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Enter KING PHILIP OF FRANCE, LOUIS THE DAUPHIN, PANDULPH, Attendants.
Enter KING PHILIP OF FRANCE, LOUIS THE DAUPHIN, PANDULPH, Attendants.
KING PHILIP
So, by a roaring tempest on the flood,
A whole armada of convicted sail
Is scattered and disjoined from fellowship.
KING PHILIP
So, by a roaring tempest on the flood,
A whole armada of convicted sail
Is scattered and disjoined from fellowship.
PANDULPH
Courage and comfort. All shall yet go well.
PANDULPH
Courage and comfort. All shall yet go well.
KING PHILIP
5
What can go well when we have run so ill?
Are we not beaten? Is not Angiers lost?
Arthur ta’en prisoner? Divers dear friends slain?
And bloody England into England gone,
O’erbearing interruption, spite of France?
KING PHILIP
5
What can go well when we have run so ill?
Are we not beaten? Is not Angiers lost?
Arthur ta’en prisoner? Divers dear friends slain?
And bloody England into England gone,
O’erbearing interruption, spite of France?
DAUPHIN
10
What he hath won, that hath he fortified.
So hot a speed, with such advice disposed,
Such temperate order in so fierce a cause,
Doth want example. Who hath read or heard
Of any kindred action like to this?
DAUPHIN
10
What he hath won, that hath he fortified.
So hot a speed, with such advice disposed,
Such temperate order in so fierce a cause,
Doth want example. Who hath read or heard
Of any kindred action like to this?
KING PHILIP
15
Well could I bear that England had this praise,
So we could find some pattern of our shame.
Enter CONSTANCE, with her hair unbound.
Look who comes here! A grave unto a soul,
Holding th’ eternal spirit against her will
In the vile prison of afflicted breath.—
20
I prithee, lady, go away with me.
KING PHILIP
15
Well could I bear that England had this praise,
So we could find some pattern of our shame.
Enter CONSTANCE, with her hair unbound.
Look who comes here! A grave unto a soul,
Holding th’ eternal spirit against her will
In the vile prison of afflicted breath.—
20
I prithee, lady, go away with me.
CONSTANCE
Lo, now, now see the issue of your peace!
CONSTANCE
Lo, now, now see the issue of your peace!
KING PHILIP
Patience, good lady. Comfort, gentle Constance.
KING PHILIP
Patience, good lady. Comfort, gentle Constance.
CONSTANCE
No, I defy all counsel, all redress,
But that which ends all counsel, true redress.
25
Death, death, O amiable, lovely death,             
Thou odoriferous stench, sound rottenness,
Arise forth from the couch of lasting night,
Thou hate and terror to prosperity,
And I will kiss thy detestable bones
30
And put my eyeballs in thy vaulty brows,
And ring these fingers with thy household worms,
And stop this gap of breath with fulsome dust,
And be a carrion monster like thyself.
Come, grin on me, and I will think thou smil’st,
35
And buss thee as thy wife. Misery’s love,
O, come to me!
CONSTANCE
No, I defy all counsel, all redress,
But that which ends all counsel, true redress.
25
Death, death, O amiable, lovely death,             
Thou odoriferous stench, sound rottenness,
Arise forth from the couch of lasting night,
Thou hate and terror to prosperity,
And I will kiss thy detestable bones
30
And put my eyeballs in thy vaulty brows,
And ring these fingers with thy household worms,
And stop this gap of breath with fulsome dust,
And be a carrion monster like thyself.
Come, grin on me, and I will think thou smil’st,
35
And buss thee as thy wife. Misery’s love,
O, come to me!
KING PHILIP
O fair affliction, peace!
KING PHILIP
O fair affliction, peace!
CONSTANCE
No, no, I will not, having breath to cry.
O, that my tongue were in the thunder’s mouth!
40
Then with a passion would I shake the world
And rouse from sleep that fell anatomy
Which cannot hear a lady’s feeble voice,
Which scorns a modern invocation.
CONSTANCE
No, no, I will not, having breath to cry.
O, that my tongue were in the thunder’s mouth!
40
Then with a passion would I shake the world
And rouse from sleep that fell anatomy
Which cannot hear a lady’s feeble voice,
Which scorns a modern invocation.
PANDULPH
Lady, you utter madness and not sorrow.
PANDULPH
Lady, you utter madness and not sorrow.
CONSTANCE
45
Thou art not holy to belie me so.
I am not mad. This hair I tear is mine;
My name is Constance; I was Geoffrey’s wife;
Young Arthur is my son, and he is lost.
I am not mad; I would to heaven I were,
50
For then ’tis like I should forget myself.
O, if I could, what grief should I forget!
Preach some philosophy to make me mad,
And thou shalt be canonized, cardinal.
For, being not mad but sensible of grief,
55
My reasonable part produces reason
How I may be delivered of these woes,
And teaches me to kill or hang myself.
If I were mad, I should forget my son,
Or madly think a babe of clouts were he.
60
I am not mad. Too well, too well I feel
The different plague of each calamity.
CONSTANCE
45
Thou art not holy to belie me so.
I am not mad. This hair I tear is mine;
My name is Constance; I was Geoffrey’s wife;
Young Arthur is my son, and he is lost.
I am not mad; I would to heaven I were,
50
For then ’tis like I should forget myself.
O, if I could, what grief should I forget!
Preach some philosophy to make me mad,
And thou shalt be canonized, cardinal.
For, being not mad but sensible of grief,
55
My reasonable part produces reason
How I may be delivered of these woes,
And teaches me to kill or hang myself.
If I were mad, I should forget my son,
Or madly think a babe of clouts were he.
60
I am not mad. Too well, too well I feel
The different plague of each calamity.
KING PHILIP
Bind up those tresses.—O, what love I note
In the fair multitude of those her hairs;
Where but by chance a silver drop hath fall’n,
65
Even to that drop ten thousand wiry friends
Do glue themselves in sociable grief,
Like true, inseparable, faithful loves,
Sticking together in calamity.
KING PHILIP
Bind up those tresses.—O, what love I note
In the fair multitude of those her hairs;
Where but by chance a silver drop hath fall’n,
65
Even to that drop ten thousand wiry friends
Do glue themselves in sociable grief,
Like true, inseparable, faithful loves,
Sticking together in calamity.
CONSTANCE
To England, if you will.
CONSTANCE
To England, if you will.
KING PHILIP
70
Bind up your hairs.
KING PHILIP
70
Bind up your hairs.
CONSTANCE
Yes, that I will. And wherefore will I do it?
I tore them from their bonds and cried aloud
“O, that these hands could so redeem my son,
As they have given these hairs their liberty!”
75
But now I envy at their liberty,
And will again commit them to their bonds,
Because my poor child is a prisoner.
She binds up her hair.
And father cardinal, I have heard you say
That we shall see and know our friends in heaven.
80
If that be true, I shall see my boy again;
For since the birth of Cain, the first male child,
To him that did but yesterday suspire,
There was not such a gracious creature born.
But now will canker sorrow eat my bud
85
And chase the native beauty from his cheek,
And he will look as hollow as a ghost,
As dim and meager as an ague’s fit,
And so he’ll die; and, rising so again,
When I shall meet him in the court of heaven
90
I shall not know him. Therefore never, never
Must I behold my pretty Arthur more.
CONSTANCE
Yes, that I will. And wherefore will I do it?
I tore them from their bonds and cried aloud
“O, that these hands could so redeem my son,
As they have given these hairs their liberty!”
75
But now I envy at their liberty,
And will again commit them to their bonds,
Because my poor child is a prisoner.
She binds up her hair.
And father cardinal, I have heard you say
That we shall see and know our friends in heaven.
80
If that be true, I shall see my boy again;
For since the birth of Cain, the first male child,
To him that did but yesterday suspire,
There was not such a gracious creature born.
But now will canker sorrow eat my bud
85
And chase the native beauty from his cheek,
And he will look as hollow as a ghost,
As dim and meager as an ague’s fit,
And so he’ll die; and, rising so again,
When I shall meet him in the court of heaven
90
I shall not know him. Therefore never, never
Must I behold my pretty Arthur more.
PANDULPH
You hold too heinous a respect of grief.
PANDULPH
You hold too heinous a respect of grief.
CONSTANCE
He talks to me that never had a son.
CONSTANCE
He talks to me that never had a son.
KING PHILIP
You are as fond of grief as of your child.
KING PHILIP
You are as fond of grief as of your child.
CONSTANCE
95
Grief fills the room up of my absent child,       
Lies in his bed, walks up and down with me,
Puts on his pretty looks, repeats his words,
Remembers me of all his gracious parts,
Stuffs out his vacant garments with his form;
100
Then, have I reason to be fond of grief?
Fare you well. Had you such a loss as I,
I could give better comfort than you do.
She unbinds her hair.
I will not keep this form upon my head
When there is such disorder in my wit.
105
O Lord! My boy, my Arthur, my fair son,
My life, my joy, my food, my all the world,
My widow-comfort and my sorrows’ cure!
CONSTANCE
95
Grief fills the room up of my absent child,       
Lies in his bed, walks up and down with me,
Puts on his pretty looks, repeats his words,
Remembers me of all his gracious parts,
Stuffs out his vacant garments with his form;
100
Then, have I reason to be fond of grief?
Fare you well. Had you such a loss as I,
I could give better comfort than you do.
She unbinds her hair.
I will not keep this form upon my head
When there is such disorder in my wit.
105
O Lord! My boy, my Arthur, my fair son,
My life, my joy, my food, my all the world,
My widow-comfort and my sorrows’ cure!
She exits.
She exits.
KING PHILIP
I fear some outrage, and I’ll follow her.
KING PHILIP
I fear some outrage, and I’ll follow her.
He exits, with Attendants.
He exits, with Attendants.
DAUPHIN
There’s nothing in this world can make me joy.
110
Life is as tedious as a twice-told tale,
Vexing the dull ear of a drowsy man;
And bitter shame hath spoiled the sweet world’s
               taste,
That it yields naught but shame and bitterness.
DAUPHIN
There’s nothing in this world can make me joy.
110
Life is as tedious as a twice-told tale,
Vexing the dull ear of a drowsy man;
And bitter shame hath spoiled the sweet world’s
               taste,
That it yields naught but shame and bitterness.
PANDULPH
115
Before the curing of a strong disease,
Even in the instant of repair and health,
The fit is strongest. Evils that take leave
On their departure most of all show evil.
What have you lost by losing of this day?
PANDULPH
115
Before the curing of a strong disease,
Even in the instant of repair and health,
The fit is strongest. Evils that take leave
On their departure most of all show evil.
What have you lost by losing of this day?
DAUPHIN
120
All days of glory, joy, and happiness.
DAUPHIN
120
All days of glory, joy, and happiness.
PANDULPH
If you had won it, certainly you had.
No, no. When Fortune means to men most good,
She looks upon them with a threat’ning eye.
’Tis strange to think how much King John hath lost
125
In this which he accounts so clearly won.
Are not you grieved that Arthur is his prisoner?
PANDULPH
If you had won it, certainly you had.
No, no. When Fortune means to men most good,
She looks upon them with a threat’ning eye.
’Tis strange to think how much King John hath lost
125
In this which he accounts so clearly won.
Are not you grieved that Arthur is his prisoner?
DAUPHIN
As heartily as he is glad he hath him.
DAUPHIN
As heartily as he is glad he hath him.
PANDULPH
Your mind is all as youthful as your blood.
Now hear me speak with a prophetic spirit.
130
For even the breath of what I mean to speak
Shall blow each dust, each straw, each little rub,
Out of the path which shall directly lead
Thy foot to England’s throne. And therefore mark:
John hath seized Arthur, and it cannot be
135
That, whiles warm life plays in that infant’s veins,
The misplaced John should entertain an hour,
One minute, nay, one quiet breath of rest.
A scepter snatched with an unruly hand
Must be as boisterously maintained as gained.
140
And he that stands upon a slipp’ry place
Makes nice of no vile hold to stay him up.
That John may stand, then Arthur needs must fall.
So be it, for it cannot be but so.
PANDULPH
Your mind is all as youthful as your blood.
Now hear me speak with a prophetic spirit.
130
For even the breath of what I mean to speak
Shall blow each dust, each straw, each little rub,
Out of the path which shall directly lead
Thy foot to England’s throne. And therefore mark:
John hath seized Arthur, and it cannot be
135
That, whiles warm life plays in that infant’s veins,
The misplaced John should entertain an hour,
One minute, nay, one quiet breath of rest.
A scepter snatched with an unruly hand
Must be as boisterously maintained as gained.
140
And he that stands upon a slipp’ry place
Makes nice of no vile hold to stay him up.
That John may stand, then Arthur needs must fall.
So be it, for it cannot be but so.
DAUPHIN
But what shall I gain by young Arthur’s fall?
DAUPHIN
But what shall I gain by young Arthur’s fall?
PANDULPH
145
You, in the right of Lady Blanche your wife,
May then make all the claim that Arthur did.
PANDULPH
145
You, in the right of Lady Blanche your wife,
May then make all the claim that Arthur did.
DAUPHIN
And lose it, life and all, as Arthur did.
DAUPHIN
And lose it, life and all, as Arthur did.
PANDULPH
How green you are and fresh in this old world!
John lays you plots. The times conspire with you,
150
For he that steeps his safety in true blood
Shall find but bloody safety, and untrue.
This act so evilly borne shall cool the hearts
Of all his people and freeze up their zeal,
That none so small advantage shall step forth
155
To check his reign but they will cherish it.
No natural exhalation in the sky,
No scope of nature, no distempered day,
No common wind, no customèd event,
But they will pluck away his natural cause
160
And call them meteors, prodigies, and signs,
Abortives, presages, and tongues of heaven,
Plainly denouncing vengeance upon John.
PANDULPH
How green you are and fresh in this old world!
John lays you plots. The times conspire with you,
150
For he that steeps his safety in true blood
Shall find but bloody safety, and untrue.
This act so evilly borne shall cool the hearts
Of all his people and freeze up their zeal,
That none so small advantage shall step forth
155
To check his reign but they will cherish it.
No natural exhalation in the sky,
No scope of nature, no distempered day,
No common wind, no customèd event,
But they will pluck away his natural cause
160
And call them meteors, prodigies, and signs,
Abortives, presages, and tongues of heaven,
Plainly denouncing vengeance upon John.
DAUPHIN
Maybe he will not touch young Arthur’s life,
But hold himself safe in his prisonment.
DAUPHIN
Maybe he will not touch young Arthur’s life,
But hold himself safe in his prisonment.
PANDULPH
165
O, sir, when he shall hear of your approach,
If that young Arthur be not gone already,
Even at that news he dies; and then the hearts
Of all his people shall revolt from him
And kiss the lips of unacquainted change,
170
And pick strong matter of revolt and wrath
Out of the bloody fingers’ ends of John.
Methinks I see this hurly all on foot;
And, O, what better matter breeds for you
Than I have named! The bastard Faulconbridge
175
Is now in England ransacking the Church,
Offending charity. If but a dozen French
Were there in arms, they would be as a call
To train ten thousand English to their side,
Or as a little snow, tumbled about,
180
Anon becomes a mountain. O noble dauphin,
Go with me to the King. ’Tis wonderful
What may be wrought out of their discontent,
Now that their souls are topful of offense.
For England, go. I will whet on the King.
PANDULPH
165
O, sir, when he shall hear of your approach,
If that young Arthur be not gone already,
Even at that news he dies; and then the hearts
Of all his people shall revolt from him
And kiss the lips of unacquainted change,
170
And pick strong matter of revolt and wrath
Out of the bloody fingers’ ends of John.
Methinks I see this hurly all on foot;
And, O, what better matter breeds for you
Than I have named! The bastard Faulconbridge
175
Is now in England ransacking the Church,
Offending charity. If but a dozen French
Were there in arms, they would be as a call
To train ten thousand English to their side,
Or as a little snow, tumbled about,
180
Anon becomes a mountain. O noble dauphin,
Go with me to the King. ’Tis wonderful
What may be wrought out of their discontent,
Now that their souls are topful of offense.
For England, go. I will whet on the King.
DAUPHIN
185
Strong reasons makes strange actions. Let us go.
If you say ay, the King will not say no.
DAUPHIN
185
Strong reasons makes strange actions. Let us go.
If you say ay, the King will not say no.
They exit.
They exit.

Original Text

Modern Text
Enter KING PHILIP OF FRANCE, LOUIS THE DAUPHIN, PANDULPH, Attendants.
Enter KING PHILIP OF FRANCE, LOUIS THE DAUPHIN, PANDULPH, Attendants.
KING PHILIP
So, by a roaring tempest on the flood,
A whole armada of convicted sail
Is scattered and disjoined from fellowship.
KING PHILIP
So, by a roaring tempest on the flood,
A whole armada of convicted sail
Is scattered and disjoined from fellowship.
PANDULPH
Courage and comfort. All shall yet go well.
PANDULPH
Courage and comfort. All shall yet go well.
KING PHILIP
5
What can go well when we have run so ill?
Are we not beaten? Is not Angiers lost?
Arthur ta’en prisoner? Divers dear friends slain?
And bloody England into England gone,
O’erbearing interruption, spite of France?
KING PHILIP
5
What can go well when we have run so ill?
Are we not beaten? Is not Angiers lost?
Arthur ta’en prisoner? Divers dear friends slain?
And bloody England into England gone,
O’erbearing interruption, spite of France?
DAUPHIN
10
What he hath won, that hath he fortified.
So hot a speed, with such advice disposed,
Such temperate order in so fierce a cause,
Doth want example. Who hath read or heard
Of any kindred action like to this?
DAUPHIN
10
What he hath won, that hath he fortified.
So hot a speed, with such advice disposed,
Such temperate order in so fierce a cause,
Doth want example. Who hath read or heard
Of any kindred action like to this?
KING PHILIP
15
Well could I bear that England had this praise,
So we could find some pattern of our shame.
Enter CONSTANCE, with her hair unbound.
Look who comes here! A grave unto a soul,
Holding th’ eternal spirit against her will
In the vile prison of afflicted breath.—
20
I prithee, lady, go away with me.
KING PHILIP
15
Well could I bear that England had this praise,
So we could find some pattern of our shame.
Enter CONSTANCE, with her hair unbound.
Look who comes here! A grave unto a soul,
Holding th’ eternal spirit against her will
In the vile prison of afflicted breath.—
20
I prithee, lady, go away with me.
CONSTANCE
Lo, now, now see the issue of your peace!
CONSTANCE
Lo, now, now see the issue of your peace!
KING PHILIP
Patience, good lady. Comfort, gentle Constance.
KING PHILIP
Patience, good lady. Comfort, gentle Constance.
CONSTANCE
No, I defy all counsel, all redress,
But that which ends all counsel, true redress.
25
Death, death, O amiable, lovely death,             
Thou odoriferous stench, sound rottenness,
Arise forth from the couch of lasting night,
Thou hate and terror to prosperity,
And I will kiss thy detestable bones
30
And put my eyeballs in thy vaulty brows,
And ring these fingers with thy household worms,
And stop this gap of breath with fulsome dust,
And be a carrion monster like thyself.
Come, grin on me, and I will think thou smil’st,
35
And buss thee as thy wife. Misery’s love,
O, come to me!
CONSTANCE
No, I defy all counsel, all redress,
But that which ends all counsel, true redress.
25
Death, death, O amiable, lovely death,             
Thou odoriferous stench, sound rottenness,
Arise forth from the couch of lasting night,
Thou hate and terror to prosperity,
And I will kiss thy detestable bones
30
And put my eyeballs in thy vaulty brows,
And ring these fingers with thy household worms,
And stop this gap of breath with fulsome dust,
And be a carrion monster like thyself.
Come, grin on me, and I will think thou smil’st,
35
And buss thee as thy wife. Misery’s love,
O, come to me!
KING PHILIP
O fair affliction, peace!
KING PHILIP
O fair affliction, peace!
CONSTANCE
No, no, I will not, having breath to cry.
O, that my tongue were in the thunder’s mouth!
40
Then with a passion would I shake the world
And rouse from sleep that fell anatomy
Which cannot hear a lady’s feeble voice,
Which scorns a modern invocation.
CONSTANCE
No, no, I will not, having breath to cry.
O, that my tongue were in the thunder’s mouth!
40
Then with a passion would I shake the world
And rouse from sleep that fell anatomy
Which cannot hear a lady’s feeble voice,
Which scorns a modern invocation.
PANDULPH
Lady, you utter madness and not sorrow.
PANDULPH
Lady, you utter madness and not sorrow.
CONSTANCE
45
Thou art not holy to belie me so.
I am not mad. This hair I tear is mine;
My name is Constance; I was Geoffrey’s wife;
Young Arthur is my son, and he is lost.
I am not mad; I would to heaven I were,
50
For then ’tis like I should forget myself.
O, if I could, what grief should I forget!
Preach some philosophy to make me mad,
And thou shalt be canonized, cardinal.
For, being not mad but sensible of grief,
55
My reasonable part produces reason
How I may be delivered of these woes,
And teaches me to kill or hang myself.
If I were mad, I should forget my son,
Or madly think a babe of clouts were he.
60
I am not mad. Too well, too well I feel
The different plague of each calamity.
CONSTANCE
45
Thou art not holy to belie me so.
I am not mad. This hair I tear is mine;
My name is Constance; I was Geoffrey’s wife;
Young Arthur is my son, and he is lost.
I am not mad; I would to heaven I were,
50
For then ’tis like I should forget myself.
O, if I could, what grief should I forget!
Preach some philosophy to make me mad,
And thou shalt be canonized, cardinal.
For, being not mad but sensible of grief,
55
My reasonable part produces reason
How I may be delivered of these woes,
And teaches me to kill or hang myself.
If I were mad, I should forget my son,
Or madly think a babe of clouts were he.
60
I am not mad. Too well, too well I feel
The different plague of each calamity.
KING PHILIP
Bind up those tresses.—O, what love I note
In the fair multitude of those her hairs;
Where but by chance a silver drop hath fall’n,
65
Even to that drop ten thousand wiry friends
Do glue themselves in sociable grief,
Like true, inseparable, faithful loves,
Sticking together in calamity.
KING PHILIP
Bind up those tresses.—O, what love I note
In the fair multitude of those her hairs;
Where but by chance a silver drop hath fall’n,
65
Even to that drop ten thousand wiry friends
Do glue themselves in sociable grief,
Like true, inseparable, faithful loves,
Sticking together in calamity.
CONSTANCE
To England, if you will.
CONSTANCE
To England, if you will.
KING PHILIP
70
Bind up your hairs.
KING PHILIP
70
Bind up your hairs.
CONSTANCE
Yes, that I will. And wherefore will I do it?
I tore them from their bonds and cried aloud
“O, that these hands could so redeem my son,
As they have given these hairs their liberty!”
75
But now I envy at their liberty,
And will again commit them to their bonds,
Because my poor child is a prisoner.
She binds up her hair.
And father cardinal, I have heard you say
That we shall see and know our friends in heaven.
80
If that be true, I shall see my boy again;
For since the birth of Cain, the first male child,
To him that did but yesterday suspire,
There was not such a gracious creature born.
But now will canker sorrow eat my bud
85
And chase the native beauty from his cheek,
And he will look as hollow as a ghost,
As dim and meager as an ague’s fit,
And so he’ll die; and, rising so again,
When I shall meet him in the court of heaven
90
I shall not know him. Therefore never, never
Must I behold my pretty Arthur more.
CONSTANCE
Yes, that I will. And wherefore will I do it?
I tore them from their bonds and cried aloud
“O, that these hands could so redeem my son,
As they have given these hairs their liberty!”
75
But now I envy at their liberty,
And will again commit them to their bonds,
Because my poor child is a prisoner.
She binds up her hair.
And father cardinal, I have heard you say
That we shall see and know our friends in heaven.
80
If that be true, I shall see my boy again;
For since the birth of Cain, the first male child,
To him that did but yesterday suspire,
There was not such a gracious creature born.
But now will canker sorrow eat my bud
85
And chase the native beauty from his cheek,
And he will look as hollow as a ghost,
As dim and meager as an ague’s fit,
And so he’ll die; and, rising so again,
When I shall meet him in the court of heaven
90
I shall not know him. Therefore never, never
Must I behold my pretty Arthur more.
PANDULPH
You hold too heinous a respect of grief.
PANDULPH
You hold too heinous a respect of grief.
CONSTANCE
He talks to me that never had a son.
CONSTANCE
He talks to me that never had a son.
KING PHILIP
You are as fond of grief as of your child.
KING PHILIP
You are as fond of grief as of your child.
CONSTANCE
95
Grief fills the room up of my absent child,       
Lies in his bed, walks up and down with me,
Puts on his pretty looks, repeats his words,
Remembers me of all his gracious parts,
Stuffs out his vacant garments with his form;
100
Then, have I reason to be fond of grief?
Fare you well. Had you such a loss as I,
I could give better comfort than you do.
She unbinds her hair.
I will not keep this form upon my head
When there is such disorder in my wit.
105
O Lord! My boy, my Arthur, my fair son,
My life, my joy, my food, my all the world,
My widow-comfort and my sorrows’ cure!
CONSTANCE
95
Grief fills the room up of my absent child,       
Lies in his bed, walks up and down with me,
Puts on his pretty looks, repeats his words,
Remembers me of all his gracious parts,
Stuffs out his vacant garments with his form;
100
Then, have I reason to be fond of grief?
Fare you well. Had you such a loss as I,
I could give better comfort than you do.
She unbinds her hair.
I will not keep this form upon my head
When there is such disorder in my wit.
105
O Lord! My boy, my Arthur, my fair son,
My life, my joy, my food, my all the world,
My widow-comfort and my sorrows’ cure!
She exits.
She exits.
KING PHILIP
I fear some outrage, and I’ll follow her.
KING PHILIP
I fear some outrage, and I’ll follow her.
He exits, with Attendants.
He exits, with Attendants.
DAUPHIN
There’s nothing in this world can make me joy.
110
Life is as tedious as a twice-told tale,
Vexing the dull ear of a drowsy man;
And bitter shame hath spoiled the sweet world’s
               taste,
That it yields naught but shame and bitterness.
DAUPHIN
There’s nothing in this world can make me joy.
110
Life is as tedious as a twice-told tale,
Vexing the dull ear of a drowsy man;
And bitter shame hath spoiled the sweet world’s
               taste,
That it yields naught but shame and bitterness.
PANDULPH
115
Before the curing of a strong disease,
Even in the instant of repair and health,
The fit is strongest. Evils that take leave
On their departure most of all show evil.
What have you lost by losing of this day?
PANDULPH
115
Before the curing of a strong disease,
Even in the instant of repair and health,
The fit is strongest. Evils that take leave
On their departure most of all show evil.
What have you lost by losing of this day?
DAUPHIN
120
All days of glory, joy, and happiness.
DAUPHIN
120
All days of glory, joy, and happiness.
PANDULPH
If you had won it, certainly you had.
No, no. When Fortune means to men most good,
She looks upon them with a threat’ning eye.
’Tis strange to think how much King John hath lost
125
In this which he accounts so clearly won.
Are not you grieved that Arthur is his prisoner?
PANDULPH
If you had won it, certainly you had.
No, no. When Fortune means to men most good,
She looks upon them with a threat’ning eye.
’Tis strange to think how much King John hath lost
125
In this which he accounts so clearly won.
Are not you grieved that Arthur is his prisoner?
DAUPHIN
As heartily as he is glad he hath him.
DAUPHIN
As heartily as he is glad he hath him.
PANDULPH
Your mind is all as youthful as your blood.
Now hear me speak with a prophetic spirit.
130
For even the breath of what I mean to speak
Shall blow each dust, each straw, each little rub,
Out of the path which shall directly lead
Thy foot to England’s throne. And therefore mark:
John hath seized Arthur, and it cannot be
135
That, whiles warm life plays in that infant’s veins,
The misplaced John should entertain an hour,
One minute, nay, one quiet breath of rest.
A scepter snatched with an unruly hand
Must be as boisterously maintained as gained.
140
And he that stands upon a slipp’ry place
Makes nice of no vile hold to stay him up.
That John may stand, then Arthur needs must fall.
So be it, for it cannot be but so.
PANDULPH
Your mind is all as youthful as your blood.
Now hear me speak with a prophetic spirit.
130
For even the breath of what I mean to speak
Shall blow each dust, each straw, each little rub,
Out of the path which shall directly lead
Thy foot to England’s throne. And therefore mark:
John hath seized Arthur, and it cannot be
135
That, whiles warm life plays in that infant’s veins,
The misplaced John should entertain an hour,
One minute, nay, one quiet breath of rest.
A scepter snatched with an unruly hand
Must be as boisterously maintained as gained.
140
And he that stands upon a slipp’ry place
Makes nice of no vile hold to stay him up.
That John may stand, then Arthur needs must fall.
So be it, for it cannot be but so.
DAUPHIN
But what shall I gain by young Arthur’s fall?
DAUPHIN
But what shall I gain by young Arthur’s fall?
PANDULPH
145
You, in the right of Lady Blanche your wife,
May then make all the claim that Arthur did.
PANDULPH
145
You, in the right of Lady Blanche your wife,
May then make all the claim that Arthur did.
DAUPHIN
And lose it, life and all, as Arthur did.
DAUPHIN
And lose it, life and all, as Arthur did.
PANDULPH
How green you are and fresh in this old world!
John lays you plots. The times conspire with you,
150
For he that steeps his safety in true blood
Shall find but bloody safety, and untrue.
This act so evilly borne shall cool the hearts
Of all his people and freeze up their zeal,
That none so small advantage shall step forth
155
To check his reign but they will cherish it.
No natural exhalation in the sky,
No scope of nature, no distempered day,
No common wind, no customèd event,
But they will pluck away his natural cause
160
And call them meteors, prodigies, and signs,
Abortives, presages, and tongues of heaven,
Plainly denouncing vengeance upon John.
PANDULPH
How green you are and fresh in this old world!
John lays you plots. The times conspire with you,
150
For he that steeps his safety in true blood
Shall find but bloody safety, and untrue.
This act so evilly borne shall cool the hearts
Of all his people and freeze up their zeal,
That none so small advantage shall step forth
155
To check his reign but they will cherish it.
No natural exhalation in the sky,
No scope of nature, no distempered day,
No common wind, no customèd event,
But they will pluck away his natural cause
160
And call them meteors, prodigies, and signs,
Abortives, presages, and tongues of heaven,
Plainly denouncing vengeance upon John.
DAUPHIN
Maybe he will not touch young Arthur’s life,
But hold himself safe in his prisonment.
DAUPHIN
Maybe he will not touch young Arthur’s life,
But hold himself safe in his prisonment.
PANDULPH
165
O, sir, when he shall hear of your approach,
If that young Arthur be not gone already,
Even at that news he dies; and then the hearts
Of all his people shall revolt from him
And kiss the lips of unacquainted change,
170
And pick strong matter of revolt and wrath
Out of the bloody fingers’ ends of John.
Methinks I see this hurly all on foot;
And, O, what better matter breeds for you
Than I have named! The bastard Faulconbridge
175
Is now in England ransacking the Church,
Offending charity. If but a dozen French
Were there in arms, they would be as a call
To train ten thousand English to their side,
Or as a little snow, tumbled about,
180
Anon becomes a mountain. O noble dauphin,
Go with me to the King. ’Tis wonderful
What may be wrought out of their discontent,
Now that their souls are topful of offense.
For England, go. I will whet on the King.
PANDULPH
165
O, sir, when he shall hear of your approach,
If that young Arthur be not gone already,
Even at that news he dies; and then the hearts
Of all his people shall revolt from him
And kiss the lips of unacquainted change,
170
And pick strong matter of revolt and wrath
Out of the bloody fingers’ ends of John.
Methinks I see this hurly all on foot;
And, O, what better matter breeds for you
Than I have named! The bastard Faulconbridge
175
Is now in England ransacking the Church,
Offending charity. If but a dozen French
Were there in arms, they would be as a call
To train ten thousand English to their side,
Or as a little snow, tumbled about,
180
Anon becomes a mountain. O noble dauphin,
Go with me to the King. ’Tis wonderful
What may be wrought out of their discontent,
Now that their souls are topful of offense.
For England, go. I will whet on the King.
DAUPHIN
185
Strong reasons makes strange actions. Let us go.
If you say ay, the King will not say no.
DAUPHIN
185
Strong reasons makes strange actions. Let us go.
If you say ay, the King will not say no.
They exit.
They exit.
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