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And this same bias, this commodity,
This bawd, this broker, this all-changing word,
Clapped on the outward eye of fickle France,
Hath drawn him from his own determined aid,
From a resolved and honorable war
To a most base and vile-concluded peace. (2.1.581–86)
These lines come from the Bastard’s famous soliloquy on “commodity,” which in this context refers to self-interest. The Bastard’s speech emerges from his shock and dismay at learning that the nobility doesn’t act according to the traditional ideal of honor. Instead, as he learns when King John makes a surprise alliance with King Philip, nobles make their decisions based primarily on their own self-interest. One significant implication of this realization is that there is no internal logic to the unfolding of history. Whereas the Bastard had previously assumed that certain chivalric virtues guided those in power, he has just witnessed “a resolved and honorable war” inexplicably transform into “a most base and vile-concluded peace.” There is no reason for this transformation other than the “fickle” ambitions of people born into positions of influence.
Cousin, away for England! Haste before,
And ere our coining see thou shake the bags
Of hoarding abbots; imprisoned angels
Set at liberty. The fat ribs of peace
Must by the hungry now be fed upon.
Use our commission in his utmost force. (3.3.6–11)
King John has just found himself on the eve of a war with France, and he needs money to pay for it. With these lines, then, he dispatches the Bastard to rush back to England and ransack the coffers of the monasteries there. Though presented in an almost offhand way here, this order will have fatal consequences for the king later in the play, when a vengeful monk assassinates him with poison. The very fact that Shakespeare subordinates this plot serves to indicate the play’s theme related to the haphazard unfolding of history. Although there is a clear relationship of cause and effect in this case, John’s offhand order and his death much later are not organized in a way that would suggest some larger coherence.
Is this Ascension Day? Did not the prophet
Say that before Ascension Day at noon
My crown I should give off? Even so I have.
I did suppose it should be on constraint,
But, heaven be thanked, it is but voluntary. (5.1.25–29)
Back in act 4, scene 2, the Bastard arrested a man named Peter who had been preaching in Pomfret, prophesying that King John would “deliver up [his] crown” (4.2.152) before noon on the next Ascension Day. As it turns out, Peter was correct—just not in the way the king thought. Instead of being an act of abdication, John has given up his crown merely as a symbolic gesture, so that Pandolf could immediately recrown him on behalf of the pope. Literary prophecies often work through similarly ambiguous means, seeming to promise one outcome but then coming to pass in an unexpected way. What’s curious about this example, though, is that King John never took Peter’s prophecy to heart, so his words here seem to express mild delight rather than relief. Thus, while he briefly enjoys a sense that fate has a certain coherence, John doesn’t place any serious faith in that coherence. Nor should he, since this moment of good fortune doesn’t last: his death is, inexplicably, right around the corner.
