The Complete Historical Plays of William Shakespeare. William Shakespeare

The Complete Historical Plays of William Shakespeare - William Shakespeare


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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 neice, the Lady Blanch of Spain;

       With them a bastard of the king’s deceas’d:

       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 a hazard of new fortunes here.

       In brief, a braver choice of dauntless spirits

       Than now the English bottoms have waft o’er

       Did never float upon the swelling tide

       To do offence and scathe in Christendom.

       [Drums beat within.]

       The interruption of their churlish drums

       Cuts off more circumstance: they are at hand;

       To parley or to fight: therefore prepare.

       KING PHILIP.

       How much unlook’d-for is this expedition!

       AUSTRIA.

       By how much unexpected, by so much

       We must awake endeavour for defence;

       For courage mounteth with occasion:

       Let them be welcome, then; we are prepar’d.

       [Enter KING JOHN, ELINOR, BLANCH, the BASTARD,

       PEMBROKE, Lords, and Forces.]

       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 PHILIP.

       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,

       Outfaced 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’er-masterest?

       KING JOHN.

       From whom hast thou this great commission, France,

       To draw my answer from thy articles?

       KING PHILIP.

       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.

       Alack, thou dost usurp authority.

       KING PHILIP.

       Excus,—it is to beat usurping down.

       ELINOR.

       Who is it thou dost call usurper, France?

       CONSTANCE.

       Let me make answer;—thy usurping son.

       ELINOR.

       Out, insolent! thy bastard shall be king,

       That thou mayst be a queen, and check the world!

       CONSTANCE.

       My bed was ever to thy son as true

       As thine was to thy husband; and this boy

       Liker in feature to his father Geffrey

       Than thou and John in manners,—being as like

       As rain to water, or devil to his dam.

       My boy a bastard! By my soul, I think

       His father never was so true begot:

       It cannot be, an if thou wert his mother.

       ELINOR.

       There’s a good mother, boy, that blots thy father.

       CONSTANCE.

       There’s a good grandam, boy, that would blot thee.

       AUSTRIA.

       Peace!

       BASTARD.

       Hear the crier.

       AUSTRIA.

       What the devil art thou?

       BASTARD.

       One that will play the devil, sir, with you,

       An ‘a may catch your hide and you alone.

       You are the hare of whom the proverb goes,

       Whose valour plucks dead lions by the beard:

       I’ll smoke your skin-coat an I catch you right;

       Sirrah, look to ‘t; i’ faith I will, i’ faith.

       BLANCH.

       O, well did he become that lion’s robe

       That did disrobe the lion of that robe!

       BASTARD.

       It lies as sightly on the back of him

       As great Alcides’ shows upon an ass:—

       But, ass, I’ll take that burden from your back,

       Or lay on that shall make your shoulders crack.

       AUSTRIA.

       What cracker is this same that deafs our ears

       With this abundance of superfluous breath?

       KING PHILIP.

       Louis, determine what we shall do straight.

       LOUIS.

       Women and fools, break off your conference.—

       King John, this is the very sum of all,—

       England and Ireland, Anjou, Touraine, Maine,

       In right of Arthur, do I claim of thee:

       Wilt thou resign them, and lay down thy arms?

       KING JOHN.

       My life as soon:—I do defy thee, France.

      


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