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K. John. The King is moved, and answers not That is, to be the champion of our church. to this.
What since thou swor'st, is sworn against thyself, Const. O be removed from him, and answer well. And may not be performed by thyself : Aust. Do so, King Philip; hang no more in For that which thou hast sworn to do amiss, doubt.
Is not amiss when it is truly done; Bast. Hang nothing but a calf's-skin, most And being not done where doing tends to ill, sweet lout.
The truth is then most done not doing it. K. Phi. I am perplexed, and know not what to The better act of purposes mistook say.
Is to mistake again : though indirect, Pand. What canst thou say but will perplex Yet indirection thereby grows direct, thee more,
And falsehood falsehood cures; as fire cools fire If thou stand excommunicate and cursed ? Within the scorchéd veins of one new burned. K. Phi. Good reverend father, make my person It is religion that doth make vows kept; yours,
But thou hast sworn against religion; And tell me how you would bestow yourself. By what thou swear'st against the thing thou This royal hand and mine are newly knit;
swear'st; And the conjunction of our inward souls
And mak'st an oath the surety for thy truth Married in league, coupled and linked together Against an oath. The truth thou art unsure With all religious strength of sacred vows: To swear, swears only not to be forsworn : The latest breath that gave the sound of words, Else what a mockery should it be to swear? Was deep-sworn faith, peace, amity, truc love, But thou dost swear only to be forsworn; Between our kingdoms and our royal selves. And most forsworn to keep what thou dost swear And even before this truce, but new before Therefore thy latter vows, against thy first, (No longer than we well could wash our hands, Is in thyself rebellion to thyself: To clap this royal bargain up of peace),
And better conquest never canst thou make Heaven knows they were besmeared and over Than arm thy constant and thy nobler parts stained
Against those giddy loose suggestions: With slaughter's pencil; where revenge did paint Upon which better part our prayers come in, The fearful difference of incenséd kings.
If thou vouchsafe them : but if not, then know And shall these hands, so lately purged of blood, The peril of our curses light on thee So newly joined in love, so strong in both, So heavy as thou shalt not shake them off, Unyoke this seizure and this kind regreet? But, in despair, die under their black weiglat. Play fast and loose with faith? so jest with heaven, Aust. Rebellion, flat rebellion ! Make such unconstant children of ourselves,
Bast. Will 't not be? As now again to snatch our palm from palm; | Will not a calf's-skin stop that mouth of thine ? Unswear faith sworn; and on the marriage bed Lew. Father, to arms! Of smiling peace to march a bloody host,
Blanch. Upon thy wedding day; And make a riot on the gentle brow
Against the blood that thou hast married ? Of true sincerity ?-O holy sir,
What, shallour feast be kept with slaughtered men? My reverend father, let it not be so:
Shall braying trumpets and loud churlish drums Out of your grace, devise, ordain, impose (Clamours of hell) be measures to our pomp? Some gentle order; and then we shall be blessed O husband, hear me !-ah, alack, how new To do your pleasure, and continue friends. Is husband in my mouth!--even for that name,
Pand. All form is formless, order orderless, Which till this time my tongue did ne'er proSave what is opposite to England's love.
Const. O, upon my knee,
Thou virtuous Dauphin, alter not the doom A fasting tiger safer by the tooth,
Forethought by heaven. Than keep in peace that hand which thou dost hold. Blanch. Now shall I see thy love. What K. Phi. I may disjoin my hand, but not my faith.
motive may Pand. So mak'st thou faith an enemy to faith; | Be stronger with thee than the name of wife? And, like a civil war, sett'st oath to oath, | Const. That which upholdeth him that thee Thy tongue against thy tongue. O, let thy vow,
upholds; First made to heaven, first be to heaven performed! | Ilis honour. O thine honour, Lewis, thine honour!
Lew. I muse your majesty doth seem so cold, i Bast. My lord, I rescued her:
Pand. I will denounce a curse upon his head. But on, my liege; for very little pains
fall from thee.
Scene III.- The same.
Enler Kixo Bast. Old time the clock-setter, that bald sex- | Alarums; Excursions ; Retreat. ton, time,
Joux, ELINOR, ARTHUR, the Bastard, HuIs it as he will ? well then, France shall rue.
BERT, and Lords. Blanch. The sun 's o'ercast with blood : fair K. John. So shall it be : your grace shall stay day, adieu!
[70 ELINOR. Which is the side that I must go withal ? So strongly guarded.-Cousin, look not sad : I am with both: each army hath a hand;
[To ARTHUR. And in their rage, I having hold of both, Thy grandam loves thee; and thy uncle will They whirl asunder, and dismember me.
As dear be to thee as thy father was. Husband, I cannot pray that thou mayst win; Arth.O, this will make my mother die with grief! Uncle, I needs must pray that thou mayst lose; | K. John. Cousin [To the Bastard), away for Father, I may not wish the fortune thine ;
England; haste before : Grandam, I will not wish thy wishes thrive. And, ere our coming, see thou shake the bags Whoever wins, on that side shall I lose : Of hoarding abbots; angels imprisoned Assuréd loss before the match be played !
Set thou at liberty. The fat ribs of peace Lew. Lady, with me; with me thy fortune lies. Must by the hungry now be fed upon : Blanch. There where my fortune lives, there Use our commission in his utmost force. my life dies.
Bast. Bell, book, and candle shall not drive K. John. Cousin, go draw our puissance to- |
me back, gether.
[Exit Bastard, ! When gold and silver becks me to come on. France, I am burned up with inflaming wrath; I leave your highness.-Grandam, I will pray A rage whose heat hath this condition,
(If ever I remember to be holy) That nothing can allay, nothing but blood, For your fair safety: so I kiss your hand. The blood, and dearest valued blood, of France. Eli. Farewell, my gentle cousin. K. Phi. Thy rage shall burn thee up, and thou K. John. Coz, farewell. [Exit Bastard. shalt turn
Eli. Come hither, little kinsman; hark, a word. To ashes, ere our blood shall quench that fire.
[T'akes Arthur aside. Look to thyself, thou art in jeopardy.
K. John. Come hither, Hubert. O my gentle K. John. No more than he that threats.—To
Hubert, arms let's hie !
[Exeunt. We owe thee much; within this wall of flesh
There is a soul counts thee her creditor,
And with advantage means to pay thy love : Scene II. The same. Plains near Angiers. And, my good friend, thy voluntary oath
Lives in this bosom, dearly cherished.
Give me thy hand. I had a thing to say,
But I will fit it with some better time. Bast. Now, by my life, this day grows wondrous By heaven, Hubert, I am almost ashamed hot :
To say what good respect I have of thee. Some airy devil hovers in the sky,
Ilub. I am much bounden to your majesty. And pours down mischief.-Austria's head lie K. John. Good friend, thou hast no cause to there,
say so yet: While Philip breathes.
But thou shalt have: and creep time ne'er so slow,
Yet it shall come for me to do thee good. Enler King Joun, Arthur, and IIubert.
I had a thing to say,-- but let it go : K. John. Hubert, keep this boy, Philip, make The sun is in the heaven, and the proud day, up:
Attended with the pleasures of the world, My mother is assailed in our tent,
Is all too wanton and too full of gawds And ta'en I fear.
To give me audience. If the midnight bell
Did, with his iron tongue and brazen mouth, And strain their cheeks to idle merriment,
Without a tongue, using conceit alone,
But ah, I will not :-yet I love thee well;
Hub. So well, that what you bid me undertake,
K. John. Do not I know thou wouldst?
Hub. And I'll keep him so,
K. John. Death.
K. John. Enough.
Eli. My blessing go with thee !
K. John. For England, cousin, go: Hubert shall be your man; attend on you With all true duty.-On toward Calais, ho!
Scene IV.--The same. The French King's Tent.
Young Arthur is my son, and he is lost.
I am not mad : I would to heaven I were ! Enter King Philip, Lewis, PanduLPII, and For then it is like I should forget myself: Attendants.
O, if I could, what grief should I forget!-K. Phi. So, by a roaring tempest on the flood, Preach some philosophy to make me mad, A whole armado of convicted sail
And thou shalt be canonised, cardinal:
How I may be delivered of these woes, K. Phi. What can go well, when we have run And teaches me to kill or hang myself. so ill ?
If I were mad I should forget my son, Are we not beaten : is not Angiers lost :
Or madly think a babe of clouts were lie. Arthur ta'en prisoner: divers dear friends slain : | I am not mad : too well, too well I feel And bloody England into England gone,
The different plague of each calamity! O'erbearing interruption, spite of France ?
K. Phi. Bind up those tresses.- what love Lex. What he hath won, that hath he fortified.
I note So hot a speed with such advice disposed, In the fair multitude of those her hairs ! Such temperate order in so fierce a cause, Where but by chance a silver drop hath fallen, Doth want example. Who hath read or heard Even to that drop ten thousand wiry friends Of any kindred action like to this?
Do glew themselves in sociable grief: K. Phi. Well could I bear that England had Like true, inseparable, faithful loves, this praise,
Sticking together in calamity.
K. Phi. Bind up your hairs.
Const. Yes, that I will : and wherefore will I Look who comes here! a grare unto a soul;
do it? Holding the eternal spirit, against her will, I tore them from their bonds, and cried aloud, In the vile prison of afflicted breath.
“O that these hands could so redeem my son I pr'y thee, lady, go away with me.
As they have given these hairs their liberty !" Const. Lo now; now see the issue of your peace! But now I envy at their liberty, K. Phi. Patience, good lady: comfort, gentle And will again commit thein to their bonds, Constance !
Because my poor child is a prisoner.Const, No, I defy all counsel, all redress, And, father cardinal, I have heard you say But that which ends all counsel, true redress : That we shall see and know our friends in hearen Death, death!-O amiable lovely death!
If that be true, I shall see my boy again; Thou odoriferous stench! sound rottenness! For since the birth of Cain, the first male child, Arise forth from the couch of lasting night, To him that did but yesterday suspire, Thou hate and terror to prosperity,
There was not such a gracious creature born. And I will kiss thy détestable bones,
But now will canker sorrow eat my bud, And put my eyeballs in thy raulty broirs, And chase the natire beauty from his cheek, And ring these fingers with thy household worms, And he will look as hollow as a ghost, And stop this gap of breath with fulsome dust, As dim and meagre as an ague's fit; And be a carrion monster like thyself !
And so he 'll die; and, rising so again, Come, grin on me, and I will think thou smil'st, When I shall meet him in the court of hearen And buss thee as thy wife! Misery's lore, I shall not know him: therefore nerer, nerer, O come to me!
Must I behold my pretty Arthur more. K. Phi. O fair affliction, peace.
Pand. You hold too heinous a respect of grief. Const. No, no, I will not, haring breath to cry. Const. Ile talks to me, that nerer had a son! O that my tongue were in the thunder's mouth! K. Phi. You are as fond of grief as of your child. Then with a passion would I shake the world, Const. Grief fills the room up of my absent child; And rouse from sleep that fell anatomy
Lies in his bed, walks up and down with me, Which cannot hear a lady's feeble roice,
Puts on his pretty looks, repeats his words, Which scorns a modern inrocation.
Remembers me of all his gracious parts, Pand. Lady, you utter madness, and not sorrow, Stuffs out his racant garments with his form:
Const. Thou art not holy to belie me so. Then hare I reason to be fond of grief. I am not mad : this hair I tear is mine;
Fare rou vell: had you such a loss as I, My name is Constance; I was Geffrey's mife; I could gire better comfort than you do.
I will not keep this forin upon my head,
Pand. You, in the right of lady Blanch your [Tearing off her head-uress.
wife, When there is such disorder in my wit.
May then make all the claim that Arthur did. O lord! my boy, my Arthur, my fair son !
Lew. And lose it, life and all, as Arthur did. My life, my joy, my food, my all the world! Pand. How green you are, and fresh in this My widow-comfort, and my sorrows'cure![Exit.
old world! K. Phi. I fear some outrage, and I 'll follow John lays you plots: the times conspire withi her.
you: Lei. There's nothing in this world can make For be that steeps his safety in true blood, me joy :
Shall find but bloody safety and untrue. Life is as tedious as a twice-told tale,
This act, so evilly born, shall cool the hearts Vexing the dull ear of a drowsy man;
Of all his people, and freeze up their zeal; And bitter shame hath spoiled the sweet world's That none so small advantage shall step forth,
To check his reign, but they will cherish it: That it yields nought but shame and bitterness. No natural exhalation in the sky,
Pand. Before the curing of a strong disease, No scape of nature, no distempered day, Even in the instant of repair and health,
No cominon wind, no customéd event, The fit is strongest : evils that take leave, But they wiil pluck away his natural cause, On their departure most of all shew evil.
And call them meteors, prodigies, and signs, What have you lost by losing of this day? Abortives, présages, and tongues of heaven,
Lew. All days of glory, joy, and happiness. Plainly denouncing vengeance upon John.
Pand. If you had won it, certainly you had. Lew. May be he will not touch young Arthur's No, no: when fortune means to men most good,
life, She looks upon them with a threatening eye. But hold himself safe in his prisonment. "Tis strange to think how much King Jolin hath lost Pand. O sir, when he shall hear of your approach, In this which he accounts so clearly won!
If that young Arthur be not gone already, Are not you grieved that Arthur is his prisoner? Even ai that news he dies : and then the hearts
Lew. As lieartily as he is glad he hath him. Of all his people shall revolt from him, Pand. Your mind is all as youthful as your And kiss the lips of unacquainted change, blood.
And pick strong matter of revolt and wrath Now hear me speak with a prophetic spirit: | Out of the bloody fingers'-ends of John. For even the breath of what I mean to speak Methinks I see this hurly all on foot: Shall blow each dust, each straw, each little rub, And 0, what better matter breeds for you Out of the path which shail directly lead
Than I have named!—The bastard Falconbridge Thy foot to England's throne: and therefore mark. Is now in England, ransacking the church, John hath seized Arthur; and it cannot be | Offending charity: if but a dozen French That, whiles warm life plays in that infant's veins, 1 Were there in arms, they would be as a call The misplaced Jolin should entertain an hour, To train ten thousand English to their side ; One minute, nay, one quiet breath of rest. Or as a little snow, tumbled about, A sceptre, snatched with an unruly hand,
Anon becomes a mountain. O noble Dauphin, Must be as boisterously maintained as gained : Go with me to the King : 't is wonderful And he that stands upon a slippery place, What may be wrought out of their discontent. Makes nice of no vile hold to stay him up.
Now that their souls are topful of offence, That John may stand, then, Arthur needs must fall: | For England go: I will whet on the King. So be it, for it cannot be but so.
Lew. Strong reasons make strong actions. Let Lew. But what shall I gain by young Arti ini's fall?
If you say ay, the King will not say no. (Exia.nt