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King John

Act III, Scene 4

KING PHILIP'S tent.
 
[Enter KING PHILIP, LEWIS, CARDINAL PANDULPH, and Attendants]
 
KING PHILIP
       ,         ,        ,        ,         ,
      So by | a roa|ring tem|pest on | the flood,
          ,        ,     ,       ,        ,
      A whole | arma|do of | convic|ted sail
           ,         ,         ,            ,       ,
      Is scat|tered and | disjoined | from fel|lowship.
 
CARDINAL PANDULPH
       ,             ,         ,           ,         ,
      Courage | and com|fort, all | shall yet | go well.
 
KING PHILIP
            ,         ,          ,         ,        ,
      What can | go well,| when we | have run | so ill?
           ,        ,        ,            ,     ,
      Are we | not bea|ten? Is | not An/giers lost?
       ,    2        ,   2      ,         T     T      T
      Arthur tane*| prisoner?| Divers | dear friends slain?
            ,      ,        ,     ,         ,
      And bloo|dy Eng|land in|to Eng|land gone,
          ,        ,     ,         ,           ,
      Orebea|ring in|terrup|tion spite | of France?
 
LEWIS
            ,         ,           ,        ,      ,
      What he | hath won,| that hath | he for|tified:
          ,        ,            ,        ,         ,
      So hot | a speed,| with such | advice | disposed,
            ,    2     ,           ,    ,         ,
      Such tem|perate or|der in / so fierce | a cause,
             ,       ,       ,           ,         ,
      Doth^want | exam|ple: who | hath read,| or heard
         ,     ,        ,        ,         ,
      Of a|ny kin|dred ac|tion like | to this?
 
KING PHILIP
        ,              ,          ,        ,            ,
      Well could | I bear | that Eng|land had | this praise,
          ,           ,          ,        ,         ,
      So we | could find | some pat|tern of | our shame:
        ,          ,              ,      ,         ,
      Look who | comes here?| A grave | unto | a soul,
       ,           2  ,         x         ,           ,
      Holding | the eter|nal spirit | against | her will,
                 ,   ,       ,       ,         ,
      In the / vile pri|son of | afflic|ted breath:
         ,        ,     ,     ,          ,
      I pri|thee la|dy go | away | with me.
 
CONSTANCE
       T   T    T     ,         ,        2       ,
      Lo; now: now | see the | issue | of your peace.
 
KING PHILIP
       ,                ,      ,          x      ,
      Patience | good* la|dy, com|fort gentle | Constance.
 
CONSTANCE
       ,         ,         ,        ,        ,
      No, I | defy | all^coun|sel, all | redress,
            ,            ,          ,         ,        ,
      But that | which ends | all coun|sel, true | redress:
        T      T    T    , 2       ,       ,
      Death, death, O | amia|ble love|ly death,
           ,    ,   2       ,       ,    ,
      Thou o|dori|ferous stench:| sound rot/tenness.
         ,      ,                ,         ,         ,
      Arise | forth from | the couch | of las|ting night,
             ,         ,       ,       ,     ,
      Thou hate | and ter|ror to | prospe|rity,
          ,          ,     ,      ,          ,
      And I | will kiss | thy de|testa|ble bones
           ,        ,    ,              ,       ,
      And put | my eye|balls in | thy vaul|ty brows,
            ,           ,    ,      2        T    T    T
      And ring | these fin|gers with thy | household worms
            ,          ,          ,           ,         ,
      And stop | this gap | of breath | with ful|some dust,
           ,      ,    2   ,         ,         ,
      And be | a car|rion mon|ster like | thyself;
        T     T   T    ,     2           ,             ,
      Come, grin on | me, and I | will think | thou smilst
            ,          ,         ,     ,          ,
      And buss | thee as | thy wife.| Mise|ry's love,
          ,        ,
      O come | to me.
 
KING PHILIP
                          ,        ,          ,
                      O fair | afflic|tion, peace.
 
CONSTANCE
       ,   ,             ,              ,         ,
      No, no,/ I will | not, ha|ving breath | to cry:
      ,         ,    ,                     ,          ,
      O that | my tongue / were in | the thun|der's mouth,
        ,            ,         ,         ,           ,
      Then with | a pas|sion would | I shake | the world,
            ,            ,            ,      ,    ,
      And rouse | from sleep | that fell | ana|tomy
             ,        ,       ,       ,        ,
      Which can|not hear | a la|dy's fee|ble voice,
               ,        ,       ,    ,
      Which scorns | a mo|dern in|voca|tion.
 
CARDINAL PANDULPH
      <- ,       ,     ,       ,             ,     ,
        La||dy, you | utter | madness,| and not | sorrow.
 
CONSTANCE
        ,         ,   ,            ,        ,
      Thou art | not ho/ly to | belie | me so,
              ,   ,           ,        ,         ,
      I am / not mad:| this hair | I tear | is mine,
           ,        ,          ,         ,           ,
      My name | is Con|stance, I | was Geof|frey's wife,
             ,       ,       ,         ,        ,
      Young^Ar|thur is | my son,| and he | is lost:
              ,   ,        ,           x         ,
      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 | philo|sophy | to make | me mad,
            ,      ,         ,     ,     ,
      And thou | shalt be | cano|nized (car/dinal).
       ,     2          ,         ,     ,         ,
      For, being | not mad,| but sen|sible | of grief,
          ,     ,       ,        ,      ,      ->
      My rea|sona|ble part | produ|ces rea||son
       ,       ,      2   ,        ,           ,
      How | I may | be deli|vered of | these woes,
           ,        ,        ,         ,        ,
      And tea|ches me | to kill | or hang | myself:
         ,         ,    ,              ,        ,
      If I | were mad,| I should | forget | my son,
          ,       ,         ,          ,           ,
      Or mad|ly think | a babe | of clouts | were he:
              ,   ,          ,          ,        ,
      I am / not mad:| too well,| too well | I feel
           ,            ,          ,       ,    ,
      The dif|ferent plague | of each | cala|mity.
 
KING PHILIP
            ,           ,       ,          ,        ,
      Bind^up | those^tres|ses. O | what love | I note
                 ,   ,      ,         ,           ,
      In the / fair mul|titude | of those | her hairs;
              ,          ,        ,        ,            x
      Where* but | by chance | a sil|ver drop | hath fallen,
      ,        2       ,           ,        ,      ,
      Even | to that drop | ten* thou|sand wi|ry fiends
           ,           ,         ,            ,
      Do glue | themselves | in so|ciable / grief,
      <-  ,       T    T T    ,        ,         ,
        Like || true, inse|para|ble, faith|ful loves,
        ,           ,       ,      ,    ,
      Sticking | toge|ther in | cala|mity.
 
CONSTANCE
          ,         ,         ,
      To Eng|land, if | you will.
 
KING PHILIP
                                       ,          ,
                                 Bind^up | your hairs.
 
CONSTANCE
            ,        ,          ,          ,        x
      Yes that | I will:| and where|fore will | I do it?
          ,           ,            ,           ,        ,
      I tore | them from | their bonds | and cried | aloud
      ,                ,            ,       ,        ,
      O that | these hands | could so | redeem | my son,
           ,           x             ,            ,     ,
      As they | have given | these hairs | their li|berty:
           ,       ,     ,          ,     ,
      But now | I en|vy at | their li|berty,
            ,       ,        ,          ,           ,
      And will | again | commit | them to | their bonds,
          ,          ,      ,           ,     ,
      Because | my poor | child is | a pri|soner.
           ,       ,    2    ,          ,          ,
      And fa|ther car|dinal, I | have heard | you say
            ,          ,          ,           ,            x
      That we | shall see | and know | our friends | in heaven:
           ,         ,     2       ,        ,       ,
      If that | be true,| I shall see | my boy | again;
            ,           ,          ,     .    T     T    T
      For since | the birth | of Cain,| the first male child
          ,          ,         ,      ,        ,
      To him | that did | but yes|terday | suspire,
        ,          ,           ,          ,         ,
      There was | not such^|a gra|cious crea|ture born:
           ,          ,       ,       ,        ,
      But now | will can|ker-sor|row eat | my bud,
            ,          ,        ,       ,          ,
      And chase | the na|tive beau|ty from | his cheek,
           ,          ,        ,       ,       ,
      And he | will look | as hol|low as | a ghost,
          ,         ,       ,      ,        ,
      As dim | and mea|ger as | an a|gue's fit,
           ,          ,         ,       ,      ,
      And so | he'll die:| and ri|sing so | again,
        ,              ,         ,         ,           x
      When I | shall meet | him in | the court | of heaven
          ,           ,           ,         ,       ,     ->
      I shall | not know | him: there|fore ne|ver, ne||ver
        ,     2    ,         ,      ,        ,
      Must | I behold | my pret|ty Ar|thur more.
 
CARDINAL PANDULPH
            ,         ,    ,          ,          ,
      You hold | too hei|nous a | respect | of grief.
 
CONSTANCE
           ,         ,         ,      ,       ,
      He talks | to me | that ne|ver had | a son.
 
KING PHILIP
           ,         ,         ,         ,          ,
      You are | as fond | of grief,| as of | your child.
 
CONSTANCE
        T     T    .    T     ,          ,        ,
      Grief fills the room | up of | my ab|sent child:
        ,            ,           ,         ,          ,
      Lies in | his bed,| walks^up | and down | with me,
        ,             ,       ,         ,           ,
      Puts on | his pret|ty looks,| repeats | his words,
         ,        ,       ,         ,          ,
      Remem|bers me | of all | his gra|cious parts,
         ,              ,       ,          ,          ,
      Stuffs out | his va|cant gar|ments with | his form;
        ,             ,       ,        ,         ,
      Then, have | I rea|son to | be fond | of grief?
        ,          ,          ,             ,       ,
      Fare you | well: had | you such | a loss | as I,
      ,               ,       ,               ,   ,
      I could | give^bet|ter com|fort than / you do.
          ,          ,           ,      ,         ,
      I will | not keep | this form | upon | my head,
             ,          ,        ,      ,       ,
      When there | is such | disor|der in | my wit:
          ,        ,        ,              ,   ,
      O Lord,| my boy,| my Ar|thur, my / fair son,
           ,        ,         ,        ,          ,
      My life,| my joy,| my food,| my all | the world:
          ,      ,         ,        ,          ,
      My wi|dow-com|fort, and | my sor|rows' cure.
 
[Exit]
 
KING PHILIP
          ,          ,    ,               ,       ,
      I fear | some out|rage, and | I'll fol|low her.
 
[Exit]
 
LEWIS
               ,        ,          ,           ,        ,
      There's no|thing in | this world | can make | me joy,
        ,    2      ,    ,    2      T     T    T
      Life is as | tedi|ous as a | twice-told tale
       ,             ,     ,           ,      ,
      Vexing | the dull | ear of | a drow|sy man;
             x       ,             ,            T      T      T
      And bitter | shame hath | spoiled the | sweet world's taste
                   ,      ,           ,          ,       ,
      That it / yields nought | but shame | and bit|terness.
 
CARDINAL PANDULPH
          ,         ,       ,        ,         ,
      Before | the cu|ring of | a strong | disease,
      ,        2     ,   ,            ,           ,
      Even | in the in|stant of | repair | and health,
           ,          ,        ,               ,    ,
      The fit | is strong|est: e|vils that / take leave
       ,      2    ,          ,        ,         ,
      On their de|parture,| most of | all show | evil:
        ,               ,        ,       ,         ,
      What have | you lost | by lo|sing of | this day?
 
LEWIS
            ,        ,       ,         ,      ,
      All days | of glo|ry, joy | and hap|piness.
 
CARDINAL PANDULPH
       ,              x      ,     2        ,
      If you | had won it,| certainly^|you had.
      <- __     ,          ,          ,         T    T    T
         No,|| no: when | Fortune | means to | men most good,
            ,       ,      ,             ,      2    ,
      She looks | upon | them with | a threa|tening eye.
              ,           ,           ,           ,           ,
      'Tis strange | to think | how much | King^John | hath lost
           ,           ,        ,          ,       ,
      In this | which he | accounts | so clear|ly won:
           ,           ,            ,       ,        ,     ,
      Are not | you grieved | that Ar|thur is | his pri|soner?
 
LEWIS
           ,     ,       ,        ,         ,         o
      As hear|tily | as he | is glad | he hath | him.    (hex with prev)
 
CARDINAL PANDULPH
             ,        ,         ,        ,          ,
      Your mind | is all | as youth|ful as | your blood.
            ,         ,       ,          ,         x
      Now hear | me speak | with a | prophe|tic spirit:
            x           ,          ,        ,         ,
      For even | the breath | of what | I mean | to speak,
              ,           ,           ,           ,       ,
      Shall blow | each dust,| each straw,| each lit|tle rub
       ,             ,            ,         ,       ,
      Out of | the path | which^shall | direct|ly lead
            ,        ,            ,           ,          ,
      Thy foot | to Eng|land's throne.| And there|fore mark:
        ,            ,    ,                 ,       ,
      John hath | seized Ar/thur, and | it can|not be,
        ,            T    T    T       2      ,          ,
      That whiles^|warm life plays | in that in|fant's veins,
                 ,     ,            ,      ,         ,
      The mis/placed John | should en|tertain | an hour,
       T    Tx     T     T    Tx     T          ,
      One minute, nay | one quiet breath | of rest.
          ,          ,                 , ,      ,
      A scep|ter snatched | with an / unru|ly hand
        ,            ,    2    ,          ,           ,
      Must be | as bois|terously | maintained | as gained.
           ,           ,       ,        ,         ,
      And he | that stands | upon | a slip|pery place,
              ,     .  T   T    T         ,         ,
      Makes^nice | of no vile hold | to stay | him up:
             ,          ,           ,        ,            ,
      That John | may stand,| then Ar|thur needs | must fall,
          ,        ,        ,       ,        ,
      So be | it, for | it can|not be | but so.
 
LEWIS
            ,          ,     ,              ,          ,
      But what | shall I | gain by | young^Ar|thur's fall?
 
CARDINAL PANDULPH
       ,              ,         ,       ,            ,
      You, in | the right | of La|dy Blanch | your wife,
            ,          ,          ,           ,       ,
      May then | make^all | the claim | that Ar|thur did.
 
LEWIS
            ,          ,         ,        ,       ,
      And lose | it, life | and all,| as Ar|thur did.
 
CARDINAL PANDULPH
            ,          ,          ,                ,    ,
      How green | you are | and fresh | in this / old world?
        T    T   T      ,            ,         ,       2
      John lays you | plots: the | times con|spire with you,
           ,           ,           ,            ,    ,
      For he | that steeps | his safe|ty in / true blood,
              ,          ,       ,             ,  ,
      Shall find | but bloo|dy safe|ty, and / untrue.
            ,       ,   2     ,            ,           ,
      This act | so e|villy born | shall cool | the hearts
          ,         ,               ,    ,           ,
      Of all | his peo|ple and / freeze up | their zeal,
             ,         ,        ,                 ,    ,
      That none | so small | advan|tage shall / step forth
           ,           ,           ,          ,        ,
      To check | his reign,| but they | will che|rish it.
          ,   2    ,    ,       ,        ,
      No na|tural ex|hala|tion in | the sky,
           ,         ,        ,       ,         ,
      No scope | of na|ture, no | distem|pered day,
          ,        ,        ,    ,      __
      No com|mon wind,| no cus|tomed e|vent,
       ,                ,       ,         ,   2     ,
      But they | will pluck | away | his na|tural cause,
            ,          ,   2     ,      ,          ,
      And call | them me|teors, pro|digies,| and signs,
        ,          ,   ,             ,            x
      Abor|tives, pre|sages,| and tongues | of heaven,
        ,           ,        ,            ,    ,
      Plainly | denoun|cing ven|geance u/pon John.
 
LEWIS
       ,                 ,    ,            ,          ,
      Maybe | he will / not touch | young^Ar|thur's life,
            ,         ,      ,            ,       ,
      But hold | himself | safe in | his pri|sonment.
 
CARDINAL PANDULPH
         ,          ,           ,         ,         ,
      O sir,| when he | shall hear | of your | approach,
       ,               ,     2    ,      ,      ,
      If that | young^Ar|thur be not | gone al|ready,
        2   ,          ,         ,          ,           ,
      Even at | that news | he dies:| and then | the hearts
          ,         ,        ,         ,          ,
      Of all | his peo|ple shall | revolt | from him,
            ,          ,        ,     ,          ,
      And kiss | the lips | of un|acquain|ted change,
            ,       ,    ,               ,          ,
      And pick | strong mat/ter of | revolt | and wrath
       ,             ,       ,         ,         ,
      Out of | the bloo|dy fing|ers' ends | of John.
           ,        ,          ,      ,         ,
      Methinks | I see | this hur|ly all | on foot;
          ,         ,       ,         ,          ,
      And O,| what bet|ter mat|ter breeds | for you,
           ,          ,          ,         ,        ,
      Than I | have named.| The bas|tard Faul|conbridge
          ,        ,        ,    ,              ,
      Is now | in Eng|land ran|sacking | the church,
         ,        ,    2     ,      2   ,        ,
      Offen|ding cha|rity*: if | but a do|zen French
             ,          ,      ,           ,          ,
      Were there | in arms,| they would | be as | a call
           ,            ,        ,        ,           ,
      To train | ten* thou|sand Eng|lish to | their side,
       ,    2     ,         ,    ,           ,
      Or, as a | little | snow, tum/bled a|bout,
      <-    ,       ,         ,           ,      ,       ->
        A||non be|comes a | mountain.| O no|ble Dau||phin,
       ,         ,     2      ,          ,      ,
      Go | with me | to the king,| 'tis won|derful,
            ,          ,       ,              ,       ,
      What may | be wrought | out of | their dis|content,
       ,                 ,          ,   ,           ,
      Now that | their souls | are top|ful of | offense.
           ,        ,   ,          ,             ,
      For Eng|land go;| I will | whet on | the king.
 
LEWIS
         ,    ,                 ,    ,                  ,
      Strong rea/sons make*| strong ac/tions: let | us go,
          ,         ,          ,          ,         ,
      If you | say aye,| the king | will not | say no.
 
[Exeunt]

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