KING JOHN
Here once again we sit, once again crown’d,
And look’d upon, I hope, with cheerful eyes.
PEMBROKE
This “once again,” but that your highness pleas’d,
Was once superfluous. You were crown’d before,
And that high royalty was pluck’d off,
The faiths of men stained with revolt;
Fresh expectation troubled not the land
With any long’d-for change or better state.
SALISBURY
Therefore, to be possess’d with double pomp,
To guard a title that was rich before,
To gild refined gold, to paint the lily,
To throw a perfume on the violet,
To smooth the ice, or add another hue
Unto the rainbow, or with taper-light
To seek the beauteous eye of heaven to garnish,
Is wasteful and ridiculous excess.
PEMBROKE
But that your royal pleasure must be done,
This act is as an ancient tale new told,
And, in the last repeating, troublesome,
Being urged at a time unseasonable.
SALISBURY
In this the antique and well-noted face
Of plain old form is much disfigured;
And, like a shifted wind unto a sail,
It makes the course of thoughts to fetch about,
Startles and frights consideration,
Makes sound opinion sick and truth suspected,
For putting on so new a fashion’d robe.
PEMBROKE
When workmen strive to do better than well,
They do confound their skill in covetousness;
And oftentimes excusing of a fault
make the fault the worse by the excuse,
As patches set upon a little breach
Discredit more in hiding of the fault
Than did the fault before it was so patch’d.
SALISBURY
To this effect, before you were new-crown’d,
We breath’d our counsel; but it pleas’d your highness
To overbear it, and we are all well pleas’d,
Since all and every part of what we would
make a stand at what your highness will.
KING JOHN
Some reasons of this double coronation
I have possess’d you with, and think them strong;
And more, more strong, when lesser is my fear,
I shall indue you with. Meantime but ask
What you would have reform’d that is not well,
And well shall you perceive how willingly
I will both hear and grant you your requests.
PEMBROKE
Then I, as one that am the tongue of these,
To sound the purposes of all their hearts,
Both for myself and them, but, chief of all,
Your safety, for the which myself and them
Bend their best studies, heartily request
Th’ enfranchisement of Arthur, whose restraint
move the murmuring lips of discontent
To break into this dangerous argument:
If what in rest you have in right you hold,
Why then your fears, which, as they say, attend
The steps of wrong, should move you to mew up
Your tender kinsman, and to choke his days
With barbarous ignorance, and deny his youth
The rich advantage of good exercise?
That the time’s enemies may not have this
To grace occasions, let it be our suit
That you have bid us ask his liberty;
Which for our goods we do no further ask
Than whereupon our weal, on you depending,
Counts it your weal he have his liberty.
KING JOHN
Let it be so. I do commit his youth
To your direction.
KING JOHN
Hubert, what news with you?
PEMBROKE
This is the man should do the bloody deed.
He show’d his warrant to a friend of mine.
The image of a wicked heinous fault
Lives in his eye; that close aspect of his
show the mood of a much troubled breast;
And I do fearfully believe done
What we so fear’d he had a charge to do.
SALISBURY
The colour of the King come and go
Between his purpose and his conscience,
Like heralds ’twixt two dreadful battles set.
His passion is so ripe it needs must break.
PEMBROKE
And when it breaks, I fear will issue
The foul corruption of a sweet child’s death.
KING JOHN
We cannot hold mortality’s strong hand.
Good lords, although my will to give is living,
The suit which you demand is gone and dead.
He tells us Arthur is deceas’d tonight.
SALISBURY
Indeed, we fear’d his sickness was past cure.
PEMBROKE
Indeed, we heard how near his death he was,
Before the child himself felt he was sick.
This must be answer’d either here or .
KING JOHN
Why do you bend such solemn brows on me?
Think you I bear the shears of destiny?
Have I commandment on the pulse of life?
SALISBURY
It is apparent foul-play; and shame
That greatness should so grossly offer it.
So thrive it in your game, and so, farewell.
PEMBROKE
Stay yet, Lord Salisbury. I’ll go with
And find th’ inheritance of this poor child,
His little kingdom of a forced grave.
That blood which ow’d the breadth of all this isle
Three foot of it hold. Bad world the while!
This must not be thus borne; this will break out
To all our sorrows, and long, I doubt.
KING JOHN
They burn in indignation. I repent.
There is no sure foundation set on blood,
No certain life achiev’d by others’ death.
KING JOHN
A fearful eye . Where is that blood
That I have seen inhabit in those cheeks?
So foul a sky clears not without a storm.
Pour down weather: how goes all in France?
MESSENGER
From France to England. Never such a power
For any foreign preparation
Was levied in the body of a land.
The copy of your speed is learn’d by them;
For when you should be told they do prepare,
The tidings comes that they are all arriv’d.
KING JOHN
O, where our intelligence been drunk?
Where it slept? Where is my mother’s care,
That such an army could be drawn in France,
And she not hear of it?
MESSENGER
My liege, her ear
Is stopp’d with dust. The first of April died
Your noble mother; and as I hear, my lord,
The Lady Constance in a frenzy died
Three days before. But this from rumour’s tongue
I idly heard; if true or false I know not.
KING JOHN
Withhold speed, dreadful occasion!
O, make a league with me, till I have pleas’d
My discontented peers! What! Mother dead?
How wildly then walks my estate in France!
Under whose conduct came those powers of France
That for truth giv’st out are landed here?
MESSENGER
Under the Dauphin.
KING JOHN
made me giddy
With these in tidings.
KING JOHN
Now, what says the world
To your proceedings? Do not seek to stuff
My head with more ill news, for it is full.
BASTARD
But if you be afeard to hear the worst,
Then let the worst, unheard, fall on your head.
KING JOHN
Bear with me, cousin, for I was amaz’d
Under the tide, but now I breathe again
Aloft the flood, and can give audience
To any tongue, speak it of what it will.
BASTARD
How I have sped among the clergymen
The sums I have collected shall express.
But as I travaill’d through the land,
I find the people strangely fantasied;
Possess’d with rumours, full of idle dreams,
Not knowing what they fear, but full of fear.
And here’s a prophet that I brought with me
From forth the streets of Pomfret, whom I found
With many hundreds treading on his heels;
To whom he sung, in rude harsh-sounding rhymes,
That, the next Ascension-day at noon,
Your highness should deliver up your crown.
KING JOHN
idle dreamer, so?
PETER OF POMFRET
Foreknowing that the truth will fall out so.
KING JOHN
Hubert, away with him; imprison him.
And on that day at noon, whereon he says
I shall yield up my crown, let him be hang’d.
Deliver him to safety, and return,
For I must use .
KING JOHN
O my gentle cousin,
Hear’st the news abroad, who are arriv’d?
BASTARD
The French, my lord. Men’s mouths are full of it.
Besides, I met Lord Bigot and Lord Salisbury,
With eyes as red as new-enkindled fire,
And others more, going to seek the grave
Of Arthur, whom they say is kill’d tonight
On your suggestion.
KING JOHN
Gentle kinsman, go
And thrust thyself into their companies.
I have a way to will their loves again.
Bring them before me.
BASTARD
I will seek them out.
KING JOHN
Nay, but make haste, the better foot before!
O, let me have no subject enemies
When adverse foreigners affright my towns
With dreadful pomp of stout invasion!
Be Mercury, set feathers to heels,
And fly like thought from them to me again.
BASTARD
The spirit of the time shall teach me speed.
KING JOHN
Spoke like a sprightful noble gentleman!
Go after him; for he perhaps shall need
Some messenger betwixt me and the peers;
And be he.
MESSENGER
With all my heart, my liege.
KING JOHN
My mother dead!
HUBERT
My lord, they say five moons were seen tonight—
Four fixed, and the fifth did whirl about
The other four in wondrous motion.
KING JOHN
Five moons!
HUBERT
Old men and beldams in the streets
Do prophesy upon it dangerously.
Young Arthur’s death is common in their mouths.
And when they talk of him, they shake their heads
And whisper one another in the ear;
And he that speaks gripe the hearer’s wrist,
Whilst he that hears makes fearful action
With wrinkled brows, with nods, with rolling eyes.
I saw a smith stand with his hammer, thus,
The whilst his iron did on the anvil cool,
With open mouth swallowing a tailor’s news;
Who, with his shears and measure in his hand,
Standing on slippers, which his nimble haste
Had falsely thrust upon contrary feet,
Told of a many thousand warlike French
That were embattailed and rank’d in Kent.
Another lean unwash’d artificer
Cuts off his tale and talks of Arthur’s death.
KING JOHN
Why seek’st to possess me with these fears?
Why urgest so young Arthur’s death?
hand murder’d him. I had a mighty cause
To wish him dead, but hadst none to kill him.
HUBERT
No had, my lord! Why, did you not provoke me?
KING JOHN
It is the curse of kings to be attended
By slaves that take their humours for a warrant
To break within the bloody house of life,
And, on the winking of authority
To understand a law, to know the meaning
Of dangerous majesty, when it frowns
More upon than advis’d respect.
HUBERT
Here is your hand and seal for what I did.
KING JOHN
O, when the last account ’twixt heaven and earth
Is to be made, then shall this hand and seal
Witness against us to damnation!
How the sight of means to do ill deeds
Make deeds ill done! Hadst not been by,
A fellow by the hand of nature mark’d,
Quoted and sign’d to do a deed of shame,
This murder had not come into my mind.
But taking note of abhorr’d aspect,
Finding fit for bloody villainy,
Apt, liable to be employ’d in danger,
I faintly broke with of Arthur’s death;
And , to be endeared to a king,
Made it no conscience to destroy a prince.
HUBERT
My lord—
KING JOHN
Hadst but shook head or made pause
When I spake darkly what I purpos’d,
Or turn’d an eye of doubt upon my face,
As bid me tell my tale in express words,
Deep shame had struck me dumb, made me break off,
And those fears might have wrought fears in me.
But understand me by my signs
And in signs again parley with sin;
Yea, without stop, let heart consent,
And consequently rude hand to act
The deed which both our tongues held vile to name.
Out of my sight, and never see me more!
My nobles leave me, and my state is brav’d,
Even at my gates, with ranks of foreign powers.
Nay, in the body of the fleshly land,
This kingdom, this confine of blood and breath,
Hostility and civil tumult reigns
Between my conscience and my cousin’s death.
HUBERT
Arm you against your other enemies,
I’ll make a peace between your soul and you.
Young Arthur is alive. This hand of mine
Is yet a maiden and an innocent hand,
Not painted with the crimson spots of blood.
Within this bosom never enter’d yet
The dreadful motion of a murderous thought;
And you have slander’d nature in my form,
Which, howsoever rude exteriorly,
Is yet the cover of a fairer mind
Than to be butcher of an innocent child.
KING JOHN
Arthur live? O, haste to the peers,
Throw this report on their incensed rage,
And make them tame to their obedience!
Forgive the comment that my passion made
Upon feature; for my rage was blind,
And foul imaginary eyes of blood
Presented more hideous than art.
O, answer not, but to my closet bring
The angry lords with all expedient haste.
I conjure but slowly; run more fast.