are just the useless breath of a common man;
believe me, I do not believe you, man:
the King has sworn differently to me.
You shall be punished for frightening me like this,
for I am sick and liable to take fright,
crushed down by insults and so liable to take fright,
a widow, husbandless, so liable to take fright,
a woman, so naturally liable to take fright;
and even if you now admit that you were just joking
I will not be able to calm my trouble spirits,
but I will shake and tremble the whole day long.
What do you mean by shaking your head like that?
Why are you looking at my son with such sadness?
Why are you holding your hand on your chest?
Why are your eyes full of sad tears,
like a proud river about to flood?
Are these sad signs confirmation of what you say?
Then speak again; not everything you just said,
but in a word, whether you're telling the truth.
SALISBURY.
As true as I believe you think them false
That give you cause to prove my saying true.
I think my words are as true as you believe them to be false,
and that should tell you that what I've said is 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.
Oh, if you persuade me to believe this sadness,
then tell this sorrow to kill me;
let my belief in it and my life come together
like two desperate fighting men
who kill each other when they meet!
Louis married Blanche! Oh boy, where does that leave you?
France friends with England; what will happen to me?
Fellow, get out: I can't stand to look at you;
this news has made you a very ugly man.
SALISBURY.
What other harm have I, good lady, done
But spoke the harm that is by others done?
What harm have I done good lady, apart
from telling you the bad things that others have done?
CONSTANCE.
Which harm within itself so heinous is
As it makes harmful all that speak of it.
Those bad things are so bad that anyone
who speaks of them becomes bad also.
ARTHUR.
I do beseech you, madam, be content.
Please, madam, calm yourself.
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.
If you, who tells me to be calm, were horrid,
ugly, an insult to your mother's womb,
covered with revolting patches and unsightly stains,
lame, foolish, crooked, swarthy, deformed,
covered with foul moles and offensive marks,
I wouldn't care, I would be happy,
for then I wouldn't love you: no, and you wouldn't
be suited to your noble birth, nor would you deserve a crown.
But you are handsome, and when you were born, dear boy,
nature and fortune joined together to make you great:
nature has made you comparable to the lilies
and a half blossomed rose. But fortune, oh,
she has been corrupted, changed and taken away from you;
she is unfaithful to you with your uncle John,
and has with her golden hand chosen France
to ride roughshod over the fair respect due to sovereignty,
and made his majesty a pimp to theirs.
France is a pimp to fortune and King John,
that harlot fortune, that theiving John!
Tell me, fellow, has France broken his oath?
Curse him to me, or get out,
and leave me alone with those sorrows which I
am going to have to endure alone!
SALISBURY.
Pardon me, madam,
I may not go without you to the kings.
I'm sorry, madam,
I can't go back to the kings without you.
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.
You can, and you will; I won't go with you;
I will tell my sorrows to be proud,
for grief is proud, and bows down his owner.
Let the kings come here to me and see
my great grief; it's so great
that only the huge firm earth
is strong enough to support it.
This is where I will sit with my sorrows;
this is my throne, tell the kings to come and 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.
It's true, fair daughter, and this blessed day
will always be a holiday in France from now on.
To celebrate this day the glorious sun
has stopped on his journey and is playing the alchemist,
using the splendour of his precious light
to turn the dull clods into glittering gold.
Every year when this day comes around
it will always be a holiday.
CONSTANCE.
[Rising]A wicked day, and not a holy day!
What hath this day deserv'd? what hath it done
That it i
n 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!
A wicked day, and not a holy day!
What's so good about this day? What happened on it
that it should be given golden letters and placed
amongst the Festival days in the calendar?
No, you should throw this day out of the week,
this day of shame, oppression and perjury;
or, if it has to stay, let pregnant wives
pray that their children will not be born on this day,
in case they turn out to be horribly unlucky;
let sailors fear this day as the worst for wrecks;
break any bargains that are made on it;
everything done on this day will come to a bad end,
why, faith itself will change to hollow falsehood!
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?
By heaven, lady, you shall have no reason
to curse the fair events of this day.
Haven't I loaned 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!
You have tricked me with a forgery
resembling Majesty, which, being touched and tested,
proves to be valueless; you have broken your oath;
you came armed to spill blood of my enemies,
but now, armed, you are strengthening his blood with yours.
The fighting strength and rough frown of war
has become cold in friendship and patched up peace,
and this agreement is sealed by the wrongs you have done us.
Take arms, you heavens, against these perjured kings!
A widow is crying: be a husband to me, heavens!
Don't let this unholy day tick away its time
in peace; before sunset set these
two perjured kings fighting each other!
Hear me, oh, hear me!
AUSTRIA.
Lady Constance, peace!
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.
War! War! No peace! Peace is like a war to me.
O Limoges! Oh Austria! You are shaming
that bloody trophy. You slave, you wretch, you coward!
You have little bravery, and great villainy!
You always side with the strongest!
You are the champion of Fortune, you never fight
except when luck is on your side
to make sure you are safe! You are also a perjurer,
and you creep and crawl to great men. What a fool you are,
a raging fool, to brag and stamp and swear
at my party! You cold-blooded slave,
haven't you spoken like thunder for my party,
been sworn in as my soldier, telling me to trust
in your luck, your stars and your strength,
and now you are revolting against me with my enemies?
You, wearing the lion's skin! Take it off out of shame,
and put a calfskin on your cowardly limbs.
AUSTRIA.
O that a man should speak those words to me!
I wish a man would say those things to me!
BASTARD.
And hang a calf's-skin on those recreant limbs.
Put a calfskin on your cowardly limbs.
AUSTRIA.
Thou dar'st not say so, villain, for thy life.
You wouldn't dare to say that, villain, it'll cost you your life.
BASTARD.
And hang a calf's-skin on those recreant limbs.
And put a calfskin on your cowardly limbs.
KING JOHN.
We like not this: thou dost forget thyself.
I don't like this: you are forgetting yourself.
Enter PANDULPH
KING PHILIP.
Here comes the holy legate of the Pope.
Here comes the holy representative 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.
Greetings, you chosen representatives of heaven!
My holy errand is to you, King John.
I, Pandulph, cardinal of fair Milan,
and the representative of Pope Innocent here,
to religiously demand in his name to know
why you are wilfully disobeying the orders of
the church, our holy mother; why are you using force
to keep Stephen Langton, chosen Archbishop
of Canterbury, from his holy office?
I ask you the question in the name of
ouraforementioned holy father, Pope Innocent.
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,
Without th' assistance of a mortal hand.
So tell the Pope, all reverence set apart
To him and his usurp'd authority.
What earthly man has a right to demand answers
from a free and sacred king?
You couldn't invent a name, Cardinal,
so insignificant, unworthy and silly
to demand an answer from me, as the Pope.
Tell him this, and from the mouth of England's King
add this as well, that no Italian priest
will be allowed to raise taxes or tolls in my kingdom;
as I am the supreme ruler on earth,
so, under the guidance of the supreme God,
where I rule I will rule alone,
without the assistance of a mortal man.
Tell the Pope this, that there is no respect
for him or his stolen power.
KING PHILIP.
Brother of England, you blaspheme in this.
Brother of England, this is blasphemy.
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.
Although you and all the kings of Christendom
are led so disgracefully by this meddling priest,
dreading the curse that you can bribe your way out of,
and by using vile gold, dross, dust,
you can buy a corrupted pardon from a man
who in the selling sells his own right to a pardon–
though you and all the rest are so disgracefully led,
supporting this juggling witchcraft with funds;
I set myself alone to oppose
the Pope, and I regard his friends as my enemies.
PANDULPH.
The Complete Works of William Shakespeare In Plain and Simple English (Translated) Page 7