Abbildungen der Seite
PDF
EPUB

ACT III

Sc. IV

Enter CONSTANCE.

I pr'ythee, Lady, go away with me.

CONST. Lo, now! now see the issue of your peace!

20

K. PHI. Patience, good Lady! comfort, gentle Constance!
CONST. No; I defy all counsel, all redress,

But that which ends all counsel, true redress,
Death, death. O amiable lovely Death!
Thou odoriferous Stench! sound Rottenness!
Arise forth from the couch of lasting Night,
Thou hate and terror to Prosperity,
And I will kiss thy detestable bones,

And put my eyeballs in thy vaulty brows,
And ring these fingers with thy household worms,
And stop this gap of breath with fulsome dust,

And be a carrion monster like thyself:

Come, grin on me; and I will think thou smil'st,
And buss thee as thy wife! misery's Love,

O, come to me!

K. PHI.

O fair Affliction, peace!
CONST. No, no; I will not, having breath to cry:
O, that my tongue were in the thunder's mouth!
Then with a passion would I shake the World;
And rouse from sleep that fell anatomy,'
Which cannot hear a lady's feeble voice,
And scorns a modest invocation.

PAND. Lady, you utter madness, and not sorrow.
CONST. Thou art not holy to belie me so!

I am not mad; this hair I tear is mine;

My name is Constance; I was Geffrey's wife;
Young Arthur is my son, and he is lost :

I am not mad; I would to Heaven I were!
For then 'tis like I should forget myself:
O, if I could, what grief should I forget!
Preach some philosophy to make me mad,
And thou shalt be canoniz'd, Cardinal;
For, being not mad, but sensible of grief,
My reasonable part produces reason
How I may be deliver'd of these woes,
And teaches me to kill or hang myself:

1 skeleton.

30

30

[merged small][subsumed][ocr errors]

If I were mad, I should forget my son,
Or madly think a babe of clouts1 were he.
I am not mad; too well, too well I feel
The different plague of each calamity.
K. PHI. Bind up those tresses.

those tresses. O, what love I note In the fair multitude of those her hairs!

Where but by chance a silver drop hath fallen,

Even to that drop ten thousand wiry friends
Do glue themselves in sociable grief;

Like true, inseparable, faithful loves
Sticking together in calamity.

CONST. To England, if you will.

K. PHI.

Bind up your hairs.

CONST. Yes; that I will; and wherefore will I do it?

I tore them from their bonds, and cried aloud
O, that these hands could so redeem my son
As they have given these hairs their liberty!
But now I envy at their liberty,

And will again commit them to their bonds,
Because my poor child is a prisoner.

And, Father Cardinal, I have heard you say

That we shall see and know our friends in Heaven:

If that be true, I shall see my boy again;

For since the birth of Cain, the first male child,

To him that did but yesterday suspire,2

There was not such a gracious creature born.

But now will canker Sorrow eat my bud,

And chase the native beauty from his cheek;
And he will look as hollow as a Ghost,

As dim3 and meagre as an ague-fit;

And so he'll die; and, rising so again,

When I shall meet him in the Court of Heaven,
I shall not know him: therefore never, never
Must I behold my pretty Arthur more.
PAND. You hold too heinous a respect of Grief.
CONST. He talks to me that never had a son.
K. PHI. You are as fond of Grief as of your child.
CONST. Grief fills the room up of my absent child,
Lies in his bed, walks up and down with me,
Puts on his pretty looks, repeats his words,

1 rag-doll.

IV F

2 draw breath.

3 faded.

41

[blocks in formation]

ACT III

Sc. IV

Remembers me of all his gracious parts,

Stuffs out his vacant garments with his form:
Then have I reason to be fond of Grief.
well: had you such a loss as I,

Fare you
I could give better comfort than you do.
I will not keep this form1 upon my head,
When there is such disorder in my wit.

100

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!
K. PHI. I fear some outrage, and I'll follow her.
LEW. There's nothing in this world can make me joy:
Life is as tedious as a twice-told tale
Vexing the dull ear of a drowsy man;

[exit. [exit.

And bitter shame hath spoil'd the sweet world's taste,

III

That it yields nought but shame and bitterness.
PAND. Before the curing of a strong disease,

Even in the instant of repair and health,
The fit is strongest; evils that take leave
On their departure most of all shew evil:
What have you lost by losing of this day?
LEW. All days of glory, joy, and happiness.
PAND. If you had won it, certainly you had.
No, no; when Fortune means to men most good,
She looks upon them with a threatening eye.

'Tis strange to think how much King John hath lost
In this, which he accounts so clearly2 won:
Are not you griev'd that Arthur is his prisoner?
LEW. As heartily as he is glad he hath him.
PAND. 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 rub3

Out of the path, which shall directly lead

120

Thy foot to England's throne; and therefore mark: 130

John hath seiz'd Arthur; and it cannot be

That, whiles warm life plays in that infant's veins,

The misplac'd John should entertain one hour,

One minute, nay, one quiet breath of rest:

A sceptre snatch'd with an unruly hand

1 tire, dressing.

2 gloriously, brilliantly.

3 obstacle.

Must be as boisterously maintain'd as gain'd;
And he that stands upon a slippery place
Makes nice1 of no vild hold to stay him up:
That John may stand, then Arthur needs must fall;
So be it, for it cannot be but so.

LEW. But what shall I gain by young Arthur's fall?
PAND. You, in the right of Lady Blanch your wife,
May then make all the claim that Arthur did.
LEW. And lose it, life and all, as Arthur did.

you;

140

PAND. How green you are, and fresh in this old World!
John lays you plots; the times conspire with
For he that steeps his safety in true blood
Shall find but bloody safety and untrue.
This act, so evilly born, shall cool the hearts
Of all his people, and freeze up their zeal,
That none so small advantage shall step forth
To check his reign, but they will cherish it:
No natural exhalation in the Sky,

No

3

scope of Nature, no distemper'd day,
No common wind, no customed event,
But they will pluck away his natural cause,
And call them meteors, prodigies, and signs,
Abortives, presages, and tongues of Heaven
Plainly denouncing vengeance upon John.
LEW. May be he will not touch young Arthur's life,
But hold himself safe in his prisonment.
PAND. O, Sir, when he shall hear of your approach,

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 unacquainted Change;
And pick strong matter of revolt and wrath
Out of the bloody fingers' ends of John.

6

Methinks I see this hurly all on foot :

And lo! what better matter breeds for you
Than I have nam'd! The bastard Faulconbridge
Is now in England, ransacking the Church,
Offending Charity: if but a dozen French
Were there in arms, they would be as a call'
To train ten thousand English to their side;

[blocks in formation]

150

160

170

4 explicable effect. 8 wile. 43

АСТ III
Sc. IV

ACT III
Sc. IV

Or as a little snow, tumbled about,

Anon becomes a mountain. O noble Dolphin,
Go with me to the King: 'tis wonderful
What may be wrought out of their discontent,
Now that their souls are top1-full of offence:
For England go: I will whet on the King.
LEW. Strong reasons make strong actions: let us go :
If you say Ay, the King will not say No.

180

[exeunt.

ACT IV

SCENE I. A Castle in England.

Enter HUBERT and Executioners.

HUB. Heat me these irons hot; and look you stand
Within the arras: 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 heedful: hence, and watch.
FIRST EXEC. I hope your warrant will bear out the deed.
HUB. Uncleanly scruples! fear not you: look to 't.

[Exeunt Executioners.

Young Lad, come forth; I have to say with you.

ARTH. Good morrow, Hubert.

Enter ARTHUR.

Good morrow, little Prince.

10

HUB.
ARTH. As little Prince, having so great a title

To be more Prince, as may be.
HUB. Indeed, I have been merrier.
ARTH.

You are sad?

Mercy on me!

Methinks no body should be sad but I:
Yet, I remember, when I was in France,
Young gentlemen would be as sad as Night
Only for wantonness. By my Christendom,3
So 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 doubt
My uncle practises' more harm to me:

[blocks in formation]

20

[blocks in formation]
« ZurückWeiter »