King John/Henry VIII (Signet Classics) Page 11
Their thimbles into armed gauntlets157 change,
Their needles to lances, and their gentle hearts
To fierce and bloody inclination.
LEWIS There end thy brave, and turn thy face160 in peace:
We grant thou canst outscold161 us: fare thee well:
We hold our time too precious to be spent
With such a brabbler163.
CARDINAL PANDULPH Give me leave to speak.
BASTARD No, I will speak.
LEWIS We will attend166 to neither.
Strike up the drums, and let the tongue of war
Plead for our interest and our being here.
BASTARD Indeed your drums, being beaten, will cry out;
And so shall you, being beaten: do but start
An echo with the clamour of thy drum,
And even at hand a drum is ready braced172
That shall reverberate all as loud as thine.
Sound but another, and another shall
As loud as thine rattle the welkin's175 ear
And mock the deep-mouthed thunder: for at hand --
Not trusting to this halting177 legate here,
Whom he hath used rather for sport178 than need --
Is warlike John: and in his forehead179 sits
A bare-ribbed Death, whose office180 is this day
To feast upon whole thousands of the French.
LEWIS Strike up our drums, to find this danger out.
BASTARD And thou shalt find183 it, dauphin, do not doubt.
Exeunt [at different doors]
Act 5 Scene 3
running scene 11
Alarums. Enter King John and Hubert [at different doors]
KING JOHN How goes the day with us? O, tell me, Hubert.
HUBERT Badly, I fear. How fares your majesty?
KING JOHN This fever that hath troubled me so long
Lies heavy on me: O, my heart is sick!
Enter a Messenger
MESSENGER My lord, your valiant kinsman Falconbridge
Desires your majesty to leave the field
And send him word by me which way you go.
KING JOHN Tell him toward Swinstead8, to the abbey there.
MESSENGER Be of good comfort, for the great supply9
That was expected by the dauphin here
Are wrecked three nights ago on Goodwin Sands11.
This news was brought to Richard12 but even now:
The French fight coldly and retire themselves13.
KING JOHN Ay me, this tyrant fever burns me up,
And will not let me welcome this good news.
Set on toward Swinstead: to my litter16 straight;
Weakness possesseth me, and I am faint.
Exeunt
Act 5 Scene 4
running scene 11 continues
Enter Salisbury, Pembroke and Bigot
SALISBURY I did not think the king so stored1 with friends.
PEMBROKE Up once again2: put spirit in the French:
If they miscarry3, we miscarry too.
SALISBURY That misbegotten4 devil Falconbridge
In spite of spite5, alone upholds the day.
PEMBROKE They say King John, sore6 sick, hath left the field.
Enter Melun, wounded
MELUN Lead me to the revolts7 of England here.
SALISBURY When we were happy we had other names.
PEMBROKE It is the count Melun.
SALISBURY Wounded to death.
MELUN Fly, noble English, you are bought and sold11:
Unthread the rude eye12 of rebellion
And welcome home again discarded faith:
Seek out King John and fall before his feet:
For if the French be lords of this loud day,
He16 means to recompense the pains you take
By cutting off your heads: thus hath he sworn
And I with him, and many more with me,
Upon the altar at Saint Edmundsbury;
Even on that altar where we swore to you
Dear amity and everlasting love.
SALISBURY May this be possible? May this be true?
MELUN Have I not hideous death within my view,
Retaining but a quantity24 of life,
Which bleeds away, even as a form of wax
Resolveth from his figure26 gainst the fire?
What in the world should make me now deceive,
Since I must lose the use28 of all deceit?
Why should I then be false, since it is true
That I must die here and live hence30 by truth?
I say again, if Lewis do win the day,
He is forsworn32 if e'er those eyes of yours
Behold another daybreak in the east:
But even this night, whose black contagious breath
Already smokes35 about the burning crest
Of the old, feeble and day-wearied sun,
Even this ill night, your breathing shall expire,
Paying the fine of rated38 treachery
Even with a treacherous fine39 of all your lives,
If Lewis by your assistance win the day.
Commend me to one Hubert with your king:
The love of him, and this respect42 besides,
For that my grandsire was an Englishman,
Awakes my conscience to confess all this.
In lieu whereof45, I pray you, bear me hence
From forth the noise and rumour46 of the field,
Where I may think the remnant47 of my thoughts
In peace, and part this body and my soul
With contemplation and devout desires.
SALISBURY We do believe thee, and beshrew50 my soul,
But I do love the favour and the form51
Of this most fair occasion, by the which
We will untread53 the steps of damned flight,
And like a bated54 and retired flood,
Leaving our rankness55 and irregular course,
Stoop low within those bounds56 we have o'erlooked
And calmly run on in obedience
Even to our ocean, to our great King John.
My arm shall give thee help to bear thee hence,
For I do see the cruel pangs of death
Right in thine eye. Away, my friends! New flight61,
And happy newness, that intends old right62.
Exeunt
Act 5 Scene 5
running scene 12
Enter Lewis and his train
LEWIS The sun of heaven, methought, was loath1 to set,
But stayed and made the western welkin2 blush,
When English measure3 backward their own ground
In faint retire: O, bravely came we off4,
When with a volley of our needless5 shot,
After such bloody toil, we bid goodnight,
And wound our tott'ring7 colours clearly up,
Last in the field, and almost lords of it.
Enter a Messenger
MESSENGER Where is my prince, the dauphin?
LEWIS Here: what news?
MESSENGER The count Melun is slain: the English lords
By his persuasion are again fall'n off12,
And your supply, which you have wished so long,
Are cast away and sunk on Goodwin Sands.
LEWIS Ah, foul shrewd15 news! Beshrew thy very heart!
I did not think to be so sad tonight
As this hath made me. Who was he that said
King John did fly an hour or two before
The stumbling19 night did part our weary powers?
MESSENGER Whoever spoke it, it is true, my lord.
LEWIS Well: keep good quarter21 and good care tonight:
The day shall not be up so soon as I,
To try the fair adventure23 of tomorrow.
Exeunt
Act 5 Scene 6
running scene 13
Enter [the] Bastard and Hubert, severally
HUBERT Who's there? Speak, ho! Sp
eak quickly, or I shoot.
BASTARD A friend. What art thou?
HUBERT Of the part3 of England.
BASTARD Whither dost thou go?
HUBERT What's that to thee? Why may not I demand
Of thine affairs, as well as thou of mine?
BASTARD Hubert, I think?
HUBERT Thou hast a perfect8 thought:
I will upon all hazards9 well believe
Thou art my friend, that know'st my tongue so well.
Who art thou?
BASTARD Who thou wilt: and if thou please,
Thou mayst befriend me so much as to think
I come one way of14 the Plantagenets.
HUBERT Unkind remembrance15! Thou and endless night
Have done me shame: brave soldier, pardon me,
That any accent breaking17 from thy tongue
Should scape18 the true acquaintance of mine ear.
BASTARD Come, come: sans compliment: what news abroad19?
HUBERT Why, here walk I in the black brow of night,
To find you out21.
BASTARD Brief22, then: and what's the news?
HUBERT O my sweet sir, news fitting to the night,
Black, fearful, comfortless and horrible.
BASTARD Show me the very wound25 of this ill news:
I am no woman, I'll not swoon at it.
HUBERT The king, I fear, is poisoned by a monk:
I left him almost speechless, and broke out28
To acquaint you with this evil, that you might
The better arm you to the sudden time30,
Than if you had at leisure31 known of this.
BASTARD How did he take it? Who did taste32 to him?
HUBERT A monk, I tell you, a resolved villain,
Whose bowels34 suddenly burst out: the king
Yet speaks and peradventure35 may recover.
BASTARD Who didst thou leave to tend his majesty?
HUBERT Why, know you not? The lords are all come back,
And brought Prince Henry38 in their company,
At whose request the king hath pardoned them,
And they are all about his majesty.
BASTARD Withhold thine indignation, mighty heaven,
And tempt us not to bear above our power42.
I'll tell thee, Hubert, half my power43 this night,
Passing these flats44, are taken by the tide:
These Lincoln Washes45 have devoured them:
Myself, well mounted, hardly46 have escaped.
Away before47: conduct me to the king:
I doubt he will be dead or ere48 I come.
Exeunt
Act 5 Scene 7
running scene 14
Enter Prince Henry, Salisbury and Bigot
PRINCE HENRY It is too late: the life of all his blood
Is touched corruptibly, and his pure2 brain,
Which some suppose the soul's frail dwelling-house,
Doth by the idle4 comments that it makes
Foretell the ending of mortality.
Enter Pembroke
PEMBROKE His highness yet doth speak, and holds belief
That, being brought into the open air,
It would allay the burning quality
Of that fell9 poison which assaileth him.
PRINCE HENRY Let him be brought into the orchard10 here.
[Exit Bigot]
Doth he still rage11?
PEMBROKE He is more patient
Than when you left him; even now he sung.
PRINCE HENRY O vanity14 of sickness! Fierce extremes
In their continuance will not feel themselves15.
Death, having preyed upon the outward parts,
Leaves them invisible17, and his siege is now
Against the mind, the which he pricks and wounds
With many legions19 of strange fantasies,
Which, in their throng and press to that last hold20,
Confound21 themselves. 'Tis strange that death should sing.
I am the cygnet to this pale faint swan22,
Who chants a doleful hymn to his own death,
And from the organ-pipe of frailty sings
His soul and body to their lasting rest.
SALISBURY Be of good comfort, Prince, for you are born
To set a form upon that indigest27
Which he hath left so shapeless and so rude28.
King John [is] brought in
KING JOHN Ay, marry, now my soul hath elbow-room29:
It would not out at windows nor at doors:
There is so hot a summer in my bosom
That all my bowels crumble up to dust:
I am a scribbled form33, drawn with a pen
Upon a parchment, and against this fire
Do I shrink up.
PRINCE HENRY How fares your majesty?
KING JOHN Poisoned, ill fare: dead, forsook37, cast off:
And none of you will bid the winter come
To thrust his icy fingers in my maw39,
Nor let my kingdom's rivers take their course
Through my burned bosom, nor entreat the north41
To make his bleak winds kiss my parched lips
And comfort me with cold. I do not ask you much,
I beg cold comfort: and you are so strait44
And so ingrateful45, you deny me that.
PRINCE HENRY O that there were some virtue46 in my tears,
That might relieve you!
KING JOHN The salt in them is hot.
Within me is a hell, and there the poison
Is, as a fiend, confined to tyrannize
On unreprievable condemned blood.
Enter [the] Bastard
BASTARD O, I am scalded with my violent motion52
And spleen53 of speed to see your majesty!
KING JOHN O cousin, thou art come to set54 mine eye:
The tackle55 of my heart is cracked and burnt,
And all the shrouds56 wherewith my life should sail
Are turned to one thread, one little hair:
My heart hath one poor string to stay58 it by,
Which holds but till thy news be uttered:
And then all this thou see'st is but a clod60
And module of confounded61 royalty.
BASTARD The dauphin is preparing hitherward62,
Where heaven he63 knows how we shall answer him:
For in a night the best part of my power,
As I upon advantage did remove65,
Were in the Washes all unwarily
Devoured by the unexpected flood67.
King John dies
SALISBURY You breathe these dead68 news in as dead an ear.--
To King John
My liege, my lord!-- But now a king, now thus69.
PRINCE HENRY Even so70 must I run on, and even so stop.
What surety of the world, what hope, what stay71,
When this was now a king, and now is clay?
To King John
BASTARD Art thou gone so? I do but stay behind
To do the office for thee of revenge,
And then my soul shall wait on75 thee to heaven,
As it on earth hath been thy servant still76.--
To the Lords
Now, now, you stars that move in your right spheres77,
Where be your powers? Show now your mended faiths,
And instantly return with me again,
To push destruction and perpetual shame
Out of the weak door of our fainting land:
Straight82 let us seek, or straight we shall be sought:
The dauphin rages at our very heels.
SALISBURY It seems you know not, then, so much as we:
The Cardinal Pandulph is within at rest,
Who half an hour since came from the dauphin,
And brings from him such offers of our peace
As we with honour and respect88 may take,
With purpose presently89 to leave this war.
Ourselves well sinewed91 to our defence.
SALISBURY Nay, 'tis in a manner done already,
For many carriages93 he hath dispatched
To the seaside, and put his cause and quarrel
To the disposing95 of the cardinal,
With whom yourself, myself and other lords,
If you think meet, this afternoon will post97
To consummate98 this business happily.
BASTARD Let it be so.-- And you, my noble prince,
With other princes100 that may best be spared,
Shall wait upon101 your father's funeral.
PRINCE HENRY At Worcester must his body be interred;
For so he willed it.
BASTARD Thither shall it then,
And happily105 may your sweet self put on
The lineal state106 and glory of the land,
To whom with all submission, on my knee
I do bequeath108 my faithful services
He kneels
And true subjection everlastingly.
SALISBURY And the like tender110 of our love we make,
The Lords kneel
To rest without a spot111 for ever more.
PRINCE HENRY I have a kind soul that would give thanks
He weeps
And knows not how to do it but with tears.
Rising
BASTARD O, let us pay the time but needful woe114,
Since it hath been beforehand115 with our griefs.
This England never did, nor never shall,
Lie at the proud foot of a conqueror,
But118 when it first did help to wound itself.
Now these her princes are come home again,
Come the three corners120 of the world in arms,
And we shall shock them. Nought shall make us rue121,
If England to itself do rest122 but true.
Exeunt
TEXTUAL NOTES
F = First Folio text of 1623, the only authority for the play F2 = a correction introduced in the Second Folio text of 1632