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That all I see in you is worthy love,
Than this: that nothing do I see in you,
Though churlish thoughts themselves should be your
That I can find should merit any hate.
K. JOHN. What say these young ones? What say you,
BLANCH. That she is bound in honour still to do
What you in wisdom still vouchsafe to say.
K. John. Speak, then, Prince Dolphin; can you love this
LEw. Nay; ask me if I can refrain from love;
For I do love her most unfeignedly.
K. John. Then do I give Volquessen,' Touraine, Maine,
Poictiers, and Anjou, these five provinces,
With her to thee; and this addition more,
Full thirty thousand marks of English coin.
Philip of France, if thou be pleas'd withal,
Command thy son and daughter to join hands.
K. Phi. It likes us well. Young Princes, close your
hands. Aust. And your lips too; for I am well assur'd
That I did so when I was first assur’d.?
K. Phi. Now, Citizens of Angiers, ope your gates :
Let in that amity which you
For at Saint Mary's Chapel presently
The rites of marriage shall be solemniz'd.
Is not the Lady Constance in this troop?
I know she is not; for this match made
up Her presence would have interrupted much :
Where is she and her son? tell me, who knows.
LEW. She is sad and passioned at your Highness' tent.
K. Phi. 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'd lady? In her right we came;
Which we, God knows, have turn'd another way
To our own vantage.
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 repair
To our solemnity: I trust we shall,
If not fill up the measure of her will,
Yet in some measure satisfy her so
That we shall stop her exclamation.
Go we, as well as haste will suffer us,
To this unlook’d-for, unprepared pomp.
[Exeunt all but the Bastard. Bast. Mad World ! mad Kings ! mad Composition !
John, to stop Arthur's title in the whole,
Hath willingly departed with a part;
And France, whose armour Conscience buckled on,
Whom Zeal and Charity brought to the field
As God's own soldier, rounded in the ear
With that same purpose-changer, that sly Devil;
That broker, that still breaks the pate of Faith;
That daily break-vow; he that wins of all,
Of Kings, of beggars, old men, young men, maids
(Who, having no external thing to lose
But the word maid, cheats the poor maid of that);
That smooth-fac'd gentleman, tickling Commodity*
Commodity, the bias of the World:
The World, who of itself is peised well,
Made to run even upon even ground,
Till this advantage, this vile-drawing bias,
sway of motion, this Commodity,
Makes it take head from all indifferency,
From all direction, purpose, course, intent;
And this same bias, this Commodity,
This bawd, this broker, this all-changing word,
Clapp'd on the outward eye of fickle France,
Hath drawn him from his own determin'd aid;
From a resolv'd and honourable war
To a most base and vile-concluded peace.
And why rail I on this Commodity,
But for because he hath not woo'd me yet?
Not that I have the power to clutch my hand,
When his fair angels would salute my palm ;
parted. 2 whispered.
But that my hand, as unattempted 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 upon Commodity,
Gain, be my Lord, for I will worship thee!
SCENE I. The French KING's Tent.
Enter CONSTANCE, ARTHUR, and SALISBURY.
Const. Gone to be marry'd ! gone to swear a peace!
False blood to false blood join'd! gone to be friends!
Shall Lewis have Blanch ? and Blanch those pro-
It is not so; thou hast misspoke, misheard;
Be well advis'd, tell o'er thy tale again :
It cannot be; thou dost but say 'tis so:
I trust I may not trust thee; for thy word
Is but the vain breath of a common man:
Believe me, I do not believe thee, Man;
I have a King's oath to the contrary.
Thou shalt be punish'd for thus frighting me,
For I am sick, and capable of fears;
Oppress'd with wrongs, and therefore full of fears;
A widow, husbandless, subject to fears;
A woman, naturally born to fears;
And, though thou now confess thou didst but jest,
With my vex'd spirits I cannot take a truce,
But they will quake and tremble all this day.
What dost thou mean by shaking of thy head?
Why dost thou look so sadly on my son ?
What means that hand upon that breast of thine ?
Why holds thine eye that lamentable rheum,
Like a proud river peering o'er his bounds?
Be these sad signs confirmers of thy words?
Then speak again; not all thy former tale,
But this one word: whether thy tale be true.
Sal. As true as I believe you think them false,
That give you cause to prove my saying true.
Const. O, if thou teach me to believe this sorrow,
Teach thou this sorrow how to make me die;
And let Belief and Life encounter so
As doth the fury of two desperate men,
Which in the very meeting fall and die !
Lewis marry Blanch! O Boy, then where art thou?
France friend with England! what becomes of me?
Fellow, be gone: I cannot brook thy sight;
This news hath made thee a most ugly man.
SAL. What other harm have I, good Lady, done
But spoke the harm that is by others done?
Const. Which harm within itself so heinous is
As it makes harmful all that speak of it.
ARTH. I do beseech you, Madam, be content.
Const. If thou, that bidd'st me be content, wert grim,
Ugly, and slanderous to thy mother's womb,
Full of unpleasing blots and sightless' stains,
Lame, foolish, crooked, swart, prodigious,
Patch'd 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
Become thy great birth, nor deserve a crown.
But thou art fair; and at thy birth, dear Boy,
Nature and Fortune join'd to make thee great:
Of Nature's gifts thou may'st with lilies boast,
And with the half-blown rose: but Fortune, 0,
She is corrupted, chang'd, and won from thee!
She adulterates hourly with thine uncle John;
And with her golden hand hath pluck'd on France
To tread down fair respect of sovereignty,
And made his majesty the bawd to their's.
France is a bawd to Fortune and King John,
That strumpet Fortune, that usurping John!
Tell me, thou Fellow, is not France forsworn ?
Envenom him with words; or get thee gone,
And leave those woes alone which I alone
Am bound to under-bear. SAL.
Pardon me, Madam, I
without you to the Kings.
CONSt. Thou may’st, thou shalt; I will not go with thee:
I will instruct my sorrows to be proud;
For Grief is proud, and makes his owner stoop.
To me, and to the state 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 Sorrow sit;
Here is my throne, bid Kings come bow to it.
[sits on the ground.
Enter KING JOHN, KING PHILIP, LEWIS, BLANCH,
ELINOR, the Bastard, AUSTRIA, and Attendants.
K. Phi. 'Tis true, fair Daughter; and this blessed day
Ever in France shall be kept festival :
To solemnize this day the glorious Sun
Stays in his course, and plays the alchemist,
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 holiday.
Const. [rising.] A wicked day, and not a holy day!
What hath this day deserv’d? what hath it done
That it in golden letters should be set
Among the high tides 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 child
Pray that their burthens may not fall this day,
Lest that their hopes prodigiously be cross'd ::
But on this day let seamen fear no wrack;
No bargains break that are not this day made;
This day all things begun come to ill end;
Yea; Faith itself to hollow Falsehood change !
K. Phi. By Heaven, Lady, you shall have no cause
To curse the fair proceedings of this day:
Have I not pawn’d to you my majesty ?