The Complete Historical Plays of William Shakespeare. William Shakespeare
And out of my dear love, I’ll give thee more
Than e’er the coward hand of France can win:
Submit thee, boy.
ELINOR.
Come to thy grandam, child.
CONSTANCE.
Do, child, go to it’ grandam, child;
Give grandam kingdom, and it’ grandam will
Give it a plum, a cherry, and a fig.
There’s a good grandam!
ARTHUR.
Good my mother, peace!
I would that I were low laid in my grave:
I am not worth this coil that’s made for me.
ELINOR.
His mother shames him so, poor boy, he weeps.
CONSTANCE.
Now, shame upon you, whe’er she does or no!
His grandam’s wrongs, and not his mother’s shames,
Draws those heaven-moving pearls from his poor eyes,
Which heaven shall take in nature of a fee:
Ay, with these crystal beads heaven shall be brib’d
To do him justice, and revenge on you.
ELINOR.
Thou monstrous slanderer of heaven and earth!
CONSTANCE.
Thou monstrous injurer of heaven and earth!
Call not me slanderer: thou and thine usurp
The dominations, royalties, and rights,
Of this oppressed boy: this is thy eldest son’s son,
Infortunate in nothing but in thee:
Thy sins are visited in this poor child;
The canon of the law is laid on him,
Being but the second generation
Removed from thy sin-conceiving womb.
KING JOHN.
Bedlam, have done.
CONSTANCE.
I have but this to say,—
That he is not only plagued for her sin,
But God hath made her sin and her the plague
On this removed issue, plagu’d for her
And with her plague, her sin; his injury
Her injury,—the beadle to her sin;
All punish’d in the person of this child,
And all for her: a plague upon her!
ELINOR.
Thou unadvised scold, I can produce
A will that bars the title of thy son.
CONSTANCE.
Ay, who doubts that? a will, a wicked will;
A woman’s will; a canker’d grandam’s will!
KING PHILIP.
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.
[Trumpet sounds. Enter citizens upon the walls.]
FIRST CITIZEN.
Who is it that hath warn’d us to the walls?
KING PHILIP.
‘Tis France, for England.
KING JOHN.
England for itself:—
You men of Angiers, and my loving subjects,—
KING PHILIP.
You loving men of Angiers, Arthur’s subjects,
Our trumpet call’d you to this gentle parle.
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
And 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 countercheck before your gates,
To save unscratch’d your city’s threatn’d cheeks,—
Behold, the French, amaz’d, 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,
Craves harbourage within your city-walls.
KING PHILIP.
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 him 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 unbruis’d,
We will bear home that lusty blood again
Which here we came to spout against your town,
And leave your children, wives,