1    Gone to be married! gone to swear a peace!
2    False blood to false blood join'd! gone to be friends!
3    Shall Lewis have Blanch, and Blanch those provinces?
4    It is not so; thou hast misspoke, misheard:
5    Be well advised, tell o'er thy tale again:
6    It cannot be; thou dost but say 'tis so:
7    I trust I may not trust thee; for thy word
8    Is but the vain breath of a common man:
9    Believe me, I do not believe thee, man;
10   I have a king's oath to the contrary.
11   Thou shalt be punish'd for thus frighting me,
12   For I am sick and capable of fears,
13   Oppress'd with wrongs and therefore full of fears,
14   A widow, husbandless, subject to fears,
15   A woman, naturally born to fears;
16   And though thou now confess thou didst but jest,
17   With my vex'd spirits I cannot take a truce,
18   But they will quake and tremble all this day.
19   What dost thou mean by shaking of thy head?
20   Why dost thou look so sadly on my son?
21   What means that hand upon that breast of thine?
22   Why holds thine eye that lamentable rheum,
23   Like a proud river peering o'er his bounds?
24   Be these sad signs confirmers of thy words?
25   Then speak again; not all thy former tale,
26   But this one word, whether thy tale be true.

27   As true as I believe you think them false
28   That give you cause to prove my saying true.

29   O, if thou teach me to believe this sorrow,
30   Teach thou this sorrow how to make me die,
31   And let belief and life encounter so
32   As doth the fury of two desperate men
33   Which in the very meeting fall and die.
34   Lewis marry Blanch! O boy, then where art thou?
35   France friend with England, what becomes of me?
36   Fellow, be gone: I cannot brook thy sight:
37   This news hath made thee a most ugly man.

38   What other harm have I, good lady, done,
39   But spoke the harm that is by others done?

40   Which harm within itself so heinous is
41   As it makes harmful all that speak of it.

42   I do beseech you, madam, be content.

43   If thou, that bid'st me be content, wert grim,
44   Ugly and slanderous to thy mother's womb,
45   Full of unpleasing blots and sightless stains,
46   Lame, foolish, crooked, swart, prodigious,
47   Patch'd with foul moles and eye-offending marks,
48   I would not care, I then would be content,
49   For then I should not love thee, no, nor thou
50   Become thy great birth nor deserve a crown.
51   But thou art fair, and at thy birth, dear boy,
52   Nature and Fortune join'd to make thee great:
53   Of Nature's gifts thou mayst with lilies boast,
54   And with the half-blown rose. But Fortune, O,
55   She is corrupted, changed and won from thee;
56   She adulterates hourly with thine uncle John,
57   And with her golden hand hath pluck'd on France
58   To tread down fair respect of sovereignty,
59   And made his majesty the bawd to theirs.
60   France is a bawd to Fortune and King John,
61   That strumpet Fortune, that usurping John!
62   Tell me, thou fellow, is not France forsworn?
63   Envenom him with words, or get thee gone
64   And leave those woes alone which I alone
65   Am bound to under-bear.

66   Pardon me, madam,
67   I may not go without you to the kings.

68   Thou mayst, thou shalt; I will not go with thee:
69   I will instruct my sorrows to be proud;
70   For grief is proud and makes his owner stoop.
71   To me and to the state of my great grief
72   Let kings assemble; for my grief's so great
73   That no supporter but the huge firm earth
74   Can hold it up: here I and sorrows sit;
75   Here is my throne, bid kings come bow to it.

76   'Tis true, fair daughter; and this blessed day
77   Ever in France shall be kept festival:
78   To solemnize this day the glorious sun
79   Stays in his course and plays the alchemist,
80   Turning with splendor of his precious eye
81   The meagre cloddy earth to glittering gold:
82   The yearly course that brings this day about
83   Shall never see it but a holiday.

84   A wicked day, and not a holy day!
Rising
85   What hath this day deserved? what hath it done,
86   That it in golden letters should be set
87   Among the high tides in the calendar?
88   Nay, rather turn this day out of the week,
89   This day of shame, oppression, perjury.
90   Or, if it must stand still, let wives with child
91   Pray that their burthens may not fall this day,
92   Lest that their hopes prodigiously be cross'd:
93   But on this day let seamen fear no wreck;
94   No bargains break that are not this day made:
95   This day, all things begun come to ill end,
96   Yea, faith itself to hollow falsehood change!

97   By heaven, lady, you shall have no cause
98   To curse the fair proceedings of this day:
99   Have I not pawn'd to you my majesty?

100  You have beguiled me with a counterfeit
101  Resembling majesty, which, being touch'd and tried,
102  Proves valueless: you are forsworn, forsworn;
103  You came in arms to spill mine enemies' blood,
104  But now in arms you strengthen it with yours:
105  The grappling vigour and rough frown of war
106  Is cold in amity and painted peace,
107  And our oppression hath made up this league.
108  Arm, arm, you heavens, against these perjured kings!
109  A widow cries; be husband to me, heavens!
110  Let not the hours of this ungodly day
111  Wear out the day in peace; but, ere sunset,
112  Set armed discord 'twixt these perjured kings!
113  Hear me, O, hear me!

114  Lady Constance, peace!

115  War! war! no peace! peace is to me a war
116  O Lymoges! O Austria! thou dost shame
117  That bloody spoil: thou slave, thou wretch, thou coward!
118  Thou little valiant, great in villany!
119  Thou ever strong upon the stronger side!
120  Thou Fortune's champion that dost never fight
121  But when her humorous ladyship is by
122  To teach thee safety! thou art perjured too,
123  And soothest up greatness. What a fool art thou,
124  A ramping fool, to brag and stamp and swear
125  Upon my party! Thou cold-blooded slave,
126  Hast thou not spoke like thunder on my side,
127  Been sworn my soldier, bidding me depend
128  Upon thy stars, thy fortune and thy strength,
129  And dost thou now fall over to my fores?
130  Thou wear a lion's hide! doff it for shame,
131  And hang a calf's-skin on those recreant limbs.

132  O, that a man should speak those words to me!

133  And hang a calf's-skin on those recreant limbs.

134  Thou darest not say so, villain, for thy life.

135  And hang a calf's-skin on those recreant limbs.

136  We like not this; thou dost forget thyself.

137  Here comes the holy legate of the pope.

138  Hail, you anointed deputies of heaven!
139  To thee, King John, my holy errand is.
140  I Pandulph, of fair Milan cardinal,
141  And from Pope Innocent the legate here,
142  Do in his name religiously demand
143  Why thou against the church, our holy mother,
144  So wilfully dost spurn; and force perforce
145  Keep Stephen Langton, chosen archbishop
146  Of Canterbury, from that holy see?
147  This, in our foresaid holy father's name,
148  Pope Innocent, I do demand of thee.

149  What earthy name to interrogatories
150  Can task the free breath of a sacred king?
151  Thou canst not, cardinal, devise a name
152  So slight, unworthy and ridiculous,
153  To charge me to an answer, as the pope.
154  Tell him this tale; and from the mouth of England
155  Add thus much more, that no Italian priest
156  Shall tithe or toll in our dominions;
157  But as we, under heaven, are supreme head,
158  So under Him that great supremacy,
159  Where we do reign, we will alone uphold,
160  Without the assistance of a mortal hand:
161  So tell the pope, all reverence set apart
162  To him and his usurp'd authority.

163  Brother of England, you blaspheme in this.

164  Though you and all the kings of Christendom
165  Are led so grossly by this meddling priest,
166  Dreading the curse that money may buy out;
167  And by the merit of vile gold, dross, dust,
168  Purchase corrupted pardon of a man,
169  Who in that sale sells pardon from himself,
170  Though you and all the rest so grossly led
171  This juggling witchcraft with revenue cherish,
172  Yet I alone, alone do me oppose
173  Against the pope and count his friends my foes.

174  Then, by the lawful power that I have,
175  Thou shalt stand cursed and excommunicate.
176  And blessed shall he be that doth revolt
177  From his allegiance to an heretic;
178  And meritorious shall that hand be call'd,
179  Canonized and worshipped as a saint,
180  That takes away by any secret course
181  Thy hateful life.

182  O, lawful let it be
183  That I have room with Rome to curse awhile!
184  Good father cardinal, cry thou amen
185  To my keen curses; for without my wrong
186  There is no tongue hath power to curse him right.

187  There's law and warrant, lady, for my curse.

188  And for mine too: when law can do no right,
189  Let it be lawful that law bar no wrong:
190  Law cannot give my child his kingdom here,
191  For he that holds his kingdom holds the law;
192  Therefore, since law itself is perfect wrong,
193  How can the law forbid my tongue to curse?

194  Philip of France, on peril of a curse,
195  Let go the hand of that arch-heretic;
196  And raise the power of France upon his head,
197  Unless he do submit himself to Rome.

198  Look'st thou pale, France? do not let go thy hand.

199  Look to that, devil; lest that France repent,
200  And by disjoining hands, hell lose a soul.

201  King Philip, listen to the cardinal.

202  And hang a calf's-skin on his recreant limbs.

203  Well, ruffian, I must pocket up these wrongs, Because--

204  Your breeches best may carry them.

205  Philip, what say'st thou to the cardinal?

206  What should he say, but as the cardinal?

207  Bethink you, father; for the difference
208  Is purchase of a heavy curse from Rome,
209  Or the light loss of England for a friend:
210  Forego the easier.

211  That's the curse of Rome.

212  O Lewis, stand fast! the devil tempts thee here
213  In likeness of a new untrimmed bride.

214  The Lady Constance speaks not from her faith,
215  But from her need.

216  O, if thou grant my need,
217  Which only lives but by the death of faith,
218  That need must needs infer this principle,
219  That faith would live again by death of need.
220  O then, tread down my need, and faith mounts up;
221  Keep my need up, and faith is trodden down!

222  The king is moved, and answers not to this.

223  O, be removed from him, and answer well!

224  Do so, King Philip; hang no more in doubt.

225  Hang nothing but a calf's-skin, most sweet lout.

226  I am perplex'd, and know not what to say.

227  What canst thou say but will perplex thee more,
228  If thou stand excommunicate and cursed?

229  Good reverend father, make my person yours,
230  And tell me how you would bestow yourself.
231  This royal hand and mine are newly knit,
232  And the conjunction of our inward souls
233  Married in league, coupled and linked together
234  With all religious strength of sacred vows;
235  The latest breath that gave the sound of words
236  Was deep-sworn faith, peace, amity, true love
237  Between our kingdoms and our royal selves,
238  And even before this truce, but new before,
239  No longer than we well could wash our hands
240  To clap this royal bargain up of peace,
241  Heaven knows, they were besmear'd and over-stain'd
242  With slaughter's pencil, where revenge did paint
243  The fearful difference of incensed kings:
244  And shall these hands, so lately purged of blood,
245  So newly join'd in love, so strong in both,
246  Unyoke this seizure and this kind regreet?
247  Play fast and loose with faith? so jest with heaven,
248  Make such unconstant children of ourselves,
249  As now again to snatch our palm from palm,
250  Unswear faith sworn, and on the marriage-bed
251  Of smiling peace to march a bloody host,
252  And make a riot on the gentle brow
253  Of true sincerity? O, holy sir,
254  My reverend father, let it not be so!
255  Out of your grace, devise, ordain, impose
256  Some gentle order; and then we shall be blest
257  To do your pleasure and continue friends.

258  All form is formless, order orderless,
259  Save what is opposite to England's love.
260  Therefore to arms! be champion of our church,
261  Or let the church, our mother, breathe her curse,
262  A mother's curse, on her revolting son.
263  France, thou mayst hold a serpent by the tongue,
264  A chafed lion by the mortal paw,
265  A fasting tiger safer by the tooth,
266  Than keep in peace that hand which thou dost hold.

267  I may disjoin my hand, but not my faith.

268  So makest thou faith an enemy to faith;
269  And like a civil war set'st oath to oath,
270  Thy tongue against thy tongue. O, let thy vow
271  First made to heaven, first be to heaven perform'd,
272  That is, to be the champion of our church!
273  What since thou sworest is sworn against thyself
274  And may not be performed by thyself,
275  For that which thou hast sworn to do amiss
276  Is not amiss when it is truly done,
277  And being not done, where doing tends to ill,
278  The truth is then most done not doing it:
279  The better act of purposes mistook
280  Is to mistake again; though indirect,
281  Yet indirection thereby grows direct,
282  And falsehood falsehood cures, as fire cools fire
283  Within the scorched veins of one new-burn'd.
284  It is religion that doth make vows kept;
285  But thou hast sworn against religion,
286  By what thou swear'st against the thing thou swear'st,
287  And makest an oath the surety for thy truth
288  Against an oath: the truth thou art unsure
289  To swear, swears only not to be forsworn;
290  Else what a mockery should it be to swear!
291  But thou dost swear only to be forsworn;
292  And most forsworn, to keep what thou dost swear.
293  Therefore thy later vows against thy first
294  Is in thyself rebellion to thyself;
295  And better conquest never canst thou make
296  Than arm thy constant and thy nobler parts
297  Against these giddy loose suggestions:
298  Upon which better part our prayers come in,
299  If thou vouchsafe them. But if not, then know
300  The peril of our curses light on thee
301  So heavy as thou shalt not shake them off,
302  But in despair die under their black weight.

303  Rebellion, flat rebellion!

304  Will't not be?
305  Will not a calfs-skin stop that mouth of thine?

306  Father, to arms!

307  Upon thy wedding-day?
308  Against the blood that thou hast married?
309  What, shall our feast be kept with slaughter'd men?
310  Shall braying trumpets and loud churlish drums,
311  Clamours of hell, be measures to our pomp?
312  O husband, hear me! ay, alack, how new
313  Is husband in my mouth! even for that name,
314  Which till this time my tongue did ne'er pronounce,
315  Upon my knee I beg, go not to arms
316  Against mine uncle.

317  O, upon my knee,
318  Made hard with kneeling, I do pray to thee,
319  Thou virtuous Dauphin, alter not the doom
320  Forethought by heaven!

321  Now shall I see thy love: what motive may
322  Be stronger with thee than the name of wife?

323  That which upholdeth him that thee upholds,
324  His honour: O, thine honour, Lewis, thine honour!

325  I muse your majesty doth seem so cold,
326  When such profound respects do pull you on.

327  I will denounce a curse upon his head.

328  Thou shalt not need. England, I will fall from thee.

329  O fair return of banish'd majesty!

330  O foul revolt of French inconstancy!

331  France, thou shalt rue this hour within this hour.

332  Old Time the clock-setter, that bald sexton Time,
333  Is it as he will? well then, France shall rue.

334  The sun's o'ercast with blood: fair day, adieu!
335  Which is the side that I must go withal?
336  I am with both: each army hath a hand;
337  And in their rage, I having hold of both,
338  They swirl asunder and dismember me.
339  Husband, I cannot pray that thou mayst win;
340  Uncle, I needs must pray that thou mayst lose;
341  Father, I may not wish the fortune thine;
342  Grandam, I will not wish thy fortunes thrive:
343  Whoever wins, on that side shall I lose
344  Assured loss before the match be play'd.

345  Lady, with me, with me thy fortune lies.

346  There where my fortune lives, there my life dies.

347  Cousin, go draw our puissance together.
Exit BASTARD
348  France, I am burn'd up with inflaming wrath;
349  A rage whose heat hath this condition,
350  That nothing can allay, nothing but blood,
351  The blood, and dearest-valued blood, of France.

352  Thy rage sham burn thee up, and thou shalt turn
353  To ashes, ere our blood shall quench that fire:
354  Look to thyself, thou art in jeopardy.

355  No more than he that threats. To arms let's hie!