King John & Henry VIII

by William Shakespeare

If zealous love should go in search of virtue,

  Where should he find it purer than in Blanche?

  If love ambitious sought a match of birth438,

  Whose veins bound439 richer blood than Lady Blanche?

  Such as she is, in beauty, virtue, birth,

  Is the young dauphin every way complete441:

  If not complete of442, say he is not she:

  And she again wants443 nothing, to name want,

  If want it be not that she is not he444:

  He is the half part of a blessèd man,

  Left to be finishèd446 by such as she:

  And she a fair divided447 excellence,

  Whose fullness of perfection lies in him.

  O, two such silver currents when they join

  Do glorify the banks that bound them in:

  And two such shores to two such streams made one,

  Two such controlling bounds452 shall you be, kings,

  To these two princes453, if you marry them:

  This union shall do more than battery454 can

  To our fast-closèd gates: for at this match455,

  With swifter spleen than powder456 can enforce,

  The mouth of passage shall we fling wide ope457,

  And give you entrance: but without this match,

  The sea enragèd is not half so deaf,

  Lions more confident, mountains and rocks

  More free from motion, no, not Death himself

  In mortal fury half so peremptory462,

  As we to keep this city.

  BASTARD Here’s a stay464

  That shakes the rotten carcass of old Death

  Out of his rags. Here’s a large mouth, indeed,

  That spits forth death and mountains, rocks and seas,

  Talks as familiarly of roaring lions

  As maids of thirteen do of puppy-dogs.

  What cannoneer begot this lusty blood470?

  He speaks plain cannon: fire, and smoke, and bounce471:

  He gives the bastinado472 with his tongue:

  Our ears are cudgelled: not a word of his

  But buffets474 better than a fist of France:

  Zounds! I was never so bethumped475 with words

  Since I first called my brother’s father dad476.

  QUEEN ELINOR Son, list to this conjunction477, make this match,

  Give with our niece a dowry large enough:

  For, by this knot, thou shalt so surely tie

  Thy now unsured480 assurance to the crown

  That yon green boy shall have no sun481 to ripe

  The bloom that promiseth a mighty fruit.

  I see a yielding in the looks of France:

  Mark484 how they whisper: urge them while their souls

  Are capable of485 this ambition,

  Lest zeal486, now melted by the windy breath

  Of soft petitions, pity and remorse487,

  Cool and congeal again to what it was.

  CITIZEN Why answer not the double majesties

  This friendly treaty490 of our threatened town?

  KING PHILIP Speak England first, that hath been forward491 first

  To speak unto this city: what say you?

  KING JOHN If that the dauphin there, thy princely son,

  Can in this book of beauty read ‘I love’494,

  Her dowry shall weigh equal with a queen:

  For Anjou496 and fair Touraine, Maine, Poitiers,

  And all that we upon this side the497 sea —

  Except this city now by us besieged —

  Find liable499 to our crown and dignity,

  Shall gild her bridal bed and make her rich

  In titles, honours, and promotions501,

  As she in beauty, education, blood,

  Holds hand with503 any princess of the world.

  KING PHILIP What say’st thou, boy? Look in the lady’s face.

  LEWIS I do, my lord, and in her eye I find

  A wonder, or a wondrous miracle,

  The shadow507 of myself formed in her eye:

  Which, being but the shadow of your son508,

  Becomes a sun and makes your son a shadow509:

  I do protest I never loved myself

  Till now infixèd511 I beheld myself

  Drawn in the flattering table512 of her eye.

  Whispers with Blanche

  BASTARD Drawn513 in the flattering table of her eye,

  Hanged in the frowning wrinkle of her brow,

  And quartered in her heart, he doth espy515

  Himself love’s traitor: this is pity now,

  That hanged and drawn and quartered there should be

  In such a love518 so vile a lout as he.

  BLANCHE My uncle’s will519 in this respect is mine:

  If he see aught520 in you that makes him like,

  That anything521 he sees which moves his liking,

  I can with ease translate522 it to my will:

  Or if you will, to speak more properly523,

  I will enforce524 it eas’ly to my love.

  Further I will not flatter you, my lord,

  That all I see in you is worthy526 love,

  Than this: that nothing do I see in you,

  Though churlish528 thoughts themselves should be your judge,

  That I can find should merit529 any hate.

  KING JOHN What say these young ones? What say you, my niece?

  BLANCHE That she is bound in honour still531 to do

  What you in wisdom still vouchsafe532 to say.

  KING JOHN Speak then, Prince Dauphin, can you love this lady?

  LEWIS Nay, ask me if I can refrain from love,

  For I do love her most unfeignedly535.

  KING JOHN Then do I give Volquessen, Touraine, Maine,

  Poitiers and Anjou, these five provinces,

  With her to thee, and this addition more:

  Full thirty thousand marks539 of English coin.

  Philip of France, if thou be pleased withal540,

  Command thy son and daughter to join hands.

  KING PHILIP It likes us well, young princes: close542 your hands.

  AUSTRIA And your lips too, for I am well assured543

  That I did so when I was first assured544.

  Lewis and Blanche join hands and kiss

  KING PHILIP Now, citizens of Angiers, ope your gates,

  Let in that amity which you have made,

  For at Saint Mary’s chapel presently547

  The rites of marriage shall be solemnized.

  Is not the lady Constance in this troop?

  I know she is not, for this match made up550

  Her presence would have interrupted much.

  Where is she and her son? Tell me, who552 knows.

  LEWIS She is sad and passionate553 at your highness’ tent.

  KING PHILIP And by my faith this league that we have made

  Will give her sadness very little cure.—

  Brother of England, how may we content

  This widow lady? In her right we came,

  Which we, God knows, have turned another way,

  To our own vantage.

  KING JOHN We will heal up all,

  For we’ll create young Arthur Duke of Bretagne

  And Earl of Richmond, and this rich fair town

  We make him lord of. Call the lady Constance:

  Some speedy messenger bid her repair564

  To our solemnity565: I trust we shall,

  [Exit Salisbury?]

  If not fill up the measure566 of her will,

  Yet in some measure567 satisfy her so

  That we shall stop her exclamation568.

  Go we as well as haste will suffer569 us

  To this unlooked-for, unpreparèd pomp570.

  Exeunt [all but the Bastard]

  BASTARD Mad world, mad kings, mad composition571!

  John, to stop Arthur’s title in the whole572,

  Hath willingly departed573 with a part,

  And France,
whose armour conscience buckled on,

  Whom zeal and charity brought to the field

  As God’s own soldier, rounded576 in the ear

  With577 that same purpose-changer, that sly devil,

  That broker that still breaks the pate of faith578,

  That daily break-vow, he that wins579 of all,

  Of kings, of beggars, old men, young men, maids,

  Who having no external thing581 to lose

  But the word ‘maid’582, cheats the poor maid of that:

  That smooth-faced gentleman, tickling commodity583,

  Commodity, the bias584 of the world,

  The world who of itself is peisèd585 well,

  Made to run even586 upon even ground,

  Till this advantage, this vile-drawing587 bias,

  This sway588 of motion, this commodity,

  Makes it take head from all indifferency589,

  From all direction, purpose, course, intent:

  And this same bias, this commodity,

  This bawd, this broker, this all-changing592 word,

  Clapped on the outward eye593 of fickle France,

  Hath drawn him from his own determined aid594,

  From a resolved595 and honourable war,

  To a most base596 and vile-concluded peace.

  And why rail I on597 this commodity?

  But for598 because he hath not wooed me yet:

  Not that I have the power to clutch599 my hand,

  When his fair angels would salute600 my palm;

  But for my hand, as unattempted601 yet,

  Like a poor beggar, raileth on the rich.

  Well, whiles I am a beggar, I will rail,

  And say there is no sin but to be rich:

  And being rich, my virtue then shall be

  To say there is no vice but beggary:

  Since kings break faith upon607 commodity,

  Gain be my lord, for I will worship thee.

  Exit

  Act 2 [Scene 2]

  running scene 3

  Enter Constance, Arthur and Salisbury

  To Salisbury

  CONSTANCE Gone to be married? Gone to swear a peace?

  False blood to false blood joined! Gone to be friends?

  Shall Lewis have Blanche, and Blanche those provinces?

  It is not so, thou hast misspoke4, misheard:

  Be well advised5, tell o’er thy tale again.

  It cannot be, thou dost but6 say ’tis so.

  I trust7 I may not trust thee, for thy word

  Is but the vain breath of a common man8:

  Believe me, I do not believe thee, man:

  I have a king’s oath to the contrary.

  Thou shalt be punished for thus frighting11 me,

  For I am sick and capable of12 fears:

  Oppressed with wrongs, and therefore full of fears:

  A widow, husbandless, subject to fears,

  A woman naturally born to fears;

  And though16 thou now confess thou didst but jest

  With my vexed spirits, I cannot take a truce17,

  But they will quake and tremble all this day.

  What dost thou mean by shaking of thy head?

  Why dost thou look so sadly20 on my son?

  What means that hand upon that breast of thine?

  Why holds thine eye that lamentable rheum22,

  Like a proud river peering o’er his23 bounds?

  Be these sad24 signs confirmers of thy words?

  Then speak again, not all thy former tale,

  But this one word: whether thy tale be true.

  SALISBURY As true as I believe you think them27 false

  That give you cause to prove28 my saying true.

  CONSTANCE O, if thou teach me to believe this sorrow,

  Teach thou this sorrow how to make me die,

  And let belief and life encounter31 so

  As doth the fury of two desperate men,

  Which in the very meeting fall and die.

  To Arthur

  Lewis marry Blanche!— O boy, then where art thou?

  France friend with England, what becomes of me?—

  To Salisbury

  Fellow, be gone: I cannot brook36 thy sight:

  This news hath made thee a most ugly man.

  SALISBURY What other harm have I, good lady, done,

  But spoke the harm that is by others done?

  CONSTANCE Which harm within itself so heinous is

  As it makes harmful all that speak of it.

  ARTHUR I do beseech you, madam, be content42.

  CONSTANCE If thou that bidd’st me be content wert grim43,

  Ugly and sland’rous44 to thy mother’s womb,

  Full of unpleasing blots and sightless45 stains,

  Lame, foolish, crooked, swart, prodigious46,

  Patched47 with foul moles and eye-offending marks,

  I would not care, I then would be content,

  For then I should not love thee, no, nor thou

  Become50 thy great birth, nor deserve a crown.

  But thou art fair51, and at thy birth, dear boy,

  Nature and Fortune joined to make thee great.

  Of Nature’s gifts thou mayst with lilies boast,

  And with the half-blown54 rose. But Fortune, O,

  She is corrupted, changed, and won from thee:

  Sh’adulterates hourly56 with thine uncle John,

  And with her golden hand hath plucked on57 France

  To tread down fair respect of sovereignty58,

  And made his majesty the bawd to theirs59.

  France is a bawd to Fortune and King John,

  That strumpet61 Fortune, that usurping John:—

  To Salisbury

  Tell me, thou fellow, is not France forsworn62?

  Envenom him with words63, or get thee gone

  And leave those woes alone, which I alone

  Am bound to underbear65.

  SALISBURY Pardon me, madam,

  I may not go without you to the kings.

  CONSTANCE Thou mayst, thou shalt: I will not go with thee:

  I will instruct my sorrows to be proud69,

  For grief is proud and makes his owner stoop.

  To me and to the state71 of my great grief

  Let kings assemble: for my grief’s so great

  That no supporter but the huge firm earth

  Can hold it up: here I and sorrows sit:

  She sits upon the ground

  Here is my throne: bid kings come bow to it.

  Constance remains seated

  [Exit Salisbury with Arthur]

  Act 3 Scene 1

  running scene 3 continues

  Enter King John, King Philip, Lewis, Blanche, Queen Elinor, the Bastard [and] Austria

  KING PHILIP ’Tis true, fair daughter1, and this blessèd day

  Ever in France shall be kept festival:

  To solemnize this day the glorious sun

  Stays in his course and plays the alchemist4,

  Turning with splendour of his precious eye

  The meagre cloddy earth to glittering gold:

  The yearly course that brings this day about

  Shall never see it but a holy day8.

  Rising

  CONSTANCE A wicked day, and not a holy day!

  What hath this day deserved? What hath it done,

  That it in golden letters11 should be set

  Among the high tides12 in the calendar?

  Nay, rather turn this day out of the week,

  This day of shame, oppression, perjury.

  Or if it must stand still, let wives with child15

  Pray that their burdens may not fall16 this day,

  Lest that their hopes prodigiously be crossed17:

  But on this day let seamen fear no wreck18:

  No bargains break that are not this day made19;

  This day all things begun come to ill end,

  Yea, faith itself to hollow falsehood change.

  KING
PHILIP By heaven, lady, you shall have no cause

  To curse the fair proceedings of this day:

  Have I not pawned to you my majesty24?

  CONSTANCE You have beguiled25 me with a counterfeit

  Resembling majesty, which, being touched and tried26,

  Proves valueless: you are forsworn27, forsworn:

  You came in arms28 to spill mine enemies’ blood,

  But now in arms you strengthen it with yours29.

  The grappling vigour and rough frown of war

  Is cold in amity and painted31 peace,

  And our oppression hath made up this league32:

  Arm, arm, you heavens, against these perjured kings!

  A widow cries: be husband to me, heavens!

  Let not the hours of this ungodly day

  Wear out the days36 in peace; but, ere sun set,

  Set armèd discord ’twixt these perjured kings:

  Hear me, O, hear me!

  AUSTRIA Lady Constance, peace!

  CONSTANCE War, war, no peace! Peace is to me a war:

  O Limoges41, O Austria, thou dost shame

  That bloody spoil42: thou slave, thou wretch, thou coward:

  Thou little valiant, great in villainy,

  Thou ever strong upon the stronger side;

  Thou Fortune’s champion45, that dost never fight

  But when her humorous ladyship is by46

  To teach thee safety47: thou art perjured too,

  And sooth’st up greatness48. What a fool art thou,

  A ramping fool, to brag, and stamp, and swear49

  Upon my party: thou cold-blooded slave,

  Hast thou not spoke like thunder on my side?

  Been sworn my soldier, bidding me depend

  Upon thy stars, thy fortune, and thy strength,

  And dost thou now fall over54 to my foes?

  Thou wear a lion’s hide! Doff55 it for shame,

  And hang a calf’s-skin on those recreant56 limbs.