reuenge Rouze thee Plantaginet liue not to see The butcher of the great Plantaginet Kings Princes and ye Peeres of either realmes Pardon my rashnes and forgiue the zeale That carries me in furie to a deede Of high desert of honour and of armes A boone O Kings a boone doth Philip begge Prostrate vpon his knee which knee shall cleaue Vnto the superficies of the earth Till France and England grant this glorious boone Iohn Speake Philip England grants thee thy request Phil. And France confirmes what ere is in his power Bast. Then Duke sit fast I leuell at thy head Too base a ransome for my fathers life Princes I craue the combate with the Duke That braues it in dishonour of my sire Your words are past nor can you now reuerse The Princely promise that reuiues my soule Whereat me thinkes I see his sinewes shake This is the boone dread Lords which granted once Or life or death are pleasant to my soule Since I shall liue and die in Richards right Lym. Base bastard misbegotten of a King To interrupt these holy nuptiall rites With brawles and tumults to a Dukes disgrace Let it suffice I scorne to ioyne in fight With one so farre vnequall to my selfe Bast A fine excuse Kings if you will be Kings Then keepe your words and let vs combate it Iohn Philip we cannot force the Duke to fight Beeing a subiect vnto neither Realme But tell me Austria if an English Duke Should dare thee thus wouldst thou accept the challenge Lym. Else let the world account the Austrich Duke The greatest coward liuing on the earth Iohn Then cheere thee Philip Iohn wil keep his word Kneele downe in sight of Philip King of France And all these Princely Lords assembled here I gird thee with the sword of Normandie And of that Land I doe inuest thee Duke So shalt thou be in liuing and in land Nothing inferiour vnto Austria Lym. K. Iohn I tell thee flatly to thy face Thou wrong'st mine honour and that thou mai'st see How much I scorne thy new made Duke and thee I flatly say I will not be compeld And so farewell sir Duke of lowe degree I le finde a time to match you for this geare Exit Iohn Stay Philip let him goe the honours thine Bast I cannot liue vnlesse his life be mine Q. Elia. Thy forwardnes this day hath ioy'd my soule And made me thinke my Richard liues in thee K. Phil. Lordings let 's in and spend the wedding day In maskes and triumphs letting quarrels cease Enter a Cardinall from Rome Card. Stay king of France I charge thee ioyn not hands With him that stands accurst of God and men Know Iohn that I Pandulph Cardinall of Millaine and Legate from the Sea of Rome demand of thee in the name of our holy Father the Pope Innocent why thou do'st contrary to the lawes of our holy mother the Church and our holy Father the Pope disturb the quiet of the Church and disanull the election of Stephen Langhton whom his holinesse hath elected Archbishop of Canterburie this in his holinesse name I demaund of thee Ioh. And what hast thou or the Pope thy master to do to demand of me how I imploy mine own Know sir priest as I honor the Church and holy Church-men so I scorne to be subiect to the greatest Prelate in the world Tell thy master so from me and say Iohn of England said it that neuer an Italian Priest of them all shal either haue tythe tole or polling peny out of England but as I am King so will I raigne next vnder God supreame head both ouer spiritual and temporall and he that contradicts me in this I le make him hop headlesse K. Phil. What K. Iohn know you what you say thus to blaspheme against our holy father the Pope Ioh. Philip though thou and all the Princes of Christendome suffer themselues to be abus'd by a Prelates slauery my mind is not of such base temper If the Pope will bee king of England let him win it with the sword I know no other title he can alleadge to mine inheritance Card. Iohn this is thine answer Iohn What then Card. Then I Pandulph of Padua Legate from the Apostolike Sea doe in the name of Saint Peter and his successor our holy father Pope Innocent pronounce thee accursed discharging euery of thy subiects of all dutie and fealtie that they doe owe to thee and pardon and forgiuenesse of sinne to those or them whatsoeuer which shal carrie armes against thee or murder thee This I pronounce and charge all good men to abhorre thee as an excommunicate person Ioh. So sir the more the foxe is curs'd the better a fares if God blesse me and my Land let the Pope and his shauelings curse and spare not Card. Furthermore I charge thee Philip K. of Fraunce and all the kings and princes of Christendome to make warre vpon this miscreant and whereas thou hast made a league with him and confirmed it by oath I doe in the name of our foresaid father the Pope acquit thee of that oath as vnlawfull beeing made with an hereticke howe sai'st thou Philip do'st thou obey
Listen braue Lords a fearefull mourning tale To be deliuered by a man of death Behold these scarres the dole of bloudie Mars Are harbingers from natures common foe Citing this truncke to Tellus prison house Lifes charter Lordings lasteth not an houre And fearefull thoughts forerunners of my end Bids me giue physicke to a sickely soule O Peeres of England know you what you do There 's but a haire that sunders you from harme The hooke is baited and the traine is made And simply you runne doating to your deaths But lest I die and leaue my tale vntolde With silence slaughtering so braue a crew This I auerre if Lewes winne the day There 's not an Englishman that lifts his hand Against King Iohn to plant the heire of France But is already damnd to cruell death I heard it vow'd my selfe amongst the rest Swore on the Altar aide to this Edict Two causes Lords makes me display this drift The greatest for the freedome of my soule That longs to leaue this mansion free from guilt The other on a naturall instinct For that my Grandsire was an Englishman Misdoubt not Lords the truth of my discourse No frensie nor no brainsicke idle fit But well aduisde and wotting what I say Pronounce I here before the face of heauen That nothing is discouered but a truth T is time to flie submit your selues to Iohn The smiles of Fraunce shade in the frownes of death Lift vp your swords turne face against the French Expell the yoke that 's framed for your necks Backe warremen backe imbowell not the clime Your seate your nurse your birth dayes breathing place That bred you beares you brought you vp in armes Ah! be not so ingrate to digge your mothers graue Preserue your lambes and beate away the wolfe My soule hath said contritions penitence Laies hold on mans redemption for my sinne Farewell my Lords witnesse my faith when we are met in heauen And for my kindnesse giue me graue roome here My soule doth fleet worlds vanities farewell Sals Now ioy betide thy soule well-meaning man How now my Lords what cooling carde is this A greater griefe growes now than earst hath beene What counsell giue you shall we stay and die Or shall we home and kneele vnto the King Pemb. My heart misgaue this sad accursed newes What haue we done fie Lords what frensie moued Our hearts to yeeld vnto the pride of Fraunce If we perseuer we are sure to die If we desist small hope againe of life Salsb. Beare hence the body of this wretched man That made vs wretched with his dying tale And stand not wayling on our present harmes As women wont but seeke our harmes redresse As for my selfe I will in haste be gone And kneele for pardon to our soueraigne Iohn Pemb. I there 's the way le ts rather kneele to him Than to the French that would confound vs all Exeunt Enter King Iohn carried betweene two Lords Iohn Set downe set downe the loade not woorth your paine For done I am with deadly wounding griefe Sickely and succourlesse hopelesse of any good The world hath wearied me and I haue wearied it It loathes I liue I liue and loathe my selfe Who pities me to whom haue I beene kinde But to a few a few will pitie me Why die I not Death scornes so vilde a prey Why liue I not life hates so sad a prize I sue to both to be retaind of either But both are deafe I can be heard of neither Nor death nor life yet life and neare the neere Ymixt with death biding I wot not where Phil. How fares my Lord that he is carried thus Not all the aukeward fortunes yet befalne Made such impression of lament in me Nor euer did my eye attaint my heart With any obiect moouing more remorse Than now beholding of a mighty King Borne by his Lords in such distressed State Ioh. What newes with thee if bad report it straight If good be mute it doth but flatter me Phil. Such as it is and heauy though it be To glut the world with tragicke elegies Once will I breathe to aggrauate the rest Another moane to make the measure full The brauest bow-man had not yet sent forth Two arrowes from the quiuer at his side But that a rumor went throughout our Campe That Iohn was fled the King had left the field At last the rumor scal'd these eares of mine Who rather chose as sacrifice for Mars Than ignominious scandall by retire I cheer'd the troupes as did the prince of Troy His weary followers gainst the Mermidons Crying alowd S. George the day is ours But feare had captiuated courage quite And like the Lambe before the greedie Wolfe So heartlesse fled our war-men from the field Short tale to make my selfe amongst the rest Was faine to flie before the eager foe By this time night had shadowed all the earth With sable curtaines of the blackest hue And fenc'd vs from the furie of the French As Io from the iealous Iunoes eie When in the morning our troupes did gather head Passing the washes with our carriages The impartiall tide deadly and inexorable Came raging in with billowes threatning death And swallowed vp the most of all our men My selfe vpon a Galloway right free well pac'd Out stript the flouds that followed waue by waue I so escap'd to tell this tragicke tale Iohn Griefe vpon griefe yet none so great a griefe To end this life and thereby rid my griefe Was euer any so infortunate The right Idea of a cursed man As I poore I a triumph for despight My feuer growes what ague shakes me so How farre to Sminstead tell me do you know Present vnto the Abbot word of my repaire My sicknesse rages to tyrannize vpon me I cannot liue vnlesse this feuer leaue me Philip Good cheere my Lord the Abbey is at hand Behold my Lord the Churchmen come to meet you Enter the Abbot and certaine Monkes Abb. All health happines to our soueraigne lord the King Iohn Nor health nor happines hath Iohn at all Say Abbot am I welcome to thy house Abbot Such welcome as our Abbey can afford Your Maiestie shall be assured of Philip The King thou seest is weake and very faint What victuals hast thou to refresh his Grace Abb. Good stote my Lord of that you need not feare For Lincolneshire and these our Abbey grounds Were neuer fatter nor in better plight Iohn Philip thou neuer needst to doubt of cates Nor King nor Lord is seated halfe so well As are the Abbeis throughout all the land If any plot of ground do passe another The Friers fasten on it strait But let vs in to taste of their repast It goes against my heart to feed with them Or be beholding to such Abbey groomes Exeunt Manet the Monke Monke Is this the King that neuer lou'd a Frier Is this the man that doth contemne the Pope Is this the man that rob'd the holy Church And yet will flie
vnto a Friory Is this the King that aymes at Abbeis lands Is this the man whom all the world abhorres And yet will flie vnto a Friorie Accurst be Swinstead Abbey Abbot Friers Monkes Nunnes and Clarks and all that dwells therein If wicked Iohn escape aliue away Now if that thou wilt looke to merit heauen And be canonized for a holy Saint To please the world with a deseruing worke Be thou the man to set thy countrey free And murder him that seekes to murder thee Enter the Abbot Abbot Why are not you within to cheere the King He now begins to mend and will to meate Monke What if I say to strangle him in his sleepe Abbot What at thy Mumpsimus away And seeke some meanes for to pastime the King Monke I le set a dudgeon dagger at his heart And with a mallet knocke him on the head Abbot Alas what meanes this Monke to murder me Dare lay my life hee 'l kill me for my place Monke I le poyson him and it shall ne'r be knowne And then shall I be chiefest of my house Abbot If I were dead indeed he is the next But I le away for why the Monke is mad And in his madnesse he will murder me Mon. My L. I cry your Lordship mercy I saw you not Abbot Alas good Thomas do not murder me and thou shalt haue my place with thousand thanks Monke I murder you God shield from such a thought Abbot If thou wilt needs yet let me say my prayers Monke I will not hurt your Lordship good my Lord but if you please I will impart a thing that shall be beneficiall to vs all Abbot Wilt thou not hurt me holy Monke say on Monke You know my Lord the King is in our house Abbot True Monke You know likewise the King abhorres a Frier Abbot True Monke And he that loues not a Frier is our enemy Abbot Thou saist true Monke Then the King is our enemy Abbot True Mon. Why then should we not kil our enemy and the king being our enemy why then should we not kill the K. Abbot O blessed Monke I see God moues thy minde to free this land from tyrants slauery But who dare venter for to do this deede Mon. Who dare why I my Lord dare do the deed I le free my Countrey and the Church from foes And merit heauen by killing of a King Abbot Thomas kneele downe and if thou art resolu'd I will absolue thee here from all thy sinnes For why the deede is meritorious Forward and feare not man for euery month Our Friers shall sing a Masse for Thomas soule Mon. God and S. Francis prosper my attempt For now my Lord I goe about my worke Exeunt Enter Lewes and his armie Lewes Thus victorie in bloudie Lawrell clad Followes the fortune of yong Lodowike The Englishmen as danted at our sight Fall as the fowle before the Eagles eies Onely two crosses of contrary change Do nip my heart and vex me with vnrest Lord Meluns death the one part of my soule A brauer man did neuer liue in Fraunce The other griefe I that 's a gall indeed To thinke that Douer Castle should hold out Gainst all assaults and rest impregnable Yee warrelike race of Francus Hectors sonne Triumph in conquest of that tyrant Iohn The better halfe of England is our owne And towards the conquest of the other part We haue the face of all the English Lords What then remaines but ouerrunne the land Be resolute my warrelike followers And if good fortune serue as shee begins The poorest pesant of the realme of France Shal be a master ore an English Lord. Enter a Messenger Lewes Fellow what newes Mess Pleaseth your Grace the Earle of Salsbury Penbrooke Essex Clare and Arundell with all the Barons that did fight for thee are on a sodaine fled with all their powers to ioyne with Iohn to driue thee backe againe Enter another Messenger Messen Lewes my Lord why standst thou in a maze Gather thy troupes hope not of helpe from Fraunce For all thy forces being fiftie saile Containing twenty thousand souldiers With victuall and munition for the warre Putting them from Callis in vnluckie time Did crosse the seas and on the Goodwin sands The men munition and the ships are lost Enter another Messenger Lewes More newes say on Messen Iohn my Lord ●ith all his scattered troups Flying the fury of your conquering sword As Pharaoh earst within the bloody sea So he and his enuironed with the tide On Lincolne washes all were ouerwhelmed The Barons fled our forces cast away Lewes Was euer heard such vnexpected newes Messenger Yet Lodowike reuiue thy dying heart King Iohn and all his forces are consumde The lesse thou needst the aid of English Earles The lesse thou needst to grieue thy nauies wracke And follow times aduantage with successe Lewes Braue Frenchmen arm'd with magnanimitie March after Lewes who will leade you on To chase the Barons power that wants a head For Iohn is drown'd and I am Englands King Though our munition and our men be lost Philip of Fraunce will send vs fresh supplies Exeunt Enter two Friers laying a Cloth Frier Dispatch dispatch the King desires to eate Would a might eate his last for the loue he bears to church men Frier I am of thy mind too and so it should be and we might be our owne caruers I maruell why they dine here in the Orchard Frier I know not nor I care not The King comes Iohn Come on Lord Abbot shall we sit together Abbot Pleaseth your Grace sit downe Iohn Take your places sirs no pomp in penury all beggers and friends may come where Necessitie keepes the house curtesie is barr'd the table sit downe Philip. Bast My Lord I am loth to allude so much to the prouerb honors change maners a king is a king though Fortune do her worst we as dutifull in despite of her frown as if your highnes were now in the highest tipe of dignitie Iohn Come no more adoe and you tell mee much of dignity you 'l marre my appetite in a surfet of sorrow What cheere Lord Abbot me thinks ye frown like an host that knows his guest hath no money to pay the reckning Abbot No my Liege if I frowne at all it is for I feare this cheere too homely to entertaine so mighty a guest as your maiestie Bast I thinke rather my Lord Abbot you remember my last being here when I went in progresse for powches and the rancor of his heart breakes out in his countenance to shew he hath not forgot me Abb. Not so my Lord you and the meanest follower of his maiesty are heartily welcome to me Monke Wassell my Liege and as a poore Monke may say welcome to Swinstead Iohn Begin Monke and report hereafter thou wast taster to a King Monke As much health to your Highnesse as to mine owne heart Iohn I pledge thee kind Monke Monke The merriest draught that euer was drunke in