And though thou now confess thou didst but jest,

With my vexed spirits I cannot take a truce,

But they will quake and tremble all this day.

What dost thou mean by shaking of thy head?

Why dost thou look so sadly on my son? 20

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 signs confirmers of thy words?

Then speak again—not all thy former tale,

But this one word: whether thy tale be true.

SALISBURY

As true as I believe you think them false

That give you cause to prove my saying true.

CONSTANCE

O, if thou teach me to believe this sorrow,

Teach thou this sorrow how to make me die;

And let belief and life encounter so

As doth the fury of two desperate men

Which in the very meeting fall and die.

Louis marry Blanche! (To Arthur) O boy, then where

art thou?

France friend with England!—What becomes of me?

(To Salisbury) Fellow, be gone, I cannot brook thy

sight; 36

This news hath made thee a most ugly man.

SALISBURY

What other harm have I, good lady, done,

But spoke the harm that is by others done?

CONSTANCE

Which harm within itself so heinous is 40

As it makes harmful all that speak of it.

ARTHUR

I do beseech you, madam, be content.

CONSTANCE

If thou that bidd‘st me be content wert grim,

Ugly and sland’rous to thy mother’s womb,

Full of unpleasing blots and sightless stains,

Lame, foolish, crooked, swart, prodigious,

Patched 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 joined to make thee great.

Of Nature’s gifts thou mayst with lilies boast,

And with the half-blown rose. But Fortune, O,

She is corrupted, changed, and won from thee;

Sh’adulterates hourly with thine uncle John,

And with her golden hand hath plucked on France

To tread down fair respect of sovereignty,

And made his majesty the bawd to theirs.

France is a bawd to Fortune and King John,

That strumpet Fortune, that usurping John.

(To Salisbury) Tell me, thou fellow, is not France

forsworn ?

Envenom him with words, or get thee gone

And leave those woes alone, which I alone

Am bound to underbear.

SALISBURY Pardon me, madam,

I may not go without you to the Kings.

CONSTANCE

Thou mayst, thou shalt; I will not go with thee.

I will instruct my sorrows to be proud,

For grief is proud and makes his owner stoop.

⌈She sits upon the ground⌉

To me and to the state of my great grief 70

Let kings assemble, for my grief’s so great

That no supporter but the huge firm earth

Can hold it up. Here I and sorrows sit;

Here is my throne; bid kings come bow to it.

⌈Exeunt Salisbury and Arthur⌉

3.1 ⌈Flourish.⌉ Enter King John and King Philip ⌈hand in hand⌉; Louis the Dauphin and Lady Blanche, ⌈married⌉; Queen Eleanor, the Bastard, and the Duke of Austria

KING PHILIP (to Blanche)

’Tis true, fair daughter, and this blessèd day

Ever in France shall be kept festival.

To solemnize this day, the glorious sun

Stays in his course and plays the alchemist,

Turning with splendour of his precious eye 5

The meagre cloddy earth to glittering gold.

The yearly course that brings this day about

Shall never see it but a holy day.

CONSTANCE (rising)

A wicked day, and not a holy day!

What hath this day deserved? What hath it done,

That it in golden letters should be set

Among the high tides in the calendar?

Nay, rather turn this day out of the week,

This day of shame, oppression, perjury.

Or if it must stand still, let wives with child 15

Pray that their burdens may not fall this day,

Lest that their hopes prodigiously be crossed;

But on this day let seamen fear no wreck;

No bargains break that are not this day made;

This day all things begun come to ill end, 20

Yea, faith itself to hollow falsehood change.

KING PHILIP

By heaven, lady, you shall have no cause

To curse the fair proceedings of this day.

Have I not pawned to you my majesty?

CONSTANCE

You have beguiled me with a counterfeit 25

Resembling majesty, which being touched and tried

Proves valueless. You are forsworn, forsworn.

You came in arms to spill mine enemies’ blood,

But now in arms you strengthen it with yours.

The grappling vigour and rough frown of war 30

Is cold in amity and painted peace,

And our oppression hath made up this league.