The Arden Shakespeare Complete Works
Page 267
And even before this truce, but new before,
No longer than we well could wash our hands
160
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,
165
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,
170
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!
175
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.
180
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 cased lion by the mortal paw,
185
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,
190
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,
195
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
200
Is to mistake again; though indirect,
Yet indirection thereby grows direct,
And falsehood falsehood cures, as fire cools fire
Within the scorched veins of one new-burn’d.
It is religion that doth make vows kept,
205
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! –
210
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;
215
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 prayers come in,
If thou vouchsafe them. But if not, then know
220
The peril of our curses light on thee
So heavy as thou shalt not shake them off,
But in despair die under their black weight.
AUSTRIA Rebellion, flat rebellion!
BASTARD Will’t not be?
Will not a calve’s-skin stop that mouth of thine?
225
LEWIS Father, to arms!
BLANCHE Upon thy wedding-day?
Against the blood that thou hast married?
What, shall our feast be kept with slaughter’d men?
Shall braying trumpets and loud churlish drums,
Clamours of hell, be measures to our pomp?
230
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,
235
Made hard with kneeling, I do pray to thee,
Thou virtuous Dolphin, alter not the doom
Forethought by heaven!
BLANCHE Now shall I see thy love: what motive may
Be stronger with thee than the name of wife?
240
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.
245
KING PHILIP
Thou shalt not need. England, I will fall from thee.
CONSTANCE O fair return of banish’d majesty!
ELEANOR 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,
250
Is it as he will? well then, France shall rue.
BLANCHE
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,
255
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:
260
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.
BLANCHE
There where my fortune li’es, there my life dies.
KING JOHN Cousin, go draw our puissance together.
265
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-valued blood, of France.
KING PHILIP
Thy rage shall burn thee up, and thou shalt turn
270
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.
3.2 Alarums, excursions. Enter the Bastard, with AUSTRIA’S head.
BASTARD
Now, by my life, this day grows wondrous hot;
Some airy devil hovers in the sky,
And pours down mischief. Austria’s head lie there,
Enter KING JOHN, ARTHUR and HUBERT.
While Philip breathes.
KING JOHN Hubert, keep this boy. Philip, make up:
5
My mother is assailed in our tent,
And ta’en, I fear.
BASTARD My lord, I rescued her;
Her highness is in safety, fear you not:
But on, my liege; for very little pains
Will bring this la
bour to an happy end. Exeunt.
10
Alarums, excursions, retreat. Re-enter KING JOHN, ARTHUR, the Bastard, HUBERT, with ELEANOR and lords.
KING JOHN [to Eleanor]
So shall it be; your grace shall stay behind
So strongly guarded. [to Arthur] Cousin, look not sad:
Thy grandam loves thee; and thy uncle will
As dear be to thee as thy father was.
ARTHUR O, this will make my mother die with grief!
15
KING JOHN [to the Bastard]
Cousin, away for England! haste before:
And, ere our coming, see thou shake the bags
Of hoarding abbots; imprison’d angels
Set at liberty: the fat ribs of peace
Must by the hungry now be fed upon:
20
Use our commission in his utmost force.
BASTARD
Bell, book, and candle shall not drive me back
When gold and silver becks me to come on:
I leave your highness. Grandam, I will pray –
If ever I remember to be holy –
25
For your fair safety; so, I kiss your hand.
ELEANOR Farewell, gentle cousin.
KING JOHN Coz, farewell.
Exit Bastard.
ELEANOR Come hither, little kinsman; hark, a word.
[She takes Arthur aside.]
KING JOHN Come hither, Hubert. O my gentle Hubert,
We owe thee much! within this wall of flesh
30
There is a soul counts thee her creditor,
And with advantage means to pay thy love:
And, my good friend, thy voluntary oath
Lives in this bosom, dearly cherished.
Give me thy hand. I had a thing to say,
35
But I will fit it with some better tune.
By heaven, Hubert, I am almost asham’d
To say what good respect I have of thee.
HUBERT I am much bounden to your majesty.
KING JOHN
Good friend, thou hast no cause to say so yet,
40
But thou shalt have; and creep time ne’er so slow,
Yet it shall come for me to do thee good.
I had a thing to say, but let it go:
The sun is in the heaven, and the proud day,
Attended with the pleasures of the world,
45
Is all too wanton and too full of gauds
To give me audience: if the midnight bell
Did, with his iron tongue and brazen mouth,
Sound on into the drowsy race of night;
If this same were a churchyard where we stand,
50
And thou possessed with a thousand wrongs;
Or if that surly spirit, melancholy,
Had bak’d thy blood and made it heavy, thick,
Which else runs tickling up and down the veins,
Making that idiot, laughter, keep men’s eyes
55
And strain their cheeks to idle merriment,
A passion hateful to my purposes;
Or if that thou couldst see me without eyes,
Hear me without thine ears, and make reply
Without a tongue, using conceit alone,
60
Without eyes, ears, and harmful sound of words;
Then, in despite of brooded watchful day,
I would into thy bosom pour my thoughts:
But, ah, I will not. Yet I love thee well;
And, by my troth, I think thou lov’st me well.
65
HUBERT So well, that what you bid me undertake,
Though that my death were adjunct to my act,
By heaven, I would do it.
KING JOHN Do not I know thou wouldst?
Good Hubert, Hubert, Hubert, throw thine eye
On yon young boy; I’ll tell thee what, my friend,
70
He is a very serpent in my way;
And wheresoe’er this foot of mine doth tread,
He lies before me: dost thou understand me?
Thou art his keeper.
HUBERT And I’ll keep him so
That he shall not offend your majesty.
75
KING JOHN Death.
HUBERT My lord?
KING JOHN A grave.
HUBERT He shall not live.
KING JOHN Enough.
I could be merry now. Hubert, I love thee.
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.
80
ELEANOR My blessing go with thee!
KING JOHN For England, cousin, go: