Blanch. The lady Constance speaks not from her faith. But from her need.
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;
O, then, tread down my need, and faith mounts up;
Keep my need up, and faith is trodden down.
King John. The king is mov'd, and answers not to this.
Constance. O, be remov'd from him, and answer well.
Austria. Do so, king Philip; hang no more in doubt.
Bastard. Hang nothing but a calf's skin, most sweet
lout.
King Philip. I am perplex'd, and know not what to say. Pandulph. What canst thou say, but will perplex thee
If thou stand excommunicate, and curs'd?
King Philip. Good reverend father, make my person
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 link'd together
With all religious strength of sacred vows;
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,
To clap this royal bargain up of peace,-
Heaven knows, they were besmear'd and overstain'd
With slaughter's pencil; where revenge did paint
The fearful difference of incensed kings:
And shall these hands so lately purg'd of blood,
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;
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:
Out of your grace, devise, ordain, impose
Some gentle order; and then we shall be bless'd
To do your pleasure, and continue friends.
Pandulph. All form is formless, order orderless,
Save what is opposite to England's love.
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 cased lion by the mortal paw,
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.
Pandulph. So mak'st thou faith an enemy to faith;
And, like a civil war, sett'st oath to oath,
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 swor'st, is sworn against thyself,
And may not be perform'd by thyself:
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
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;
But thou hast sworn against religion;
By what thou swear'st, against the thing thon swear'st;
And mak'st an oath the surety for thy trut
Against an oath: The truth thou art unsure
To swear, swear only not to be forsworn:
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 latter vows, against thy first,
Is in thyself rebellion to thyself:
And better conquest never canst thou make,
Than arm thy constant and thy nobler parts
Against those giddy loose suggestions:
Upon which better part our prayers come in,
If thou vouchsafe them: but, if not, then know,
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!
Will not a calf's skin stop that mouth of thine?
Lewis. Father, to arms!
Upon thy wedding day?
Against the blood that thou hast married?
What, shall our feast be kept with slaughter'd men?
Shall braying trumpets, and loud churlish drums,--
Clamours of hell,-be measures to our pomp?
O, husband, hear me! ah, alack, how new
Is husband in my mouth!-even for that name,
Which till this time my tongue did ne'er pronounce,
Upon my knee I beg, go not to arms
Made hard with kneeling, I do pray to thee,
Thou virtuous Dauphin, alter not the doom
Fore-thought 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!
Lewis. I muse, your majesty doth seem so cold, When such profound respects do pull you on.
Pandulph. I will denounce a curse upon his head. King Philip. Thou shalt not need:-England, I'll fall from thee.
Constance. O fair return of banish'd majesty!
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!
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 whirl asunder, and dismember me.
Husband, I cannot pray that thou mayst win;
Uncle, I needs must pray that thou mayst lose;
Father, I may not wish the fortune thine;
Grandam, I will not wish thy wishes thrive:
Whoever wins, on that side shall I lose;
Assured loss, before the match be play'd.
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,
That nothing can allay, nothing but blood,
The blood, and dearest-valu'd blood of France.
King Philip. Thy rage shall burn thee up, and thou shalt turu
To ashes, ere our blood shall quench that fire:
Look to thyself, thou art in jeopardy.
King John. No more than he that threats.-To arms
SCENE II.-Plains near ANGIERS.
Alarums; Excursions. Enter the BASTARD, with
AUSTRIA'S head.
Bastard. Now, by my life, this day grows wondrous hot, Some airy devil hovers in the sky,
And pours down mischief. Austria's heal lie there, While Philip breathes.
Enter KING JOHN, ARTHUR, and HUBERT.
King John. Hubert, keep this boy:-Philip, make
But on, my liege: for very little pains
Will bring this labour to an happy end.
Alarums; Excursions; Retreat. Enter KING JOHN, ELINOR, ARTHUR, the BASTARD, HUBERT, and LORDS. King John. So shall it be; your grace shall stay be[TO ELINOR.
So strongly guarded.—Cousin, look not sad:
Thy grandam loves thee; and thy uncle will
As dear be to thee as thy father was.
Arthur. O, this will make my mother die with grief. King John. Cousin, [To the BASTARD,] away for Eng land; haste before:
And, ere our coming, see thou shake the bags
Of hoarding abbots; angels imprison'd
Set thou at liberty: the fat ribs of peace
Must by the hungry now be fed upon:
Use our commission in its utmost force.
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