Thou shalt stand curs'd and excommunicate:
And blessed shall he be that doth revolt
From his allegiance to a heretic;

And meritorious shall that hand be call'd,
Canonized, and worshipp'd as a saint,
That takes away by any secret course
Thy hateful life.

Const.

O, lawful let it be

That I have room with Rome to curse awhile!
Good father cardinal, cry thou amen

To my keen curses; for, without my wrong,

There is no tongue hath power to curse him right.
Pand. There's law and warrant, lady, for my curse.
Const. And for mine too: when law can do no right,
Let it be lawful that law bar no wrong;

Law cannot give my child his kingdom here;
For he that holds his kingdom holds the law:
Therefore, since law itself is perfect wrong,
How can the law forbid my tongue to curse?
Pand. Philip of France, on peril of a curse,
Let go the hand of that arch-heretic;

And raise the power of France upon his head,
Unless he do submit himself to Rome.

Eli. Look'st thou pale, France? do not let go thy hand.
Aust. King Philip, listen to the cardinal.

Faul. And hang a calf's-skin on his recreant limbs. Aust. Well, ruffian, I must pocket up these wrongs. K. John, Philip, what say'st thou to the cardinal? K. Phi. Good reverend father, make my person yours, And tell me how you would bestow yourself.

This royal hand and mine are newly knit,

And shall these hands, so lately purg'd of blood,

So newly join'd in love, so strong in both,
Unyoke this seizure and this kind regret?
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 bless'd
To do your pleasure, and continue friends.

Pand. 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 may'st hold a serpent by the tongue,
A chafed lion by the mortal paw,

A fasting tiger safer by the tooth,

Than keep in "eace that hand which thou dost hold.

K. Phi. I may disjoin my hand, but not my faith.
Pand. So mak'st thou faith an enemy to faith:

O, let thy vow

First made to heaven, first be to heaven perform'd,-
But, if not, then know,

The peril of our curses light on thee,

So heavy, as thou shalt not shake them off,
But in despair die under their black weight.
Aust. Rebellion, flat rebellion!

Faul.

Will't not be?

Will not a calf's-skin stop that mouth of thine?
Lew. Father, to arms!

Blanch.

Upon thy wedding day?

Against the blood that thou hast married?

O husband, hear me! even for that name,

Which till this time my tongue did ne'er pronounce,
Upon my knee I beg, go not to arms

Against mine uncle.

Const.

O, upon my knee,

Made hard with kneeling, I do pray to thee,
Thou virtuous Dauphin, alter not the doom
Fore-thought by heaven.

Blanch. Now shall I see thy love: what motive may

Be stronger with thee than the name of wife?

Const. That which upholdeth him that thee upholds,
His honor:-0, thine honor, Lewis, thine honor!
Lew. I muse your majesty doth seem so cold,

When such profound respects do pull you on.
Pand. I will denounce a curse upon his head.

K. Phi. Thou shalt not need.-England, I'll fall from thee.
Const. O, fair return of banish'd majesty!

Eli. O, foul revolt of French inconstancy!

K. John. France, thou shalt rue this hour within this hour. Cousin, go draw our puissance together.

[Exit FAULCONBRIDGE.

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 valu'd blood of France.

K. Phi. Thy rage shall burn thee up, and thou shalt turn
To ashes, ere our blood shall quench that fire :

Look to thyself, thou art in jeopardy.

K. John. No more than he that threats.-To arms let's hie!

[Exeunt.

SCENE II.-France. Plains near Angiers.

Alarums; Excursions. Enter FAULCONBRIDGE with AUSTRIA's head.

Faul. Now, by my life, this day grows wondrous hot;
Some airy devil hovers in the sky,

And pours down mischief. Austria's head, lie there,
While Philip breathes.

Enter KING JOHN, ARTHUR, and HUBERT.

K. John. Hubert, keep this boy.—Philip, make up: My mother is assailed in our tent,

And ta'en, I fear.

Alarums; Excursions; Retreat. Enter KING JOHN, ELINOR, ARTHUR, FAULCONBRIDGE, HUBERT, and Lords.

K. John. [To ELINOR.] So shall it be; your grace shall stay behind,

So strongly guarded.-[To ARTHUR.] Cousin, look not sad:
Thy grandam loves thee; and thy uncle will

As dear be to thee as thy father was.

Arth. O, this will make my mother die with grief!

K. John. [To FAUL.] Cousin, away for England; haste before: And, ere our coming, see thou shake the bags

Of hoarding abbots; imprisoned angels

Set at liberty: the fat ribs of peace

Must by the hungry now be fed upon :

Use our commission in its utmost force.

Faul. Bell, book, and candle shall not drive me back, When gold and silver becks me to come on.

I leave your highness.-Grandam, I will pray

(If ever I remember to be holy,)

For your fair safety; so I kiss your hand.
Eli. Farewell, gentle cousin.
K. John.

Coz, farewell.

[Exit FAULCONBRIDGE.

Eli. Come hither, little kinsman; hark, a word.

[She takes ARTHUR aside. K. John. Come hither, Hubert. O my gentle Hubert, We owe thee much; within this wall of flesh

There is a soul counts thee her creditor,
And with advantage means to pay thy love:
And, my good friend, thy voluntary oath
Lives in this bosom, dearly cherished.
Give me thy hand. I had a thing to say,—
But I will fit it with some better time,
By heaven, Hubert, I am almost asham'd
To say what good respect I have of thee.

Hub. I am much bounden to your majesty.

K. John. Good friend, thou hast no cause to-say so yet: But tho shalt have; and creep time ne'er so slow, Yet it ushall come for me to do thee good.

I had a thing to say,-but let it go :

The sun is in the heaven, and the proud day,
Attended with the pleasures of the world,
Is all too wanton, and too full of gawds,
To give me audience :—if the midnight bell
Did, with his iron tongue and brazen mouth,
Sound one into the drowsy ear of night;
If this same were a churchyard where we stand,
And thou possessed with a thousand wrongs;
Or if that surly spirit, melancholy,

Had bak'd thy blood, and made it heavy, thick;
(Which else runs tickling up and down the veins,
Making that idiot, laughter, keep men's eyes,
And strain their cheeks to idle merriment,-
A passion hateful to my purposes,)

Or if that thou could'st see me without eyes,
Hear me without thine ears, and make reply
Without a tongue, using conceit alone,
Without eyes, ears, and harmful sound of words;
Then, in despite of brooded watchful day,
I would into thy bosom pour my thoughts:
But ah, I will not:-yet I love thee well;
And, by my troth, I think thou lov'st me well.
Hub. So well, that what you bid me undertake,
Though that my death were adjunct to my act,
By heaven, I would do it.

K. John.

Do not I know thou would'st?
Good Hubert, Hubert, Hubert, throw thine eye
On yond' young boy: I'll tell thee what, my friend,
He is a very serpent in my way;

And wheresoe'er this foot of mine doth tread,

He lies before me:-dost thou understand me?
Thou art his keeper.

Hub.

And I'll keep him so,

That he shall not offend your majesty.

K. John. Death.

I could be merry now. Hubert, I love thee;
Well, I'll not say what I intend for thee:
Remember.-Madam, fare you well:

I'll send those powers o'er to your majesty.
Eli. My blessing go with thee!

K. John.

For England, cousin, go:

[Exeunt.

Hubert shall be your man, attend on you
With all true duty.-On toward Calais, ho!

SCENE IV.—France. The French King's Tent.

Enter KING PHILIP, LEWIS, PANDULPH, and Attendants.

K. Phi. So, by a roaring tempest on the flood, A whole armado of convicted sail

Is scatter'd, and disjoin'd from fellowship.

Pand. Courage and comfort! all shall yet go well.
K. Phi. 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?

Lew. What he hath won, that hath he fortified:
So hot a speed with such advice dispos'd,
Such temperate order in so fierce a cause,

Doth want example: who hath read, or heard,

Of any kindred action like to this?

K. Phi. Well could I bear that England had this praise, So we could find some pattern of our shame.

Look, who comes here! a grave unto a soul;

Holding th' eternal spirit, against her will,
In the vile prison of afflicted breath.—

Enter CONSTANCE.

I pr'ythee, lady, go away with me.

Const. Lo, now! now see the issue of your peace!
K. Phi. Patience, good lady! comfort, gentle Constance !
Const. No, I defy all counsel, all redress,

But that which ends all counsel, true redress,

Death, death :--O, amiable lovely death!
Arise forth from the couch of lasting night,
Thou hate and terror to prosperity,

And I will kiss thy détestable bones:

Come, grin on me; and I will think thou smil'st,