But when her humorous ladyship is by [swear, Bast. And hang a calf's-skin on those recreant limbs. Aust. Thou dar'st not say so, villain, for thy life. Bast. And hang a calf's-skin on those recreant limbs. K. John. We like not this; thou dost forget thyself. Enter PANDulph. K. Phi. Here comes the holy legate of the pope. Pand. Hail, you anointed deputies of heaven! To thee, king John, my holy errand is. I Pandulph, of fair Milan cardinal, And from pope Innocent the legate here, Do, in his name, religiously demand, Why thou against the church, our holy mother, So wilfully dost spurn; and, force perforce, Keep Stephen Langton, chosen archbishop Of Canterbury, from that holy see? This, in our 'foresaid holy father's name, Pope Innocent, I do demand of thee. K. John. What earthly name to interrogatories, Can task the free breath of a sacred king? Add thus much more,-That no Italian priest But as we under heaven are supreme head, K. Phi. Brother of England, you blaspheme in this. K. John. Though you, and all the kings of Christendom, Are led so grossly by this meddling priest, Const. O, lawful let it be, That I have room with Rome to curse a while! Pand. There's law and warrant, lady, for my curse. Const. And for mine too; when law can do no right, Let it be lawful, that law bar no wrong: Pand. Philip of France, on peril of a curse, Eli. Look'st thou pale, France? do not let go thy hand. Const. Look to that, devil! lest that France repent, And, by disjoining hands, hell lose a soul. Aust. King Philip, listen to the cardinal. Bast. And hang a calf's-skin on his recreant limbs. Aust. Well, ruffian, I must pocket up these Because[wrongs, Bast. Your breeches best may carry them. K. John. Philip, what say'st thou to the cardinal? Const. What should he say, but as the cardinal? Lew. Bethink you, father; for the difference Is, purchase of a heavy curse from Rome, Or the light loss of England for a friend : Forego the easier. Blanch. That's the curse of Rome. In likeness of a new untrimmed* bride. Const. O, if thou grant my need, So heavy, as thou shalt not shake them off, But, in despair, die under their black weight. Aust. Rebellion, flat rebellion! Bust. Will't not be? Between our kingdoms, and our royal selves;, And even before this truce, but new betore, No longer than we well could wash our hands, To clap this royal bargain up of peace, Heaven knows, they were besmear'd and overstain'd [paint With slaughter's pencil; where revenge did The fearful difference of incensed kings: And shall these hands, so lately purg'd of blood, So newly join'd in love, so strong in both, Make such unconstant children of ourselves, To do your pleasure, and continue friends. Pund. All form is formless, order orderless, Save what is opposite to England's love. Therefore, to arms! be champion of our church! Or let the church, our mother, breathe her curse, A mother's curse, on her revolting son. K. Phi. I may disjoin my hand, but not my faith. Pand. So mak'st thou faith an enemy to faith; And, like a civil war, set'st oath to oath, That is, to be the champion of our church! [fire, And mak'st an oath the surety for thy truth swear. Therefore, thy latter vows, against thy first, And better conquest never canst thou make, • Exchange of salutation, Will not a calf's-skin stop that mouth of thine Lew. Father, to arms! Blanch. Upon thy wedding day? Against the blood that thou hast married? What, shall our feast be kept with slaughter'd [drums, men? Shall braying trumpets, and loud churlish Const. O, upon my knee, Made hard with kneeling, I do pray to thee, Thou virtuous Dauphin, alter not the doom Fore-thought by heaven. Blanch. Now shall I see thy love; What motive may Be stronger with thee than the name of wife? Const. That which upholdeth him that thee [honour! His honour: O, thine honour, Lewis, thine Lew. I muse,t your majesty doth seem so upholds, cold, When such profound respects do pull you on. Pand. I will denounce a curse upon his head. K. Phi. Thou shalt not need:-England, I'll fall from thee. Const. O fair return of banish'd majesty ! Eli. O foul revolt of French inconstancy! K. John. France, thou shalt rue this hour within this hour. Bast. Old time the clock-setter, that bald sexton time, Is it as he will? well then, France shall rue. Blanch. The sun's o'ercast with blood: Fair day, adieu! Which is the side that I must go withal? Father, I may not wish the fortune thine; Blanch. There where my fortune lives, there my life dies. K. John. Cousin, go draw our puissance‡ together.[Exit BASTARD. France, I am burn'd up with inflaming wrath; A rage, whose heat hath this condition, Than nothing can allay, nothing but blood, The blood, and dearest-valu'd blood, of France. K. Phi. Thy rage shall burn thee up, and thou shalt turn To ashes, ere our blood shall quench that fire: Look to thyself, thou art in jeopardy. K. John. No more than he that threats.-To arms lets hie! [Exeunt. SCENE II.-The same.-Plains near Angiers. Alarums, Excursions.-Enter the BASTARD, with AUSTRIA's head. Bast. Now, by my life, this day grows won drous hot; Music for dancing. + Wonder. Fores SCENE III.-The same. Alarums; Excursions; Retreat. Enter King JOHN, ELINOR, ARTHUR, the Bastard, HuBERT, and Lords. K. John. So shall it be; your grace shall stay behind, [To ELINOR. So strongly guarded.-Cousin, look not sad: [To ARTHUR. Thy grandam loves thee; and thy uncle will As dear be to thee as thy father was. Arth. O, this will make my mother die with grief. K. John. Cousin, [To the BASTARD] away for And, ere our coming, see thou shake the bags Bast. Bell, book, and candle shall not drive When gold and silver becks me to come on. For your fair safety; so I kiss your hand. K. John. Coz, farewell. [Exit BASTARD. We owe thee much; within this wall of flesh And thou possessed with a thousand wrongs; Had bak'd thy blood, and made it heavy, thick; (Which, else, runs tickling up and down the veins, On yon young boy: I'll tell thee what, my Hub. And I will keep him so, Hub. My lord? K. John. A grave. Hub. He shall not live. I could be merry now: Hubert, I love thee; K. John. Enough. Well, I'll not say what I intend for thee: Remember.Madam, fare you well: I'll send those powers o'er to your majesty. Eli. My blessing go with thee! K. John. For England, cousin: Hubert shall be your man, attend on you With all true duty.-On toward Calais, ho! [Exeunt. SCENE IV. The same.-The French King Tent. Enter King PHILIP, LEWIS, PANdulph, and Attendants. K. Phi. So, by a roaring tempest on the A whole armadot of convicted sail [flood, Is scatter'd and disjoin'd from fellowship. Pund. Courage and comfort! all shall yet go well. K. Phi. What can go well, when we have run so ill? Are we not beaten? Is not Angiers lost? Arthur ta'en prisoner? divers dear friends slain? And bloody England into England gone, Lew. What he hath won, that hath he fortiSo hot a speed with such advice dispos'd, [fied: Such temperate order in so fierce a cause, Doth want example: Who hath read, or heard, Of any kindred action like to this? K. Phi. Well could I bear that England häd this praise, So we could find some pattern of our shame. Const. No, I defy* all counsel, all redress, But that which ends all counsel, true redress, Death, death:-O amiable lovely death! Thou odoriferous stench! sound rottenness! Arise forth from the couch of lasting night, Thou hate and terror to prosperity, And I will kiss thy détestable bones; And put my eye-balls in thy vaulty brows; And ring these fingers with thy household worms; And stop this gap of breath with fulsome dust, And buss thee as thy wife! Misery's love, K. Phi. O fair affliction, peace. Const. No, no, I will not, having breath to cry:[mouth! O, that my tongue were in the thunder's Then with a passion would I shake the world; And rouse from sleep that fell anatomy, Which cannot hear a lady's feeble voice, Which scorns a modernt invocation. Pand. Lady, you utter madness, and not sorrow. Const. Thou art not holy to belie me so; I am not mad: this hair I tear, is mine; My name is Constance; I was Geffrey's wife; Young Arthur is my son, and he is lost: I am not mad;-I would to heaven, I were! For then, 'tis like I should forget myself: O, if I could, what grief should I forget!Preach some philosophy to make me mad, And thou shalt be canoniz'd, cardinal; For, being not mad, but sensible of grief, My reasonable part produces reason How I may be deliver'd of these woes, And teaches me to kill or hang myself: If I were mad, I should forget my son; Or madly think, a babe of clouts were he: I am not mad; too well, too well I feel The different plague of each calamity. K. Phi. Bind up those tresses: O, what love In the fair multitude of those her hairs! Const. To England, if you will. Const. Yes, that I will; and wherefore will I tore them from their bonds; and cried aloud, If that be true, I shall see my boy again; Refuse. † Common. ↑ Breathe. Graceful. Pund. You hold too heinous a respect grief. Const. He talks to me, that never had a sox. K. Phi. You are as fond of grief, as of your child. Const. Grief fills the room up of my absent child, Lies in his bed, walks up and down with me; Life is as tedious as a twice-told tale, That it yields naught, but shame, and bitter ness. Pund. Before the curing of a strong disease, Even in the instant of repair and health, The fit is strongest; evils, that take leave, On their departure most of all show evil: What have you lost by losing of this day? Lew. All days of glory, joy, and happiness. Pand. If you have won it, certainly, you had. No, no: when fortune means to men most good, She looks upon them with a threatening eye. "Tis strange, to think how much King Jonn hath lost John hath seiz'd Arthur; and it cannot be, That, whiles warm life plays in that infant's veins, The misplac'd John should entertain an hour, Lew. But what shall I gain by young Ar This act, so evilly born, shall cool the hearts But hold himself safe in his prisonment. If that young Arthur be not gone already, Is now in England, ransacking the church, If you say, ay, the king will not say, no. Arth. Good morrow, Hubert. Hub. Good morrow, little prince. Methinks, no body should be sad but I: ■ Tapestry. Is it my fault that I was Geffrey's son? Hub. If I talk to him, with his innocent prate to-day: In sooth, I would you were a little sick; Read here, young Arthur. [Showing a paper.] Arth. Too fairly, Hubert, for so foul effect: Must you with hot irons burn out both mine. eyes? Hub. Young boy, I must. Hub. And 1 will. Arth. Have you the heart? When your head did but ake, I knit my handkerchief about your brows, Or, What good love may I perform for you? These eyes, that never did, nor never shall, Hub. I have sworn to do it; And with hot irons must I burn them out. Arth. Ah, none, but in this iron age, would do it! The iron of itself, though heat red-hot, An if an angel should have come to me, bert's. |