Where but by chance a silver drop64 hath fallen,
Even to that drop ten thousand wiry friends65
Do glue themselves in sociable66 grief,
Like true, inseparable, faithful loves,
Sticking together in calamity.
CONSTANCE To England, if you will69.
KING PHILIP Bind up your hairs.
CONSTANCE Yes, that I will: and wherefore71 will I do it?
I tore them from their bonds and cried aloud
'O, that these hands could so redeem73 my son,
As they have given these hairs their liberty!'
But now I envy at75 their liberty,
And will again commit them to their bonds,
She binds up her hair
Because my poor child is a prisoner.
And, Father Cardinal, I have heard you say
That we shall see and know79 our friends in heaven:
If that be true, I shall see my boy again;
For since the birth of Cain81, the first male child,
To him that did but yesterday suspire82,
There was not such a gracious83 creature born:
But now will canker-sorrow eat my bud84
And chase the native85 beauty from his cheek,
And he will look as hollow as a ghost,
As dim and meagre as an ague's fit87,
And so he'll die: and rising88 so again,
When I shall meet him in the court of heaven
I shall not know90 him: therefore never, never
Must I behold my pretty Arthur more.
CARDINAL PANDULPH You hold too heinous a respect92 of grief.
CONSTANCE He talks to me that never had a son.
KING PHILIP You are as fond of94 grief as of your child.
CONSTANCE Grief fills the room95 up of my absent child:
Lies in his bed, walks up and down with me,
Puts on his pretty looks, repeats his words,
Remembers98 me of all his gracious parts,
Stuffs out his vacant garments with his form;
Then have I reason to be fond of grief?
Fare you well: had you such a loss as I,
She unbinds her hair
I could give better comfort than you do.
I will not keep this form103 upon my head,
When there is such disorder in my wit:
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!
Exit
KING PHILIP I fear some outrage108, and I'll follow her.
Exit
LEWIS There's nothing in this world can make me joy109:
Life is as tedious as a twice-told tale,
Vexing the dull111 ear of a drowsy man;
And bitter shame hath spoiled the sweet word's112 taste
That113 it yields nought but shame and bitterness.
CARDINAL PANDULPH Before the curing of a strong disease,
Even in the instant of repair115 and health,
The fit116 is strongest: evils that take leave,
On their departure most of all show evil:
What have you lost by losing of this day118?
LEWIS All days of glory, joy and happiness.
CARDINAL PANDULPH If you had120 won it, certainly you had.
No, no: when Fortune means121 to men most good,
She looks upon them with a threat'ning eye:
'Tis strange to think how much King John hath lost
In this which he accounts124 so clearly won:
Are not you grieved that Arthur is his prisoner?
LEWIS As heartily as he is glad he hath him.
CARDINAL PANDULPH Your mind is all as youthful as your blood.
Now hear me speak with a prophetic spirit:
For even the breath of what I mean to speak
Shall blow each dust, each straw, each little rub130,
Out of the path which shall directly lead
Thy foot to England's throne. And therefore mark132:
John hath seized Arthur, and it cannot be
That whiles warm life plays in that infant's134 veins,
The misplaced John should entertain135 an hour,
One minute, nay, one quiet breath of rest.
A sceptre snatched with an unruly hand
Must be as boisterously138 maintained as gained:
And he that stands upon a slipp'ry place
Makes nice of no vile hold to stay140 him up:
That141 John may stand, then Arthur needs must fall:
So be it, for it cannot be but so.
LEWIS But what shall I gain by young Arthur's fall?
CARDINAL PANDULPH You, in the right of Lady Blanche your wife,
May then make all the claim that Arthur did.
LEWIS And lose it, life and all, as Arthur did.
CARDINAL PANDULPH How green147 you are, and fresh in this old world!
John lays you plots148: the times conspire with you:
For he that steeps his safety in true149 blood
Shall find but bloody safety and untrue150.
This act, so evilly born, shall cool the hearts
Of all his people and freeze up their zeal152,
That none so small advantage153 shall step forth
To check his reign154, but they will cherish it:
No natural exhalation155 in the sky,
No scope of nature, no distempered156 day,
No common wind, no customed157 event,
But they will pluck away his natural cause158
And call them meteors, prodigies159, and signs,
Abortives, presages160, and tongues of heaven,
Plainly denouncing161 vengeance upon John.
LEWIS Maybe he will not touch young Arthur's life,
But hold himself safe in his prisonment163.
CARDINAL PANDULPH O sir, when he shall hear of your approach164,
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 unacquainted168 change,
And pick strong matter of169 revolt and wrath
Out of the bloody fingers' ends of John170.
Methinks I see this hurly all on foot171:
And O, what better matter breeds172 for you
Than I have named! The Bastard Falconbridge
Is now in England, ransacking the Church,
Offending charity: if but a dozen French
Were there in arms, they would be as a call176
To train177 ten thousand English to their side,
Or, as a little snow, tumbled about,
Anon179 becomes a mountain. O noble dauphin,
Go with me to the king: 'tis wonderful
What may be wrought181 out of their discontent,
Now that their souls are top-full of offence182.
For England go: I will whet on183 the king.
LEWIS Strong reasons make strange actions184: let us go:
If you say ay185, the king will not say no.
Exeunt
Act 4 Scene 1
running scene 6
Enter Hubert and Executioners
With a rope and irons
HUBERT Heat me these irons hot, and look1 thou stand
Within the arras2: when I strike my foot
Upon the bosom of the ground, rush forth
And bind the boy which you shall find with me
Fast to the chair: be heedful5: hence, and watch.
FIRST EXECUTIONER I hope your warrant will bear out6 the deed.
The Executioners withdraw behind the arras
HUBERT Uncleanly scruples7: Fear not you: look to't.
Young lad, come forth; I have to say with8 you.
Enter Arthur
ARTHUR Good morrow, Hubert.
HUBERT Good morrow, little10 prince.
&nb
sp; ARTHUR As little prince, having so great a title11
To be more prince, as may be. You are sad12.
HUBERT Indeed, I have been merrier.
ARTHUR 'Mercy14 on me!
Methinks nobody should be sad but I:
Yet, I remember, when I was in France,
Young gentlemen would be as sad17 as night
Only for wantonness: by my christendom18,
So19 I were out of prison and kept sheep,
I should be as merry as the day is long:
And so I would be here, but that I doubt21
My uncle practises22 more harm to me:
He is afraid of me, and I of him:
Is it my fault that I was Geoffrey's son?
No, indeed, is't not: and I would25 to heaven
I were your son, so26 you would love me, Hubert.
Aside
HUBERT If I talk to him, with his innocent prate27
He will awake my mercy which lies dead:
Therefore I will be sudden and dispatch29.
ARTHUR Are you sick, Hubert? You look pale today:
In sooth31, I would you were a little sick,
That I might sit all night and watch32 with you.
I warrant33 I love you more than you do me.
Aside
HUBERT His words do take possession of my bosom.--
Showing a paper/Aside
Read here, young Arthur.-- How now, foolish rheum35!
Turning dispiteous torture out of door36?
I must be brief, lest resolution37 drop
Out at mine eyes in tender womanish tears.
Can you not read it? Is it not fair writ39?
ARTHUR Too fairly, Hubert, for so foul effect40:
Must you with hot irons burn out both mine eyes?
HUBERT Young boy, I must.
ARTHUR And will you?
HUBERT And I will.
ARTHUR Have you the heart? When your head did but ache,
I knit my handkercher46 about your brows,
The best I had, a princess wrought it47 me,
And I did never ask it you48 again:
And with my hand at midnight held your head,
And like the watchful50 minutes to the hour,
Still and anon cheered up the heavy51 time,
Saying 'What lack you?' and 'Where lies your grief52?'
Or 'What good love53 may I perform for you?'
Many a poor man's son would have lien54 still
And ne'er have spoke a loving word to you:
But you at your sick service56 had a prince:
Nay, you may think my love was crafty57 love,
And call it cunning. Do, an if58 you will.
If heaven be pleased that you must use me ill59,
Why then you must. Will you put out mine eyes?
These eyes that never did, nor never shall,
So much as frown on you.
HUBERT I have sworn to do it:
And with hot irons must I burn them out.
ARTHUR Ah, none but in this iron age65 would do it:
The iron of itself, though heat66 red-hot,
Approaching near these eyes, would drink my tears
And quench this68 fiery indignation,
Even in the matter69 of mine innocence:
Nay, after that, consume away in rust
But for containing71 fire to harm mine eye:
Are you more stubborn-hard than hammered iron?
And if an angel should have73 come to me
And told me Hubert should put out mine eyes,
I would not have believed him: no tongue but Hubert's.
HUBERT Come forth.
Stamps; Executioners come forward
Do as I bid you do.
ARTHUR O, save me, Hubert, save me! My eyes are out78
Even with the fierce looks of these bloody men.
HUBERT Give me the iron, I say, and bind him here.
ARTHUR Alas, what need you be so boist'rous-rough?
I will not struggle: I will stand stone-still:
For heaven sake, Hubert, let me not be bound:
Nay, hear me, Hubert, drive these men away,
And I will sit as quiet as a lamb:
I will not stir, nor winch86, nor speak a word,
Nor look upon the iron angerly87:
Thrust but these men away, and I'll forgive you,
Whatever torment you do put me to.
HUBERT Go, stand within: let me alone with him.
FIRST EXECUTIONER I am best pleased to be from91 such a deed.
[Exeunt Executioners]
ARTHUR Alas, I then have chid92 away my friend!
He hath a stern look, but a gentle heart:
Let him come back, that his compassion may
Give life to yours.
HUBERT Come, boy, prepare yourself.
ARTHUR Is there no remedy97?
HUBERT None, but to lose your eyes.
ARTHUR O heaven, that there were but a mote99 in yours,
A grain, a dust, a gnat, a wandering hair,
Any annoyance in that precious sense101:
Then feeling what small things are boisterous102 there,
Your vile intent must needs seem horrible.
HUBERT Is this your promise? Go to104, hold your tongue.
ARTHUR Hubert, the utterance of a brace105 of tongues
Must needs want pleading106 for a pair of eyes:
Let me not107 hold my tongue: let me not, Hubert:
Or, Hubert, if you will, cut out my tongue,
So I may keep mine eyes. O, spare mine eyes,
Though to no use but still110 to look on you.
Lo, by my troth111, the instrument is cold
And would not harm me.
HUBERT I can heat it, boy.
ARTHUR No, in good sooth114: the fire is dead with grief,
Being create115 for comfort, to be used
In undeserved extremes: see else116 yourself:
There is no malice in this burning coal:
The breath of heaven hath blown his spirit out,
And strewed repentant ashes on his head.
HUBERT But with my breath I can revive it, boy.
ARTHUR An if you do, you will but121 make it blush
And glow with shame of your proceedings, Hubert:
Nay, it perchance will sparkle in123 your eyes,
And, like a dog that is compelled to fight,
Snatch at his master that doth tarre125 him on.
All things that you should use to do me wrong
Deny their office127: only you do lack
That mercy, which fierce fire and iron extends128,
Creatures of note for mercy, lacking uses129.
HUBERT Well, see to live: I will not touch thine eye
For all the treasure that thine uncle owes131:
Yet am I sworn and I did purpose132, boy,
With this same very iron to burn them out.
ARTHUR O, now you look like Hubert. All this while
You were disguised.
HUBERT Peace; no more. Adieu.
Your uncle must not know but137 you are dead.
I'll fill these dogged138 spies with false reports:
And, pretty child, sleep doubtless139, and secure,
That Hubert for the wealth of all the world,
Will not offend141 thee.
ARTHUR O heaven! I thank you, Hubert.
HUBERT Silence, no more: go closely143 in with me.
Much danger do I undergo for thee.
Exeunt
Act 4 Scene 2
running scene 7
Enter King John, Pembroke, Salisbury and other Lords
King John ascends the throne
KING JOHN Here once again we sit: once again crowned,
And looked upon, I hope, with cheerful eyes.
PEMBROKE This 'once again', but that your highness pleased,
Was once4 superfluous: you were crowned before,
An
d that high royalty was ne'er plucked off:
The faiths of men ne'er stained with revolt:
Fresh7 expectation troubled not the land
With any longed-for change or better state8.
SALISBURY Therefore, to be possessed with double pomp9,
To guard10 a title that was rich before,
To gild11 refined gold, to paint the lily,
To throw a perfume on the violet,
To smooth the ice, or add another hue
Unto the rainbow, or with taper-light14
To seek the beauteous eye of heaven15 to garnish,
Is wasteful and ridiculous excess.
PEMBROKE But that your royal pleasure17 must be done,
This act is as an ancient tale new told,
And, in the last repeating, troublesome,
Being urged at a time unseasonable20.
SALISBURY In this the antique and well-noted21 face
Of plain old form is much disfigured22,
And, like a shifted23 wind unto a sail,
It makes the course of thoughts to fetch about24,
Startles and frights consideration25,
Makes sound26 opinion sick and truth suspected,
For putting on so new a fashioned27 robe.
PEMBROKE When workmen strive to do better than well,
They do confound29 their skill in covetousness,
And oftentimes excusing of a fault30
Doth make the fault the worse by th'excuse:
As patches set upon a little breach32
Discredit33 more in hiding of the fault
Than did the fault before it was so patched.
SALISBURY To this effect, before you were new crowned35,
We breathed36 our counsel: but it pleased your highness
To overbear37 it, and we are all well pleased,
Since all and every part of what we would
Doth make a stand at39 what your highness will.
KING JOHN Some reasons of this double coronation
I have possessed you with41, and think them strong.
And more, more strong, than lesser is my fear42,
I shall indue43 you with: meantime but ask
What you would have reformed that is not well,
And well shall you perceive how willingly
I will both hear and grant you your requests.
King John/Henry VIII (Signet Classics) Page 8
