| ACT III SCENE I | The French King's pavilion. | |
| | 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: | 5 |
| | Be well advised, 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; | 10 |
| | 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, | 15 |
| | 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? | 20 |
| | 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? | 25 |
| | 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, | 30 |
| | 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? | 35 |
| | 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? | 40 |
| 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 slanderous to thy mother's womb, | 45 |
| | 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 | 50 |
| | 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, | 55 |
| | She is corrupted, changed 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 theirs. | 60 |
| | 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 | 65 |
| | Am bound to under-bear. | |
| 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; | 70 |
| | 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 sorrows sit; | 75 |
| | Here is my throne, bid kings come bow to it. | |
| | Seats herself on the ground | |
| | Enter KING JOHN, KING PHILLIP, LEWIS, BLANCH, QUEEN 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, | 80 |
| | Turning with splendor 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 | A wicked day, and not a holy day! | 85 |
| | Rising | |
| | What hath this day deserved? 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. | 90 |
| | 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 wreck; | |
| | No bargains break that are not this day made: | 95 |
| | 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? | 100 |
| CONSTANCE | You have beguiled 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: | 105 |
| | 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 perjured kings! | |
| | A widow cries; be husband to me, heavens! | 110 |
| | Let not the hours of this ungodly day | |
| | Wear out the day in peace; but, ere sunset, | |
| | Set armed discord 'twixt these perjured kings! | |
| | Hear me, O, hear me! | |
| AUSTRIA | Lady Constance, peace! | 115 |
| 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 villany! | |
| | Thou ever strong upon the stronger side! | 120 |
| | Thou Fortune's champion that dost never fight | |
| | But when her humorous ladyship is by | |
| | To teach thee safety! thou art perjured too, | |
| | And soothest up greatness. What a fool art thou, | |
| | A ramping fool, to brag and stamp and swear | 125 |
| | 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 fores? | 130 |
| | 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 darest not say so, villain, for thy life. | 135 |
| BASTARD | And hang a calf's-skin on those recreant limbs. | |
| KING JOHN | We like not this; thou dost forget thyself. | |
| | Enter CARDINAL PANDULPH | |
| KING PHILIP | Here comes the holy legate of the pope. | |
| CARDINAL PANDULPH | Hail, you anointed deputies of heaven! | |
| | To thee, King John, my holy errand is. | 140 |
| | 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 force perforce | 145 |
| | Keep Stephen Langton, chosen archbishop | |
| | Of Canterbury, from that holy see? | |
| | This, in our foresaid holy father's name, | |
| | Pope Innocent, I do demand of thee. | |
| KING JOHN | What earthy name to interrogatories | 150 |
| | Can task the free breath of a sacred king? | |
| | Thou canst not, cardinal, devise a name | |
| | So slight, unworthy and ridiculous, | |
| | To charge me to an answer, as the pope. | |
| | Tell him this tale; and from the mouth of England | 155 |
| | Add thus much more, that no Italian priest | |
| | Shall tithe or toll in our dominions; | |
| | But as we, under heaven, are supreme head, | |
| | So under Him that great supremacy, | |
| | Where we do reign, we will alone uphold, | 160 |
| | Without the assistance of a mortal hand: | |
| | So tell the pope, all reverence set apart | |
| | To him and his usurp'd authority. | |
| KING PHILIP | Brother of England, you blaspheme in this. | |
| KING JOHN | Though you and all the kings of Christendom | 165 |
| | Are led so grossly by this meddling priest, | |
| | Dreading the curse that money may buy out; | |
| | And by the merit of vile gold, dross, dust, | |
| | Purchase corrupted pardon of a man, | |
| | Who in that sale sells pardon from himself, | 170 |
| | Though you and all the rest so grossly led | |
| | This juggling witchcraft with revenue cherish, | |
| | Yet I alone, alone do me oppose | |
| | Against the pope and count his friends my foes. | |
| CARDINAL PANDULPH | Then, by the lawful power that I have, | 175 |
| | Thou shalt stand cursed and excommunicate. | |
| | And blessed shall he be that doth revolt | |
| | From his allegiance to an heretic; | |
| | And meritorious shall that hand be call'd, | |
| | Canonized and worshipped as a saint, | 180 |
| | That takes away by any secret course | |
| | Thy hateful life. | |
| CONSTANCE | O, lawful let it be | |
| | That I have room with Rome to curse awhile! | |
| | Good father cardinal, cry thou amen | 185 |
| | To my keen curses; for without my wrong | |
| | There is no tongue hath power to curse him right. | |
| CARDINAL PANDULPH | There's law and warrant, lady, for my curse. | |
| CONSTANCE | And for mine too: when law can do no right, | |
| | Let it be lawful that law bar no wrong: | 190 |
| | Law cannot give my child his kingdom here, | |
| | For he that holds his kingdom holds the law; | |
| | Therefore, since law itself is perfect wrong, | |
| | How can the law forbid my tongue to curse? | |
| CARDINAL PANDULPH | Philip of France, on peril of a curse, | 195 |
| |
Let go the hand of that arch-heretic; | |
| | And raise the power of France upon his head, | |
| | Unless he do submit himself to Rome. | |
| QUEEN ELINOR | Look'st thou pale, France? do not let go thy hand. | |
| CONSTANCE | Look to that, devil; lest that France repent, | 200 |
| | And by disjoining hands, hell lose a soul. | |
| AUSTRIA | King Philip, listen to the cardinal. | |
| BASTARD | And hang a calf's-skin on his recreant limbs. | |
| AUSTRIA | Well, ruffian, I must pocket up these wrongs, Because-- | |
| BASTARD | Your breeches best may carry them. | 205 |
| KING JOHN | Philip, what say'st thou to the cardinal? | |
| CONSTANCE | What should he say, but as the cardinal? | |
| LEWIS | Bethink you, father; for the difference | |
| | Is purchase of a heavy curse from Rome, | |
| | Or the light loss of England for a friend: | 210 |
| | Forego the easier. | |
| BLANCH | That's the curse of Rome. | |
| CONSTANCE | O Lewis, stand fast! the devil tempts thee here | |
| | In likeness of a new untrimmed bride. | |
| BLANCH | The Lady Constance speaks not from her faith, | 215 |
| | But from her need. | |
| CONSTANCE | O, if thou grant my need, | |
| | Which only lives but by the death of faith, | |
| | That need must needs infer this principle, | |
| | That faith would live again by death of need. | 220 |
| | O then, tread down my need, and faith mounts up; | |
| | Keep my need up, and faith is trodden down! | |
| KING JOHN | The king is moved, and answers not to this. | |
| CONSTANCE | O, be removed from him, and answer well! | |
| AUSTRIA | Do so, King Philip; hang no more in doubt. | 225 |
| BASTARD | Hang nothing but a calf's-skin, most sweet lout. | |
| KING PHILIP | I am perplex'd, and know not what to say. | |
| CARDINAL PANDULPH | What canst thou say but will perplex thee more, | |
| | If thou stand excommunicate and cursed? | |
| KING PHILIP | Good reverend father, make my person yours, | 230 |
| | And tell me how you would bestow yourself. | |
| | This royal hand and mine are newly knit, | |
| | And the conjunction of our inward souls | |
| | Married in league, coupled and linked together | |
| | With all religious strength of sacred vows; | 235 |
| | The latest breath that gave the sound of words | |
| | Was deep-sworn faith, peace, amity, true love | |
| | Between our kingdoms and our royal selves, | |
| | And even before this truce, but new before, | |
| | No longer than we well could wash our hands | 240 |
| | To clap this royal bargain up of peace, | |
| | Heaven knows, they were besmear'd and over-stain'd | |
| | With slaughter's pencil, where revenge did paint | |
| | The fearful difference of incensed kings: | |
| | And shall these hands, so lately purged of blood, | 245 |
| | So newly join'd in love, so strong in both, | |
| | Unyoke this seizure and this kind regreet? | |
| | Play fast and loose with faith? so jest with heaven, | |
| | Make such unconstant children of ourselves, | |
| | As now again to snatch our palm from palm, | 250 |
| | Unswear faith sworn, and on the marriage-bed | |
| | Of smiling peace to march a bloody host, | |
| | And make a riot on the gentle brow | |
| | Of true sincerity? O, holy sir, | |
| | My reverend father, let it not be so! | 255 |
| | Out of your grace, devise, ordain, impose | |
| | Some gentle order; and then we shall be blest | |
| | To do your pleasure and continue friends. | |
| CARDINAL PANDULPH | All form is formless, order orderless, | |
| | Save what is opposite to England's love. | 260 |
| | Therefore to arms! be champion of our church, | |
| | Or let the church, our mother, breathe her curse, | |
| | A mother's curse, on her revolting son. | |
| | France, thou mayst hold a serpent by the tongue, | |
| | A chafed lion by the mortal paw, | 265 |
| | A fasting tiger safer by the tooth, | |
| | Than keep in peace that hand which thou dost hold. | |
| KING PHILIP | I may disjoin my hand, but not my faith. | |
| CARDINAL PANDULPH | So makest thou faith an enemy to faith; | |
| | And like a civil war set'st oath to oath, | 270 |
| | Thy tongue against thy tongue. O, let thy vow | |
| | First made to heaven, first be to heaven perform'd, | |
| | That is, to be the champion of our church! | |
| | What since thou sworest is sworn against thyself | |
| | And may not be performed by thyself, | 275 |
| | For that which thou hast sworn to do amiss | |
| | Is not amiss when it is truly done, | |
| | And being not done, where doing tends to ill, | |
| | The truth is then most done not doing it: | |
| | The better act of purposes mistook | 280 |
| | Is to mistake again; though indirect, | |
| | Yet indirection thereby grows direct, | |
| | And falsehood falsehood cures, as fire cools fire | |
| | Within the scorched veins of one new-burn'd. | |
| | It is religion that doth make vows kept; | 285 |
| | But thou hast sworn against religion, | |
| | By what thou swear'st against the thing thou swear'st, | |
| | And makest an oath the surety for thy truth | |
| | Against an oath: the truth thou art unsure | |
| | To swear, swears only not to be forsworn; | 290 |
| | Else what a mockery should it be to swear! | |
| | But thou dost swear only to be forsworn; | |
| | And most forsworn, to keep what thou dost swear. | |
| | Therefore thy later vows against thy first | |
| | Is in thyself rebellion to thyself; | 295 |
| | And better conquest never canst thou make | |
| | Than arm thy constant and thy nobler parts | |
| | Against these giddy loose suggestions: | |
| | Upon which better part our prayers come in, | |
| | If thou vouchsafe them. But if not, then know | 300 |
| | The peril of our curses light on thee | |
| | So heavy as thou shalt not shake them off, | |
| | But in despair die under their black weight. | |
| AUSTRIA | Rebellion, flat rebellion! | |
| BASTARD | Will't not be? | 305 |
| | Will not a calfs-skin stop that mouth of thine? | |
| LEWIS | Father, to arms! | |
| BLANCH | Upon thy wedding-day? | |
| | Against the blood that thou hast married? | |
| | What, shall our feast be kept with slaughter'd men? | 310 |
| | Shall braying trumpets and loud churlish drums, | |
| | Clamours of hell, be measures to our pomp? | |
| | O husband, hear me! ay, alack, how new | |
| | Is husband in my mouth! even for that name, | |
| | Which till this time my tongue did ne'er pronounce, | 315 |
| | Upon my knee I beg, go not to arms | |
| | Against mine uncle. | |
| CONSTANCE | O, upon my knee, | |
| | Made hard with kneeling, I do pray to thee, | |
| | Thou virtuous Dauphin, alter not the doom | 320 |
| | Forethought by heaven! | |
| BLANCH | Now shall I see thy love: what motive may | |
| | Be stronger with thee than the name of wife? | |
| CONSTANCE | That which upholdeth him that thee upholds, | |
| | His honour: O, thine honour, Lewis, thine honour! | 325 |
| LEWIS | I muse your majesty doth seem so cold, | |
| | When such profound respects do pull you on. | |
| CARDINAL PANDULPH | I will denounce a curse upon his head. | |
| KING PHILIP | Thou shalt not need. England, I will fall from thee. | |
| CONSTANCE | O fair return of banish'd majesty! | 330 |
| QUEEN ELINOR | O foul revolt of French inconstancy! | |
| KING JOHN | France, thou shalt rue this hour within this hour. | |
| BASTARD | Old Time the clock-setter, that bald sexton Time, | |
| | Is it as he will? well then, France shall rue. | |
| BLANCH | The sun's o'ercast with blood: fair day, adieu! | 335 |
| | Which is the side that I must go withal? | |
| | I am with both: each army hath a hand; | |
| | And in their rage, I having hold of both, | |
| | They swirl asunder and dismember me. | |
| | Husband, I cannot pray that thou mayst win; | 340 |
| | Uncle, I needs must pray that thou mayst lose; | |
| | Father, I may not wish the fortune thine; | |
| | Grandam, I will not wish thy fortunes thrive: | |
| | Whoever wins, on that side shall I lose | |
| | Assured loss before the match be play'd. | 345 |
| LEWIS | Lady, with me, with me thy fortune lies. | |
| BLANCH | There where my fortune lives, there my life dies. | |
| KING JOHN | Cousin, go draw our puissance together. | |
| | Exit BASTARD | |
| | France, I am burn'd up with inflaming wrath; | |
| | A rage whose heat hath this condition, | 350 |
| | That nothing can allay, nothing but blood, | |
| | The blood, and dearest-valued blood, of France. | |
| KING PHILIP | Thy rage sham burn thee up, and thou shalt turn | |
| | To ashes, ere our blood shall quench that fire: | |
| | Look to thyself, thou art in jeopardy. | 355 |
| KING JOHN | No more than he that threats. To arms let's hie! | |
| | Exeunt | |
