The Complete Works of William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare (moboreader .TXT) 📕

If he see aught in you that makes him like, That anything he sees which moves his liking I can with ease translate it to my will; Or if you will, to speak more properly, I will enforce it eas’ly to my love.

Further I will not flatter you, my lord, 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 judge-That I can find should merit any hate.

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

BLANCH. That she is bound in honour still to do What you in wisdom still vouchsafe 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 unfeignedly.

KING 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.

KING PHILIP. It likes us well; young princes, close your hands.

AUSTRIA. And your lips too; for I am well assur’d That I did so when I was first assur’d.

KING PHILIP. Now, citizens of Angiers, ope your gates, Let in that amity which you have made; 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.

LEWIS. She is sad and passionate 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 turn’d another way, To our own vantage.

KING JOHN. We will heal up all,

For we’ll create young Arthur Duke of Britaine, 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

BASTARD. Mad world! mad kings! mad composition!

John, to stop Arthur’s tide 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, This 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, But for 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. Exit

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ACT III. SCENE 1.

France. The FRENCH KING’S camp

Enter CONSTANCE, ARTHUR, and SALISBURY

CONSTANCE. Gone to be married! Gone to swear a peace!

False blood to false blood join’d! Gone to be friends!

Shall Lewis have Blanch, and Blanch those provinces?

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.

SALISBURY. As true as I believe you think them false That give you cause to prove 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 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.

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 content.

CONSTANCE. If thou that bid’st me be content wert grim, Ugly, and sland’rous 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 mayst with lilies boast, And with the half-blown rose; but Fortune, O!

She is corrupted, chang’d, and won from thee; Sh’ 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 theirs.

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 underbear.

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 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. [Seats herself on the ground]

Here I and sorrows sit;

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

Enter KING JOHN, KING PHILIP, LEWIS, BLANCH, ELINOR, the BASTARD, AUSTRIA, and attendants KING PHILIP. ‘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.

CONSTANCE. [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 burdens may not fall this day, Lest that their hopes prodigiously be cross’d; But on this day let seamen fear no wreck; 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!

KING PHILIP. 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?

CONSTANCE. You have beguil’d me with a counterfeit Resembling majesty, which, being touch’d and tried, Proves valueless; you are forsworn, forsworn; You came in arms to spill mine enemies’ blood, But now in arms you strengthen it with yours.

The grappling vigour and rough frown of war Is cold in amity and painted peace,

And our oppression hath made up this league.

Arm, arm, you heavens, against these perjur’d kings!

A widow cries: Be husband to me, heavens!

Let not the hours of this ungodly day Wear out the day in peace; but, ere sunset, Set armed discord ‘twixt these perjur’d kings!

Hear me, O, hear me!

AUSTRIA. Lady Constance, peace!

CONSTANCE. War! war! no peace! Peace is to me a war.

O Lymoges! O Austria! thou dost shame That bloody spoil. Thou slave, thou wretch, thou coward!

Thou little valiant, great in villainy!

Thou ever strong upon the stronger side!

Thou Fortune’s champion that dost never fight But when her humorous ladyship is by

To teach thee safety! Thou art perjur’d too, And sooth’st up greatness. What a fool art thou, A ramping fool, to brag and stamp and swear 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 over to my foes?

Thou wear a lion’s hide! Doff it for shame, And hang a calf’s-skin on those recreant limbs.

AUSTRIA. O that a man should speak those words to me!

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

AUSTRIA. Thou dar’st not say so, villain, for thy life.

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

KING JOHN. We like not this: thou dost forget thyself.

Enter PANDULPH

KING PHILIP. Here comes the holy legate of the Pope.

PANDULPH. Hail, you anointed deputies of heaven!

To thee, King John, my holy errand is.

I Pandulph, of fair Milan cardinal,

And from Pope Innocent the legate here, Do in his name religiously demand

Why thou against the Church, our holy mother, So wilfully dost spurn; and