_Aust._ Upon thy cheek lay I this zealous kiss, As seal to this indenture of my love, 20 That to my home I will no more return, Till Angiers and the right thou hast in France, Together with that pale, that white-faced shore, Whose foot spurns back the ocean's roaring tides And coops from other lands her islanders, 25 Even till that England, hedged in with the main, That water-walled bulwark, still secure And confident from foreign purposes, Even till that utmost corner of the west[79] Salute thee for her king: till then, fair boy, 30 Will I not think of home, but follow arms. _Const._ O, take his mother's thanks, a widow's thanks, Till your strong hand shall help to give him strength To make a more requital to your love! _Aust._ The peace of heaven is theirs that lift their swords[80] 35 In such a just and charitable war. _K. Phi._ Well then, to work: our cannon shall be bent[81] Against the brows of this resisting town. Call for our chiefest men of discipline, To cull the plots of best advantages: 40 We'll lay before this town our royal bones, Wade to the market-place in Frenchmen's blood, But we will make it subject to this boy. _Const._ Stay for an answer to your embassy, Lest unadvised you stain your swords with blood: 45 My Lord Chatillon may from England bring That right in peace which here we urge in war, And then we shall repent each drop of blood That hot rash haste so indirectly shed.[82] _Enter_ CHATILLON. _K. Phi._ A wonder, lady! lo, upon thy wish, 50 Our messenger Chatillon is arrived! What England says, say briefly, gentle lord; We coldly pause for thee; Chatillon, speak.