But thou shalt have; and creep time ne'er so slow, The sun is in the heaven, and the proud day, Had bak'd thy blood, and made it heavy, thick, (Which, else, runs tickling up and down the veins, Making that idiot, laughter, keep men's eyes, Or if that thou could'st see me without eyes, take, Though that my death were adjunct to my act, By heaven, I'd do't. K. John. Do not I know, thou would'st? Good Hubert, Hubert, Hubert, throw thine eye On yon young boy: I'll tell thee what, my friend, He is a very serpent in my way; And, wheresoe'er this foot of mine doth tread, He lies before me: Dost thou understand me? Thou art his keeper. Hub. And I will keep him so, That he shall not offend your majesty. K. John. Death. Hub. K. John. Hub. K. John. My lord? A grave. He shall not live. Enough. I could be merry now: Hubert, I love thee; Remember.-Madam, fare you well: I'll send those powers o'er to your majesty. K. John. For England, cousin: Hubert shall be your man, attend on you With all true duty.-On toward Calais, oh! [Exeunt. SCENE IV. The same. The French King's Tent. Enter KING PHILIP, LEWIS, PANDUL.PH, and Attendants. K. Phi. So, by a roaring tempest on the flood, A whole armado of convicted sail Is scatter'd and disjoin'd from fellowship. Pand. Courage and comfort! all shall yet go well. K. Phi. What can go well, when we have run so ill? Are we not beaten? Is not Angiers lost? Arthur ta'en prisoner? divers dear friends slain? And bloody England into England gone, O'erbearing interruption, spite of France? Lew. What he hath won, that hath he fortified: So hot a speed with such advice dispos'd, Such temperate order in so fierce a cause, Doth want example; Who hath read, or heard, Of any kindred action like to this? K. Phi. Well could I bear that England had this praise, So we could find some pattern of our shame. Look, who comes here! a grave unto a soul; Const. Lo, now! now see the issue of your peace! 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; worms; And stop this gap of breath with fulsome dust, Come, grin on me; and I will think thou smil'st, 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! Which cannot hear a lady's feeble voice, Pand. Lady, you utter madness, and not sor row. 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: If I were mad, I should forget my son; Or madly think, a babe of clouts were he : I am not mad; too well, too well I feel The different plague of each calamity. K. Phi. Bind up those tresses; 0, what love I note In the fair multitude of those her hairs! Where but by chance a silver drop bath fallen, Like true, inseparable, faithful loves, Const. To England, if you will. Bind up your hairs. Const. Yes, that I will; and wherefore will I do it? I tore them from their bonds; and cried aloud, As they have given these hairs their liberty! And will again commit them to their bonds, And, father cardinal, I have heard you say, ven; If that be true, I shall see my boy again; For, since the birth of Cain, the first male child, There was not such a gracious creature born. Pand. You hold too heinous a respect of grief. [Tearing off her head-dress. When there is such disorder in my wit. O lord, my boy, my Arthur, my fair son! My life, my joy, my food, my all the world! My widow-comfort, and my sorrow's cure! [Exit. K. Phi. I fear some outrage, and I'll follow her. [Exit. Lew. There's nothing in this world can make me joy; VOL. IV. E Life is as tedious as a twice-told tale, And bitter shame hath spoil'd the sweet world's taste, That it yields nought, but shame, and bitterness. 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 clearly won: Now hear me speak, with a prophetic spirit; John hath seiz❜d Arthur; and it cannot be, Y veins, The misplac'd John should entertain an hour One minute, nay, one quiet breath of rest: A sceptre, snatch'd with an unruly hand, Must be as boisterously maintain❜d as gai d: And he, that stands upon a slippery place, Makes nice of no vile 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? [wife, Pand. You, in the right of Lady Blanch your May then make all the claim that Arthur did. Lew. And lose it, life and all, as Arthur did. Pand. How green are you, and fresh in this old world! |