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King John
act iii   Scene 1.
William Shakespeare
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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 assemble; 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 BASTARD, 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 pawn'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 ungodly 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 bloody 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 ladyship 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!
       BASTARD
       And hang a calf's-skin on those recreant limbs.
       AUSTRIA
       Thou dar'st not say so, villain, for thy life.
       BASTARD
       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 tithe 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' assistance 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 worshipp'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 hell lose a soul.
       AUSTRIA
       King Philip, listen to the Cardinal.
       BASTARD
       And hang a calf's-skin on his recreant limbs.
       AUSTRIA
       Well, ruffian, I must pocket up these wrongs,
       Because-
       BASTARD
       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!
       AUSTRIA
       Do so, King Philip; hang no more in doubt.
       BASTARD
       Hang nothing but a calf's-skin, most sweet lout.
       KING PHILIP
       I am perplex'd and know not what to say.
       PANDULPH
       What canst thou say but will perplex thee more,
       If thou stand excommunicate and curs'd?
       KING PHILIP
       Good reverend father, make my person yours,
       And tell me how you would bestow yourself.
       This royal hand and mine are newly knit,
       And the conjunction of our inward souls
       Married in league, coupled and link'd together
       With all religious strength of sacred vows;
       The latest breath that gave the sound of words
       Was deep-sworn faith, peace, amity, true love,
       Between our kingdoms and our royal selves;
       And even before this truce, but new before,
       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
       With slaughter's pencil, where revenge did paint
       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,
       Unyoke this seizure and this kind regreet?
       Play fast and loose with faith? so jest with heaven,
       Make such unconstant children of ourselves,
       As now again to snatch our palm from palm,
       Unswear faith sworn, and on the marriage-bed
       Of smiling peace to march a bloody host,
       And make a riot on the gentle brow
       Of true sincerity? O, holy sir,
       My reverend father, let it not be so!
       Out of your grace, devise, ordain, impose,
       Some gentle order; and then we shall be blest
       To do your pleasure, and continue friends.
       PANDULPH
       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.
       France, thou mayst hold a serpent by the tongue,
       A chafed lion by the mortal paw,
       A fasting tiger safer by the tooth,
       Than keep in peace that hand which thou dost hold.
       KING PHILIP
       I may disjoin my hand, but not my faith.
       PANDULPH
       So mak'st thou faith an enemy to faith;
       And like. a civil war set'st oath to oath.
       Thy tongue against thy tongue. O, let thy vow
       First made to heaven, first be to heaven perform'd,
       That is, to be the champion of our Church.
       What since thou swor'st is sworn against thyself
       And may not be performed by thyself,
       For that which thou hast sworn to do amiss
       Is not amiss when it is truly done;
       And being not done, where doing tends to ill,
       The truth is then most done not doing it;
       The better act of purposes mistook
       Is to mistake again; though indirect,
       Yet indirection thereby grows direct,
       And falsehood cures, as fire cools fire
       Within the scorched veins of one new-burn'd.
       It is religion that doth make vows kept;
       But thou hast sworn against religion
       By what thou swear'st against the thing thou swear'st,
       And mak'st an oath the surety for thy truth
       Against an oath; the truth thou art unsure
       To swear swears only not to be forsworn;
       Else what a mockery should it be to swear!
       But thou dost swear only to be forsworn;
       And most forsworn to keep what thou dost swear.
       Therefore thy later vows against thy first
       Is in thyself rebellion to thyself;
       And better conquest never canst thou make
       Than arm thy constant and thy nobler parts
       Against these giddy loose suggestions;
       Upon which better part our pray'rs come in,
       If thou vouchsafe them. But if not, then know
       The peril of our curses fight on thee
       So heavy as thou shalt not shake them off,
       But in despair die under the black weight.
       AUSTRIA
       Rebellion, flat rebellion!
       BASTARD
       Will't not be?
       Will not a calf's-skin stop that mouth of thine?
       LEWIS
       Father, to arms!
       BLANCH
       Upon thy wedding-day?
       Against the blood that thou hast married?
       What, shall our feast be kept with slaughtered men?
       Shall braying trumpets and loud churlish drums,
       Clamours of hell, be measures to our pomp?
       O husband, hear me! ay, alack, how new
       Is 'husband' in my mouth! even for that name,
       Which till this time my tongue did ne'er pronounce,
       Upon my knee I beg, go not to arms
       Against mine uncle.
       CONSTANCE
       O, upon my knee,
       Made hard with kneeling, I do pray to thee,
       Thou virtuous Dauphin, alter not the doom
       Forethought by heaven!
       BLANCH
       Now shall I see thy love. What motive may
       Be stronger with thee than the name of wife?
       CONSTANCE
       That which upholdeth him that thee upholds,
       His honour. O, thine honour, Lewis, thine honour!
       LEWIS
       I muse your Majesty doth seem so cold,
       When such profound respects do pull you on.
       PANDULPH
       I will denounce a curse upon his head.
       KING PHILIP
       Thou shalt not need. England, I will fall from thee.
       CONSTANCE
       O fair return of banish'd majesty!
       ELINOR
       O foul revolt of French inconstancy!
       KING JOHN
       France, thou shalt rue this hour within this hour.
       BASTARD
       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?
       I am with both: each army hath a hand;
       And in their rage, I having hold of both,
       They whirl asunder and dismember me.
       Husband, I cannot pray that thou mayst win;
       Uncle, I needs must pray that thou mayst lose;
       Father, I may not wish the fortune thine;
       Grandam, I will not wish thy wishes thrive.
       Whoever wins, on that side shall I lose:
       Assured loss before the match be play'd.
       LEWIS
       Lady, with me, with me thy fortune lies.
       BLANCH
       There where my fortune lives, there my life dies.
       KING 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
       That nothing can allay, nothing but blood,
       The blood, and dearest-valu'd blood, of France.
       KING PHILIP
       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.
       KING JOHN
       No more than he that threats. To arms let's hie!
       Exeunt severally
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Dramatis Personae
act i
   Scene 1
act ii
   Scene 1
act iii
   Scene 1.
   Scene 2.
   Scene 3.
   Scene 4.
act iv
   Scene 1.
   Scene 2.
   Scene 3.
act v
   Scene 1.
   Scene 2.
   Scene 3.
   Scene 4.
   Scene 5.
   Scene 6.
   Scene 7.