Speeches (Lines) for King Phillip in "History of King John"

Total: 43
print
# Act / Scene Speech text
1 II / 1
  • Well then, to work: our cannon shall be bent
    Against the brows of this resis...
  • Well then, to work: our cannon shall be bent
    Against the brows of this resisting town.
    Call for our chiefest men of discipline,
    To cull the plots of best advantages:
    We'll lay before this town our royal bones,
    Wade to the market-place in Frenchmen's blood,
    But we will make it subject to this boy.
  • Lymoges. The peace of heaven is theirs that lift their swords
    In such a just and charitable war.

    King Phillip. Well then, to work: our cannon shall be bent
    Against the brows of this resisting town.
    Call for our chiefest men of discipline,
    To cull the plots of best advantages:
    We'll lay before this town our royal bones,
    Wade to the market-place in Frenchmen's blood,
    But we will make it subject to this boy.

2 II / 1
  • A wonder, lady! lo, upon thy wish,
    Our messenger Chatillon is arrived!
    W...
  • A wonder, lady! lo, upon thy wish,
    Our messenger Chatillon is arrived!
    What England says, say briefly, gentle lord;
    We coldly pause for thee; Chatillon, speak.
  • Constance. Stay for an answer to your embassy,
    Lest unadvised you stain your swords with blood:
    My Lord Chatillon may from England bring,
    That right in peace which here we urge in war,
    And then we shall repent each drop of blood
    That hot rash haste so indirectly shed.

    King Phillip. A wonder, lady! lo, upon thy wish,
    Our messenger Chatillon is arrived!
    What England says, say briefly, gentle lord;
    We coldly pause for thee; Chatillon, speak.

3 II / 1
  • How much unlook'd for is this expedition!
  • How much unlook'd for is this expedition!
  • Chatillon. Then turn your forces from this paltry siege
    And stir them up against a mightier task.
    England, impatient of your just demands,
    Hath put himself in arms: the adverse winds,
    Whose leisure I have stay'd, have given him time
    To land his legions all as soon as I;
    His marches are expedient to this town,
    His forces strong, his soldiers confident.
    With him along is come the mother-queen,
    An Ate, stirring him to blood and strife;
    With her her niece, the Lady Blanch of Spain;
    With them a bastard of the king's deceased,
    And all the unsettled humours of the land,
    Rash, inconsiderate, fiery voluntaries,
    With ladies' faces and fierce dragons' spleens,
    Have sold their fortunes at their native homes,
    Bearing their birthrights proudly on their backs,
    To make hazard of new fortunes here:
    In brief, a braver choice of dauntless spirits
    Than now the English bottoms have waft o'er
    Did nearer float upon the swelling tide,
    To do offence and scath in Christendom.
    [Drum beats]
    The interruption of their churlish drums
    Cuts off more circumstance: they are at hand,
    To parley or to fight; therefore prepare.

    King Phillip. How much unlook'd for is this expedition!

4 II / 1
  • Peace be to England, if that war return
    From France to England, there to liv...
  • Peace be to England, if that war return
    From France to England, there to live in peace.
    England we love; and for that England's sake
    With burden of our armour here we sweat.
    This toil of ours should be a work of thine;
    But thou from loving England art so far,
    That thou hast under-wrought his lawful king
    Cut off the sequence of posterity,
    Out-faced infant state and done a rape
    Upon the maiden virtue of the crown.
    Look here upon thy brother Geffrey's face;
    These eyes, these brows, were moulded out of his:
    This little abstract doth contain that large
    Which died in Geffrey, and the hand of time
    Shall draw this brief into as huge a volume.
    That Geffrey was thy elder brother born,
    And this his son; England was Geffrey's right
    And this is Geffrey's: in the name of God
    How comes it then that thou art call'd a king,
    When living blood doth in these temples beat,
    Which owe the crown that thou o'ermasterest?
  • King John. Peace be to France, if France in peace permit
    Our just and lineal entrance to our own;
    If not, bleed France, and peace ascend to heaven,
    Whiles we, God's wrathful agent, do correct
    Their proud contempt that beats His peace to heaven.

    King Phillip. Peace be to England, if that war return
    From France to England, there to live in peace.
    England we love; and for that England's sake
    With burden of our armour here we sweat.
    This toil of ours should be a work of thine;
    But thou from loving England art so far,
    That thou hast under-wrought his lawful king
    Cut off the sequence of posterity,
    Out-faced infant state and done a rape
    Upon the maiden virtue of the crown.
    Look here upon thy brother Geffrey's face;
    These eyes, these brows, were moulded out of his:
    This little abstract doth contain that large
    Which died in Geffrey, and the hand of time
    Shall draw this brief into as huge a volume.
    That Geffrey was thy elder brother born,
    And this his son; England was Geffrey's right
    And this is Geffrey's: in the name of God
    How comes it then that thou art call'd a king,
    When living blood doth in these temples beat,
    Which owe the crown that thou o'ermasterest?

5 II / 1
  • From that supernal judge, that stirs good thoughts
    In any breast of strong a...
  • From that supernal judge, that stirs good thoughts
    In any breast of strong authority,
    To look into the blots and stains of right:
    That judge hath made me guardian to this boy:
    Under whose warrant I impeach thy wrong
    And by whose help I mean to chastise it.
  • King John. From whom hast thou this great commission, France,
    To draw my answer from thy articles?

    King Phillip. From that supernal judge, that stirs good thoughts
    In any breast of strong authority,
    To look into the blots and stains of right:
    That judge hath made me guardian to this boy:
    Under whose warrant I impeach thy wrong
    And by whose help I mean to chastise it.

6 II / 1
  • Excuse; it is to beat usurping down.
  • Excuse; it is to beat usurping down.
  • King John. Alack, thou dost usurp authority.

    King Phillip. Excuse; it is to beat usurping down.

7 II / 1
  • Lewis, determine what we shall do straight.
  • Lewis, determine what we shall do straight.
  • Lymoges. What craker is this same that deafs our ears
    With this abundance of superfluous breath?

    King Phillip. Lewis, determine what we shall do straight.

8 II / 1
  • Peace, lady! pause, or be more temperate:
    It ill beseems this presence to cr...
  • Peace, lady! pause, or be more temperate:
    It ill beseems this presence to cry aim
    To these ill-tuned repetitions.
    Some trumpet summon hither to the walls
    These men of Angiers: let us hear them speak
    Whose title they admit, Arthur's or John's.
  • Constance. Ay, who doubts that? a will! a wicked will:
    A woman's will; a canker'd grandam's will!

    King Phillip. Peace, lady! pause, or be more temperate:
    It ill beseems this presence to cry aim
    To these ill-tuned repetitions.
    Some trumpet summon hither to the walls
    These men of Angiers: let us hear them speak
    Whose title they admit, Arthur's or John's.

9 II / 1
  • 'Tis France, for England.
  • 'Tis France, for England.
  • First Citizen. Who is it that hath warn'd us to the walls?

    King Phillip. 'Tis France, for England.

10 II / 1
  • You loving men of Angiers, Arthur's subjects,
    Our trumpet call'd you to this...
  • You loving men of Angiers, Arthur's subjects,
    Our trumpet call'd you to this gentle parle--
  • King John. England, for itself.
    You men of Angiers, and my loving subjects--

    King Phillip. You loving men of Angiers, Arthur's subjects,
    Our trumpet call'd you to this gentle parle--

11 II / 1
  • When I have said, make answer to us both.
    Lo, in this right hand, whose prot...
  • When I have said, make answer to us both.
    Lo, in this right hand, whose protection
    Is most divinely vow'd upon the right
    Of him it holds, stands young Plantagenet,
    Son to the elder brother of this man,
    And king o'er him and all that he enjoys:
    For this down-trodden equity, we tread
    In warlike march these greens before your town,
    Being no further enemy to you
    Than the constraint of hospitable zeal
    In the relief of this oppressed child
    Religiously provokes. Be pleased then
    To pay that duty which you truly owe
    To that owes it, namely this young prince:
    And then our arms, like to a muzzled bear,
    Save in aspect, hath all offence seal'd up;
    Our cannons' malice vainly shall be spent
    Against the invulnerable clouds of heaven;
    And with a blessed and unvex'd retire,
    With unhack'd swords and helmets all unbruised,
    We will bear home that lusty blood again
    Which here we came to spout against your town,
    And leave your children, wives and you in peace.
    But if you fondly pass our proffer'd offer,
    'Tis not the roundure of your old-faced walls
    Can hide you from our messengers of war,
    Though all these English and their discipline
    Were harbour'd in their rude circumference.
    Then tell us, shall your city call us lord,
    In that behalf which we have challenged it?
    Or shall we give the signal to our rage
    And stalk in blood to our possession?
  • King John. For our advantage; therefore hear us first.
    These flags of France, that are advanced here
    Before the eye and prospect of your town,
    Have hither march'd to your endamagement:
    The cannons have their bowels full of wrath,
    And ready mounted are they to spit forth
    Their iron indignation 'gainst your walls:
    All preparation for a bloody siege
    All merciless proceeding by these French
    Confronts your city's eyes, your winking gates;
    And but for our approach those sleeping stones,
    That as a waist doth girdle you about,
    By the compulsion of their ordinance
    By this time from their fixed beds of lime
    Had been dishabited, and wide havoc made
    For bloody power to rush upon your peace.
    But on the sight of us your lawful king,
    Who painfully with much expedient march
    Have brought a countercheque before your gates,
    To save unscratch'd your city's threatened cheeks,
    Behold, the French amazed vouchsafe a parle;
    And now, instead of bullets wrapp'd in fire,
    To make a shaking fever in your walls,
    They shoot but calm words folded up in smoke,
    To make a faithless error in your ears:
    Which trust accordingly, kind citizens,
    And let us in, your king, whose labour'd spirits,
    Forwearied in this action of swift speed,
    Crave harbourage within your city walls.

    King Phillip. When I have said, make answer to us both.
    Lo, in this right hand, whose protection
    Is most divinely vow'd upon the right
    Of him it holds, stands young Plantagenet,
    Son to the elder brother of this man,
    And king o'er him and all that he enjoys:
    For this down-trodden equity, we tread
    In warlike march these greens before your town,
    Being no further enemy to you
    Than the constraint of hospitable zeal
    In the relief of this oppressed child
    Religiously provokes. Be pleased then
    To pay that duty which you truly owe
    To that owes it, namely this young prince:
    And then our arms, like to a muzzled bear,
    Save in aspect, hath all offence seal'd up;
    Our cannons' malice vainly shall be spent
    Against the invulnerable clouds of heaven;
    And with a blessed and unvex'd retire,
    With unhack'd swords and helmets all unbruised,
    We will bear home that lusty blood again
    Which here we came to spout against your town,
    And leave your children, wives and you in peace.
    But if you fondly pass our proffer'd offer,
    'Tis not the roundure of your old-faced walls
    Can hide you from our messengers of war,
    Though all these English and their discipline
    Were harbour'd in their rude circumference.
    Then tell us, shall your city call us lord,
    In that behalf which we have challenged it?
    Or shall we give the signal to our rage
    And stalk in blood to our possession?

12 II / 1
  • As many and as well-born bloods as those,--
  • As many and as well-born bloods as those,--
  • King John. To verify our title with their lives.

    King Phillip. As many and as well-born bloods as those,--

13 II / 1
  • Stand in his face to contradict his claim.
  • Stand in his face to contradict his claim.
  • Philip the Bastard. Some bastards too.

    King Phillip. Stand in his face to contradict his claim.

14 II / 1
  • Amen, amen! Mount, chevaliers! to arms!
  • Amen, amen! Mount, chevaliers! to arms!
  • King John. Then God forgive the sin of all those souls
    That to their everlasting residence,
    Before the dew of evening fall, shall fleet,
    In dreadful trial of our kingdom's king!

    King Phillip. Amen, amen! Mount, chevaliers! to arms!

15 II / 1
  • It shall be so; and at the other hill
    Command the rest to stand. God and our...
  • It shall be so; and at the other hill
    Command the rest to stand. God and our right!
    [Exeunt]
    [Here after excursions, enter the Herald of France,]
    with trumpets, to the gates]
  • Philip the Bastard. Speed then, to take advantage of the field.

    King Phillip. It shall be so; and at the other hill
    Command the rest to stand. God and our right!
    [Exeunt]
    [Here after excursions, enter the Herald of France,]
    with trumpets, to the gates]

16 II / 1
  • England, thou hast not saved one drop of blood,
    In this hot trial, more than...
  • England, thou hast not saved one drop of blood,
    In this hot trial, more than we of France;
    Rather, lost more. And by this hand I swear,
    That sways the earth this climate overlooks,
    Before we will lay down our just-borne arms,
    We'll put thee down, 'gainst whom these arms we bear,
    Or add a royal number to the dead,
    Gracing the scroll that tells of this war's loss
    With slaughter coupled to the name of kings.
  • King John. France, hast thou yet more blood to cast away?
    Say, shall the current of our right run on?
    Whose passage, vex'd with thy impediment,
    Shall leave his native channel and o'erswell
    With course disturb'd even thy confining shores,
    Unless thou let his silver water keep
    A peaceful progress to the ocean.

    King Phillip. England, thou hast not saved one drop of blood,
    In this hot trial, more than we of France;
    Rather, lost more. And by this hand I swear,
    That sways the earth this climate overlooks,
    Before we will lay down our just-borne arms,
    We'll put thee down, 'gainst whom these arms we bear,
    Or add a royal number to the dead,
    Gracing the scroll that tells of this war's loss
    With slaughter coupled to the name of kings.

17 II / 1
  • Speak, citizens, for England; who's your king?
  • Speak, citizens, for England; who's your king?
  • King John. Whose party do the townsmen yet admit?

    King Phillip. Speak, citizens, for England; who's your king?

18 II / 1
  • Know him in us, that here hold up his right.
  • Know him in us, that here hold up his right.
  • First Citizen. The king of England; when we know the king.

    King Phillip. Know him in us, that here hold up his right.

19 II / 1
  • Let it be so. Say, where will you assault?
  • Let it be so. Say, where will you assault?
  • Philip the Bastard. An if thou hast the mettle of a king,
    Being wronged as we are by this peevish town,
    Turn thou the mouth of thy artillery,
    As we will ours, against these saucy walls;
    And when that we have dash'd them to the ground,
    Why then defy each other and pell-mell
    Make work upon ourselves, for heaven or hell.

    King Phillip. Let it be so. Say, where will you assault?

20 II / 1
  • Our thunder from the south
    Shall rain their drift of bullets on this town.
  • Our thunder from the south
    Shall rain their drift of bullets on this town.
  • Lymoges. I from the north.

    King Phillip. Our thunder from the south
    Shall rain their drift of bullets on this town.

21 II / 1
  • Speak England first, that hath been forward first
    To speak unto this city: w...
  • Speak England first, that hath been forward first
    To speak unto this city: what say you?
  • First Citizen. Why answer not the double majesties
    This friendly treaty of our threaten'd town?

    King Phillip. Speak England first, that hath been forward first
    To speak unto this city: what say you?

22 II / 1
  • What say'st thou, boy? look in the lady's face.
  • What say'st thou, boy? look in the lady's face.
  • King John. If that the Dauphin there, thy princely son,
    Can in this book of beauty read 'I love,'
    Her dowry shall weigh equal with a queen:
    For Anjou and fair Touraine, Maine, Poictiers,
    And all that we upon this side the sea,
    Except this city now by us besieged,
    Find liable to our crown and dignity,
    Shall gild her bridal bed and make her rich
    In titles, honours and promotions,
    As she in beauty, education, blood,
    Holds hand with any princess of the world.

    King Phillip. What say'st thou, boy? look in the lady's face.

23 II / 1
  • It likes us well; young princes, close your hands.
  • It likes us well; young princes, close your hands.
  • King John. Then do I give Volquessen, Touraine, Maine,
    Poictiers and Anjou, these five provinces,
    With her to thee; and this addition more,
    Full thirty thousand marks of English coin.
    Philip of France, if thou be pleased withal,
    Command thy son and daughter to join hands.

    King Phillip. It likes us well; young princes, close your hands.

24 II / 1
  • Now, citizens of Angiers, ope your gates,
    Let in that amity which you have m...
  • Now, citizens of Angiers, ope your gates,
    Let in that amity which you have made;
    For at Saint Mary's chapel presently
    The rites of marriage shall be solemnized.
    Is not the Lady Constance in this troop?
    I know she is not, for this match made up
    Her presence would have interrupted much:
    Where is she and her son? tell me, who knows.
  • Lymoges. And your lips too; for I am well assured
    That I did so when I was first assured.

    King Phillip. Now, citizens of Angiers, ope your gates,
    Let in that amity which you have made;
    For at Saint Mary's chapel presently
    The rites of marriage shall be solemnized.
    Is not the Lady Constance in this troop?
    I know she is not, for this match made up
    Her presence would have interrupted much:
    Where is she and her son? tell me, who knows.

25 II / 1
  • And, by my faith, this league that we have made
    Will give her sadness very l...
  • And, by my faith, this league that we have made
    Will give her sadness very little cure.
    Brother of England, how may we content
    This widow lady? In her right we came;
    Which we, God knows, have turn'd another way,
    To our own vantage.
  • Lewis. She is sad and passionate at your highness' tent.

    King Phillip. And, by my faith, this league that we have made
    Will give her sadness very little cure.
    Brother of England, how may we content
    This widow lady? In her right we came;
    Which we, God knows, have turn'd another way,
    To our own vantage.

26 III / 1
  • 'Tis true, fair daughter; and this blessed day
    Ever in France shall be kept...
  • '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,
    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. Thou mayst, thou shalt; I will not go with thee:
    I will instruct my sorrows to be proud;
    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;
    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 Phillip. '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,
    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.

27 III / 1
  • By heaven, lady, you shall have no cause
    To curse the fair proceedings of th...
  • 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?
  • Constance. A wicked day, and not a holy day!
    [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.
    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:
    This day, all things begun come to ill end,
    Yea, faith itself to hollow falsehood change!

    King Phillip. 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?

28 III / 1
  • Here comes the holy legate of the pope.
  • Here comes the holy legate of the pope.
  • King John. We like not this; thou dost forget thyself.

    King Phillip. Here comes the holy legate of the pope.

29 III / 1
  • Brother of England, you blaspheme in this.
  • Brother of England, you blaspheme in this.
  • King John. What earthy name to interrogatories
    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
    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,
    Without the assistance of a mortal hand:
    So tell the pope, all reverence set apart
    To him and his usurp'd authority.

    King Phillip. Brother of England, you blaspheme in this.

30 III / 1
  • I am perplex'd, and know not what to say.
  • I am perplex'd, and know not what to say.
  • Philip the Bastard. Hang nothing but a calf's-skin, most sweet lout.

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

31 III / 1
  • Good reverend father, make my person yours,
    And tell me how you would bestow...
  • Good reverend father, make my person yours,
    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;
    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 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,
    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 blest
    To do your pleasure and continue friends.
  • Cardinal Pandulph. What canst thou say but will perplex thee more,
    If thou stand excommunicate and cursed?

    King Phillip. Good reverend father, make my person yours,
    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;
    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 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,
    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 blest
    To do your pleasure and continue friends.

32 III / 1
  • I may disjoin my hand, but not my faith.
  • I may disjoin my hand, but not my faith.
  • Cardinal 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 chafed lion by the mortal paw,
    A fasting tiger safer by the tooth,
    Than keep in peace that hand which thou dost hold.

    King Phillip. I may disjoin my hand, but not my faith.

33 III / 1
  • Thou shalt not need. England, I will fall from thee.
  • Thou shalt not need. England, I will fall from thee.
  • Cardinal Pandulph. I will denounce a curse upon his head.

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

34 III / 1
  • Thy rage sham burn thee up, and thou shalt turn
    To ashes, ere our blood shal...
  • 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.
  • 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-valued blood, of France.

    King Phillip. 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.

35 III / 4
  • So, by a roaring tempest on the flood,
    A whole armado of convicted sail
    ...
  • So, by a roaring tempest on the flood,
    A whole armado of convicted sail
    Is scatter'd and disjoin'd from fellowship.
  • King John. For England, cousin, go:
    Hubert shall be your man, attend on you
    With all true duty. On toward Calais, ho!

    King Phillip. So, by a roaring tempest on the flood,
    A whole armado of convicted sail
    Is scatter'd and disjoin'd from fellowship.

36 III / 4
  • What can go well, when we have run so ill?
    Are we not beaten? Is not Angiers...
  • 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?
  • Cardinal Pandulph. Courage and comfort! all shall yet go well.

    King Phillip. 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?

37 III / 4
  • Well could I bear that England had this praise,
    So we could find some patter...
  • Well could I bear that England had this praise,
    So we could find some pattern of our shame.
    [Enter CONSTANCE]
    Look, who comes here! a grave unto a soul;
    Holding the eternal spirit against her will,
    In the vile prison of afflicted breath.
    I prithee, lady, go away with me.
  • Lewis. What he hath won, that hath he fortified:
    So hot a speed with such advice disposed,
    Such temperate order in so fierce a cause,
    Doth want example: who hath read or heard
    Of any kindred action like to this?

    King Phillip. Well could I bear that England had this praise,
    So we could find some pattern of our shame.
    [Enter CONSTANCE]
    Look, who comes here! a grave unto a soul;
    Holding the eternal spirit against her will,
    In the vile prison of afflicted breath.
    I prithee, lady, go away with me.

38 III / 4
  • Patience, good lady! comfort, gentle Constance!
  • Patience, good lady! comfort, gentle Constance!
  • Constance. Lo, now I now see the issue of your peace.

    King Phillip. Patience, good lady! comfort, gentle Constance!

39 III / 4
  • O fair affliction, peace!
  • O fair affliction, peace!
  • Constance. No, I defy all counsel, all redress,
    But that which ends all counsel, true redress,
    Death, death; O amiable lovely death!
    Thou odouriferous stench! sound rottenness!
    Arise forth from the couch of lasting night,
    Thou hate and terror to prosperity,
    And I will kiss thy detestable bones
    And put my eyeballs in thy vaulty brows
    And ring these fingers with thy household worms
    And stop this gap of breath with fulsome dust
    And be a carrion monster like thyself:
    Come, grin on me, and I will think thou smilest
    And buss thee as thy wife. Misery's love,
    O, come to me!

    King Phillip. O fair affliction, peace!

40 III / 4
  • Bind up those tresses. O, what love I note
    In the fair multitude of those he...
  • Bind up those tresses. O, what love I note
    In the fair multitude of those her hairs!
    Where but by chance a silver drop hath fallen,
    Even to that drop ten thousand wiry friends
    Do glue themselves in sociable grief,
    Like true, inseparable, faithful loves,
    Sticking together in calamity.
  • Constance. 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 canonized, 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.

    King Phillip. Bind up those tresses. O, what love I note
    In the fair multitude of those her hairs!
    Where but by chance a silver drop hath fallen,
    Even to that drop ten thousand wiry friends
    Do glue themselves in sociable grief,
    Like true, inseparable, faithful loves,
    Sticking together in calamity.

41 III / 4
  • Bind up your hairs.
  • Bind up your hairs.
  • Constance. To England, if you will.

    King Phillip. Bind up your hairs.

42 III / 4
  • You are as fond of grief as of your child.
  • You are as fond of grief as of your child.
  • Constance. He talks to me that never had a son.

    King Phillip. You are as fond of grief as of your child.

43 III / 4
  • I fear some outrage, and I'll follow her.
  • I fear some outrage, and I'll follow her.
  • Constance. Grief fills the room up of my absent child,
    Lies in his bed, walks up and down with me,
    Puts on his pretty looks, repeats his words,
    Remembers me of all his gracious parts,
    Stuffs out his vacant garments with his form;
    Then, have I reason to be fond of grief?
    Fare you well: had you such a loss as I,
    I could give better comfort than you do.
    I will not keep this form upon my head,
    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 sorrows' cure!

    King Phillip. I fear some outrage, and I'll follow her.

© Copyright 2017-2022 Shakespeare Network - Maximianno Cobra - All rights reserved.

shakespeare_network

© Copyright 2017-2022 Shakespeare Network - Maximianno Cobra - All rights reserved.