Summary

At the French camp, Constance and Arthur receive news from Salisbury. Constance can’t believe that Philip has broken his ties to her. When Blanche and Louis are married, Louis will gain the territories Arthur should have held. She curses Salisbury, while Arthur tries to soothe her. She tells Arthur she wishes he had been malformed at birth, for then she would not love him or think that he deserves a crown. Instead, Arthur is blessed by nature, if not by fortune. Constance’s grief is so great that she says nothing can support it but the earth, where she sits.

King John enters holding the hand of King Philip. Louis and Blanche follow, then Eleanor, the Bastard, and Austria. Philip announces that the day of the wedding will become the occasion for an annual festival. Constance undermines Philip’s celebratory mood, cursing the unfortunate day when he joined his family with John instead of Arthur. Philip tries to calm her, but she accuses him of having treated her falsely; he swore to join her in defeating John’s army, but now he has allied himself with John. Austria tries to soothe her as well, but she also curses him for going over to the other side.

Cardinal Pandolf arrives to speak to John on behalf of the pope. He demands to know why John has barred the pope’s chosen nominee from becoming the archbishop of Canterbury. John replies that no Italian priest will tell him what to do in his kingdom, for he has the divine right to rule as he sees fit. Philip warns him against defying the cardinal, but John rails against the meddling and corrupt powers of the Catholic Church. Pandolf announces that he will excommunicate John and celebrate any who go against the English king.

Constance is delighted and asks Pandolf to support her curses against John. Pandolf says his curses, unlike hers, are lawful; but she declares that if the law can’t give her child the throne because John controls the law, then the law is inadequate and cannot stop her from cursing John. Pandolf calls for Philip to let go of John’s hand and set the French forces against the English. Constance, Eleanor, the Bastard, and Austria all urge Philip with conflicting suggestions. Louis says that it is worse to break with Rome than to lose a friend in England. Philip remains silent throughout the discussion, revealing only that he is perplexed.

Pandolf threatens to excommunicate Philip as well, but Philip asks Pandolf to consider the matter from his perspective. Why should he destroy the new peace he’s just forged with England? He asks Pandolf to suggest an alternative. Pandolf urges him again to be the Church’s champion and break with England. Philip says he will let go of John’s hand, but he won’t forgo his faith in their bond. Pandolf sets Philip’s faith in John against his faith in the Church. It is not immoral, he says, to break an immoral oath with England. He reminds Philip that his primary oath was to the Church and asks him to honor his earlier oath by forswearing his allegiance to John.

Blanche cries out against Pandolf, insisting that her wedding day mustn’t be marred by slaughter. She begs her new husband not to go to battle against her uncle John. Constance begs Louis to go ahead with the destruction of England, now apparently called for by the powers of fate. Philip remains silent, so Pandolf announces that he will curse him. But Philip finally relents, and he drops John’s hand. John and his party assure Philip that he will regret his decision, while Blanche mournfully wonders whom she should side with, being now tied to both sides of the new conflict. Philip and John threaten each other and depart to prepare for battle.

Analysis

The opening scene of act 3 brings additional complication to the play’s ongoing examination of the complexity of maternal love. As Constance learns from Salisbury of King Philip’s decision to forge an alliance with King John, she allows her violent grief to take over. In a series of pained speeches, she inveighs against Salisbury, metaphorically “shooting the messenger.” She also laments her love for her son, since the intensity of her affection is what now causes her intense suffering. Though Arthur hardly speaks in this scene, the audience can’t help but feel sorry for this young man who is essentially being tormented by his mother’s grief. Furthermore, her grief may only apparently be on his behalf, since it seems that her investment in Arthur’s coronation is also personal: she covets the power that will come with his rise. In this way, maternal love is troublingly close to self-interest.

This scene also introduces an additional key player in the action: the Catholic Church. Curiously, the presence of the Church is also explicitly likened to the presence of a mother. When Pandolf makes his case to King Philip, he repeatedly emphasizes the notion of the Church as a symbolic “mother,” presided over by its symbolic “father,” the pope. Thus, he pleads with King Philip to heed the wishes of his religious mother: “Be champion of our church, / Or let the church, our mother, breathe her curse, / A mother’s curse, on her revolting son” (3.1.255–57). Perhaps recognizing the maternal power invoked by Pandolf, Constance readily aligns herself with the cardinal’s words. It’s important to note here that the conflict between English royalty and Rome was an extremely charged issue during Shakespeare’s day, since it hadn’t been that long since Henry VIII—Queen Elizabeth’s father—had broken with the pope and formed the Protestant Anglican Church. Thus, including this religious conflict in King John offered Shakespeare the opportunity to comment on the conflict; anyone in an Elizabethan audience would feel how John’s plight was applicable to their own age.

As both literal and figurative mothers show their capacity to sway the decisions of kings, Blanche attempts to assert her own influence. However, as a young woman who has only recently become a wife, she lacks the dramatic gravitas of divas like Constance and Eleanor. Though she speaks out forcefully in this scene, giving voice to the impossibility of her situation, her pathos doesn’t seem to land with anyone but, perhaps, the audience. Indeed, her sense of doom is palpable as she begs her new husband not to enter a war with her uncle. “Which is the side that I must go withal?” she asks: “I am with both. Each army hath a hand, / And in their rage, I having hold of both, / They whirl asunder and dismember me” (3.1.327–30). Her language of dismemberment is potent and foreshadows the bloody violence that, at this point, seems sure to come. This speech also marks a symbolic death of sorts, since Blanche will never again appear onstage after this scene. Thus, the stakes of the political—and religious—conflicts at play are serious and grim.