The Complete Works of William Shakespeare Part 246

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France. The FRENCH KING'S camp

Enter CONSTANCE, ARTHUR, and SALISBURY

CONSTANCE. Gone to be married! Gone to swear a peace!

False blood to false blood join'd! Gone to be friends!

Shall Lewis have Blanch, and Blanch those provinces?

It is not so; thou hast misspoke, misheard; Be well advis'd, tell o'er thy tale again.

It cannot be; thou dost but say 'tis so; I trust I may not trust thee, for thy word Is but the vain breath of a common man: Believe me I do not believe thee, man; I have a king's oath to the contrary.

Thou shalt be punish'd for thus frighting me, For I am sick and capable of fears, Oppress'd with wrongs, and therefore full of fears; A widow, husbandless, subject to fears; A woman, naturally born to fears; And though thou now confess thou didst but jest, With my vex'd spirits I cannot take a truce, But they will quake and tremble all this day.

What dost thou mean by shaking of thy head?

Why dost thou look so sadly on my son?

What means that hand upon that breast of thine?

Why holds thine eye that lamentable rheum, Like a proud river peering o'er his bounds?

Be these sad signs confirmers of thy words?

Then speak again-not all thy former tale, But this one word, whether thy tale be true.

SALISBURY. As true as I believe you think them false That give you cause to prove my saying true.

CONSTANCE. O, if thou teach me to believe this sorrow, Teach thou this sorrow how to make me die; And let belief and life encounter so As doth the fury of two desperate men Which in the very meeting fall and die!

Lewis marry Blanch! O boy, then where art thou?

France friend with England; what becomes of me?

Fellow, be gone: I cannot brook thy sight; This news hath made thee a most ugly man.

SALISBURY. What other harm have I, good lady, done But spoke the harm that is by others done?

CONSTANCE. Which harm within itself so heinous is As it makes harmful all that speak of it.

ARTHUR. I do beseech you, madam, be content.

CONSTANCE. If thou that bid'st me be content wert grim, Ugly, and sland'rous to thy mother's womb, Full of unpleasing blots and sightless stains, Lame, foolish, crooked, swart, prodigious, Patch'd with foul moles and eye-offending marks, I would not care, I then would be content; For then I should not love thee; no, nor thou Become thy great birth, nor deserve a crown.

But thou art fair, and at thy birth, dear boy, Nature and Fortune join'd to make thee great: Of Nature's gifts thou mayst with lilies boast, And with the half-blown rose; but Fortune, O!

She is corrupted, chang'd, and won from thee; Sh' adulterates hourly with thine uncle John, And with her golden hand hath pluck'd on France To tread down fair respect of sovereignty, And made his majesty the bawd to theirs.

France is a bawd to Fortune and King John- That strumpet Fortune, that usurping John!

Tell me, thou fellow, is not France forsworn?

Envenom him with words, or get thee gone And leave those woes alone which I alone Am bound to under-bear.

SALISBURY. Pardon me, madam, I may not go without you to the kings.

CONSTANCE. Thou mayst, thou shalt; I will not go with thee; I will instruct my sorrows to be proud, For grief is proud, and makes his owner stoop.

To me, and to the state of my great grief, Let kings a.s.semble; for my grief's so great That no supporter but the huge firm earth Can hold it up. [Seats herself on the ground]

Here I and sorrows sit; Here is my throne, bid kings come bow to it.

Enter KING JOHN, KING PHILIP, LEWIS, BLANCH, ELINOR, the b.a.s.t.a.r.d, AUSTRIA, and attendants

KING PHILIP. 'Tis true, fair daughter, and this blessed day Ever in France shall be kept festival.

To solemnize this day the glorious sun Stays in his course and plays the alchemist, Turning with splendour of his precious eye The meagre cloddy earth to glittering gold.

The yearly course that brings this day about Shall never see it but a holiday.

CONSTANCE. [Rising] A wicked day, and not a holy day!

What hath this day deserv'd? what hath it done That it in golden letters should be set Among the high tides in the calendar?

Nay, rather turn this day out of the week, This day of shame, oppression, perjury; Or, if it must stand still, let wives with child Pray that their burdens may not fall this day, Lest that their hopes prodigiously be cross'd; But on this day let seamen fear no wreck; No bargains break that are not this day made; This day, all things begun come to ill end, Yea, faith itself to hollow falsehood change!

KING PHILIP. By heaven, lady, you shall have no cause To curse the fair proceedings of this day.

Have I not p.a.w.n'd to you my majesty?

CONSTANCE. You have beguil'd me with a counterfeit Resembling majesty, which, being touch'd and tried, Proves valueless; you are forsworn, forsworn; You came in arms to spill mine enemies' blood, But now in arms you strengthen it with yours.

The grappling vigour and rough frown of war Is cold in amity and painted peace, And our oppression hath made up this league.

Arm, arm, you heavens, against these perjur'd kings!

A widow cries: Be husband to me, heavens!

Let not the hours of this unG.o.dly day Wear out the day in peace; but, ere sunset, Set armed discord 'twixt these perjur'd kings!

Hear me, O, hear me!

AUSTRIA. Lady Constance, peace!

CONSTANCE. War! war! no peace! Peace is to me a war.

O Lymoges! O Austria! thou dost shame That b.l.o.o.d.y spoil. Thou slave, thou wretch, thou coward!

Thou little valiant, great in villainy!

Thou ever strong upon the stronger side!

Thou Fortune's champion that dost never fight But when her humorous ladys.h.i.+p is by To teach thee safety! Thou art perjur'd too, And sooth'st up greatness. What a fool art thou, A ramping fool, to brag and stamp and swear Upon my party! Thou cold-blooded slave, Hast thou not spoke like thunder on my side, Been sworn my soldier, bidding me depend Upon thy stars, thy fortune, and thy strength, And dost thou now fall over to my foes?

Thou wear a lion's hide! Doff it for shame, And hang a calf's-skin on those recreant limbs.

AUSTRIA. O that a man should speak those words to me!

b.a.s.t.a.r.d. And hang a calf's-skin on those recreant limbs.

AUSTRIA. Thou dar'st not say so, villain, for thy life.

b.a.s.t.a.r.d. And hang a calf's-skin on those recreant limbs.

KING JOHN. We like not this: thou dost forget thyself.

Enter PANDULPH

KING PHILIP. Here comes the holy legate of the Pope.

PANDULPH. 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.

KING JOHN. What earthly name to interrogatories Can task the free breath of a sacred king?

Thou canst not, Cardinal, devise a name So slight, unworthy, and ridiculous, To charge me to an answer, as the Pope.

Tell him this tale, and from the mouth of England Add thus much more, that no Italian priest Shall t.i.the or toll in our dominions; But as we under heaven are supreme head, So, under Him that great supremacy, Where we do reign we will alone uphold, Without th' a.s.sistance of a mortal hand.

So tell the Pope, all reverence set apart To him and his usurp'd authority.

KING PHILIP. Brother of England, you blaspheme in this.

KING JOHN. Though you and all the kings of Christendom Are led so grossly by this meddling priest, Dreading the curse that money may buy out, And by the merit of vile gold, dross, dust, Purchase corrupted pardon of a man, Who in that sale sells pardon from himself- Though you and all the rest, so grossly led, This juggling witchcraft with revenue cherish; Yet I alone, alone do me oppose Against the Pope, and count his friends my foes.

PANDULPH. Then by the lawful power that I have Thou shalt stand curs'd and excommunicate; And blessed shall he be that doth revolt From his allegiance to an heretic; And meritorious shall that hand be call'd, Canonized, and wors.h.i.+pp'd as a saint, That takes away by any secret course Thy hateful life.

CONSTANCE. O, lawful let it be That I have room with Rome to curse awhile!

Good father Cardinal, cry thou 'amen'

To my keen curses; for without my wrong There is no tongue hath power to curse him right.

PANDULPH. There's law and warrant, lady, for my curse.

CONSTANCE. And for mine too; when law can do no right, Let it be lawful that law bar no wrong; Law cannot give my child his kingdom here, For he that holds his kingdom holds the law; Therefore, since law itself is perfect wrong, How can the law forbid my tongue to curse?

PANDULPH. Philip of France, on peril of a curse, Let go the hand of that arch-heretic, And raise the power of France upon his head, Unless he do submit himself to Rome.

ELINOR. Look'st thou pale, France? Do not let go thy hand.

CONSTANCE. Look to that, devil, lest that France repent And by disjoining hands h.e.l.l lose a soul.

AUSTRIA. King Philip, listen to the Cardinal.

b.a.s.t.a.r.d. And hang a calf's-skin on his recreant limbs.

AUSTRIA. Well, ruffian, I must pocket up these wrongs, Because- b.a.s.t.a.r.d. Your breeches best may carry them.

KING JOHN. Philip, what say'st thou to the Cardinal?

CONSTANCE. What should he say, but as the Cardinal?

LEWIS. Bethink you, father; for the difference Is purchase of a heavy curse from Rome Or the light loss of England for a friend.

Forgo the easier.

BLANCH. That's the curse of Rome.

CONSTANCE. O Lewis, stand fast! The devil tempts thee here In likeness of a new untrimmed bride.

BLANCH. The Lady Constance speaks not from her faith, But from her need.

CONSTANCE. O, if thou grant my need, Which only lives but by the death of faith, That need must needs infer this principle- That faith would live again by death of need.

O then, tread down my need, and faith mounts up: Keep my need up, and faith is trodden down!

KING JOHN. The King is mov'd, and answers not to this.

CONSTANCE. O be remov'd from him, and answer well!

The Complete Works of William Shakespeare Part 246

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The Complete Works of William Shakespeare Part 246 summary

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