« AnteriorContinua »
As she in beauty, education, blood,
Holds hand with any Princess of the world.
K. Philip. What say'st thou, boy ? look in the lady's
Lewis. I do, my lord, and in her
A wonder, or a wondrous miracle ;
The shadow of my self form'd in her eye ;
Which, being but the shadow of your son,
Becomes a Sun, and makes your son a shadow.
I do protest, I never lov'd my self,
Till now, infixed, 'I beheld my self,
Drawn in the flatt'ring table of her eye.
[Whispering with Blanch. Faulc. Drawn in the flatt’ring table of her eye!
Hang'd in the frowning wrinkle of her brow! And quarter'd in her heart! he doth espie
Himself love's traitor : this is pity now, That hang'd, and drawn, and quarter'd, there should be, In such a Love, lo vile a lout as he.
Blanch. My uncle's will in this respect is mine. If he fee aught in you, that makes him like, That any thing he sees, which moves his liking, I can with ease translate it to my will : Or if you will, to speak more properly, I will enforce it easily to my love. Further I will not flatter you, my lord, That all I see in you is worthy love, Than this; that nothing do I fee in you, (Though churlifh thoughts themselves Mould be your
judge) That I can find should merit any hate.
K. John. What say these young Ones? what say you,
Blanch. That she is bound in Honour still to do What you in wisdom ftill vouchsafe to say. K. John. Speak then, Prince Dauphin, can you love
this lady? Lervis. Nay, ask me, if I can refrain from love ; For I do love her most unfeignedly.
K. John. Then do I give Volqueffen, Touraine, Maine, Poiétiers, and Anjou, these five Provinces, With her to thee; and this addition more, Full thirty thousand Marks of English coin. Philip of France, if thou be pleas'd withal, Command thy Son and Daughter to join hands. K. Philip. It likes us well; young Princes, close your
hands. Auft. And your lips too; for, I am well assur’d, That I did so, when I was first assur’d.
K. Philip. Now, Citizens of Angiers, ope your gates,
Let in that amity which you have made:
For at Saint Mary's Chappel presently
The Rites of Marriage shall be solemniz'd.
Is not the lady Confiance in this troop?
I know, she is not; for this Match made up
Her presence would have interrupted much.
Where is she and her son, tell me, who knows?
Lewis. She's sad and passionate at your Highness
K. Pbilip. And, by my faith, this league, that we
Will give her fadness very little Cure.
Brother of England, how may we content:
This widow lady? in her Right we came;
Which we, God knows, have turn'd another way
To our own vantage.
K. John. We will heal up all,
For we'll create young Arthur Duke of Britain,
And Earl of Richmond; and this rich fair town
We make him lord of. Call the lady Constance ;
Some speedy Messenger bid her repair
To our Solemnity: I trust, we shall,
If not fill up the measure of her will,
Yet in some measure satisfie her so,
That we snall stop her exclamation.
we, as well as haste will suffer us,
To this unlook'd-for, unprepared, Pomp.
[Ex. all but Faulconbr. Fault, Mad world, mad Kings, mad composition!
Yohn, to stop Arthur's Title in the whole,
Hath willingly departed with a part:
And France, whose armour Conscience buckled on,
Whom Zeal and Charity brought to the field,
As God's own soldier, rounded in the ear
With that same purpose-changer, that fly devil,
That broker, that still breaks the pate of faith,
That daily break-vow, he that wins of all,
Of Kings, of beggars, old men, young men, maids,
Who having no external thing to lose
But the word Maid, cheats the poor maid of that;
That smooth-fac'd gentleman, tickling Commodity, —
Commodity, the biass of the world,
The world, which of it self is poised well,
Made to run even, upon even ground;
Till this advantage, this vile-drawing bials,
This sway of motion, this Commodity,
Makes it take head from all indifferency,
From all direction, purpose, courfe, intent.
And this fame biass, this Commodity,
This bawd, this broker, this all-changing word,
Clapt on the outward eye of fickle France,
Hach drawn him from his own determind aid,
From a resolv'd and honourable war,
To a most base and vile-concluded peace.
And why rail I on this Commodity ?
Bur for because he hath not wooed me yet :
Not that I have the power to clutch my hand,
When his fair angels would falute my palm ;
But that my hand, as unattempted yet,
Like a poor beggar, raileth on the rich.
Well, while I am a beggar, I will rail ;
And say, there is no fin but to be rich:
And being rich, my virtue then shall be,
To say, there is no vice, but beggary.
Since Kings break faith upon commodity,
Gain, be my lord; for I will worship thee!
PURK ACT III. SCENE, The French King's Pavilion. Enter Constance, Arthur, and Salisbury.
TONE to be marry'd! gone to swear a peace !
False blood to false blood join'd! Gone to be
Shall Lewis have Blanch, and Blanch those provinces ?
It is not so, thou hast mis-spoke, mis-heard;
Be well advis'd, tell o'er thy tale again,
It cannot be ; thou doft but say, 'tis fo.
I trust, I may not trust thee ; for thy word
Is but the vain breath of a common man:
Believe me, I do not believe thee, man;
I have a King's oath to the contrary.
Thou shalt be punish'd for thus frighting me,
For I am fick, and capable of fears ;
Opprest with wrongs, and therefore full of fears :
A widow, husbandless, subject to fears
A woman, naturally born to fears,
And, tho' thou now confess thou didst but jest,
With my vext spirits I cannot take a truce,
But they will quake and tremble all this day.
What doft thou mean by shaking of thy head ?
Why doft thou look so sadly on my son?
What means that hand upon that breast of thine ?
Why holds thine eye that lamentable rheum,
Like a proud river peering o'er his bounds ?
Be these sad sighs confirmers of thy words?
Then speak again, not all thy former tale,
But this one word, whether thy tale be true.
Sal. As true, as, I believe, you think them falle, That give you cause to prove my saying true.
Conf. Oh, if thou teach me to believe this sorrow,
Teach thou this forrow how to make me die ;
And let belief and life encounter so,
As doth the fury of two desp'rate men,
Which, in the very meeting, fall and die.
Lewis wed Blanch! O boy, then where art thou ?
France friend with England! what becomes of me?
Fellow, be gone, I cannot brook thy fight:
This news hath made thee a most ugly man.
Sal. What other harm have I, good lady, done,
But spoke the harın that is by others done?
Conft. Which harm within itself so heinous is, As it makes harmful all that speak of it.
Arth. I do beseech you, mother, be content.
Conf. If thou, that bidst me be content, wert grim,
Ugly, and Nand'rous to thy mother's womb,
Full of unpleasing blots, and sightless stains,
Lame, foolish, crooked, swart, prodigious,
Patch'd with foul moles, and eye-offending marks ;
I would not care, I then would be content:
For then I should not love thee : no, nor thou
Become thy great birth, nor deserve a crown.
But thou art fair, and at thy birth, dear boy!
Nature and fortune join'd to make thee great.
Of nature's gifts thou may'st with lillies boast,
And with the half-blown rose. But fortune, oh!
She is corrup:ed, chang'd, and, won from thee,
Adulterates hourly with thine uncle John;
And with her golden hand hath pluckt on France
To tread down fair respect of sovereignty,
And made his majesty the bawd to theirs.
France is a bawd to fortune, and to John;
That strumpet fortune, that ufurping John!
Tell me, thou fellow, is not France forsworn ?
Envenom him with words; or get thee gone,
And leave these woes alone, which I alone
Am bound to under-bear.
Sal. Pardon me, Madam,
I may not go without you to the Kings.
Conf. Thou may'ft, thou shalt, I w.ll not go with thee.