Abbildungen der Seite



K. John. Speak then, prince Dauphin ; can When his fair angels would salute my palm : you love this lady?

But for my hand, as unattempted yet, Lew. Nay, ask me if I can refrain from love; Like a poor beggar raileth on the rich. For I do love her most unfeignedly.

Well, wbiles I am a beggar, I will rail, K. John. Then do I give Volquessen, Touraine, And say,-there is no sin, but to be rich; Maine,

And being rich, my virtue then shall be, Poictiers, and Anjou, these five provinces, To say ,-there is no vice, but beggary : With her to thee, and this addition more: Since kings break faith upon commodity Full thirty thousand matks of English coin. Gain, be my lord ! for I will worship thee ! Philip of France, if thou be pleas'd withal,

[Erit Cominand thy son and daughter to join hands. K. Phi. It likes us well ;-Young princes, close your hands.

ACT III. Aust. And your lips too! for I am well assur’d, SCENE I. The same. The French King's Tents That I did so, when I was first assur’d. K. Phi. Now, citizens of Angiers, ope your Enter Constance, Arthur, and Salisbury.

gates, Let in that amity which you have made ;

Const. Gone to be marriedl gone to swear For at St. Mary's chapel, presently, The rites of marriage shall be solemniz'd. - False blood to false blood join'd! Gone to be Is not the Lady Constance in this troop ?

friends! I know, she is not ; for this match, made up, Shall Lewis have Blanch? and Blanch thome Her presence would have interrupted much :

provinces ? Where is she and her son ? tell me, who knows. It is not so, thou hast misspoke, misheard; Lew. She is sad and passionate at your high. Be well advis'd, tell o'er thy tale again : ness' tent.

It cannot be; thou dost but say, 'tis so: K. Phi. And, by my faith, this league that I trust, I may not trust thee ; for thy word we have made,

Is but the vain breath of a common man; Will give her sadness very little cure. Believe me, I do not believe thee, man; Brother of England, how may we content I have a king's oath to the contrary: This widow lady? In her right we came; Thou shalt be punish'd for thus frighting me, Which we, God knows, have turn'd another For I am sick, and capable of fears ;

Oppress'd with wrongs, and therefore full al To our own vantage.

fears; K. John.

We will heal up all; A widow, husbandless, subject to fears ; For we'll create young Arthur duke of Bretagne, A woman, naturally born to fears; And earl of Richmond : and this rich fair town And though thou now consess, thou didst but We make him lord of.-Call the Lady Con jest, stance;

With my 'vex'd spirits I cannot take a truce, Some speedy messenger bid her repair

But they will quake and tremble all this day To our solemnity :-I trust we shall,

What dost thou mean by shaking of thy head ? If not fill up the measure of her will,

Why dost thou look so sadly on my son ? Yet in some measure satisfy her so,

What means that hand upon that breast of That we shall stop her exclamation.

thine ? Go we, as well as haste will suffer us,

Why holds thine eye that lamentable rheum, To this unlook'd for unprepared pomp:

Like a proud river peering o'er his bounds ? [Exeunt all but the Bastard. - The Citizens Be these sad signs confirmers of thy words? retire from the Walls.

Then speak again: not all thy foriner tale, Bast. Mad world! mad kings! mad conpo- But this one word, whether thy tale be true. sition !

Sal. As true, as, I believe, you think them John, to stop Arthur's title in the whole,

false, Hath willingly departed with a part:

That give you cause to prove my saying true. And France, (whose armour conscience buckled Const. o, if thou teach me to believe this sor. on ;

row, Whom zeal and charity brought to the field, Teach thou this sorrow how to make me die; As God's own soldier,) rounded in the ear And let belief and life encounter so, With that same purpose-changer, that sly devil ; As doth the fury of two desperate men, That broker, that still breaks the pate of faith; Which, in the very meeting, fall, and 'die. That daily break-vow: he that wins of all, Lewis marry Blanch! o, boy, then where art of kings, of beggars, old men, young men,

thou ? maids,

France friend with England ! what becomes of Who having no external thing to lose

me ? But the word maid, --cheats the poor maid of Fellow, be gone; I cannot brook thy sight; that ;

This news hath made thee a most ugly man. That smooth-fac'd gentleman, tickling commo Sal. What other harm have I, good lady, done, dity ;

But spoke the harm that is by others done? Commodity the bias of the world;

Const. Which harm within itself so heinous is, The world, who of itself is peised well,

As it makes harmful all that speak of it. Made to run even, upon even ground

Arth. I do beseech you, madam, be content. Till this advantage, this vile drawing bias, Const. If thou, that bidd'st me be content, wert This sway of motion, this commodity,

grim, Makes it take head from all indifferency, Ugly, and sland'rous to thy mother's womb, From all direction, purpose, course, intent: Full of unpleasing blots, and sightless stains, And this same bias, this commodity,

Lame, foolish, crookerl, swart, prodigions, This bawd, this broker, this all-changing word, Patch'd with foul moles, and eye-offending Clapp'd on the outward eye of fickle France, marks, Hath drawn him from his own determin'd aid, I would not care, I then would be content ; From a resolv'd and honourable war,

For then I should not love thee; no, nor thou To a most base and wile-concluded peace. Become thy great birth, nor deserve a crown. And why rail I on this cominodity? But for because he hath not woo'd me yet:

But thou art fair ; and at thy birth, dear boy!

Nature and fortune join'd to make thee great: Not that I have the power to clutch my hand, Of nature's gifts thou may'st with lilies boast,

ven !

And with the half-blown rose : bút fortune, 0! But when her humorous ladyship is by
She is corrupted, chang’d, and won from thee: To teach thee safety! thou art perjar'd too,
She adulterates hourly with thy uncle John ; And sooth'st up greatness. What a fool art thon,
And with her golden hand hath pluck'd' on A ramping fool: to brag, and stamp, and swear,

Upon my party! Thou cold blooded slave,
To tread down fair respect of sovereignty, Hast thon not spoke like thunder on my sile?
And made his majesty the bawd to theirs. Been sworn my soldier ? bidding me depend
France is a bawd to fortune, and King John; Upon thy stars, thy fortune, and thy strength ?
That strumpet fortune, that usurping John : And dost thou now fall over to my toes ?
Tell me, thou fellow, is not France forsworn ? Thon wear a lion's hide! doff it for shame,
Envenom him with words; or get thee gone, And hang a call's-skin on those recreant lúnbs.
And leave those woes alone, which I alone Aust. 0, that a man should speak those words
Am bound to under-bear.

to me! Sal.

Pardon me, madam, Bast. And hang a calf's-skin on those recreant I may not go without you to the kings.

limbs. Const. Thou may'st, thou shalt, I will not go Aust. Thou dar’st not say so, villain, for thy with thee :

life. I will instruct my sorrows to be proud ;

Bast. And hang a call's-skin on those recreant For grief is proud, and inakes his owner stout. limbs. To me, and io the state of my great grief, K. John. We like not this; thou dost forget Let kings assemble; for my grief's so great,

thyseli. That no supporter but the huge firm earth Can hold it up : here I and sorrow sit;

Enter Pandulph. Here is my throne, bid kings come bow to it. K. Phi. Here comes the holy legate of the [She throws herself on the ground. pope.

Pand. 'Hail, you anointed deputies of heaEnter King John, King Philip, Lewis, Blanch, Elinor, Bastard, Austria, and Attendants.

To thee, King John, my holy errand is. K. Phi. 'Tis true, fair daughter; and this I Pandulph, of fair Milan cardinal, blessed day,

And from Pope Innocent the legate here, Ever in France shall be kept festival :

Do, in his name, religiously demand, To solemnize this day, the glorious sun Why thou against the church, our holy mother Stays in his conrse, and plays the alchemist; So wilfully dost spurn; and, force perforce, Turning, with splendour of his precious eye, Keep Stephen Langton, chosen Archbishop The meagre cloddy earth to glistering gold? of Canterbury, from that holy see? The yearly course, that brings this day about, This, in our 'bresaid holy father's name, Shall never see it but a holiday.

Pope Innocent, I do demand of thee. Const. A wicked day, and not a holyday! K. John. What earthly name to interroga

[Rising: tories, What hath this day deserv'd ? what hath it Can task the free breath of a sacred king ? done ;

Thou canst not, cardinal, devise a name That it in golden letters should be set,

So slight, unworthy, and ridiculous, Among the high tides, in the calendar ?

To charge me to an answer, as the pope. Nay, rather, turn this day out of the week; Tell hin this tale; and from the mouth of Eng. This day of shame, oppression, perjury:

land, Or if it must stand still, let wives with child Add thus much more, -That no Italian pricst Pray, that their burdens may not fall this day, Shall title or toll in our dominions; Lest that their hopes prodigiously be cross'd; But as we under heaven are supreme head, But on this day, let seamen fear no wreck; So under him, that great supremacy, No bargains break, that are not this day made: Where we do reign, we will alone uphold, This day, all things begun come to ill end : Without the assistance of a mortal hand: Yea, faith itself to hollow falsehood change! So tell the pope: all reverence set apart, K. Phi. By heaven, lady, you shall have no To him and his usurp'd authority.

K. Phi. Brother of England, you blasphemo To curse the fair proceedings of this day :

in this. Have I not pawn'd to you my majesty ? K. John. Though you, and all the kings of Conet. You have beguil'd me with a coun Christendom, terfeit,

Are led so grossly by this meddling priest, Resembling majesty ; which, being touch'd, and Dreading the curse that money may buy out ; tried,

And, by the merit of vile gold, dross, dust, Proves valueless : You are forsworn, forsworn; Purchase corrupted pardon of a man, You came in arms to spill mine enemies' blood, Who, in that sale, sells pardon from himself: But now in arms you strengthen it with yours; Though you, and all the rest, so grossly led, The grappling vigour and rough frown of war, ' This juggling witchcraft with revenue cherish: Is cold in amity and painted peace,

Yet I, alone, alone do me oppose And our oppression hath marle up this league - Against the pope, and count his friends my foel Arm, arm, you heavens, against these perjur'd Pand. Then, by the lawful power that I have, kings!

Thou shalt stand curs'd, and excommunicate :
A widow cries; be husband to me, heavens! And blessed shall he be, that doth revolt
Let not the hours of this ungodly day

From his allegiance to an heretick ;
Wear out the day in peace; but, ere sunset, And meritorious shall that hand be callid,
Set armed discord 'twixt these perjur'd kings! Canonized, and worship'd as a saint,
Hear me, O, hear me !

That takes away by any secret course

Lady Constance, peace. Thy hateful life. Const. War! war! no peace! peace is to me Const.

0, lawful let it be,

That I have room with Rome to curse a while ! O Lymoges ! 0 Austria ! thou dost shame Good father cardinal, cry thou, amen, That bloody spoil : Thou slave, thou wretch. To my keen curses; for, without my wrong,, thou coward ;

There is no tongue hath power to curse him Thou little valiant, great in villany!

right. Thou ever strong upon the stronger side 1 Pand. There's law and warrant, lady, for my Thou fortune's champion, that does never fight curse.


a war

Const. And for mine too; when law can do And make a riot on the gentle brow no right,

of true sincerity ? O holy sir,
Let it be lawful, that law bar no wrong: My reverend father, let it not be so ;
Law cannot give my child his kingdom here; Out of your grace, devise, ordain, impose
For he that holds his kingdom, holds the law : Some gentle order; and then we shall be bless'd
Therefore, since law itself is perfect wrong, To do your pleasure, and continue friends.
How can the law forbid my tongue to curse ? Pand. All form is formless, order orderless,

Pand. Philip of France, on peril of a curse, Save what is opposite to England's love.
Let go the hand of that arch-heretick;

Therefore to arms! be champion of our church And raise the power of France upon his head, Or let the church, our mother, breathe her curse, Unless he do submit himself to Rome.

A mother's curse, on her revolting son. Eli. Look'st thou pale, France ? do not let go France, thou may'st hold a serpent by the tongue, thy hand.

A cased lion by the mortal paw, Const. Look to that devil ! lest that France A fasting tiger safer by the tooth, repent,

Than keep in peace that hand which thou dost And, by disjoining hands, hell lose a soul.

hold. Aust. King Philip, listen to the cardinal. K. Phi. I may disjoin my hand, but not my Bast. And hang a call's-skin on his recreant faith. limbs.

Pand. So mak'st thou faith an enemy to faith; Aust. Well, ruffian, I must pocket up these And, like a civil war, sett'st oath to oath, wrongs,

Thy tongue against thy tongue. O, let thy vow Because

First made to heaven, first be to heaven perBast. Your breeches best may carry them. form'd ; K. John. Philip, what say'st thou to the car. That is, to be the champion of our church! dinal ?

What since thou swor'st, is sworn against thy self, Const. What should he say, but as the cardinal ? And may not be performed by thyself : Low. Bethink you, father; for the difference For that, which ihou hast sworn to do amiss, Is, purchase of a heavy curse from Rome, Is not amiss when it is truly done; Or the light loss of England for a friend : And being not done, where doing tends to ill, Forego the easier.

The truth is then most done not doing it : Blanch.

That's the curse of Rome. The better act of purposes mistook Const. O Lewis, stand fast; the devil tempts Is, to mistake again though indirect, thee here,

Yet indirection thereby grows direct, In likeness of a new untrimmed bride.

And falsehood falsehood curos; as fire cools fire, Blanch. The Lady Constance speaks not from Within the scorched veins of one new burn'd. her faith,

It is religion, that doth make vows kept; But from her need.

But thou hast sworn against religion; Const.

O, if thou grant my need, By what thou swear'st, against the thing thou Which only lives but by the death of faith,

swear'st; That need must needs infer this principle, And mak'st an oath the surety for thy truth That faith would live again by death of need; Against an oath : The truth thou art unsure 0, then, tread down my need, and faith mounts up; To swear, swear only not to be forsworn; Keep my need up, and faith is trodden down. Else, what a mockery should it be to swear ? K. John. The king is mov'd, and answers not But thou dost swear only to be forsworn : to this.

And most forsworn, to keep what thou dost Consi. 0, be remoy'd from him, and answer well.

Therefore, thy latter vows, against thy first, Aust. Do so, King Philip; hang no more in Is in thyself rebellion to thyself: doubt.

And better conquest never canst thou make, Bash Hang nothing but a calf's skin, most Than arm thy constant and thy nobler parts sweet lout

Against those giddy loose suggestions : K. Phi. I am perplex'd, and know not what to Upon which better part our prayers come in, say

It'thou vouchsafe them: but, if not, then know, Pand. What canst thou say, but will perplex The peril of our curses light on thee;

So heavy, as thou shalt not shake them off, If thou stand excommunicate, and curs'd ? But, in despair, die under their black weight. K. Phi. Good reverend father, make my person Aust. Rebellion! flat rebellion ! yours,


Will't not be ? And tell me, how you would bestow yourself. Will not a calf-skin stop that mouth of thine ? This royal hand and mine are newly knit; Lew. Father, to arms! And the conjunction of our inward souls


Upon thy wedding day? Married in league, conpled and link'd together Against the blood that thou hast married ? With all religious strength of sacred vows; What, shall our feast be kept with slaughter'd The latest breath that gave the sound of words,

men ? Was deep-sworn faith, peace, amity, true love, Shall braying trumpets, and loud churlish Between our kingdoms, and our royal selves;

diums, And even before this truce, but new before, Clamour's of hell,-be measures to our pomp? No longer than we well could wash our hands, O husband, hear ine!-ah, alack ! how new To clap this royal bargain up of peace,

Is husband in my mouth !-even for that name, Heaven knows, they were besmear'd and over- Which till this time my tongue did ne'er prostain'd

With slaughter's pencil ; where revenge did paint Upon my knee I beg, go not to arms
The fearful difference of incensed kings : Against mine uncle.
And shall these hands, so lately purg'd of blood, Const.

o, upon my knee, So newly join'd in love, so strong in both, Made hard with kneeling, I'do pray to thee, Unyoke this seizure, and this kind regreet'? Thou virtuous Dauphin, alter not the doom Play fast and loose with faith ? so jest with Fore-thought by heaven. heaven,

Blanch. Now shall I see thy love; What mom Make such unconstant children of ourselves, As now again to snatch our palm from palm ; Be stronger with thee than the name of wife? Urswear faith sworn; and on the marriage bed Const. That which upholdeth him that thos Ni mmiling peace to murch a bloody host,



thee more,

tive may

His honour: 0, thine honour, Lewis, thine ho-Bast. Bell, book, and candle, shall not drive nour !

me back; Lew. I muse, your majesty doth seem so cold, When gold and silver becks me to come on. When such profound respects do pull you on. I leave your highness :--Grandam, I will pray Pand. I will denounce a curse upon his head. (If ever I remember to be holy) K. Phi. Thou shalt not need : England, I'll For your fair safety : so I kiss your hand. fall from thee.

Eli Farewell, my gentle cousin. Const. O fair return of banish'd majesty! K. John.

Coz, farewell. Eli. O foul revolt of French inconstancy !

[Erit Bastard. K. John. France, thou shalt rue this hour Eli. Come hither, little kinsman; hark, a word. within this hour.

[She takes Arthur aside. Bast. Old time the clock-setter, that bald sex K. John. Come hither, Hubert. O my gentle ton, time,

Hubert, Is it as he will ? well then, France shall rue. We owe thee much ; within this wall of flesh Blanch. The sun's o'ercast with blood : Fair There is a goul counts thee her creditor, day, adieu !

And with advantage means to pay thy love : Which is the side that I must go withal ?

And, my good friend, thy voluntary oath I am with both: each army hath a hand; Lives in this bosom, dearly cherished. And, in their rage, I having hold of both, Give me thy hand. I had a thing to say, They whirl asunder, and dismember me. But I will fit it with some better time. Husband, I cannot pray that thou may'st win; By heaven, Hubert, I am almost asham'd Uncle, I needs must pray that thou may'st lose; To say what good respect I have of thee. Father, I may not wish the fortune tine; Hub. I am much bounden to your majesty. Grandam, I will not wish thy wishes thrive: K. John. Good friend, thou hast no cause to Whoever wins, on that side shall I lose;

say so yel : Assured loss, before the match be play'd. But thou shall have ; and creep time ne'er so slow, Lew. Lady, with me; with me thy fortune lies. Yet it shall come, for me to do thee good. Blanch. There where my fortune lives, there I had a thing to say,-But let it go : my life dies.

The sun is in the heaven, and the prond day, K. John. Cousin, go draw our puissance to- Attended with the pleasures of the world, gether,

[Exit Bastard. Is all too wanton, and too full of gawds, France, I am burn'd up with inflarning wrath ; To give me audience :-1f the midnight bell A rage, whose heat haih this condition,

Did with his iron tongue, and brazen mouth, That nothing can allay, nothing but blood, Sound one unto the drowsy race of night; The blood, and dearest valu'd blood, of France. If this same were a churchyard where we stand, K. Phi. Thy rage shall burn thee up, and thou And thou possessed with a thousand wrongs; shalt turn

Or if that surly spirit, melancholy, To ashes, ere our blood shall quench that fire: Had bak'd thy blood, and made it heavy, thick, Look to thyself, thou art in jeopardy: X. John. No more than he that threats.—To Making that idiot, langhter, keep men's eyes,

(Which else, runs tickling up and down the veins, arms let's hie!

[Ereunt. And strain their cheeks to idle merriment, SCENE II. The same. Plains near Angiers. A passion hateful to my purposes ;) Alarums; Excursions. Enter the Bastard, with Or if that thou could'st see me without eyes, Austria's Head.

Hear me without thine ears, and make reply

Without a tongue, using conceit alone, Bast. Now, by my life, this day grows won-Without eyes, ears, and harmful sound of words ; drous hot;

Then, in despite of brooded watchful day, Some airy devil hovers in the sky,

I would into thy bosom pour my thoughts : And pours down mischief. Austria's head, lie But ah, I will not :-Yet I love thee well; there :

And, by my troth, I think thou lov'st me well. While Philip breathes.

Hub. So well, that what you bid me undertake, Enter King John, Arthur, and Hubert.

Though that my death were adjunct to my act,

By heaven, I'd do't. K. John. Hubert, keep this boy :-Philip, make K. John. Do not I know, thou would'st? up :

Good Hubert, Hubert, Hubert, throw thine eye My mother is assailed in our tent,

On yon young boy: l'll tell thee what, my friend And ta'en, I fear.

He is a very serpent in my way; Bast.

My lord, I rescu'd her; And, wheresoe'er this foot of mine doth tread, Her highness is in safety, fear you not:

He lies before me: Dost thou understand me But on, my liege: for very little pains

Thon art his keeper. Will bring this labour to an happy end,


And I will keep him so, [Ereunt. That he shall not offend your majesty. SCENE III. The same.

K. John. Death. Alarums ; Excursions ; Retreat. Enter King K. John


My lord ?
John, Elinor, Arthur, the Bastard, Hubert, and

A grave.

He shall not live. Lords.

K. John.

Enough. K. John. So shall it be ; your grace shall stay I could he merry now : Hubert, I love thee ; behind

[To Elinor. Well, I'll not say what I intend for thee; So strongly guarded.-Cousin, look 'not sad : Remember. Madam, fare you well :

[To Arthur. I'll send those powers o'er to your majesty. Thy grandam loves thee, and thy uncle will Eli. My blessing go with thee! As dear be to thee as thy father was.

K. John.
Arth. o, this will make my mother die with Hubert shall be your man, attend on you

For England, cousin : grief. K. John. Cousin [To the Bastard,) away for

With all true dnty.-On toward Calais, oh!

(Eseunt. England; haste before: And, ere our coming, see thou shake the bags

SCENE IV. The same. The French King's Of hoarding abbots : imprisoned angels

Tent. Set thou at liberty : the fat ribs of peace

Enter King Philip, Lewis, Pandulph, and Must by the hungry now be fed upon :

Attendants. Use our commission in his utmost force.

K. Phi. So, by a roaring tenpest on the flood,

A whole armado of convicted sail

I tore them from their bonds; and cried aloud, Is scatter'd and disjoin'd from fellowship. O that these hands could so redeem my son, Pand. Courage and comfort i all shall yet go As they have given these hairs their liberty! well.

But now I envy at their liberty, K. Phi. What can go well, when we have run And will again commit them to their bonds, so ill ?

Because my poor child is a prisoner. Are we not beaten ? Is not Angiers lost? And, father cardinal, I have heard you say, Arthur ta'en prisoner ? divers dear friends slain ? That we shall see and know our friends in And bloody England into England gone,

heaven; O'erbearing interruption, spite of France ? If that be true, I shall see my boy again; Lew. What he hath won, that hath he fortified : For, since the birth of Cain, the first male child, So hot a speed with such advice dispos'd, To him that did but yesterday suspire, Such temperate order in so fierce a cause, There was not such a gracious creature born. Doth want example; Who hath read, or heard, But now will canker sorrow eat my bud, Of any kindred action like to this?

And chase the native beauty from his cheek, K Phi. Well could I bear that England had And he will look as hollow as a ghost; this praise,

As dim and meagre as an ague's fit; So we could find some pattern of our shame. And so he'll die ; and, rising so again,

When I shall meet him in the court of heaven Enter Constance.

I shall not know him : therefore never, never Look, who comes here I a grave unto a soul; Must I behold my pretty Arthur more. Holding the eternal spirit, against her will, Pand. You hold too heinous a respect of griet In the vile prison of afflicted breath:

Const. He talks to me, that never had a son. 1 pr’ythee, lady, go away with me:

K. Phi. You are as fond of grief, as of your Const. Lo, Dow? now see the issue of your const. Grief fills the room up of my absent

peace! K. Phi. Patience, good lady! comfort, gentle child, Constance!

Lies in his bed, walks up and down with me; Const. No, I defy all counsel, all redress, Puts on his pretty looks, repeats his words, But that which ends all counsel, true redress, Remembers me of all his gracious parts, Death, death:- amiable lovely death! Stuff's out his vacant garments with his form; Thou odoriferous stench! sound rottenness! Then, have I reason to be fond of grief. Arise forth from the couch of lasting night, Fare you well: had you such a loss as I, Thou hate and terror to prosperity,

I could give better comfort than you do. And I will kiss thy detestable bones;

I will not keep this form upon my head, And put my eyeballs in thy vaulty brows;

[Tearing off her head-dress. And 'ring these fingers with thy household When there is such disorder in my wit. worms;

O lord, my boy, my Arthur, my fair son! And stop this gap of breath with fulsome dust, My life, my joy, my food, my all the world And be a carrion monster like thyself:

My widow-comfort, and my sorrow's cure! Come, grin on me; and I will think thou smil'st,

(Erit And buss thee as thy wife! Misery's love, K. Phi. I fear some outrage, and I'll follow O, come to me!

[Erit. k. Phi. O fair affliction, peace.

Lew. There's nothing in this world can make Const. No, no, I will not, having breath to me joy; cry:

Life is as tedious as a twice-told tale, O, that my tongue were in the thunder's mouth! Vexing the dull ear of a drowsy man; Then with a passion would I shake the world And bitter shame hath spoil'd the sweet world's And rouse from sleep that fell anatomy,

taste, Which cannot hear a lady's feeble voice, That it yields nought, but shame and bitterness. Which scorns a modern invocation.

Pand. Before the curing of a strong disease, Pand. Lady, you utter madness, and not Even in the instant of repair and health, sorrow

The fit is strongest ; evils, that take leave, Const. Thou art not holy to belie me so; On their departure most of all show evil: I am not mad: this hair I tear is mine; What have you lost by losing of this day? My name is Constance: I was Geffrey's wife; Lew. All days of glory, joy, and happiness. Young Arthur is my son, and he is lost : Pand. If you nad won it, certainly, you had. I am not niad :-I would'to heaven, I were ! No, no: when fortune means to men most good, For then, 'tis like I should forget myself: She looks upon them with a threatening eye. O, if I could, what grief should I forget ! 'Tis strange, to think how much King John hath Preach some philosophy to make me mad,

lost And thou shalt be canoniz'd, cardinal; In this which he accounts so clearly won : For, being not mad, but sensible of grief, Are not you griev'd, that Arthur is his prisoner? My reasonable part produces reason

Lew. As heartily, as he is glad he hath him. How I may be deliver'd of these woes,

Pand. Your mind is all as youthful as your And teaches me to kill or hang myself:

blood. If I were mad, I should forget my son; Now hear me speak, with a prophetic spirit; Or madly think, a babe of clouts were he; For even the breath of what I mean to speak I am not mad; too well, too well I feel Shall blow each dust, each straw, each little The different plague of each calamity.

rub, k. Phi. Bind up those tresses; 0, what love I Out of the path which shall directly lead note

Thy foot to England's throne; and, therefore, In the fair multitude of those her hairs!

mark Where but by chance a silver drop hath fallen, John hath seiz'd Arthur; and it cannot be, Even to that drop ten thousand wiry friends That, whiles warm life plays in that infant's Do glew themselves in sociable grief;

veins, Like true, inseparable, faithful loves,

The misplac'd John should entertain an hour, Sticking together in calamity.

One minute, nay, one quiet breath of rest : Const. To England, if you will.

A scept.'e, snatch'd with an unruly hand, K Phi.

Bind up your hairs. Must be as boisterously maintain'd as gain'd: Const. Yes, that I will ; and wherefore will I And he, that stands upon a slippery, place, do it?

Makes nice of no vile hold to stay him up:


« ZurückWeiter »