KING JOHN

KING JOHN A PLAY called The Troublesome Reign of John, King of England, published anonymously in 1591, has sometimes been thought to be a derivative version of Shakespeare’s King John, first published in the 1623 Folio; more probably Shakespeare wrote his play in 1595 or 1596, using The Troublesome Reign—itself based on Holinshed’s Chronicles and John Foxe’s Book of Martyrs (1563)—as his principal source. Like Richard II, King John is written entirely in verse. King John (c.1167―1216) was famous as the opponent of papal tyranny, and The Troublesome Reign is a violently anti-Catholic play; but Shakespeare is more moderate. He portrays selected events from John’s reign—like The Troublesome Reign, making no mention of Magna Carta—and ends with John’s death, but John is not so dominant a figure in his play as Richard II or Richard III in theirs. Indeed, the longest—and liveliest—role is that of Richard Coeur-de-lion’s illegitimate son, Philip Falconbridge, the Bastard. King John’s reign was troublesome initially because of his weak claim to his brother Richard Coeur-de-lion’s throne. Prince Arthur, son of John’s elder brother Geoffrey, had no less strong a claim, which is upheld by his mother, Constance, and by King Philip of France. The waste and futility of the consequent war between power-hungry leaders is satirically demonstrated in the dispute over the French town of Angers, which is resolved by a marriage between John’s niece, Lady Blanche of Spain, and Louis, the French Dauphin. The moral is strikingly drawn by the Bastard—the man best fitted to be king, but debarred by accident of birth—in his speech (2.1.562-99) on ’commodity’ (self-interest). King Philip breaks his treaty with England, and in the ensuing battle Prince Arthur is captured. He becomes the play’s touchstone of humanity as he persuades John’s agent, Hubert, to disobey John’s orders to blind him, only to kill himself while trying to escape. John’s noblemen, thinking the King responsible for the boy’s death, defect to the French, but return to their allegiance on learning that the Dauphin intends to kill them after conquering England. John dies, poisoned by a monk; the play ends with the reunited noblemen swearing allegiance to John’s son, the young Henry III, and with the Bastard’s boast that This England never did, nor never shall, Lie at the proud foot of a conqueror But when it first did help to wound itself. Twentieth-century revivals of King John were infrequent, but it was popular in the nineteenth century, when the roles of the King, the Bastard, and Constance all appealed to successful actors; a production of 1823 at Covent Garden inaugurated a trend for historically accurate settings and costumes which led to a number of spectacular revivals. THE PERSONS OF THE PLAY KING JOHN of England QUEEN ELEANOR, his mother

LADY FALCONBRIDGE Philip the BASTARD, later knighted as Sir Richard Plantagenet, her illegitimate son by King Richard I (Coeur-de-lion) Robert FALCONBRIDGE, her legitimate son James GURNEY, her attendant

Lady BLANCHE of Spain, niece of King John PRINCE HENRY, son of King John HUBERT, a follower of King John Earl of SALISBURY Earl of PEMBROKE Earl of ESSEX Lord BIGOT KING PHILIP of France LOUIS THE DAUPHIN, his son ARTHUR, Duke of Brittaine, nephew of King John Lady coNSTANCE, his mother Duke of AUSTRIA (Limoges) CHÂTILLON, ambassador from France to England Count MELUN

A CITIZEN of Angers Cardinal PANDOLF, a legate from the Pope PETER OF POMFRET, a prophet HERALDS EXECUTIONERS MESSENGERS SHERIFF Lords, soldiers, attendants

The Life and Death of King John

1.1 [Flourish.] Enter King John, Queen Eleanor, and the Earls of Pembroke, Essex, and Salisbury; with them Châtillon of France KING JOHN Now say, Châtillon, what would France with us? CHÂTILLON Thus, after greeting, speaks the King of France, In my behaviour, to the majesty— The borrowed majesty—of England here. QUEEN ELEANOR A strange beginning: ‘borrowed majesty’? KING JOHN Silence, good mother, hear the embassy. CHÂTILLON Philip of France, in right and true behalf Of thy deceased brother Geoffrey’s son, Arthur Plantagenet, lays most lawful claim

To this fair island and the territories, To Ireland, Poitou, Anjou, Touraine, Maine; Desiring thee to lay aside the sword Which sways usurpingly these several titles, And put the same into young Arthur’s hand, Thy nephew and right royal sovereign. KING JOHN What follows if we disallow of this? CHÂTILLON The proud control of fierce and bloody war, To enforce these rights so forcibly withheld— KING JOHN Here have we war for war, and blood for blood, Controlment for controlment: so answer France. CHÂTILLON Then take my king’s defiance from my mouth, The farthest limit of my embassy. KING JOHN Bear mine to him, and so depart in peace. Be thou as lightning in the eyes of France, For ere thou canst report, I will be there; 25 The thunder of my cannon shall be heard. So hence. Be thou the trumpet of our wrath, And sullen presage of your own decay.— An honourable conduct let him have; Pembroke, look to’t.—Farewell, Châtillon. 30 Exeunt Châtillon and Pembroke QUEEN ELEANOR What now, my son? Have I not ever said How that ambitious Constance would not cease Till she had kindled France and all the world Upon the right and party of her son ? This might have been prevented and made whole 35 With very easy arguments of love, Which now the manage of two kingdoms must With fearful-bloody issue arbitrate. KING JOHN Our strong possession and our right for us. QUEEN ELEANOR (aside to King John) Your strong possession much more than your right, Or else it must go wrong with you and me: 41 So much my conscience whispers in your ear, Which none but heaven and you and I shall hear. Enter a Sheriff, [who whispers to Essex] ESSEX My liege, here is the strangest controversy, Come from the country to be judged by you, 45 That e’er I heard. Shall I produce the men? KING JOHN Let them approach.—⌈Exit Sheriff⌉ Our abbeys and our priories shall pay This expeditious charge. Enter Robert Falconbridge and Philip the Bastard ⌈With the Sheriff⌉ What men are you? BASTARD Your faithful subject I, a gentleman 50 Born in Northamptonshire, and eldest son, As I suppose, to Robert Falconbridge, A soldier, by the honour-giving hand Of Cœur-de-lion knighted in the field. KING JOHN What art thou? 55 FALCONBRIDGE The son and heir to that same Falconbridge. KING JOHN Is that the elder, and art thou the heir? You came not of one mother then, it seems. BASTARD Most certain of one mother, mighty King— That is well known—and, as I think, one father. 60 But for the certain knowledge of that truth I put you o’er to heaven, and to my mother. Of that I doubt as all men’s children may. QUEEN ELEANOR Out on thee, rude man ! Thou dost shame thy mother And wound her honour with this diffidence. 65 BASTARD I, Madam? No, I have no reason for it. That is my brother’s plea and none of mine, The which if he can prove, a pops me out At least from fair five hundred pound a year. Heaven guard my mother’s honour, and my land! 70 KING JOHN A good blunt fellow.—Why, being younger born, Doth he lay claim to thine inheritance ? BASTARD I know not why, except to get the land; But once he slandered me with bastardy. But whe’er I be as true begot or no, 75 That still I lay upon my mother’s head; But that I am as well begot, my liege— Fair fall the bones that took the pains for me— Compare our faces and be judge yourself. If old Sir Robert did beget us both 80 And were our father, and this son like him, O old Sir Robert, father, on my knee I give heaven thanks I was not like to thee. KING JOHN Why, what a madcap hath heaven lent us here! QUEEN ELEANOR He hath a trick of Coeur-de-lion’s face; 85 The accent of his tongue affecteth him. Do you not read some tokens of my son In the large composition of this man? KING JOHN Mine eye hath well examined his parts, And finds them perfect Richard. (To Robert Falconbridge) Sirrah, speak: 90 What doth move you to claim your brother’s land? BASTARD Because he hath a half-face like my father! With half that face would he have all my land, A half-faced groat five hundred pound a year. FALCONBRIDGE My gracious liege, when that my father lived, 95 Your brother did employ my father much— BASTARD Well, sir, by this you cannot get my land. Your tale must be how he employed my mother. FALCONBRIDGE And once dispatched him in an embassy To Germany, there with the Emperor To treat of high affairs touching that time. Th‘advantage of his absence took the King, And in the meantime sojourned at my father’s, Where how he did prevail I shame to speak. But truth is truth:large lengths of seas and shores Between my father and my mother lay, 106 As I have heard my father speak himself, When this same lusty gentleman was got. Upon his deathbed he by will bequeathed His lands to me, and took it on his death 110 That this my mother’s son was none of his; And if he were, he came into the world Full fourteen weeks before the course of time. Then, good my liege, let me have what is mine, My father’s land, as was my father’s will. 115 KING JOHN Sirrah, your brother is legitimate. Your father’s wife did after wedlock bear him, And if she did play false, the fault was hers, Which fault lies on the hazards of all husbands That marry wives. Tell me, how if my brother, Who, as you say, took pains to get this son, Had of your father claimed this son for his ? In sooth, good friend, your father might have kept This calf, bred from his cow, from all the world; In sooth he might. Then if he were my brother’s, 125 My brother might not claim him, nor your father, Being none of his, refuse him. This concludes: My mother’s son did get your father’s heir; Your father’s heir must have your father’s land. FALCONBRIDGE Shall then my father’s will be of no force 130 To dispossess that child which is not his? BASTARD Of no more force to dispossess me, sir, Than was his will to get me, as I think. QUEEN ELEANOR Whether hadst thou rather be: a Falconbridge, And like thy brother to enjoy thy land, 135 Or the reputed son of Cœur-de-lion, Lord of thy presence, and no land beside? BASTARD Madam, an if my brother had my shape, And I had his, Sir Robert’s his like him, And if my legs were two such riding-rods, 140 My arms such eel-skins stuffed, my face so thin That in mine ear I durst not stick a rose Lest men should say ‘Look where three-farthings goes!’, And, to his shape, were heir to all this land, Would I might never stir from off this place. I would give it every foot to have this face; It would not be Sir Nob in any case. QUEEN ELEANOR I like thee well. Wilt thou forsake thy fortune, Bequeath thy land to him, and follow me? I am a soldier and now bound to France. 150 BASTARD Brother, take you my land; I’ll take my chance. Your face hath got five hundred pound a year, Yet sell your face for fivepence and ’tis dear.— Madam, I’ll follow you unto the death. QUEEN ELEANOR Nay, I would have you go before me thither. 155 BASTARD Our country manners give our betters way. KING JOHN What is thy name? BASTARD Philip, my liege, so is my name begun: Philip, good old Sir Robert’s wife’s eldest son, KING JOHN From henceforth bear his name whose form thou bear’st. 160 Kneel thou down Philip, but arise more great: He knights the Bastard Arise Sir Richard and Plantagenet. BASTARD Brother by th’ mother’s side, give me your hand. My father gave me honour, yours gave land. Now blessèd be the hour, by night or day, 165 When I was got, Sir Robert was away. QUEEN ELEANOR The very spirit of Plantagenet I I am thy grandam, Richard; call me so. BASTARD Madam, by chance, but not by truth; what though? Something about, a little from the right, In at the window, or else o‘er the hatch; Who dares not stir by day must walk by night, And have is have, however men do catch. Near or far off, well won is still well shot, And I am I, howe’er I was begot. KING JOHN Go, Falconbridge, now hast thou thy desire: A landless knight makes thee a landed squire.— Come, madam, and come, Richard; we must speed For France; for France, for it is more than need. BASTARD Brother, adieu. Good fortune come to thee, 180 For thou wast got i’th’ way of honesty. Exeunt all but the Bastard A foot of honour better than I was, But many a many foot of land the worse. Well, now can I make any Joan a lady. ‘Good e’en, Sir Richard‘—’God-a-mercy fellow’; And if his name be George I’ll call him Peter, For new-made honour doth forget men’s names; ’Tis too respective and too sociable For your conversion. Now your traveller, He and his toothpick at my worship’s mess; 190 And when my knightly stomach is sufficed, Why then I suck my teeth and catechize My picked man of countries. ‘My dear sir,’ Thus leaning on mine elbow I begin, ‘I shall beseech you—’. That is Question now; 195 And then comes Answer like an Absey book. ‘O sir,’ says Answer, ‘at your best command, At your employment, at your service, sir.’ ‘No sir,’ says Question, ‘I, sweet sir, at yours.’ And so, ere Answer knows what Question would, Saving in dialogue of compliment, And talking of the Alps and Apennines, The Pyrenean and the River Po, It draws toward supper in conclusion so. But this is worshipful society, 205 And fits the mounting spirit like myself; For he is but a bastard to the time That doth not smack of observation; And so am I—whether I smack or no, And not alone in habit and device, 210 Exterior form, outward accoutrement, But from the inward motion—to deliver Sweet, sweet, sweet poison for the age’s tooth; Which, though I will not practise to deceive, Yet to avoid deceit I mean to learn; 215 For it shall strew the footsteps of my rising. Enter Lady Falconbridge and James Gurney But who comes in such haste in riding-robes? What woman-post is this? Hath she no husband That will take pains to blow a horn before her? O me, ’tis my mother! How now, good lady? 220 What brings you here to court so hastily? LADY FALCONBRIDGE Where is that slave thy brother? Where is he That holds in chase mine honour up and down? BASTARD My brother Robert, old Sir Robert’s son? Colbrand the Giant, that same mighty man? 225 Is it Sir Robert’s son that you seek so? LADY FALCONBRIDGE Sir Robert’s son, ay, thou unreverent boy, Sir Robert’s son. Why scorn’st thou at Sir Robert? He is Sir Robert’s son, and so art thou. BASTARD James Gurney, wilt thou give us leave awhile? 230 GURNEY Good leave, good Philip. BASTARD Philip Sparrow, James! There’s toys abroad; anon I’ll tell thee more. Exit James Gurney

Madam, I was not old Sir Robert’s son. Sir Robert might have eat his part in me Upon Good Friday, and ne’er broke his fast. 235 Sir Robert could do well, marry to confess, Could a get me! Sir Robert could not do it: We know his handiwork. Therefore, good mother, To whom am I beholden for these limbs? Sir Robert never holp to make this leg. 240 LADY FALCONBRIDGE Hast thou conspired with thy brother too, That for thine own gain shouldst defend mine honour? What means this scorn, thou most untoward knave? BASTARD Knight, knight, good mother, Basilisco-like! What! I am dubbed; I have it on my shoulder. 245 But, mother, I am not Sir Robert’s son. I have disclaimed Sir Robert; and my land, Legitimation, name, and all is gone. Then, good my mother, let me know my father; Some proper man, I hope; who was it, mother? 250 LADY FALCONBRIDGE Hast thou denied thyself a Falconbridge ? BASTARD As faithfully as I deny the devil. LADY FALCONBRIDGE King Richard Cœur-de-lion was thy father. By long and vehement suit I was seduced To make room for him in my husband’s bed. 255 Heaven lay not my transgression to my charge! Thou art the issue of my dear offence, Which was so strongly urged past my defence. BASTARD Now by this light, were I to get again, Madam, I would not wish a better father. 260 Some sins do bear their privilege on earth, And so doth yours; your fault was not your folly. Needs must you lay your heart at his dispose, Subjected tribute to commanding love, Against whose fury and unmatched force 265 The aweless lion could not wage the fight, Nor keep his princely heart from Richard’s hand. He that perforce robs lions of their hearts May easily win a woman’s. Ay, my mother, With all my heart I thank thee for my father. 270 Who lives and dares but say thou didst not well When I was got, I’ll send his soul to hell. Come, lady, I will show thee to my kin, And they shall say, when Richard me begot, If thou hadst said him nay, it had been sin. 275 Who says it was, he lies: I say ’twas not. Exeunt

2.1 ⌈Flourish.⌉ Enter before Angers ⌈at one door⌉ Philip King of France, Louis the Dauphin, Lady Constance, and Arthur Duke of Brittaine, with soldiers; ⌈at another door⌉ the Duke of Austria, wearing a lion’s hide, with soldiers ⌈KING PHILIP⌉ Before Angers well met, brave Austria.— Arthur, that great forerunner of thy blood, Richard that robbed the lion of his heart And fought the holy wars in Palestine, By this brave duke came early to his grave; 5 And, for amends to his posterity, At our importance hither is he come To spread his colours, boy, in thy behalf, And to rebuke the usurpation Of thy unnatural uncle, English John. 10 Embrace him, love him, give him welcome hither. ARTHUR (to Austria) God shall forgive you Cœur-de-lion’s death, The rather that you give his offspring life, Shadowing their right under your wings of war. I give you welcome with a powerless hand, 15 But with a heart full of unstained love. Welcome before the gates of Angers, Duke. ⌈KING PHILIP⌉ A noble boy. Who would not do thee right? AUSTRIA (kissing Arthur) Upon thy cheek lay I this zealous kiss As seal to this indenture of my love: 20 That to my home I will no more return Till Angers and the right thou hast in France, Together with that pale, that white-faced shore, Whose foot spurns back the ocean’s roaring tides And coops from other lands her islanders, 25 Even till that England, hedged in with the main, That water-wallèd bulwark, still secure And confident from foreign purposes, Even till that utmost corner of the west Salute thee for her king. Till then, fair boy, Will I not think of home, but follow arms. C0NSTANCE O, take his mother’s thanks, a widow’s thanks, Till your strong hand shall help to give him strength To make a more requital to your love. AUSTRIA The peace of heaven is theirs that lift their swords In such a just and charitable war. KING PHILIP Well then, to work! Our cannon shall be bent Against the brows of this resisting town. Call for our chiefest men of discipline To cull the plots of best advantages. We’ll lay before this town our royal bones, Wade to the market-place in Frenchmen’s blood, But we will make it subject to this boy. CONSTANCE Stay for an answer to your embassy, Lest unadvised you stain your swords with blood. My lord Châtillon may from England bring That right in peace which here we urge in war, And then we shall repent each drop of blood That hot rash haste so indirectly shed. Enter Châtillon KING PHILIP A wonder, lady:lo upon thy wish Our messenger Châtillon is arrived.— What England says, say briefly, gentle lord; We coldly pause for thee. Châtillon, speak. CHÂTILLON Then turn your forces from this paltry siege, And stir them up against a mightier task. 55 England, impatient of your just demands, Hath put himself in arms. The adverse winds, Whose leisure I have stayed, have given him time To land his legions all as soon as I. His marches are expedient to this town, 60 His forces strong, his soldiers confident. With him along is come the Mother-Queen, An Ate stirring him to blood and strife; With her her niece, the Lady Blanche of Spain; With them a bastard of the King’s deceased; 65 And all th‘unsettled humours of the land— Rash, inconsiderate, fiery voluntaries, With ladies’ faces and fierce dragons’ spleens— Have sold their fortunes at their native homes, Bearing their birthrights proudly on their backs, 70 To make a hazard of new fortunes here. In brief, a braver choice of dauntless spirits Than now the English bottoms have waft o’er Did never float upon the swelling tide To do offence and scathe in Christendom. 75 Drum beats The interruption of their churlish drums Cuts off more circumstance. They are at hand; To parley or to fight therefore prepare. KING PHILIP How much unlooked-for is this expedition I AUSTRIA By how much unexpected, by so much 80 We must awake endeavour for defence, For courage mounteth with occasion. Let them be welcome then: we are prepared. Enter, ⌈marching,⌉ King John of England, the Bastard, Queen Eleanor, Lady Blanche, the Earl of Pembroke, and soldiers KING JOHN Peace be to France, if France in peace permit Our just and lineal entrance to our own. 85 If not, bleed France, and peace ascend to heaven, Whiles we, God’s wrathful agent, do correct Their proud contempt that beats his peace to heaven. KING PHILIP Peace be to England, if that war return From France to England, there to live in peace. England we love, and for that England’s sake With burden of our armour here we sweat. This toil of ours should be a work of thine; But thou from loving England art so far That thou hast underwrought his lawful king, 95 Cut off the sequence of posterity, Outfaced infant state, and done a rape Upon the maiden virtue of the crown. (Pointing to Arthur) Look here upon thy brother Geoffrey’s face. These eyes, these brows, were moulded out of his; 100 This little abstract doth contain that large Which died in Geoffrey; and the hand of time Shall draw this brief into as huge a volume. That Geoffrey was thy elder brother born, And this his son; England was Geoffrey’s right, 105 And this is Geoffrey’s. In the name of God, How comes it then that thou art called a king, When living blood doth in these temples beat, Which owe the crown that thou o’ermasterest? KING JOHN From whom hast thou this great commission, France, To draw my answer from thy articles? 111 KING PHILIP From that supernal judge that stirs good thoughts In any breast of strong authority To look into the blots and stains of right. That judge hath made me guardian to this boy, 115 Under whose warrant I impeach thy wrong, And by whose help I mean to chastise it. KING JOHN Alack, thou dost usurp authority. KING PHILIP Excuse it is to beat usurping down. QUEEN ELEANOR Who is it thou dost call usurper, France? 120 CONSTANCE Let me make answer: thy usurping son. QUEEN ELEANOR Out, insolent! Thy bastard shall be king That thou mayst be a queen and check the world. CONSTANCE My bed was ever to thy son as true As thine was to thy husband; and this boy 125 Liker in feature to his father Geoffrey Than thou and John in manners, being as like As rain to water, or devil to his dam. My boy a bastard? By my soul I think His father never was so true begot. 130 It cannot be, an if thou wert his mother. QUEEN ELEANOR (to Arthur) There’s a good mother, boy, that blots thy father. CONSTANCE (to Arthur) There’s a good grandam, boy, that would blot thee. AUSTRIA Peace! BASTARD Hear the crier! AUSTRIA What the devil art thou? BASTARD One that will play the devil, sir, with you, 135 An a may catch your hide and you alone. You are the hare of whom the proverb goes, Whose valour plucks dead lions by the beard. I’ll smoke your skin-coat an I catch you right— Sirrah, look to’t—i’faith I will, i’faith!! 140 BLANCHE O, well did he become that lion’s robe That did disrobe the lion of that robe! BASTARD It lies as sightly on the back of him As great Alcides’ shows upon an ass. But, ass, I’ll take that burden from your back, 145 Or lay on that shall make your shoulders crack. AUSTRIA What cracker is this same that deafs our ears With this abundance of superfluous breath ?— King Philip, determine what we shall do straight. ⌈KING PHILIPI⌉ Women and fools, break off your conference.—150 King John, this is the very sum of all: England and Ireland, Anjou, Touraine, Maine, In right of Arthur do I claim of thee. Wilt thou resign them and lay down thy arms? KING JOHN My life as soon. I do defy thee, France.—155 Arthur of Brittaine, yield thee to my hand, And out of my dear love I’ll give thee more Than e’er the coward hand of France can win. Submit thee, boy. QUEEN ELEANOR (to Arthur) Come to thy grandam, child. CONSTANCE (to Arthur) Do, child, go to it grandam, child. 160 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. 165 He weeps QUEEN ELEANOR 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, Draw those heaven-moving pearls from his poor eyes, Which heaven shall take in nature of a fee; 170 Ay, with these crystal beads heaven shall be bribed To do him justice and revenge on you. QUEEN ELEANOR Thou monstrous slanderer of heaven and earth ! CONSTANCE Thou monstrous injurer of heaven and earth I Call not me slanderer. Thou and thine usurp The dominations, royalties and rights Of this oppressed boy. This is thy eld’st 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 185 On this removed issue, plagued for her And with her plague; her sin his injury, Her injury the beadle to her sin; All punished in the person of this child, And all for her. A plague upon her! 190 QUEEN ELEANOR 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 cankered grandam’s will! KING PHILIP Peace, lady; pause or be more temperate. It ill beseems this presence to cry aim To these ill-tunèd repetitions.— Some trumpet summon hither to the walls These men of Angers. Let us hear them speak Whose title they admit, Arthur’s or John’s. 200 Trumpet sounds. Enter a Citizen upon the walls CITIZEN Who is it that hath warned us to the walls? KING PHILIP ’Tis France for England. KING JOHN England for itself. You men of Angers and my loving subjects— KING PHILIP You loving men of Angers, Arthur’s subjects, Our trumpet called you to this gentle parle—205 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 marched to your endamagement. The cannons have their bowels full of wrath, 210 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 Confront your city’s eyes, your winking gates; 215 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 fixèd beds of lime Had been dishabited, and wide havoc made 220 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 unscratched your city’s threatened cheeks, Behold the French, amazed, vouchsafe a parle; 226 And now instead of bullets wrapped 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; 230 Which trust accordingly, kind citizens, And let us in, your king, whose laboured 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. He takes Arthur’s hand Lo, in this right hand, whose protection Is most divinely vowed 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. 240 For this downtrodden 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 oppressèd child 245 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 sealed up: Our cannons’ malice vainly shall be spent Against th’invulnerable clouds of heaven, And with a blessèd and unvexed retire, With unhacked swords and helmets all unbruised, We will bear home that lusty blood again Which here we came to spout against your town, And leave your children, wives, and you in peace. But if you fondly pass our proffered offer, ’Tis not the roundure of your old-faced walls Can hide you from our messengers of war, 260 Though all these English and their discipline Were harboured in their rude circumference. Then tell us, shall your city call us lord In that behalf which we have challenged it, Or shall we give the signal to our rage, 265 And stalk in blood to our possession? CITIZEN In brief, we are the King of England’s subjects. For him and in his right we hold this town. KING JOHN Acknowledge then the King, and let me in. CITIZEN That can we not; but he that proves the king, 270 To him will we prove loyal; till that time Have we rammed up our gates against the world. KING JOHN Doth not the crown of England prove the king? And if not that, I bring you witnesses : Twice fifteen thousand hearts of England’s breed— BASTARD (aside) Bastards and else. 276 KING JOHN To verify our title with their lives. KING PHILIP As many and as well-born bloods as those— BASTARD (aside) Some bastards too. KING PHILIP Stand in his face to contradict his claim. 280 CITIZEN Till you compound whose right is worthiest, We for the worthiest hold the right from both. KING JOHN Then God forgive the sin of all those souls That to their everlasting residence, Before the dew of evening fall, shall fleet 285 In dreadful trial of our kingdom’s king. KING PHILIP Amen, Amen! Mount, chevaliers! To arms! BASTARD Saint George that swinged the dragon, and e’er since Sits on’s horseback at mine hostess’ door, Teach us some fence! (To Austria) Sirrah, were I at home 290 At your den, sirrah, with your lioness, I would set an ox-head to your lion’s hide And make a monster of you. AUSTRIA Peace, no more. BASTARD O tremble, for you hear the lion roar! KING JOHN Up higher to the plain, where we’ll set forth 295 In best appointment all our regiments. BASTARD Speed then, to take advantage of the field. KING PHILIP It shall be so, and at the other hill Command the rest to stand. God and our right! Exeunt ⌈severally⌉ King John and King Philip with their powers. The Citizen remains on the walls ⌈Alarum.⌉ Here, after excursions, enter ⌈at one door⌉ FRENCH HERALD You men of Angers, open wide your gates 300 And let young Arthur Duke of Brittaine in, Who by the hand of France this day hath made Much work for tears in many an English mother, Whose sons lie scattered on the bleeding ground; Many a widow’s husband grovelling lies, 305 Coldly embracing the discoloured earth; And victory with little loss doth play Upon the dancing banners of the French, Who are at hand, triumphantly displayed, To enter conquerors, and to proclaim 310 Arthur of Brittaine England’s king and yours. Enter ⌈at another door⌉ the English Herald, with a trumpeter ENGLISH HERALD Rejoice, you men of Angers, ring your bells! King John, your king and England’s, doth approach, Commander of this hot malicious day. Their armours that marched hence so silver-bright 315 Hither return all gilt with Frenchmen’s blood. There stuck no plume in any English crest That is removed by a staff of France; Our colours do return in those same hands That did display them when we first marched forth; And like a jolly troop of huntsmen come 321 Our lusty English, all with purpled hands Dyed in the dying slaughter of their foes. Open your gates and give the victors way. ⌈CITIZEN⌉ Heralds, from off our towers we might behold 325 From first to last the onset and retire Of both your armies, whose equality By our best eyes cannot be censurèd. Blood hath bought blood and blows have answered blows, Strength matched with strength and power confronted power. 330 Both are alike, and both alike we like. One must prove greatest. While they weigh so even, We hold our town for neither, yet for both. Enter at one door King John, the Bastard, Queen Eleanor and Lady Blanche, with soldiers; at another door King Philip, Louis the Dauphin, and the Duke of Austria with soldiers KING JOHN France, hast thou yet more blood to cast away? Say, shall the current of our right run on, 335 Whose passage, vexed with thy impediment, Shall leave his native channel and o’erswell With course disturbed even thy confining shores, Unless thou let his silver water keep A peaceful progress to the ocean? 340 KING PHILIP England, thou hast not saved one drop of blood In this hot trial more than we of France; Rather, lost more. And by this hand I swear, That sways the earth this climate overlooks, Before we will lay down our just-borne arms, 345 We’ll put thee down ’gainst whom these arms we bear, Or add a royal number to the dead, Gracing the scroll that tells of this war’s loss With slaughter coupled to the name of kings. BASTARD Ha, majesty! How high thy glory towers 350 When the rich blood of kings is set on fire! O, now doth Death line his dead chaps with steel; The swords of soldiers are his teeth, his fangs; And now he feasts, mousing the flesh of men In undetermined differences of kings. Why stand these royal fronts amazed thus? Cry havoc, Kings! Back to the stained field, You equal potents, fiery-kindled spirits! Then let confusion of one part confirm The other’s peace; till then, blows, blood, and death! KING JOHN Whose party do the townsmen yet admit? KING PHILIP Speak, citizens, for England: who’s your king? ⌈CITIZEN⌉ The King of England, when we know the King. KING PHILIP Know him in us, that here hold up his right. KING JOHN In us, that are our own great deputy And bear possession of our person here, Lord of our presence, Angers, and of you. [CITIZEN⌉ A greater power than we denies all this, And, till it be undoubted, we do lock Our former scruple in our strong-barred gates, 370 Kinged of our fear, until our fears resolved Be by some certain king, purged and deposed. BASTARD By heaven, these scroyles of Angers flout you, Kings, And stand securely on their battlements As in a theatre, whence they gape and point 375 At your industrious scenes and acts of death. Your royal presences be ruled by me. Do like the mutines of Jerusalem: Be friends awhile, and both conjointly bend Your sharpest deeds of malice on this town. 380 By east and west let France and England mount Their battering cannon, charged to the mouths, Till their soul-fearing clamours have brawled down The flinty ribs of this contemptuous city. I’d play incessantly upon these jades, Even till unfenced desolation Leave them as naked as the vulgar air. That done, dissever your united strengths, And part your mingled colours once again; Turn face to face, and bloody point to point. Then in a moment Fortune shall cull forth Out of one side her happy minion, To whom in favour she shall give the day, And kiss him with a glorious victory. How like you this wild counsel, mighty states? Smacks it not something of the policy ? KING JOHN Now, by the sky that hangs above our heads, I like it well.-France, shall we knit our powers, And lay this Angers even with the ground, Then after fight who shall be king of it? BASTARD (to King Philip) An if thou hast the mettle of a king, Being wronged as we are by this peevish town, Turn thou the mouth of thy artillery, As we will ours, against these saucy walls; And when that we have dashed them to the ground, Why, then defy each other, and pell-mell Make work upon ourselves, for heaven or hell. KING PHILIP Let it be so.-Say, where will you assault? KING JOHN We from the west will send destruction Into this city’s bosom. AUSTRIA I from the north. KING PHILIP Our thunder from the south Shall rain their drift of bullets on this town. BASTARD ⌈to King John⌉ O prudent discipline! From north to south Austria and France shoot in each other’s mouth. I’ll stir them to it. Come, away, away! ⌈CITIZEN⌉ Hear us, great Kings, vouchsafe a while to stay, And I shall show you peace and fair-faced league. Win you this city without stroke or wound; Rescue those breathing lives to die in beds, 420 That here come sacrifices for the field. Persever not, but hear me, mighty Kings. KING JOHN Speak on with favour; we are bent to hear. ⌈CITIZEN⌉ That daughter there of Spain, the Lady Blanche, Is niece to England. Look upon the years 425 Of Louis the Dauphin and that lovely maid. If lusty love should go in quest of beauty, Where should he find it fairer than in Blanche? If zealous love should go in search of virtue, Where should he find it purer than in Blanche? 430 If love ambitious sought a match of birth, Whose veins bound richer blood than Lady Blanche? Such as she is in beauty, virtue, birth, Is the young Dauphin every way complete; If not complete, O, say he is not she; 435 And she again wants nothing—to name want— If want it be not that she is not he. He is the half part of a blessed man, Left to be finished by such as she; And she a fair divided excellence, 440 Whose fullness of perfection lies in him. O, two such silver currents when they join Do glorify the banks that bound them in, And two such shores to two such streams made one, Two such controlling bounds, shall you be, Kings, 445 To these two princes if you marry them. This union shall do more than battery can To our fast-closed gates, for at this match, With swifter spleen than powder can enforce, The mouth of passage shall we fling wide ope, 450 And give you entrance. But without this match The sea enraged is not half so deaf, Lions more confident, mountains and rocks More free from motion, no, not Death himself In mortal fury half so peremptory, 455 As we to keep this city. BASTARD ⌈aside⌉ Here’s a stay That shakes the rotten carcass of old Death Out of his rags. Here’s a large mouth, indeed, That spits forth Death and mountains, rocks and seas, Talks as familiarly of roaring lions 460 As maids of thirteen do of puppy-dogs. What cannoneer begot this lusty blood? He speaks plain cannon: fire, and smoke, and bounce; He gives the bastinado with his tongue; Our ears are cudgelled; not a word of his 465 But buffets better than a fist of France. Zounds! I was never so bethumped with words Since I first called my brother’s father Dad. QUEEN ELEANOR (aside to King John) Son, list to this conjunction, make this match, Give with our niece a dowry large enough; 470 For, by this knot, thou shalt so surely tie Thy now unsured assurance to the crown That yon green boy shall have no sun to ripe The bloom that promiseth a mighty fruit. I see a yielding in the looks of France; 475 Mark how they whisper. Urge them while their souls Are capable of this ambition, Lest zeal, now melted by the windy breath Of soft petitions, pity, and remorse, Cool and congeal again to what it was. ⌈CITIZEN⌉ Why answer not the double majesties This friendly treaty of our threatened town? KING PHILIP Speak England first, that hath been forward first To speak unto this city: what say you? KING JOHN If that the Dauphin there, thy princely son, 485 Can in this book of beauty read ‘I love’, Her dowry shall weigh equal with a queen; For Anjou and fair Touraine, Maine, Poitou, And all that we upon this side the sea— Except this city now by us besieged—490 Find liable to our crown and dignity, Shall gild her bridal bed, and make her rich In titles, honours, and promotions, As she in beauty, education, blood, Holds hand with any princess of the world. 495 KING PHILIP What sayst thou, boy? Look in the lady’s face. LOUIS THE DAUPHIN I do, my lord, and in her eye I find A wonder, or a wondrous miracle, The shadow of myself formed in her eye; Which, being but the shadow of your son, 500 Becomes a sun and makes your son a shadow. I do protest I never loved myself Till now enfixèd I beheld myself Drawn in the flattering table of her eye. He whispers with Blanche BASTARD (aside) Drawn in the flattering table of her eye, 505 Hanged in the frowning wrinkle of her brow, And quartered in her heart: he doth espy Himself love’s traitor. This is pity now, That hanged and drawn and quartered there should be In such a love so vile a lout as he. 510 BLANCHE (to Louis the Dauphin) My uncle’s will in this respect is mine. If he see aught in you that makes him like, That anything 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 see in you, Though churlish thoughts themselves should be your judge, 520 That I can find should merit any hate. KING JOHN What say these young ones? What say you, my niece? BLANCHE That she is bound in honour still to do What you in wisdom shall vouchsafe to say. KING JOHN Speak then, Prince Dauphin, can you love this lady? LOUIS THE DAUPHIN Nay, ask me if I can refrain from love, 526 For I do love her most unfeignedly. KING JOHN Then do I give Volquessen, Touraine, Maine, Poitou, and Anjou, these five provinces, With her to thee, and this addition more: 530 Full thirty thousand marks of English coin. Philip of France, if thou be pleased withal, Command thy son and daughter to join hands. KING PHILIP It likes us well.—Young princes, close your hands. AUSTRIA And your lips too, for I am well assured 535 That I did so when I was first assured. ⌈Louis the Dauphin and Lady Blanche join hands and kiss⌉ KING PHILIP Now citizens of Angers, ope your gates. Let in that amity which you have made, For at Saint Mary’s chapel presently The rites of marriage shall be solemnized.—540 Is not the Lady Constance in this troop? (Aside) I know she is not, for this match made up Her presence would have interrupted much. (Aloud) Where is she and her son ? Tell me who knows. LOUIS THE DAUPHIN She is sad and passionate at your highness’ tent. 545 KING PHILIP And by my faith this league that we have made Will give her sadness very little cure.— Brother of England, how may we content This widow lady? In her right we came, Which we, God knows, have turned another way 550 To our own vantage. KING JOHN We will heal up all, For we’ll create young Arthur Duke of Brittaine 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 satisfy her so That we shall stop her exclamation. Go we as well as haste will suffer us 560 To this unlooked-for, unprepared pomp. ⌈Flourish.⌉ Exeunt all but the Bastard BASTARD Mad world, mad kings, mad composition! John, 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 566 As God’s own soldier, rounded in the ear With that same purpose-changer, that sly devil, That broker that still breaks the pate of faith, That daily break-vow, he that wins of all, 570 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-faced gentleman, tickling commodity; Commodity, the bias of the world, 575 The world who of itself is peisèd well, Made to run even upon even ground, Till this advantage, this vile-drawing bias, This sway of motion, this commodity, Makes it take head from all indifferency, 580 From all direction, purpose, course, intent; And this same bias, this commodity, This bawd, this broker, this all-changing word, Clapped on the outward eye of fickle France, Hath drawn him from his own determined aid, 585 From a resolved and honourable war, To a most base and vile-concluded peace. And why rail I on this commodity? But for because he hath not wooed me yet— Not that I have the power to clutch my hand 590 When his fair angels would salute my palm, But for my hand, as unattempted yet, Like a poor beggar raileth on the rich. Well, whiles I am a beggar I will rail, And say there is no sin but to be rich, 595 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. Exit

Atto 2, Scena 2

Speaker	Line
(didascalia)	Enter Lady Constance, Arthur Duke of Brittaine, and the Earl of Salisbury
CONSTANCE	(to Salisbury) Gone to be married? Gone to swear a peace? False blood to false blood joined! Gone to be friends? Shall Louis have Blanche, and Blanche those provinces? It is not so, thou hast misspoke, misheard. Be well advised, tell o‘er thy tale again. It cannot be, thou dost but say ’tis so. 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. 10 Thou shalt be punished for thus frighting me; For I am sick and capable of fears; Oppressed with wrongs, and therefore full of fears; A widow husbandless, subject to fears; A woman naturally born to fears; 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.
(didascalia)	She sits upon the ground
CONSTANCE	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.
(didascalia)	Exeunt Salisbury and Arthur
(didascalia)	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. Arm, arm, you heavens, against these perjured Kings! A widow cries, be husband to me, God! Let not the hours of this ungodly day 35 Wear out the day in peace, but ere sun set Set armed discord ’twixt these perjured Kings. Hear me, O hear me!
AUSTRIA	Lady Constance, peace.
CONSTANCE	War, war, no peace! Peace is to me a war. O Limoges, O Austria, thou dost shame 40 That bloody spoil. Thou slave, thou wretch, thou coward! Thou little valiant, great in villainy; Thou ever strong upon the stronger side; Thou Fortune’s champion, that dost never fight But when her humorous ladyship is by 45 To teach thee safety. Thou art perjured too, And sooth‘st up greatness. What a fool art thou, A ramping fool, to brag and stamp, and swear Upon my party! Thou cold-blooded slave, Hast thou not spoke like thunder on my side, 50 Been sworn my soldier, bidding me depend Upon thy stars, thy fortune, and thy strength? And dost thou now fall over to my foes? Thou wear a lion’s hide! Doff it, for shame, And hang a calf’s-skin on those recreant limbs. 55
AUSTRIA	O, that a man should speak those words to me!
BASTARD	And hang a calf’s-skin on those recreant limbs.
AUSTRIA	Thou dar’st not say so, villain, for thy life.
BASTARD	And hang a calf’s-skin on those recreant limbs.
KING JOHN	(to the Bastard) We like not this. Thou dost forget thyself. 60
(didascalia)	Enter Cardinal Pandolf
KING PHILIP	Here comes the holy legate of the Pope.
PANDOLF	Hail, you anointed deputies of God.— To thee, King John, my holy errand is. I Pandolf, of fair Milan Cardinal, And from Pope Innocent the legate here, 65 Do in his name religiously demand Why thou against the Church, our Holy Mother, So wilfully dost spurn, and force perforce Keep Stephen Langton, chosen Archbishop Of Canterbury, from that holy see. 70 This, in our foresaid Holy Father’s name, Pope Innocent, I do demand of thee.
KING JOHN	What earthy name to interrogatories Can task the free breath of a sacred king? Thou canst not, Cardinal, devise a name 75 So slight, unworthy, and ridiculous To charge me to an answer, as the Pope. Tell him this tale, and from the mouth of England Add thus much more: that no Italian priest Shall tithe or toll in our dominions; 80 But as we, under God, are supreme head, So, under him, that great supremacy Where we do reign we will alone uphold Without th’assistance of a mortal hand. So tell the Pope, all reverence set apart To him and his usurped authority.
KING PHILIP	Brother of England, you blaspheme in this.
KING JOHN	Though you and all the kings of Christendom Are led so grossly by this meddling priest, Dreading the curse that money may buy out, 90 And by the merit of vile gold, dross, dust, Purchase corrupted pardon of a man, Who in that sale sells pardon from himself; Though you and all the rest so grossly led This juggling witchcraft with revenue cherish; 95 Yet I alone, alone do me oppose Against the Pope, and count his friends my foes.
PANDOLF	Then by the lawful power that I have Thou shalt stand cursed and excommunicate; And blessed shall he be that doth revolt 100 From his allegiance to an heretic; And meritorious shall that hand be called, Canonized and worshipped as a saint, That takes away by any secret course Thy hateful life.
CONSTANCE	O lawful let it be 105 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.
PANDOLF	There’s law and warrant, lady, for my curse. 110
CONSTANCE	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?
PANDOLF	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. 120
QUEEN ELEANOR	Look’st thou pale, France? Do not let go thy hand.
(didascalia)	CONSTANCE to King John
QUEEN ELEANOR	Look to it, devil, lest that France repent, And by disjoining hands hell lose a soul.
AUSTRIA	King Philip, listen to the Cardinal.
BASTARD	And hang a calf’s-skin on his recreant limbs. 125
AUSTRIA	Well, ruffian, I must pocket up these wrongs, Because—
BASTARD	Your breeches best may carry them.
KING JOHN	Philip, what sayst thou to the Cardinal?
CONSTANCE	What should he say, but as the Cardinal?
LOUIS THE DAUPHIN	Bethink you, Father, for the difference 130 Is purchase of a heavy curse from Rome, Or the light loss of England for a friend. Forgo the easier.
BLANCHE	That’s the curse of Rome.
CONSTANCE	O Louis, stand fast; the devil tempts thee here In likeness of a new untrimmèd bride. 135
BLANCHE	The Lady Constance speaks not from her faith, But from her need.
(didascalia)	CONSTANCE to King Philip O if thou grant my need,
BLANCHE	Which only lives but by the death of faith, That need must needs infer this principle: That faith would live again by death of need. 140 O, then tread down my need, and faith mounts up; Keep my need up, and faith is trodden down.
KING JOHN	The King is moved, and answers not to this.
CONSTANCE	(to King Philip) O, be removed from him, and answer well.
AUSTRIA	Do so, King Philip, hang no more in doubt. 145
BASTARD	Hang nothing but a calf’s-skin, most sweet lout.
KING PHILIP	I am perplexed, and know not what to say.
PANDOLF	What canst thou say but will perplex thee more, If thou stand excommunicate and cursed?
KING PHILIP	Good Reverend Father, make my person yours, 150 And tell me how you would bestow yourself. This royal hand and mine are newly knit, And the conjunction of our inward souls Married in league, coupled and linked together With all religious strength of sacred vows; 155 The latest breath that gave the sound of words Was deep-sworn faith, peace, amity, true love, Between our kingdoms and our royal selves; And even before this truce, but new before, No longer than we well could wash our hands 160 To clap this royal bargain up of peace, God knows, they were besmeared and over-stained With slaughter’s pencil, where Revenge did paint The fearful difference of incensed kings; And shall these hands, so lately purged of blood, 165 So newly joined in love, so strong in both, Unyoke this seizure and this kind regreet, Play fast and loose with faith, so jest with heaven, Make such unconstant children of ourselves, As now again to snatch our palm from palm, 170 Unswear faith sworn, and on the marriage-bed Of smiling peace to march a bloody host, And make a riot on the gentle brow Of true sincerity? O holy sir, My Reverend Father, let it not be so. 175 Out of your grace, devise, ordain, impose Some gentle order, and then we shall be blessed To do your pleasure and continue friends.
PANDOLF	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 mayst hold a serpent by the tongue, A crazed lion by the mortal paw, 185 A fasting tiger safer by the tooth, Than keep in peace that hand which thou dost hold.
KING PHILIP	I may disjoin my hand, but not my faith.
PANDOLF	So mak‘st thou faith an enemy to faith, And like a civil war, sett’st oath to oath, 190 Thy tongue against thy tongue. O, let thy vow, First made to heaven, first be to heaven performed; That is, to be the champion of our Church. What since thou swor‘st is sworn against thyself, And may not be performèd by thyself; 195 For that which thou hast sworn to do amiss Is not amiss when it is truly done; And being not done where doing tends to ill, The truth is then most done not doing it. The better act of purposes mistook 200 Is to mistake again; though indirect, Yet indirection thereby grows direct, And falsehood falsehood cures, as fire cools fire
(didascalia)	Within the scorchèd veins of one new burned.
PANDOLF	It is religion that doth make vows kept; But thou hast sworn against religion; By what thou swear’st, against the thing thou swear‘st; And mak’st an oath the surety for thy troth: Against an oath, the truth. Thou art unsure To swear: swear’st only not to be forsworn—210 Else what a mockery should it be to swear!— But thou dost swear only to be forsworn, And most forsworn to keep what thou dost swear; Therefore thy later vows against thy first Is in thyself rebellion to thyself, 215 And better conquest never canst thou make Than arm thy constant and thy nobler parts Against these giddy loose suggestions; Upon which better part our prayers come in If thou vouchsafe them. But if not, then know 220 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.
AUSTRIA	Rebellion, flat rebellion!
BASTARD	Wilt not be? Will not a calf’s-skin stop that mouth of thine? 225
LOUIS THE DAUPHIN	Father, to arms!
BLANCHE	Upon thy wedding day? Against the blood that thou hast married ? What, shall our feast be kept with slaughtered men? Shall braying trumpets and loud churlish drums, Clamours of hell, be measures to our pomp? 230 She kneels O husband, hear me ! Ay, alack, how new Is ‘husband’ in my mouth! 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.
CONSTANCE	(kneeling) O, upon my knee 235 Made hard with kneeling, I do pray to thee, Thou virtuous Dauphin, alter not the doom Forethought by heaven.
BLANCHE	(to Louis the Dauphin) Now shall I see thy love: what motive may Be stronger with thee than the name of wife? 240
CONSTANCE	That which upholdeth him that thee upholds: His honour.—O thine honour, Louis, thine honour!
LOUIS THE DAUPHIN	(to King Philip) I muse your majesty doth seem so cold When such profound respects do pull you on.
PANDOLF	I will denounce a curse upon his head. 245
KING PHILIP	Thou shalt not need.—England, I will fall from thee.
(didascalia)	He takes his hand from King John’s hand. Blanche and Constance rise
CONSTANCE	O, fair return of banished majesty!
QUEEN ELEANOR	O, foul revolt of French inconstancy I
KING JOHN	France, thou shalt rue this hour within this hour.
BASTARD	Old Time the clock-setter, that bald sexton Time, 250 Is it as he will?—Well then, France shall rue.
BLANCHE	The sun’s o’ercast with blood; fair day, adieu! Which is the side that I must go withal? I am with both, each army hath a hand, And in their rage, I having hold of both, 255 They whirl asunder and dismember me. Husband, I cannot pray that thou mayst win.— Uncle, I needs must pray that thou mayst lose.— Father, I may not wish the fortune thine.— Grandam, I will not wish thy wishes thrive. Whoever wins, on that side shall I lose, Assured loss before the match be played.
LOUIS THE DAUPHIN	Lady, with me, with me thy fortune lies.
BLANCHE	There where my fortune lives, there my life dies.
KING JOHN	(to the Bastard) Cousin, go draw our puissance together.—
(didascalia)	Exit the Bastard
KING JOHN	France, I am burned up with inflaming wrath, A rage whose heat hath this condition: That nothing can allay, nothing but blood, The blood, and dearest-valued blood, of France.
KING PHILIP	Thy rage shall burn thee up, and thou shalt turn 270 To ashes ere our blood shall quench that fire. Look to thyself, thou art in jeopardy.
KING JOHN	No more than he that threats.—To arms let’s hie!
(didascalia)	Exeunt severally

Atto 3, Scena 2

Speaker	Line
(didascalia)	Alarum; excursions. Enter the Bastard, with the Duke of Austria’s head
BASTARD	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.
(didascalia)	Enter King John, Arthur Duke of Brittaine, and Hubert
KING JOHN	Hubert, keep this boy.—Philip, make up! 5 My mother is assailed in our tent, And ta’en I fear.
BASTARD	My lord, I rescued her; Her highness is in safety; fear you not. But on, my liege, for very little pains Will bring this labour to an happy end. 10
(didascalia)	Exeunt King John and the Bastard at one door, Hubert and Arthur at another door

Atto 3, Scena 3

Speaker	Line
(didascalia)	Alarum; excursions; retreat. Enter King John, Queen Eleanor, Arthur Duke of Brittaine, the Bastard, Hubert, lords, with soldiers
KING JOHN	(to Queen Eleanor) 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.
ARTHUR	O, this will make my mother die with grief. 5
KING JOHN	(to the Bastard) Cousin, away for England! Haste before, And ere our coming, see thou shake the bags Of hoarding abbots. The fat ribs of peace Must by the hungry now be fed upon. Imprisoned angels set at liberty. 10 Use our commission in his utmost force.
BASTARD	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.
QUEEN ELEANOR	Farewell, gentle cousin.
KING JOHN	Coz, farewell. Exit the Bastard
QUEEN ELEANOR	Come hither, little kinsman. Hark, a word. She takes Arthur aside
KING JOHN	Come hither, Hubert. He takes Hubert aside O my gentle Hubert, We owe thee much. Within this wall of flesh 20 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. He takes Hubert’s hand I had a thing to say, 25 But I will fit it with some better tune. By heaven, Hubert, I am almost ashamed To say what good respect I have of thee.
HUBERT	I am much bounden to your majesty.
KING JOHN	Good friend, thou hast no cause to say so yet, 30 But thou shalt have; and creep time ne‘er so slow, Yet it shall 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, 35 Is all too wanton and too full of gauds To give me audience. If the midnight bell Did with his iron tongue and brazen mouth
(didascalia)	Sound on into the drowsy race of night;
KING JOHN	If this same were a churchyard where we stand, 40 And thou possessed with a thousand wrongs; Or if that surly spirit, melancholy, Had baked thy blood and made it heavy, thick, Which else runs tickling up and down the veins, Making that idiot, laughter, keep men’s eyes 45 And strain their cheeks to idle merriment— A passion hateful to my purposes— Or if that thou couldst 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 broad-eyed 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.
HUBERT	So well that what you bid me undertake, Though that my death were adjunct to my act, By heaven, I would do it.
KING JOHN	Do not I know thou wouldst? Good Hubert, Hubert, Hubert, throw thine eye On yon 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.
HUBERT	And I’ll keep him so That he shall not offend your majesty. 65
KING JOHN	Death.
HUBERT	My lord.
KING JOHN	A grave.
HUBERT	He shall not live.
KING JOHN	Enough. I could be merry now. Hubert, I love thee. Well, I’ll not say what I intend for thee. Remember. (To Queen Eleanor) Madam, fare you well. I’ll send those powers o’er to your majesty. 70
QUEEN ELEANOR	My blessing go with thee.
KING JOHN	(to Arthur) For England, cousin, go. Hubert shall be your man, attend on you With all true duty.—On toward Calais, ho!
(didascalia)	Exeunt Queen Eleanor, attended, at one door, the rest at another door

Atto 3, Scena 4

Speaker	Line
(didascalia)	Enter King Philip, Louis the Dauphin, Cardinal Pandolf, and attendants
KING PHILIP	So, by a roaring tempest on the flood, A whole armada of convicted sail Is scattered and disjoined from fellowship.
PANDOLF	Courage and comfort; all shall yet go well.
KING PHILIP	What can go well when we have run so ill? Are we not beaten? Is not Angers lost, Arthur ta‘en prisoner, divers dear friends slain, And bloody England into England gone, O’erbearing interruption, spite of France?
LOUIS THE DAUPHIN	What he hath won, that hath he fortified. 10 So hot a speed, with such advice disposed, Such temperate order in so fierce a cause, Doth want example. Who hath read or heard Of any kindred action like to this?
KING PHILIP	Well could I bear that England had this praise, 15 So we could find some pattern of our shame.
(didascalia)	Enter Constance, distracted, with her hair about her ears
KING PHILIP	Look who comes here! A grave unto a soul, Holding th’eternal spirit against her will In the vile prison of afflicted breath.— I prithee, lady, go away with me. 20
CONSTANCE	Lo, now, now see the issue of your peace!
KING PHILIP	Patience, good lady; comfort, gentle Constance.
CONSTANCE	No, I defy all counsel, all redress, But that which ends all counsel, true redress: Death, Death, O amiable, lovely Death! 25 Thou odoriferous stench, sound rottenness! Arise forth from the couch of lasting night, Thou hate and terror to prosperity, And I will kiss thy detestable bones, And put my eyeballs in thy vaulty brows, 30 And ring these fingers with thy household worms, And stop this gap of breath with fulsome dust, And be a carrion monster like thyself. Come grin on me, and I will think thou smil’st, And buss thee as thy wife. Misery’s love, 35 O, come to me!
KING PHILIP	O fair affliction, peace I
CONSTANCE	No, no, I will not, having breath to cry. O, that my tongue were in the thunder’s mouth! Then with a passion would I shake the world, And rouse from sleep that fell anatomy, Which cannot hear a lady’s feeble voice, Which scorns a modern invocation.
PANDOLF	Lady, you utter madness, and not sorrow.
CONSTANCE	Thou art not holy to belie me so. I am not mad: this hair I tear is mine; My name is Constance; I was Geoffrey’s wife; Young Arthur is my son; and he is lost. I am not mad; I would to God I were, For then ’tis like I should forget myself. O,if I could, what grief should I forget ! 50 Preach some philosophy to make me mad, And thou shalt be canonized, Cardinal. For, being not mad, but sensible of grief, My reasonable part produces reason How I may be delivered of these woes, 55 And teaches me to kill or hang myself. If I were mad I should forget my son, Or madly think a babe of clouts were he. I am not mad; too well, too well I feel The different plague of each calamity. 60
KING PHILIP	Bind up those tresses. O,what love I note In the fair multitude of those her hairs! Where but by chance a silver drop hath fallen, Even to that drop ten thousand wiry friends Do glue themselves in sociable grief, 65 Like true, inseparable, faithful loves, Sticking together in calamity.
CONSTANCE	To England, if you will.
KING PHILIP	Bind up your hairs.
CONSTANCE	Yes, that I will. And wherefore will I do it? I tore them from their bonds, and cried aloud, ‘O that these hands could so redeem my son, As they have given these hairs their liberty!’ But now I envy at their liberty, And will again commit them to their bonds, Because my poor child is a prisoner. 75 She binds up her hair And Father Cardinal, I have heard you say That we shall see and know our friends in heaven. If that be true, I shall see my boy again; For since the birth of Cain, the first male child, To him that did but yesterday suspire, 80 There was not such a gracious creature born. But now will canker-sorrow eat my bud, And chase the native beauty from his cheek; And he will look as hollow as a ghost, As dim and meagre as an ague’s fit, And so he’ll die; and rising so again, When I shall meet him in the court of heaven, I shall not know him; therefore never, never Must I behold my pretty Arthur more.
PANDOLF	You hold too heinous a respect of grief.
CONSTANCE	He talks to me that never had a son.
KING PHILIP	You are as fond of grief as of your child.
CONSTANCE	Grief fills the room up of my absent child, Lies in his bed, walks up and down with me, Puts on his pretty looks, repeats his words, Remembers me of all his gracious parts, Stuffs out his vacant garments with his form; Then have I reason to be fond of grief. Fare you well. Had you such a loss as I, I could give better comfort than you do. 100
(didascalia)	She unbinds her hair
CONSTANCE	I will not keep this form upon my head When there is such disorder in my wit. O Lord, my boy, my Arthur, my fair son, My life, my joy, my food, my all the world, 104 My widow-comfort, and my sorrow’s cure! Exit
(didascalia)	I fear some outrage, and I’ll follow her. Exit attended
LOUIS THE DAUPHIN	There’s nothing in this world can make me joy. Life is as tedious as a twice-told tale, Vexing the dull ear of a drowsy man; And bitter shame hath spoiled the sweet world’s taste, That it yields naught but shame and bitterness. 111
PANDOLF	Before the curing of a strong disease, Even in the instant of repair and health, The fit is strongest. Evils that take leave, On their departure most of all show evil. 115 What have you lost by losing of this day?
LOUIS THE DAUPHIN	All days of glory, joy, and happiness.
PANDOLF	If you had won it, certainly you had. No, no; when Fortune means to men most good, She looks upon them with a threat‘ning eye. ’Tis strange to think how much King John hath lost In this which he accounts so clearly won. Are not you grieved that Arthur is his prisoner?
LOUIS THE DAUPHIN	As heartily as he is glad he hath him.
PANDOLF	Your mind is all as youthful as your blood. 125 Now hear me speak with a prophetic spirit, For even the breath of what I mean to speak Shall blow each dust, each straw, each little rub, Out of the path which shall directly lead Thy foot to England’s throne. And therefore mark. John hath seized Arthur, and it cannot be That whiles warm life plays in that infant’s veins The misplaced John should entertain an hour, One minute, nay, one quiet breath of rest. A sceptre snatched with an unruly hand Must be as boisterously maintained as gained; And he that stands upon a slipp’ry place Makes nice of no vile hold to stay him up. That John may stand, then Arthur needs must fall; So be it, for it cannot be but so.
LOUIS THE DAUPHIN	But what shall I gain by young Arthur’s fall?
PANDOLF	You, in the right of Lady Blanche your wife, May then make all the claim that Arthur did.
LOUIS THE DAUPHIN	And lose it, life and all, as Arthur did.
PANDOLF	How green you are, and fresh in this old world 145 John lays you plots; the times conspire with you; For he that steeps his safety in true blood Shall find but bloody safety and untrue. This act, so vilely born, shall cool the hearts Of all his people, and freeze up their zeal, That none so small advantage shall step forth To check his reign but they will cherish it; No natural exhalation in the sky, No scope of nature, no distempered day, No common wind, no customèd event, 155 But they will pluck away his natural cause, And call them meteors, prodigies, and signs, Abortives, presages, and tongues of heaven Plainly denouncing vengeance upon John.
LOUIS THE DAUPHIN	Maybe he will not touch young Arthur’s life, But hold himself safe in his prisonment.
PANDOLF	O sir, when he shall hear of your approach, If that young Arthur be not gone already, Even at that news he dies; and then the hearts Of all his people shall revolt from him, And kiss the lips of unacquainted change, And pick strong matter of revolt and wrath Out of the bloody fingers’ ends of John. Methinks I see this hurly all on foot, And O, what better matter breeds for you 170 Than I have named! The Bastard Falconbridge Is now in England, ransacking the Church, Offending charity. If but a dozen French Were there in arms, they would be as a call To train ten thousand English to their side, 175 Or as a little snow tumbled about Anon becomes a mountain. O noble Dauphin, Go with me to the King. ’Tis wonderful What may be wrought out of their discontent Now that their souls are top-full of offence. 180 For England, go! I will whet on the King.
LOUIS THE DAUPHIN	Strong reasons make strange actions. Let us go. If you say ay, the King will not say no. Exeunt

Atto 4, Scena 1

Speaker	Line
(didascalia)	Enter Hubert, and Executioners with a rope and irons
HUBERT	Heat me these irons hot, and look thou stand
(didascalia)	Within the arras. When I strike my foot
HUBERT	Upon the bosom of the ground, rush forth And bind the boy which you shall find with me Fast to the chair. Be heedful. Hence, and watch! 5
EXECUTIONER	I hope your warrant will bear out the deed.
HUBERT	Uncleanly scruples: fear not you. Look to’t!
(didascalia)	The Executioners withdraw behind the arras
HUBERT	Young lad, come forth, I have to say with you.
(didascalia)	Enter Arthur Duke of Brittaine
ARTHUR	Good morrow, Hubert. Good morrow, little Prince.
ARTHUR	As little prince, having so great a title 10 To be more prince, as may be. You are sad.
HUBERT	Indeed I have been merrier. ARTHURMercy on me! Methinks nobody should be sad but I. Yet I remember, when I was in France, Young gentlemen would be as sad as night 15 Only for wantonness. By my christendom, So I were out of prison and kept sheep, I should be as merry as the day is long; And so I would be here, but that I doubt My uncle practises more harm to me. 20 He is afraid of me, and I of him. Is it my fault that I was Geoffrey’s son? No, indeed is’t not, and I would to God I were your son, so you would love me, Hubert.
HUBERT	(aside) If I talk to him, with his innocent prate 25 He will awake my mercy, which lies dead; Therefore I will be sudden, and dispatch.
ARTHUR	Are you sick, Hubert? You look pale today. In sooth, I would you were a little sick, That I might sit all night and watch with you. 30 I warrant I love you more than you do me. HUBERT(aside) His words do take possession of my bosom. He shows Arthur a paper Read here, young Arthur. (Aside) How now: foolish rheum, Turning dispiteous torture out of door? I must be brief, lest resolution drop Out at mine eyes in tender womanish tears. (To Arthur) Can you not read it? Is it not fair writ?
ARTHUR	Too fairly, Hubert, for so foul effect. Must you with hot irons burn out both mine eyes?
HUBERT	Young boy, I must.
ARTHUR	And will you? HUBERTAnd I will. 40
ARTHUR	Have you the heart? When your head did but ache I knit my handkerchief about your brows, The best I had—a princess wrought it me, And I did never ask it you again— And with my hand at midnight held your head, And like the watchful minutes to the hour Still and anon cheered up the heavy time, Saying ‘What lack you?’ and ‘Where lies your grief?’ Or ‘What good love may I perform for you?’ Many a poor man’s son would have lain still And ne’er have spoke a loving word to you, But you at your sick service had a prince. Nay, you may think my love was crafty love, And call it cunning. Do, an if you will. If heaven be pleased that you must use me ill, 55 Why then you must. Will you put out mine eyes, These eyes that never did, nor never shall, So much as frown on you?
HUBERTI	have sworn to do it, And with hot irons must I burn them out.
ARTHUR	Ah, none but in this iron age would do it. 60 The iron of itself, though heat red hot, Approaching near these eyes would drink my tears, And quench his fiery indignation Even in the matter of mine innocence; Nay, after that, consume away in rust, But for containing fire to harm mine eye. Are you more stubborn-hard than hammered iron? An if an angel should have come to me And told me Hubert should put out mine eyes, I would not have believed him; no tongue but Hubert’s. Hubert stamps his foot
HUBERT	Come forth! The Executioners come forth Do as I bid you do.
ARTHUR	O, save me, Hubert, save me! My eyes are out Even with the fierce looks of these bloody men.
HUBERT	(to the Executioners) Give me the iron, I say, and bind him here. He takes the iron
ARTHUR	Alas, what need you be so boisterous-rough? I will not struggle; I will stand stone-still. For God’s sake, Hubert, let me not be bound. Nay, hear me, Hubert Drive these men away, And I will sit as quiet as a lamb; I will not stir, nor wince, nor speak a word, 80 Nor look upon the iron angerly. Thrust but these men away, and I’ll forgive you, Whatever torment you do put me to.
HUBERT	(to the Executioners) Go stand within. Let me alone with him.
EXECUTIONER	I am best pleased to be from such a deed. 85
(didascalia)	Exeunt Executioners
ARTHUR	Alas, I then have chid away my friend! He hath a stern look, but a gentle heart. Let him come back, that his compassion may Give life to yours.
HUBERT	Come, boy, prepare yourself.
ARTHUR	Is there no remedy?
HUBERT	None but to lose your eyes. 90
ARTHUR	O God, that there were but a mote in yours, A grain, a dust, a gnat, a wandering hair, Any annoyance in that precious sense, Then, feeling what small things are boisterous there, Your vile intent must needs seem horrible. 95
HUBERT	Is this your promise? Go to, hold your tongue!
ARTHUR	Hubert, the utterance of a brace of tongues Must needs want pleading for a pair of eyes. Let me not hold my tongue, let me not, Hubert; Or, Hubert, if you will, cut out my tongue, 100 So I may keep mine eyes. O, spare mine eyes, Though to no use but still to look on you. Lo, by my troth, the instrument is cold And would not harm me.
HUBERT	I can heat it, boy.
ARTHUR	No, in good sooth: the fire is dead with grief, 105 Being create for comfort, to be used In undeserved extremes. See else yourself. There is no malice in this burning coal; The breath of heaven hath blown his spirit out, And strewed repentant ashes on his head. II0
HUBERT	But with my breath I can revive it, boy.
ARTHUR	An if you do, you will but make it blush And glow with shame of your proceedings, Hubert. Nay, it perchance will sparkle in your eyes, And like a dog that is compelled to fight, Snatch at his master that doth tarre him on. All things that you should use to do me wrong Deny their office; only you do lack That mercy which fierce fire and iron extends, Creatures of note for mercy-lacking uses.
HUBERT	Well, see to live. I will not touch thine eye For all the treasure that thine uncle owes. Yet am I sworn, and I did purpose, boy, With this same very iron to burn them out.
ARTHUR	O, now you look like Hubert. All this while You were disguised.
HUBERT	Peace, no more. Adieu. Your uncle must not know but you are dead. I’ll fill these dogged spies with false reports; And, pretty child, sleep doubtless and secure That Hubert, for the wealth of all the world, Will not offend thee.
ARTHUR	O God! I thank you, Hubert.
HUBERT	Silence, no more. Go closely in with me. Much danger do I undergo for thee. Exeunt
(didascalia)	4.2 flourish. Enter King John, the Earls of Pembroke and Salisbury, and other lords. King John ascends the throne
KING JOHN	Here once again we sit, once again crowned, And looked upon, I hope, with cheerful eyes.
PEMBROKE	This ‘once again’, but that your highness pleased, Was once superfluous. You were crowned before, And that high royalty was ne‘er plucked off, The faiths of men ne’er stained with revolt; Fresh expectation troubled not the land With any longed-for change or better state.
SALISBURY	Therefore to be possessed with double pomp, To guard a title that was rich before, 10 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 fashioned robe.
PEMBROKE	When workmen strive to do better than well, They do confound their skill in covetousness; And oftentimes excusing of a fault Doth make the fault the worser by th’excuse; As patches set upon a little breach Discredit more in hiding of the fault Than did the fault before it was so patched.
SALISBURY	To this effect: before you were new-crowned We breathed our counsel, but it pleased your highness To overbear it; and we are all well pleased, Since all and every part of what we would Doth make a stand at what your highness will.
KING JOHN	Some reasons of this double coronation I have possessed you with, and think them strong. And more, more strong, when lesser is my fear I shall endue you with. Meantime but ask What you would have reformed 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 Doth move the murmuring lips of discontent To break into this dangerous argument: If what in rest you have, in right you hold, 55 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, 65 Counts it your weal he have his liberty.
(didascalia)	Enter Hubert
KING JOHN	Let it be so. I do commit his youth To your direction.—Hubert, what news with you? He takes Hubert aside
PEMBROKE	This is the man should do the bloody deed: He showed his warrant to a friend of mine. 70 The image of a wicked heinous fault Lives in his eye; that close aspect of his Does show the mood of a much troubled breast; And I do fearfully believe ’tis done What we so feared he had a charge to do. 75
SALISBURY	The colour of the King doth 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 thence 80 The foul corruption of a sweet child’s death.
KING JOHN	(coming forward) 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 deceased tonight.
SALISBURY	Indeed we feared 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 answered, either here or hence.
KING JOHN	Why do you bend such solemn brows on me? 90 Think you I bear the shears of destiny? Have I commandment on the pulse of life?
SALISBURY	It is apparent foul play, and ’tis 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 thee, And find th’inheritance of this poor child, His little kingdom of a forced grave. That blood which owed the breadth of all this isle Three foot of it doth hold. Bad world the while. 100 This must not be thus borne. This will break out To all our sorrows; and ere long, I doubt.
(didascalia)	Exeunt Pembroke, Salisbury, and other lords
KING JOHN	They burn in indignation. I repent. There is no sure foundation set on blood, No certain life achieved by others’ death. 105
(didascalia)	Enter a Messenger
KING JOHN	A fearful eye thou hast. Where is that blood That I have seen inhabit in those cheeks? So foul a sky clears not without a storm; Pour down thy 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 learned by them, For when you should be told they do prepare, The tidings comes that they are all arrived.
KING JOHN	O, where hath our intelligence been drunk? Where hath it slept? Where is my mother’s ear, That such an army could be drawn in France, And she not hear of it?
MESSENGER	My liege, her ear Is stopped 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 thy speed, dreadful Occasion; O, make a league with me till I have pleased My discontented peers. What, Mother dead? How wildly then walks my estate in France!— Under whose conduct came those powers of France That thou for truth giv’st out are landed here?
MESSENGER	Under the Dauphin.
(didascalia)	Enter the Bastard and Peter of Pomfret
KING JOHN	Thou hast made me giddy With these ill tidings. (To the Bastard) 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, 135 Then let the worst, unheard, fall on your head.
KING JOHN	Bear with me, cousin, for I was amazed 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 travelled hither through the land, I find the people strangely fantasied, Possessed 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 ere the next Ascension Day at noon 151 Your highness should deliver up your crown.
KING JOHN	Thou idle dreamer, wherefore didst thou so?
PETER OF POMFRET	Foreknowing that the truth will fall out so.
KING JOHN	Hubert, away with him! Imprison him,155 And on that day, at noon, whereon he says I shall yield up my crown, let him be hanged. Deliver him to safety, and return, For I must use thee.
(didascalia)	Exeunt Hubert and Peter of Pomfret
KING JOHN	O my gentle cousin, Hear’st thou the news abroad, who are arrived? 160
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 killed tonight On your suggestion.
KING JOHN	Gentle kinsman, go And thrust thyself into their companies. I have away to win 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 thy heels, And fly like thought from them to me again. 175
BASTARD	The spirit of the time shall teach me speed. Exit
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 thou he. 180
MESSENGER	With all my heart, my liege. Exit
KING JOHN	My mother dead!
(didascalia)	Enter Hubert
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; 190 And he that speaks doth grip 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 200 That were embattailèd and ranked in Kent. Another lean unwashed artificer Cuts off his tale, and talks of Arthur’s death.
KING JOHN	Why seek’st thou to possess me with these fears? Why urgest thou so oft young Arthur’s death? Thy hand hath murdered him. I had a mighty cause To wish him dead, but thou 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 perchance it frowns More upon humour than advised respect.
HUBERT	Here is your hand and seal for what I did. He shows a paper
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 oft the sight of means to do ill deeds 220 Make deeds ill done! Hadst not thou been by, A fellow by the hand of nature marked, Quoted, and signed to do a deed of shame, This murder had not come into my mind. But taking note of thy abhorred aspect, Finding thee fit for bloody villainy, Apt, liable to be employed in danger, I faintly broke with thee of Arthur’s death; And thou, to be endeared to a king, Made it no conscience to destroy a prince.
HUBERT	My lord—
KING JOHN	Hadst thou but shook thy head or made a pause When I spake darkly what I purposed, Or turned 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 thy fears might have wrought fears in me. But thou didst understand me by my signs, And didst in signs again parley with sin; Yea, without stop, didst let thy heart consent, And consequently thy 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 braved, Even at my gates, with ranks of foreign powers; Nay, in the body of this 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.
(didascalia)	Within this bosom never entered yet
HUBERT	The dreadful motion of a murderous thought; And you have slandered nature in my form, Which, howsoever rude exteriorly, Is yet the cover of a fairer mind Than to be butcher of an innocent child. 260
KING JOHN	Doth Arthur live? O, haste thee 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 thy feature, for my rage was blind, 265 And foul imaginary eyes of blood Presented thee more hideous than thou art. O,answer not, but to my closet bring The angry lords with all expedient haste. I conjure thee but slowly; run more fast.
(didascalia)	Exeunt severally

Atto 4, Scena 3

Speaker	Line
(didascalia)	Enter Arthur Duke of Brittaine on the walls, disguised as a ship-boy
ARTHUR	The wall is high, and yet will I leap down. Good ground, be pitiful, and hurt me not. There’s few or none do know me; if they did, This ship-boy’s semblance hath disguised me quite. I am afraid, and yet I’ll venture it. If I get down and do not break my limbs, I’ll find a thousand shifts to get away. As good to die and go, as die and stay. He leaps down O me! My uncle’s spirit is in these stones. Heaven take my soul, and England keep my bones! I0 He dies Enter the Earls of Pembroke and Salisbury, and Lord Bigot
SALISBURY	Lords, I will meet him at Saint Edmundsbury. It is our safety, and we must embrace This gentle offer of the perilous time.
PEMBROKE	Who brought that letter from the Cardinal?
SALISBURY	The Count Melun, a noble lord of France, Who’s private with me of the Dauphin’s love; ’Tis much more general than these lines import.
BIGOT	Tomorrow morning let us meet him then.
SALISBURY	Or rather, then set forward, for ’twill be Two long days’journey, lords, or ere we meet. 20
(didascalia)	Enter the Bastard
BASTARD	Once more today well met, distempered lords. The King by me requests your presence straight.
SALISBURY	The King hath dispossessed himself of us. We will not line his thin bestainèd cloak With our pure honours, nor attend the foot 25 That leaves the print of blood where’er it walks. Return and tell him so; we know the worst.
BASTARD	Whate’er you think, good words I think were best.
SALISBURY	Our griefs and not our manners reason now.
BASTARD	But there is little reason in your grief. Therefore ’twere reason you had manners now.
PEMBROKE	Sir, sir, impatience hath his privilege.
BASTARD	’Tis true—to hurt his master, no man else.
SALISBURY	This is the prison. He sees Arthur’s body What is he lies here?
PEMBROKE	O death, made proud with pure and princely beauty! The earth had not a hole to hide this deed. 36
SALISBURY	Murder, as hating what himself hath done, Doth lay it open to urge on revenge.
BIGOT	Or when he doomed this beauty to a grave, Found it too precious-princely fora grave. 40
SALISBURY	(to the Bastard) Sir Richard, what think you? You have beheld. Or have you read or heard; or could you think, Or do you almost think, although you see, That you do see? Could thought, without this object, Form such another? This is the very top, The height, the crest, or crest unto the crest, Of murder’s arms; this is the bloodiest shame, The wildest savagery, the vilest stroke That ever wall-eyed wrath or staring rage Presented to the tears of soft remorse.
PEMBROKE	All murders past do stand excused in this, And this, so sole and so unmatchable, Shall give a holiness, a purity, To the yet-unbegotten sin of times, And prove a deadly bloodshed but a jest, 55 Exampled by this heinous spectacle.
BASTARD	It is a damned and a bloody work, The graceless action of a heavy hand— If that it be the work of any hand.
SALISBURY	If that it be the work of any hand? 60 We had a kind of light what would ensue: It is the shameful work of Hubert’s hand, The practice and the purpose of the King; From whose obedience I forbid my soul, Kneeling before this ruin of sweet life, 65 And breathing to his breathless excellence The incense of a vow, a holy vow, Never to taste the pleasures of the world, Never to be infected with delight, Nor conversant with ease and idleness, 70 Till I have set a glory to this hand By giving it the worship of revenge.
PEMBROKE	and BIGOT Our souls religiously confirm thy words.
(didascalia)	Enter Hubert
HUBERT	Lords, I am hot with haste in seeking you. Arthur doth live; the King hath sent for you.
SALISBURY	O,he is bold, and blushes not at death!— Avaunt, thou hateful villain, get thee gone I
HUBERT	I am no villain.
SALISBURY	Must I rob the law? He draws his sword
BASTARD	Your sword is bright, sir; put it up again.
SALISBURY	Not till I sheathe it in a murderer’s skin.
HUBERT	(drawing his sword) Stand back, Lord Salisbury, stand back, I say! By heaven, I think my sword’s as sharp as yours. I would not have you, lord, forget yourself, Nor tempt the danger of my true defence, Lest I, by marking of your rage, forget Your worth, your greatness and nobility.
BIGOT	Out, dunghill! Dar’st thou brave a nobleman?
HUBERT	Not for my life; but yet I dare defend My innocent life against an emperor.
SALISBURY	Thou art a murderer.
HUBERT	Do not prove me so; Yet I am none. Whose tongue soe’er speaks false, Not truly speaks; who speaks not truly, lies.
PEMBROKE	Cut him to pieces!
BASTARD	(drawing his sword) Keep the peace, I say I
SALISBURY	Stand by, or I shall gall you, Falconbridge.
BASTARD	Thou wert better gall the devil, Salisbury. If thou but frown on me, or stir thy foot, Or teach thy hasty spleen to do me shame, I’ll strike thee dead. Put up thy sword betime, Or I’ll so maul you and your toasting-iron That you shall think the devil is come from hell. 100
BIGOT	What wilt thou do, renowned Falconbridge, Second a villain and a murderer?
HUBERT	Lord Bigot, I am none.
BIGOT	Who killed this prince?
HUBERT	’Tis not an hour since I left him well. I honoured him, I loved him, and will weep My date of life out for his sweet life’s loss.
SALISBURY	Trust not those cunning waters of his eyes, For villainy is not without such rheum, And he, long traded in it, makes it seem Like rivers of remorse and innocency. II0 Away with me, all you whose souls abhor Th’uncleanly savours of a slaughter-house, For I am stifled with this smell of sin.
BIGOT	Away toward Bury, to the Dauphin there.
PEMBROKE	There, tell the King, he may enquire us out. 115
(didascalia)	Exeunt Pembroke, Salisbury, and Bigot
BASTARD	Here’s a good world! Knew you of this fair work? Beyond the infinite and boundless reach Of mercy, if thou didst this deed of death Art thou damned, Hubert.
HUBERT	Do but hear me, sir.
BASTARD	Ha! I’ll tell thee what: Thou’rt damned as black—nay nothing is so black— Thou art more deep damned than Prince Lucifer; There is not yet so ugly a fiend of hell As thou shalt be if thou didst kill this child.
HUBERT	Upon my soul—
BASTARD	If thou didst but consent To this most cruel act, do but despair; And if thou want’st a cord, the smallest thread That ever spider twisted from her womb Will serve to strangle thee; a rush will be a beam To hang thee on; or wouldst thou drown thyself, Put but a little water in a spoon And it shall be, as all the ocean, Enough to stifle such a villain up. I do suspect thee very grievously.
HUBERT	If I in act, consent, or sin of thought Be guilty of the stealing that sweet breath Which was embounded in this beauteous clay, Let hell want pains enough to torture me. I left him well.
BASTARD	Go bear him in thine arms. I am amazed, methinks, and lose my way Among the thorns and dangers of this world. Hubert takes up Arthur in his arms How easy dost thou take all England up I From forth this morsel of dead royalty, The life, the right, and truth of all this realm Is fled to heaven, and England now is left To tug and scramble, and to part by th’ teeth The unowed interest of proud swelling state. Now for the bare-picked bone of majesty Doth dogged war bristle his angry crest, And snarleth in the gentle eyes of peace; Now powers from home and discontents at home Meet in one line, and vast confusion waits, As doth a raven on a sick-fall’n beast, The imminent decay of wrested pomp. 155 Now happy he whose cloak and cincture can Hold out this tempest. Bear away that child, And follow me with speed. I’ll to the King. A thousand businesses are brief in hand, And heaven itself doth frown upon the land.
(didascalia)	Exeunt severally
(didascalia)	5.1 Flourish.Enter King John and Cardinal Pandolf, with attendants
(didascalia)	KING JOHN giving Pandolf the crown
BASTARD	Thus have I yielded up into your hand The circle of my glory. PANDOLF(giving back the crown)Take again From this my hand, as holding of the Pope, Your sovereign greatness and authority.
KING JOHN	Now keep your holy word: go meet the French, And from his Holiness use all your power To stop their marches ‘fore we are enflamed. Our discontented counties do revolt, Our people quarrel with obedience, Swearing allegiance and the love of soul To stranger blood, to foreign royalty. This inundation of mistempered humour Rests by you only to be qualified. Then pause not, for the present time’s so sick That present med’cine must be ministered, Or overthrow incurable ensues.
PANDOLF	It was my breath that blew this tempest up, Upon your stubborn usage of the Pope, But since you are a gentle convertite, My tongue shall hush again this storm of war And make fair weather in your blust’ring land. On this Ascension Day, remember well, Upon your oath of service to the Pope, Go I to make the French lay down their arms.
(didascalia)	Exeunt all but King John
KING JOHN	Is this Ascension Day Did not the prophet Say that before Ascension Day at noon My crown I should give off? Even so I have. I did suppose it should be on constraint, But, heaven be thanked, it is but voluntary.
(didascalia)	Enter Bastard
BASTARD	All Kent hath yielded; nothing there holds out But Dover Castle. London hath received, Like a kind host, the Dauphin and his powers. Your nobles will not hear you, but are gone To offer service to your enemy; And wild amazement hurries up and down The little number of your doubtful friends.
KING JOHN	Would not my lords return to me again After they heard young Arthur was alive?
BASTARD	They found him dead and cast into the streets, An empty casket, where the jewel of life By some damned hand was robbed and ta’en away.
KING JOHN	That villain Hubert told me he did live.
BASTARD	Soon my soul he did, for aught he knew. But wherefore do you droop? Why look you sad? Be great in act as you have been in thought. Let not the world see fear and sad distrust Govern the motion of a kingly eye. Be stirring as the time, be fire with fire; Threaten the threat’ner, and outface the brow Of bragging horror. So shall inferior eyes, That borrow their behaviours from the great, Grow great by your example, and put on The dauntless spirit of resolution. Away, and glisten like the god of war When he intendeth to become the field. Show boldness and aspiring confidence. What, shall they seek the lion in his den And fright him there, and make him tremble there? O, let it not be said I Forage, and run To meet displeasure farther from the doors, And grapple with him ere he come so nigh.
KING JOHN	The legate of the Pope hath been with me, And I have made a happy peace with him, And he hath promised to dismiss the powers Led by the Dauphin.
BASTARD	O inglorious league! Shall we, upon the footing of our land, Send fair-play orders, and make compromise, Insinuation, parley, and base truce To arms invasive? Shall a beardless boy, A cockered silken wanton, brave our fields And flesh his spirit in a warlike soil, Mocking the air with colours idly spread, And find no check? Let us, my liege, to arms! Perchance the Cardinal cannot make your peace, Or if he do, let it at least be said They saw we had a purpose of defence.
KING JOHN	Have thou the ordering of this present time.
(didascalia)	Away, then, with good courage! AsideYet I know
BASTARD	Our party may well meet a prouder foe. Exeunt

Atto 5, Scena 2

Speaker	Line
(didascalia)	Enter, marching in arms, Louis the Dauphin, the Earl off Salisbury, Count Melun, the Earl of Pembroke, and Lord Bigot, with soldiers
LOUIS THE DAUPHIN	My Lord Melun, let this be copied out, And keep it safe for our remembrance. Return the precedent to these lords again, That having our fair order written down, Both they and we, perusing o’er these notes, May know wherefore we took the sacrament And keep our faiths firm and inviolable.
SALISBURY	Upon our sides it never shall be broken. And, noble Dauphin, albeit we swear A voluntary zealand an unurgéd faith To your proceedings, yet believe me, Prince, I am not glad that such a sore of time Should seek a plaster by contemned revolt, And heal the inveterate canker of one wound By making many. O,it grieves my soul That I must draw this metal from my side To be a widow-maker! O, and there Where honourable rescue and defence Cries out upon the name of Salisbury I But such is the infection of the time, That for the health and physic of our right, We cannot deal but with the very hand Of stern injustice and confused wrong. And is’t not pity, O my grieved friends, That we the sons and children of this isle Was born to see so sad an hour as this, Wherein we step after a stranger, march Upon her gentle bosom, and fill up Her enemies’ ranks? I must withdraw and weep Upon the spot of this enforced cause— To grace the gentry of a land remote, And follow unacquainted colours here. What, here? O nation, that thou couldst remove; That Neptune’s arms who clippeth thee about Would bear thee from the knowledge of thyself And gripple thee unto a pagan shore, Where these two Christian armies might combine The blood of malice in a vein of league, And not to spend it so unneighbourly.
LOUIS THE DAUPHIN	A noble temper dost thou show in this, And great affections, wrestling in thy bosom, Doth make an earthquake of nobility. O, what a noble combat hast thou fought Between compulsion and a brave respect! Let me wipe off this honourable dew That silverly doth progress on thy cheeks. My heart hath melted at a lady’s tears, Being an ordinary inundation; But this effusion of such manly drops, This shower blown up by tempest of the soul, Startles mine eyes, and makes me more amazed Than had I seen the vaulty top of heaven Figured quite o’er with burning meteors. Lift up thy brow, renowned Salisbury, And with a great heart heave away this storm; 55 Commend these waters to those baby eyes That never saw the giant world enraged, Nor met with Fortune other than at feasts, Full warm of blood, of mirth, of gossiping. Come, come, for thou shalt thrust thy hand as deep Into the purse of rich prosperity As Louis himself. So, nobles, shall you all That knit your sinews to the strength of mine.
(didascalia)	A trumpet sounds
LOUIS THE DAUPHIN	And even there methinks an angel spake!
(didascalia)	Enter Cardinal Pandolf
LOUIS THE DAUPHIN	Look where the holy legate comes apace, To give us warrant from the hand of heaven, And on our actions set the name of right With holy breath.
PANDOLF	Hail, noble prince of France! The next is this. King John hath reconciled Himself to Rome; his spirit is come in That so stood out against the Holy Church, The great metropolis and See of Rome; Therefore thy threat’ning colours now wind up, And tame the savage spirit of wild war, That like a lion fostered up at hand It may lie gently at the foot of peace, And be no further harmful than in show.
LOUIS THE DAUPHIN	Your grace shall pardon me: I will not back. I am too high-born to be propertied, To be a secondary at control, Or useful serving-man and instrument To any sovereign state throughout the world. Your breath first kindled the dead coal of wars Between this chastised kingdom and myself, And brought in matter that should feed this fire; And now ‘tis far too huge to be blown out With that same weak wind which enkindled it. You taught me how to know the face of right, Acquainted me with interest to this land, Yea, thrust this enterprise into my heart; And come ye now to tell me John hath made His peace with Rome? What is that peace to me? I, by the honour of my marriage bed, After young Arthur, claim this land for mine; And now it is half conquered, must I back Because that John hath made his peace with Rome? Am I Rome’s slave? What penny hath Rome borne, What men provided, what munition sent To underprop this action? Is’t not I That undergo this charge? Who else but I, And such as to my claim are liable, Sweat in this business and maintain this war? Have I not heard these islanders shout out ‘Vive le Roi!’as I have banked their towns? Have I not here the best cards for the game, 105 To win this easy match played for a crown? And shall I now give o’er the yielded set? No, no, on my soul, it never shall be said.
PANDOLF	You look but on the outside of this work.
LOUIS THE DAUPHIN	Outside or inside, I will not return Till my attempt so much be glorified As to my ample hope was promised Before I drew this gallant head of war, And culled these fiery spirits from the world To outlook conquest and to win renown Even in the jaws of danger and of death. A trumpet sounds What lusty trumpet thus doth summon us?
(didascalia)	Enter the Bastard
BASTARD	According to the fair play of the world, Let me have audience; I am sent to speak. My holy lord of Milan, from the King I come to learn how you have dealt for him, And as you answer I do know the scope And warrant limited unto my tongue.
PANDOLF	The Dauphin is too wilful-opposite, And will not temporize with my entreaties. He flatly says he’ll not lay down his arms.
BASTARD	By all the blood that ever fury breathed, The youth says well. Now hear our English king, For thus his royalty doth speak in me. He is prepared, and reason too he should. This apish and unmannerly approach, This harnessed masque and unadvised revel, This unhaired sauciness and boyish troops, The King doth smile at, and is well prepared To whip this dwarfish war, these pigmy arms, 135 From out the circle of his territories. That hand which had the strength even at your door To cudgel you and make you take the hatch, To dive like buckets in concealed wells, To crouch in litter of your stable planks, To lie like pawns locked up in chests and trunks, To hug with swine, to seek sweet safety out In vaults and prisons, and to thrill and shake Even at the crying of your nation’s crow, Thinking his voice an armed Englishman; Shall that victorious hand be feebled here That in your chambers gave you chastisement? No! Know the gallant monarch is in arms, And like an eagle o’er his eyrie towers To souse annoyance that comes near his nest. (To the English lords) And you degenerate, you ingrate revolts, You bloody Neros, ripping up the womb Of your dear mother England, blush for shame; For your own ladies and pale-visaged maids Like Amazons come tripping after drums; Their thimbles into armed gauntlets change, Their needles to lances, and their gentle hearts To fierce and bloody inclination.
LOUIS THE DAUPHIN	There end thy brave, and turn thy face in peace. We grant thou canst outscold us. Fare thee well: 160 We hold our time too precious to be spent With such a brabbler.
PANDOLF	Give me leave to speak.
BASTARD	No, I will speak. LouisTHE DAUPHIN We will attend to neither.— Strike up the drums, and let the tongue of war Plead for our interest and our being here.
BASTARD	Indeed your drums, being beaten, will cry out; And so shall you, being beaten. Do but start An echo with the clamour of thy drum, And even at hand a drum is ready braced That shall reverberate all as loud as thine.
(didascalia)	Sound but another, and another shall
BASTARD	As loud as thine rattle the welkin’s ear, And mock the deep-mouthed thunder; for at hand, Not trusting to this halting legate here, Whom he hath used rather for sport than need, Is warlike John; and in his forehead sits A bare-ribbed Death, whose office is this day To feast upon whole thousands of the French.
LOUIS THE DAUPHIN	Strike up our drums to find this danger out.
BASTARD	And thou shalt find it, Dauphin, do not doubt.
(didascalia)	Drums beat. Exeunt the Bastard Fat onedoor, all the rest, marching, at another door

Atto 5, Scena 3

Speaker	Line
(didascalia)	Alarum. Enter King John Fat one door and Hubert at another door
KING JOHN	How goes the day with us? O, tell me, Hubert.
HUBERT	Badly, I fear. How fares your majesty?
KING JOHN	This fever that hath troubled me so long Lies heavy on me. O, my heart is sick!
(didascalia)	Enter a Messenger
MESSENGER	My lord, your valiant kinsman Falconbridge Desires your majesty to leave the field, And send him word by me which way you go.
KING JOHN	Tell him toward Swineshead, to the abbey there.
MESSENGER	Be of good comfort, for the great supply That was expected by the Dauphin here Are wrecked three nights ago on Goodwin Sands. This news was brought to Richard, but even now The French fight coldly and retire themselves.
KING JOHN	Ay me, this tyrant fever burns me up, And will not let me welcome this good news. Set on toward Swineshead. To my litter straight; Weakness possesseth me, and I am faint. Exeunt
(didascalia)	5.4 Alarum.Enter the Earls of Salisbury and Pembroke, and Lord Bigot
SALISBURY	I did not think the King so stored with friends.
PEMBROKE	Up once again; put spirit in the French. If they miscarry, we miscarry too.
SALISBURY	That misbegotten devil Falconbridge, In spite of spite, alone upholds the day.
PEMBROKE	They say King John, sore sick, hath left the field.
(didascalia)	Enter Count Melun, wounded, led by a soldier
MELUN	Lead me to the revolts of England here.
SALISBURY	When we were happy, we had other names.
PEMBROKE	It is the Count Melun.
SALISBURY	Wounded to death.
MELUN	Fly, noble English, you are bought and sold. Unthread the rude eye of rebellion, And welcome home again discarded faith; Seek out King John and fall before his feet, For if the French be lords of this loud day He means to recompense the pains you take By cutting off your heads. Thus hath he sworn, And I with him, and many more with me, Upon the altar at Saint Edmundsbury, Even on that altar where we swore to you Dear amity and everlasting love.
SALISBURY	May this be possible? May this be true?
MELUN	Have I not hideous death within my view, Retaining but a quantity of life, Which bleeds away, even as a form of wax Resolveth from his figure ‘gainst the fire? What in the world should make me now deceive, Since I must lose the use of all deceit? Why should I then be false, since it is true That I must die here, and live hence by truth? I say again, if Louis do win the day, He is forsworn if e’er those eyes of yours Behold another daybreak in the east; But even this night, whose black contagious breath Already smokes about the burning cresset Of the old, feeble, and day-wearied sun, Even this ill night your breathing shall expire, Paying the fine of rated treachery Even with a treacherous fine of all your lives, If Louis by your assistance win the day. Commend me to one Hubert with your king. The love of him, and this respect besides, For that my grandsire was an Englishman, Awakes my conscience to confess all this; In lieu whereof, I pray you bear me hence From forth the noise and rumour of the field, Where I may think the remnant of my thoughts In peace, and part this body and my soul With contemplation and devout desires.
SALISBURY	We do believe thee; and beshrew my soul But I do love the favour and the form Of this most fair occasion; by the which We will untread the steps of damned flight, And like a bated and retired flood, Leaving our rankness and irregular course, Stoop low within those bounds we have o’erlooked, And calmly run on in obedience Even to our ocean, to our great King John. My arm shall give thee help to bear thee hence, For I do see the cruel pangs of death Right in thine eye.—Away,my friends! New flight, And happy newness that intends old right. Exeunt
(didascalia)	5.5 Alarum,. retreat. Enter Louis the Dauphin, and his train
LOUIS THE DAUPHIN	The sun of heaven, methought, was loath to set, But stayed and made the western welkin blush, When English measured backward their own ground In faint retire. O, bravely came we off, When with a volley of our needless shot, After such bloody toil, we bid good night, And wound our tatt’ring colours clearly up, Last in the field and almost lords of it.
(didascalia)	Enter a Messenger
MESSENGER	Where is my prince the Dauphin?
LOUIS THE DAUPHIN	Here. What news?
MESSENGER	The Count Melun is slain; the English lords By his persuasion are again fall’n off; And your supply which you have wished so long Are cast away and sunk on Goodwin Sands.
LOUIS THE DAUPHIN	Ah, foul shrewd news! Beshrew thy very heart I did not think to be so sad tonight As this hath made me. Who was he that said King John did fly an hour or two before The stumbling night did part our weary powers?
MESSENGER	Whoever spoke it, it is true, my lord.
LOUIS THE DAUPHIN	Well, keep good quarter and good care tonight. The day shall not be up so soon as I, To try the fair adventure of tomorrow. Exeunt

Atto 5, Scena 6

Speaker	Line
(didascalia)	Enter the Bastard With a lightand Hubert With a pistol, severally
HUBERT	Who’s there? Speak, ho! Speak quickly, or I shoot.
BASTARD	A friend. What art thou?
HUBERT	Of the part of England.
BASTARD	Whither dost thou go?
HUBERT	What’s that to thee? Why may not I demand of thine affairs As well as thou of mine?
BASTARD	Hubert, I think.
HUBERT	Thou hast a perfect thought. I will upon all hazards well believe Thou art my friend that know’st my tongue so well. Who art thou?
BASTARD	Who thou wilt. An if thou please, Thou mayst befriend me so much as to think I come one way of the Plantagenets.
HUBERT	Unkind remembrance! Thou and eyeless night Have done me shame. Brave soldier, pardon me That any accent breaking from thy tongue Should ’scape the true acquaintance of mine ear.
BASTARD	Come, come, sans compliment. What news abroad?
HUBERT	Why, here walk I in the black brow of night To find you out.
BASTARD	Brief, then, and what’s the news?
HUBERT	O my sweet sir, news fitting to the night: Black, fearful, comfortless, and horrible.
BASTARD	Show me the very wound of this ill news; I am no woman, I’ll not swoon at it.
HUBERT	The King, I fear, is poisoned by a monk. I left him almost speechless, and broke out To acquaint you with this evil, that you might The better arm you to the sudden time Than if you had at leisure known of this.
BASTARD	How did he take it? Who did taste to him?
HUBERT	A monk, I tell you, a resolved villain, Whose bowels suddenly burst out. The King Yet speaks, and peradventure may recover.
BASTARD	Who didst thou leave to tend his majesty?
HUBERT	Why, know you not? The lords are all come back, And brought Prince Henry in their company, At whose request the King hath pardoned them, And they are all about his majesty.
BASTARD	Withhold thine indignation, mighty heaven, And tempt us not to bear above our power. I’ll tell thee, Hubert, half my power this night, Passing these flats, are taken by the tide. These Lincoln Washes have devoured them; Myself, well mounted, hardly have escaped. Away before! Conduct me to the King. I doubt he will be dead or ere I come. Exeunt

Atto 5, Scena 7

Speaker	Line
(didascalia)	Enter Prince Henry, the Earl of Salisbury, and Lord Bigot
PRINCE HENRY	It is too late. The life of all his blood Is touched corruptibly, and his pure brain, Which some suppose the soul’s frail dwelling-house, Doth by the idle comments that it makes Foretell the ending of mortality.
(didascalia)	Enter the Earl of Pembroke
PEMBROKE	His highness yet doth speak, and holds belief That being brought into the open air, It would allay the burning quality Of that fell poison which assaileth him.
PRINCE HENRY	Let him be brought into the orchard here.—
(didascalia)	Exit Lord Bigot
PRINCE HENRY	Doth he still rage?
PEMBROKE	He is more patient Than when you left him. Even now, he sung.
PRINCE HENRY	O, vanity of sickness! Fierce extremes In their continuance will not feel themselves. Death, having preyed upon the outward parts, Leaves them invincible, and his siege is now Against the mind; the which he pricks and wounds With many legions of strange fantasies, Which in their throng and press to that last hold Confound themselves. ’Tis strange that death should sing. I am the cygnet to this pale faint swan, Who chants a doleful hymn to his own death, And from the organ-pipe of frailty sings His soul and body to their lasting rest.
SALISBURY	Be of good comfort, Prince, for you are born To set a form upon that indigest Which he hath left so shapeless and so rude.
(didascalia)	King John is brought in, with Lord Bigot attending
KING JOHN	Ay marry, now my soul hath elbow-room; It would not out at windows nor at doors. There is so hot a summer in my bosom That all my bowels crumble up to dust; I am a scribbled form, drawn with a pen Upon a parchment, and against this fire Do I shrink up.
PRINCE HENRY	How fares your majesty?
KING JOHN	Poisoned, ill fare! Dead, forsook, cast off; And none of you will bid the winter come To thrust his icy fingers in my maw, Nor let my kingdom’s rivers take their course Through my burned bosom, nor entreat the north To make his bleak winds kiss my parchèd lips 40 And comfort me with cold. I do not ask you much; I beg cold comfort, and you are so strait And so ingrateful you deny me that.
PRINCE HENRY	O, that there were some virtue in my tears That might relieve you!
KING JOHN	The salt in them is hot.
(didascalia)	Within me is a hell, and there the poison
KING JOHN	Is, as a fiend, confined to tyrannize On unreprievable condemned blood.
(didascalia)	Enter the Bastard
BASTARD	O, I am scalded with my violent motion And spleen of speed to see your majesty!
KING JOHN	O cousin, thou art come to set mine eye. The tackle of my heart is cracked and burnt, And all the shrouds wherewith my life should sail Are turned to one thread, one little hair; My heart hath one poor string to stay it by, Which holds but till thy news be uttered, And then all this thou seest is but a clod And module of confounded royalty.
BASTARD	The Dauphin is preparing hitherward, Where God He knows how we shall answer him; For in a night the best part of my power, As I upon advantage did remove, Were in the Washes all unwarily Devoured by the unexpected flood. King John dies
SALISBURY	You breathe these dead news in as dead an ear. (To King John) My liege, my lord!—But now a king, now thus.
PRINCE HENRY	Even so must I run on, and even so stop. What surety of the world, what hope, what stay, When this was now a king and now is clay?
BASTARD	(to King John) Art thou gone so? I do but stay behind To do the office for thee of revenge, And then my soul shall wait on thee to heaven, As it on earth hath been thy servant still. (To the lords) Now, now, you stars that move in your right spheres, Where be your powers? Show now your mended faiths, And instantly return with me again, To push destruction and perpetual shame Out of the weak door of our fainting land. Straight let us seek, or straight we shall be sought. The Dauphin rages at our very heels.
SALISBURY	It seems you know not, then, so much as we. The Cardinal Pandolf is within at rest, Who half an hour since came from the Dauphin, And brings from him such offers of our peace As we with honour and respect may take, With purpose presently to leave this war.
BASTARD	He will the rather do it when he sees Ourselves well-sinewed to our own defence.
SALISBURY	Nay, ’tis in a manner done already, For many carriages he hath dispatched To the sea-side, and put his cause and quarrel To the disposing of the Cardinal, With whom yourself, myself, and other lords, If you think meet, this afternoon will post To consummate this business happily.
BASTARD	Let it be so.—And you, my noble prince, With other princes that may best be spared, Shall wait upon your father’s funeral.
PRINCE HENRY	At Worcester must his body be interred, For so he willed it.
BASTARD	Thither shall it then, 100 And happily may your sweet self put on The lineal state and glory of the land, To whom with all submission, on my knee, I do bequeath my faithful services And true subjection everlastingly. 105 He kneels
SALISBURY	And the like tender of our love we make, To rest without a spot for evermore. Salisbury, Pembroke and Bigot kneel
PRINCE HENRY	I have a kind of soul that would give thanks, And knows not how to do it but with tears. He weeps
(didascalia)	BASTARD rising
PRINCE HENRY	O, let us pay the time but needful woe, Since it hath been beforehand with our griefs. This England never did, nor never shall, Lie at the proud foot of a conqueror But when it first did help to wound itself. Now these her princes are come home again, Come the three corners of the world in arms And we shall shock them. Naught shall make us rue If England to itself do rest but true.
(didascalia)	Flourish. Exeunt with the body
ENTRY	of ‘a book of The Merchant of Venice or otherwise called The Jew of Venice’ in the Stationers’ Register on 22July 1598 probably represents an attempt by Shakespeare’s company to prevent the unauthorized printing of a popular play: it eventually appeared in print as ‘The Comical History of the Merchant of Venice’ in 1600, when it was said to have ‘been divers times acted by the Lord Chamberlain his servants’; probably Shakespeare wrote it in 1596 or 1597. The alternative title—The Jew of Venice—may reflect Shylock’s impact on the play’s first audiences. The play is constructed on the basis of two romantic tales using motifs well known to sixteenth-century readers. The story of Giannetto (Shakespeare’s Bassanio) and the Lady (Portia) of Belmont comes from an Italian collection of fifty stories published under the title of II Pecorone (‘the big sheep’, or ‘dunce’) and attributed to one Ser Giovanni of Fiorentino. Written in the later part of the fourteenth century, the volume did not appear until 1558. No sixteenth-century translation is known, so (unless there was a lost intermediary) Shakespeare must have read it in Italian. It gave him the main outline of the plot involving Antonio (the merchant), Bassanio (the wooer), Portia, and the Jew (Shylock). The pound of flesh motif was available also in other versions, one of which, in Alexander Silvayn’s The Orator (translated 1596), influenced the climactic scene (4.1) in which Shylock attempts to exact the full penalty of his bond. In the story from II Pecorone the lady (a widow) challenges her suitors to seduce her, on pain of the forfeiture of their wealth, and thwarts them by drugging their wine. Shakespeare more romantically shows a maiden required by her father’s will to accept only a wooer who will forswear marriage if he fails to make the right choice among caskets of gold, silver and lead. The story of the caskets was readily available in versions by John Gower (in his Confessio Amantis) and Giovanni Boccaccio (in his Decameron), and in an anonymous anthology (the Gesta Romanorum). Shakespeare added the character ofJessica, Shylock’s daughter who elopes with the Christian Lorenzo—perhaps influenced by episodes in Christopher Marlowe’s play The Jew of Malta (c.1589)—and made many adjustments to the stories from which he borrowed. The Merchant of Venice is a natural development from Shakespeare’s earlier comedies, especially The Two Gentlemen of Verona, with its heroine disguised as a boy and its portrayal of the competing demands of love and friendship. But Portia is the first of his great romantic heroines, and Shylock his first great comic antagonist. Though the play grew out of fairy tales, its moral scheme is not entirely clear cut: the Christians are open to criticism, the Jew is true to his own code of conduct. The response of twentieth-century and later audiences has been complicated by racial issues; in any case, the role of Shylock affords such strong opportunities for an actor capable of arousing an undercurrent of sympathy for a vindictive character that it has sometimes unbalanced the play in performance. But the so-called trial scene (4.1) is unfailing in its impact on audiences, and the closing episodes modulate skilfully from romantic lyricism to high comedy, while sustaining the play’s concern with true and false values.
THE PERSONS OF THE	PLAY ANTONIO, a merchant of Venice BASSANIO, his friend and Portia’s suitor LEONARDO, Bassanio’s servant SHYLOCK, a Jew JESSICA, his daughter TUBAL, a Jew LANCELOT, a clown, first Shylock’s servant and then Bassanio’s GOBBO, his father PORTIA, an heiress NERISSA, her waiting-gentlewoman
DUKE	of Venice Magnificoes of Venice A jailer, attendants, and servants

Speaker	Line
(didascalia)	[Flourish.] Enter King John, Queen Eleanor, and the Earls of Pembroke, Essex, and Salisbury; with them Châtillon of France
KING JOHN	Now say, Châtillon, what would France with us? CHÂTILLON Thus, after greeting, speaks the King of France, In my behaviour, to the majesty— The borrowed majesty—of England here.
QUEEN ELEANOR	A strange beginning: ‘borrowed majesty’?
KING JOHN	Silence, good mother, hear the embassy. CHÂTILLON Philip of France, in right and true behalf Of thy deceased brother Geoffrey’s son, Arthur Plantagenet, lays most lawful claim To this fair island and the territories, To Ireland, Poitou, Anjou, Touraine, Maine; Desiring thee to lay aside the sword Which sways usurpingly these several titles, And put the same into young Arthur’s hand, Thy nephew and right royal sovereign.
KING JOHN	What follows if we disallow of this? CHÂTILLON The proud control of fierce and bloody war, To enforce these rights so forcibly withheld—
KING JOHN	Here have we war for war, and blood for blood, Controlment for controlment: so answer France. CHÂTILLON Then take my king’s defiance from my mouth, The farthest limit of my embassy.
KING JOHN	Bear mine to him, and so depart in peace. Be thou as lightning in the eyes of France, For ere thou canst report, I will be there; 25 The thunder of my cannon shall be heard. So hence. Be thou the trumpet of our wrath, And sullen presage of your own decay.— An honourable conduct let him have; Pembroke, look to’t.—Farewell, Châtillon. 30
(didascalia)	Exeunt Châtillon and Pembroke
QUEEN ELEANOR	What now, my son? Have I not ever said How that ambitious Constance would not cease Till she had kindled France and all the world Upon the right and party of her son ? This might have been prevented and made whole 35 With very easy arguments of love, Which now the manage of two kingdoms must With fearful-bloody issue arbitrate.
KING JOHN	Our strong possession and our right for us.
QUEEN ELEANOR	(aside to King John) Your strong possession much more than your right, Or else it must go wrong with you and me: 41 So much my conscience whispers in your ear, Which none but heaven and you and I shall hear.
(didascalia)	Enter a Sheriff, [who whispers to Essex]
ESSEX	My liege, here is the strangest controversy, Come from the country to be judged by you, 45 That e’er I heard. Shall I produce the men?
(didascalia)	KING JOHN Let them approach.—Exit Sheriff
ESSEX	Our abbeys and our priories shall pay This expeditious charge.
(didascalia)	Enter Robert Falconbridge and Philip the Bastard With
ESSEX	the
(didascalia)	Sheriff
ESSEX	What men are you?
BASTARD	Your faithful subject I, a gentleman 50 Born in Northamptonshire, and eldest son, As I suppose, to Robert Falconbridge, A soldier, by the honour-giving hand Of Cœur-de-lion knighted in the field.
KING JOHN	What art thou? 55
FALCONBRIDGE	The son and heir to that same Falconbridge.
KING JOHN	Is that the elder, and art thou the heir? You came not of one mother then, it seems.
BASTARD	Most certain of one mother, mighty King— That is well known—and, as I think, one father. 60 But for the certain knowledge of that truth I put you o’er to heaven, and to my mother. Of that I doubt as all men’s children may.
QUEEN ELEANOR	Out on thee, rude man ! Thou dost shame thy mother And wound her honour with this diffidence. 65
BASTARD	I, Madam? No, I have no reason for it. That is my brother’s plea and none of mine, The which if he can prove, a pops me out At least from fair five hundred pound a year. Heaven guard my mother’s honour, and my land! 70
KING JOHN	A good blunt fellow.—Why, being younger born, Doth he lay claim to thine inheritance ?
BASTARD	I know not why, except to get the land; But once he slandered me with bastardy. But whe’er I be as true begot or no, 75 That still I lay upon my mother’s head; But that I am as well begot, my liege— Fair fall the bones that took the pains for me— Compare our faces and be judge yourself. If old Sir Robert did beget us both 80 And were our father, and this son like him, O old Sir Robert, father, on my knee I give heaven thanks I was not like to thee.
KING JOHN	Why, what a madcap hath heaven lent us here!
QUEEN ELEANOR	He hath a trick of Coeur-de-lion’s face; 85 The accent of his tongue affecteth him. Do you not read some tokens of my son In the large composition of this man?
KING JOHN	Mine eye hath well examined his parts, And finds them perfect Richard. (To Robert Falconbridge) Sirrah, speak: 90 What doth move you to claim your brother’s land?
BASTARD	Because he hath a half-face like my father! With half that face would he have all my land, A half-faced groat five hundred pound a year.
FALCONBRIDGE	My gracious liege, when that my father lived, 95 Your brother did employ my father much—
BASTARD	Well, sir, by this you cannot get my land. Your tale must be how he employed my mother.
FALCONBRIDGE	And once dispatched him in an embassy To Germany, there with the Emperor To treat of high affairs touching that time. Th‘advantage of his absence took the King, And in the meantime sojourned at my father’s, Where how he did prevail I shame to speak. But truth is truth:large lengths of seas and shores Between my father and my mother lay, 106 As I have heard my father speak himself, When this same lusty gentleman was got. Upon his deathbed he by will bequeathed His lands to me, and took it on his death 110 That this my mother’s son was none of his; And if he were, he came into the world Full fourteen weeks before the course of time. Then, good my liege, let me have what is mine, My father’s land, as was my father’s will. 115
KING JOHN	Sirrah, your brother is legitimate. Your father’s wife did after wedlock bear him, And if she did play false, the fault was hers, Which fault lies on the hazards of all husbands That marry wives. Tell me, how if my brother, Who, as you say, took pains to get this son, Had of your father claimed this son for his ? In sooth, good friend, your father might have kept This calf, bred from his cow, from all the world; In sooth he might. Then if he were my brother’s, 125 My brother might not claim him, nor your father, Being none of his, refuse him. This concludes: My mother’s son did get your father’s heir; Your father’s heir must have your father’s land.
FALCONBRIDGE	Shall then my father’s will be of no force 130 To dispossess that child which is not his?
BASTARD	Of no more force to dispossess me, sir, Than was his will to get me, as I think.
QUEEN ELEANOR	Whether hadst thou rather be: a Falconbridge, And like thy brother to enjoy thy land, 135 Or the reputed son of Cœur-de-lion, Lord of thy presence, and no land beside?
BASTARD	Madam, an if my brother had my shape, And I had his, Sir Robert’s his like him, And if my legs were two such riding-rods, 140 My arms such eel-skins stuffed, my face so thin That in mine ear I durst not stick a rose Lest men should say ‘Look where three-farthings goes!’, And, to his shape, were heir to all this land, Would I might never stir from off this place. I would give it every foot to have this face; It would not be Sir Nob in any case.
QUEEN ELEANOR	I like thee well. Wilt thou forsake thy fortune, Bequeath thy land to him, and follow me? I am a soldier and now bound to France. 150
BASTARD	Brother, take you my land; I’ll take my chance. Your face hath got five hundred pound a year, Yet sell your face for fivepence and ’tis dear.— Madam, I’ll follow you unto the death.
QUEEN ELEANOR	Nay, I would have you go before me thither. 155
BASTARD	Our country manners give our betters way.
KING JOHN	What is thy name?
BASTARD	Philip, my liege, so is my name begun: Philip, good old Sir Robert’s wife’s eldest son,
KING JOHN	From henceforth bear his name whose form thou bear’st. 160 Kneel thou down Philip, but arise more great: He knights the Bastard Arise Sir Richard and Plantagenet.
BASTARD	Brother by th’ mother’s side, give me your hand. My father gave me honour, yours gave land. Now blessèd be the hour, by night or day, 165 When I was got, Sir Robert was away.
QUEEN ELEANOR	The very spirit of Plantagenet I I am thy grandam, Richard; call me so.
BASTARD	Madam, by chance, but not by truth; what though? Something about, a little from the right, In at the window, or else o‘er the hatch; Who dares not stir by day must walk by night, And have is have, however men do catch. Near or far off, well won is still well shot, And I am I, howe’er I was begot.
KING JOHN	Go, Falconbridge, now hast thou thy desire: A landless knight makes thee a landed squire.— Come, madam, and come, Richard; we must speed For France; for France, for it is more than need.
BASTARD	Brother, adieu. Good fortune come to thee, 180 For thou wast got i’th’ way of honesty.
(didascalia)	Exeunt all but the Bastard
BASTARD	A foot of honour better than I was, But many a many foot of land the worse. Well, now can I make any Joan a lady. ‘Good e’en, Sir Richard‘—’God-a-mercy fellow’; And if his name be George I’ll call him Peter, For new-made honour doth forget men’s names; ’Tis too respective and too sociable For your conversion. Now your traveller, He and his toothpick at my worship’s mess; 190 And when my knightly stomach is sufficed, Why then I suck my teeth and catechize My picked man of countries. ‘My dear sir,’ Thus leaning on mine elbow I begin, ‘I shall beseech you—’. That is Question now; 195 And then comes Answer like an Absey book. ‘O sir,’ says Answer, ‘at your best command, At your employment, at your service, sir.’ ‘No sir,’ says Question, ‘I, sweet sir, at yours.’ And so, ere Answer knows what Question would, Saving in dialogue of compliment, And talking of the Alps and Apennines, The Pyrenean and the River Po, It draws toward supper in conclusion so. But this is worshipful society, 205 And fits the mounting spirit like myself; For he is but a bastard to the time That doth not smack of observation; And so am I—whether I smack or no, And not alone in habit and device, 210 Exterior form, outward accoutrement, But from the inward motion—to deliver Sweet, sweet, sweet poison for the age’s tooth; Which, though I will not practise to deceive, Yet to avoid deceit I mean to learn; 215 For it shall strew the footsteps of my rising.
(didascalia)	Enter Lady Falconbridge and James Gurney
BASTARD	But who comes in such haste in riding-robes? What woman-post is this? Hath she no husband That will take pains to blow a horn before her? O me, ’tis my mother! How now, good lady? 220 What brings you here to court so hastily?
LADY FALCONBRIDGE	Where is that slave thy brother? Where is he That holds in chase mine honour up and down?
BASTARD	My brother Robert, old Sir Robert’s son? Colbrand the Giant, that same mighty man? 225 Is it Sir Robert’s son that you seek so?
LADY FALCONBRIDGE	Sir Robert’s son, ay, thou unreverent boy, Sir Robert’s son. Why scorn’st thou at Sir Robert? He is Sir Robert’s son, and so art thou.
BASTARD	James Gurney, wilt thou give us leave awhile? 230
GURNEY	Good leave, good Philip.
BASTARD	Philip Sparrow, James! There’s toys abroad; anon I’ll tell thee more.
(didascalia)	Exit James Gurney
BASTARD	Madam, I was not old Sir Robert’s son. Sir Robert might have eat his part in me Upon Good Friday, and ne’er broke his fast. 235 Sir Robert could do well, marry to confess, Could a get me! Sir Robert could not do it: We know his handiwork. Therefore, good mother, To whom am I beholden for these limbs? Sir Robert never holp to make this leg. 240
LADY FALCONBRIDGE	Hast thou conspired with thy brother too, That for thine own gain shouldst defend mine honour? What means this scorn, thou most untoward knave?
BASTARD	Knight, knight, good mother, Basilisco-like! What! I am dubbed; I have it on my shoulder. 245 But, mother, I am not Sir Robert’s son. I have disclaimed Sir Robert; and my land, Legitimation, name, and all is gone. Then, good my mother, let me know my father; Some proper man, I hope; who was it, mother? 250
LADY FALCONBRIDGE	Hast thou denied thyself a Falconbridge ?
BASTARD	As faithfully as I deny the devil.
LADY FALCONBRIDGE	King Richard Cœur-de-lion was thy father. By long and vehement suit I was seduced To make room for him in my husband’s bed. 255 Heaven lay not my transgression to my charge! Thou art the issue of my dear offence, Which was so strongly urged past my defence.
BASTARD	Now by this light, were I to get again, Madam, I would not wish a better father. 260 Some sins do bear their privilege on earth, And so doth yours; your fault was not your folly. Needs must you lay your heart at his dispose, Subjected tribute to commanding love, Against whose fury and unmatched force 265 The aweless lion could not wage the fight, Nor keep his princely heart from Richard’s hand. He that perforce robs lions of their hearts May easily win a woman’s. Ay, my mother, With all my heart I thank thee for my father. 270 Who lives and dares but say thou didst not well When I was got, I’ll send his soul to hell. Come, lady, I will show thee to my kin, And they shall say, when Richard me begot, If thou hadst said him nay, it had been sin. 275 Who says it was, he lies: I say ’twas not. Exeunt

Chi parla	Battuta
(didascalia)	[Squilli di trombe.] Entrano Re Giovanni, la Regina Eleonora, e i Conti di Pembroke, Essex e Salisbury; con loro Châtillon di Francia
RE GIOVANNI	Or dite, Châtillon, che vuole la Francia da noi? CHÂTILLON Così, dopo il saluto, parla il Re di Francia, Per mia bocca, alla maestà— La maestà prestata—d’Inghilterra qui presente.
REGINA ELEONORA	Uno strano inizio: ‘maestà prestata’?
RE GIOVANNI	Silenzio, buona madre, udite l’ambasciata. CHÂTILLON Filippo di Francia, in diritto e vero nome Del figlio del tuo defunto fratello Goffredo, Arturo Plantageneto, avanza legittima pretesa Su questa bella isola e sui territori, Sull’Irlanda, il Poitou, l’Anjou, la Touraine, il Maine; Chiedendoti di deporre la spada Che usurpando governa questi diversi titoli, E di porla nella mano del giovane Arturo, Tuo nipote e legittimo regale sovrano.
RE GIOVANNI	Che segue se noi ricusiamo questo? CHÂTILLON L’altero costringimento di fiera e sanguinosa guerra, Per far valere questi diritti così forzosamente negati—
RE GIOVANNI	Qui abbiamo guerra per guerra, e sangue per sangue, Costringimento per costringimento: così rispondi alla Francia. CHÂTILLON Prendi allora dalla mia bocca la sfida del mio re, L’estremo limite della mia ambasciata.
RE GIOVANNI	Porta a lui la mia, e parti dunque in pace. Sii come folgore agli occhi della Francia, Ché prima che tu possa riferire, io vi sarò; 25 Il tuono del mio cannone sarà udito. Via dunque. Sii tu la tromba della nostra ira, E tetro presagio della vostra rovina.— Abbia egli onorevole scorta; Pembroke, badaci.—Addio, Châtillon. 30
(didascalia)	Escono Châtillon e Pembroke
REGINA ELEONORA	Che ora, figlio mio? Non ho io sempre detto Come quell’ambiziosa Costanza non avrebbe posato Finché non avesse infiammato la Francia e tutto il mondo A favore del diritto e della parte di suo figlio ? Questo si poteva prevenire e sanare 35 Con argomenti d’amore assai facili, Che ora il governo di due regni deve Con esito paurosamente sanguinoso arbitrare.
RE GIOVANNI	Il nostro forte possesso e il nostro diritto stanno per noi.
REGINA ELEONORA	(a parte, a Re Giovanni) Il vostro forte possesso molto più che il vostro diritto, O altrimenti andrà male per voi e per me: 41 Tanto la mia coscienza vi sussurra all’orecchio, Che nessuno udrà se non il cielo e voi ed io.
(didascalia)	Entra uno Sceriffo, [che sussurra a Essex]
ESSEX	Mio sire, ecco la più strana controversia, Venuta dalla contea per esser giudicata da voi, 45 Che mai udissi. Debbo far entrare gli uomini?
(didascalia)	RE GIOVANNI S’accostino.—Esce lo Sceriffo
ESSEX	Le nostre abbazie e i nostri priorati pagheranno Questa spedita spesa.
(didascalia)	Entrano Robert Falconbridge e Filippo il Bastardo Con
ESSEX	lo
(didascalia)	Sceriffo
ESSEX	Che uomini siete?
BASTARDO	Io vostro fedele suddito, un gentiluomo 50 Nato nel Northamptonshire, e figlio primogenito, Come suppongo, di Robert Falconbridge, Un soldato, dalla mano donatrice d’onore Di Cuor-di-Leone fatto cavaliere in campo.
RE GIOVANNI	Tu che sei? 55
FALCONBRIDGE	Il figlio ed erede di quello stesso Falconbridge.
RE GIOVANNI	È quello il maggiore, e tu sei l’erede? Non venite da una sola madre, a quanto pare.
BASTARDO	Certissimo, da una sola madre, potente Re— Ciò è ben noto—e, come credo, da un solo padre. 60 Ma per la certa conoscenza di quella verità Vi rimando al cielo, e a mia madre. Di ciò dubito, come possono i figli di tutti gli uomini.
REGINA ELEONORA	Vergogna a te, uomo rozzo ! Tu svergogni tua madre E ferisci il suo onore con questa diffidenza. 65
BASTARDO	Io, Madama? No, non ne ho ragione. Quella è la tesi di mio fratello e non mia, La quale se può provare, a mi caccia fuori Almeno da ben cinquecento sterline l’anno. Il cielo guardi l’onore di mia madre, e la mia terra! 70
RE GIOVANNI	Un buon uomo schietto.—Perché, essendo nato dopo, Avanza pretesa sulla tua eredità ?
BASTARDO	Non so perché, se non per aver la terra; Ma una volta mi calunniò di bastardia. Se io sia generato legittimo o no, 75 Ciò rimetto sempre sul capo di mia madre; Ma che io sia ben generato, mio sire— Bene stiano le ossa che si presero la pena per me— Confrontate i nostri volti e siate voi giudice. Se il vecchio Sir Robert generò entrambi noi 80 E fu nostro padre, e questo figlio è simile a lui, Oh vecchio Sir Robert, padre, in ginocchio Rendo grazie al cielo che io non ti somigliai.
RE GIOVANNI	Ebbene, che cervello balzano il cielo ci ha prestato qui!
REGINA ELEONORA	Ha un tratto del volto di Cuor-di-Leone; 85 L’accento della sua lingua lo ritrae. Non leggete voi qualche segno di mio figlio Nell’ampia composizione di quest’uomo?
RE GIOVANNI	Il mio occhio ha bene esaminato le sue fattezze, E le trova perfetto Riccardo. (A Robert Falconbridge) Ehi tu, parla: 90 Che ti muove a reclamare la terra di tuo fratello?
BASTARDO	Perché ha un mezzo volto come mio padre! Con la metà di quel volto vorrebbe tutta la mia terra, Un grosso di mezzo profilo, cinquecento sterline l’anno.
FALCONBRIDGE	Mio grazioso sire, quando mio padre viveva, 95 Vostro fratello impiegò molto mio padre—
BASTARDO	Bene, signore, con questo non otterrete la mia terra. Il vostro racconto dovrebbe essere come impiegò mia madre.
FALCONBRIDGE	E una volta lo spedì in un’ambasciata In Germania, là con l’Imperatore Per trattare d’alti affari concernenti quel tempo. Il vantaggio della sua assenza colse il Re, E nel frattempo soggiornò in casa di mio padre, Dove come prevalse mi vergogno a dire. Ma verità è verità:grandi distese di mari e di lidi Fra mio padre e mia madre stavano, 106 Come ho udito dir mio padre in persona, Quando questo stesso gagliardo gentiluomo fu generato. Sul letto di morte egli per testamento lasciò A me le sue terre, e affermò sulla sua morte 110 Che questo figlio di mia madre non era suo; E se lo fosse, venne al mondo Ben quattordici settimane prima del corso del tempo. Dunque, mio buon sire, ch’io abbia ciò che è mio, La terra di mio padre, come fu volontà di mio padre. 115
RE GIOVANNI	Ehi tu, tuo fratello è legittimo. La moglie di tuo padre lo partorì dopo le nozze, E se ella fu infedele, la colpa fu sua, La qual colpa sta fra i rischi di tutti i mariti Che prendono moglie. Dimmi, e se mio fratello, Il quale, come dici, si prese la pena di generar questo figlio, Avesse a tuo padre reclamato questo figlio come suo ? In verità, buon amico, tuo padre avrebbe potuto tenere Questo vitello, nato dalla sua vacca, contro tutto il mondo; In verità l’avrebbe potuto. Se dunque fosse di mio fratello, 125 Mio fratello non potrebbe reclamarlo, né tuo padre, Non essendo suo, ricusarlo. Questo conclude: Il figlio di mia madre generò l’erede di tuo padre; L’erede di tuo padre deve avere la terra di tuo padre.
FALCONBRIDGE	Non avrà dunque forza alcuna il testamento di mio padre 130 Per spodestare quel figlio che non è suo?
BASTARDO	Non più forza per spodestare me, signore, Di quanta ne avesse la sua volontà a generarmi, com’io credo.
REGINA ELEONORA	Che preferiresti essere: un Falconbridge, E come tuo fratello goderti la tua terra, 135 O il reputato figlio di Cuor-di-Leone, Signore della tua persona, e nessuna terra oltre?
BASTARDO	Madama, se mio fratello avesse la mia figura, E io la sua, quella di Sir Robert simile a lui, E se le mie gambe fossero due tali bacchette da cavalcare, 140 Le mie braccia tali pelli d’anguilla imbottite, il mio volto sì sottile Che all’orecchio non osassi appuntare una rosa Per timore che si dicesse ‘Guarda dove il tre-quarti-di-penny va!’, E, con la sua figura, fossi erede di tutta questa terra, Che io non possa mai muovermi da questo luogo. La darei tutta, piede per piede, per avere questo volto; Non sarei Sir Testone in nessun caso.
REGINA ELEONORA	Tu mi piaci bene. Vuoi tu abbandonare la tua fortuna, Lasciare a lui la tua terra, e seguirmi? Io sono un soldato e ora in cammino per la Francia. 150
BASTARDO	Fratello, prenditi la mia terra; io prenderò la mia sorte. Il vostro volto ha guadagnato cinquecento sterline l’anno, Pur vendete il vostro volto per cinque pence ed è caro.— Madama, vi seguirò fino alla morte.
REGINA ELEONORA	No, vorrei che tu mi andassi innanzi colà. 155
BASTARDO	I nostri modi di campagna cedono il passo ai maggiori.
RE GIOVANNI	Qual è il tuo nome?
BASTARDO	Filippo, mio sire, così comincia il mio nome: Filippo, figlio primogenito della moglie del buon vecchio Sir Robert,
RE GIOVANNI	D’ora innanzi porta il nome di colui di cui porti la forma. 160 Inginocchiati, Filippo, ma sorgi più grande: Fa cavaliere il Bastardo Sorgi Sir Riccardo e Plantageneto.
BASTARDO	Fratello per parte di madre, dammi la tua mano. Mio padre mi diede onore, il tuo diede terra. Or sia benedetta l’ora, di notte o di giorno, 165 In cui fui generato, che Sir Robert era lontano.
REGINA ELEONORA	Lo spirito stesso del Plantageneto I Io sono la tua nonna, Riccardo; chiamami così.
BASTARDO	Madama, per caso, ma non per verità; e che importa? Un po’ di traverso, un poco fuor dal retto, Dentro dalla finestra, o pure oltre il cancelletto; Chi non osa muoversi di giorno deve andare di notte, E avere è avere, comunque gli uomini afferrino. Da presso o da lontano, ben vinto è pur ben colpito, E io sono io, comunque fossi generato.
RE GIOVANNI	Va’, Falconbridge, ora hai il tuo desiderio: Un cavaliere senza terra ti fa scudiero con terra.— Venite, madama, e vieni, Riccardo; dobbiamo far fretta Verso la Francia; verso la Francia, ché è più che necessario.
BASTARDO	Fratello, addio. Buona fortuna venga a te, 180 Ché tu fosti generato per la via dell’onestà.
(didascalia)	Escono tutti tranne il Bastardo
BASTARDO	Un piede d’onore meglio di quel che ero, Ma molti e molti piedi di terra peggio. Bene, ora posso far dama qualunque Gianna. ‘Buona sera, Sir Riccardo‘—’Dio ti dia grazia, amico’; E se il suo nome è Giorgio lo chiamerò Pietro, Ché l’onore appena fatto dimentica i nomi degli uomini; È troppo riguardoso e troppo socievole Per la vostra conversione. Or ecco il vostro viaggiatore, Lui e il suo stuzzicadenti alla mensa di mia signoria; 190 E quando il mio stomaco cavalleresco è sazio, Allora mi succhio i denti e catechizzo Il mio uomo scelto di molti paesi. ‘Mio caro signore,’ Così appoggiato sul gomito comincio, ‘Vi supplicherò—’. Questa ora è la Domanda; 195 E poi viene la Risposta come un libro d’abbaco. ‘Oh signore,’ dice la Risposta, ‘ai vostri migliori comandi, Al vostro impiego, al vostro servizio, signore.’ ‘No signore,’ dice la Domanda, ‘io, dolce signore, ai vostri.’ E così, prima che la Risposta sappia che vuole la Domanda, Salvo in dialogo di complimenti, E parlando delle Alpi e degli Appennini, Dei Pirenei e del fiume Po, Si volge verso la cena in conclusione così. Ma questa è compagnia onorevole, 205 E s’adatta allo spirito che sale, come il mio; Ché non è che un bastardo rispetto al tempo Chi non sa d’osservazione; E tale son io—che ne sappia o no, E non solo nell’abito e nell’impresa, 210 Nella forma esteriore, negli arredi di fuori, Ma dal moto interno—per porgere Dolce, dolce, dolce veleno per il palato del secolo; Il quale, sebbene non voglia praticarlo per ingannare, Pur per evitare l’inganno intendo apprendere; 215 Ché esso spargerà di fiori i passi della mia salita.
(didascalia)	Entrano Lady Falconbridge e James Gurney
BASTARDO	Ma chi viene con tanta fretta in abito da cavalcare? Che corriera è questa? Non ha marito Che si prenda la pena di soffiare un corno innanzi a lei? Ohimè, è mia madre! Che c’è, buona signora? 220 Che vi porta qui a corte con tanta fretta?
LADY FALCONBRIDGE	Dov’è quello schiavo di tuo fratello? Dov’è colui Che tiene in caccia il mio onore in su e in giù?
BASTARDO	Mio fratello Robert, il figlio del vecchio Sir Robert? Colbrand il Gigante, quello stesso uomo potente? 225 È il figlio di Sir Robert che così cercate?
LADY FALCONBRIDGE	Il figlio di Sir Robert, sì, ragazzo irriverente, Il figlio di Sir Robert. Perché scherni tu Sir Robert? Egli è figlio di Sir Robert, e così sei tu.
BASTARDO	James Gurney, vuoi lasciarci un poco? 230
GURNEY	Buon congedo, buon Filippo.
BASTARDO	Filippo Passero, James! Ci son novità in giro; poi ti dirò di più.
(didascalia)	Esce James Gurney
BASTARDO	Madama, io non fui figlio del vecchio Sir Robert. Sir Robert avrebbe potuto mangiare la sua parte in me Il Venerdì Santo, e non rompere il digiuno. 235 Sir Robert sapeva far bene, per la Vergine, a confessarlo, Poteva a generarmi! Sir Robert non lo poteva: Conosciamo l’opera delle sue mani. Perciò, buona madre, A chi sono debitore di queste membra? Sir Robert non aiutò mai a fare questa gamba. 240
LADY FALCONBRIDGE	Hai tu congiurato anche con tuo fratello, Sì che per tuo proprio guadagno dovresti difendere il mio onore? Che significa questo scherno, tu ribaldo tanto perverso?
BASTARDO	Cavaliere, cavaliere, buona madre, alla Basilisco! Che! Son fatto cavaliere; l’ho avuto sulla spalla. 245 Ma, madre, io non sono figlio di Sir Robert. Ho ripudiato Sir Robert; e la mia terra, La legittimazione, il nome, e tutto è andato. Dunque, mia buona madre, fatemi conoscere mio padre; Qualche uomo come si deve, spero; chi fu, madre? 250
LADY FALCONBRIDGE	Hai tu negato te stesso un Falconbridge ?
BASTARDO	Con la stessa fede con cui rinnego il diavolo.
LADY FALCONBRIDGE	Il Re Riccardo Cuor-di-Leone fu tuo padre. Per lunga e veemente istanza fui sedotta A fargli posto nel letto di mio marito. 255 Il cielo non m’imputi la mia trasgressione! Tu sei il frutto della mia cara colpa, Che fu premuta sì fortemente oltre la mia difesa.
BASTARDO	Or per questa luce, se dovessi esser generato di nuovo, Madama, non desidererei un padre migliore. 260 Alcuni peccati portano il loro privilegio sulla terra, E così il vostro; la vostra colpa non fu vostra follia. Per necessità dovevate porre il cuore a sua disposizione, Tributo soggetto all’amore che comanda, Contro la cui furia e forza senza pari 265 Il leone che non teme non poté sostener la lotta, Né tenere il suo principesco cuore dalla mano di Riccardo. Chi per forza ruba ai leoni il cuore Può facilmente vincere quello d’una donna. Sì, madre mia, Con tutto il cuore ti ringrazio per mio padre. 270 Chi vive e osa dire che tu non facesti bene Quando fui generato, la sua anima manderò all’inferno. Vieni, signora, ti mostrerò ai miei parenti, Ed essi diranno che, quando Riccardo mi generò, Se tu gli avessi detto no, sarebbe stato peccato. 275 Chi dice che lo fu, mente: io dico che non lo fu. Escono

Speaker	Line
(didascalia)	Flourish. Enter before Angers at one door Philip King of France, Louis the Dauphin, Lady Constance, and Arthur Duke of Brittaine, with soldiers; at another door the Duke of Austria, wearing a lion’s hide, with soldiers
(didascalia)	KING PHILIP
(didascalia)	Before Angers well met, brave Austria.— Arthur, that great forerunner of thy blood, Richard that robbed the lion of his heart And fought the holy wars in Palestine, By this brave duke came early to his grave; 5 And, for amends to his posterity, At our importance hither is he come To spread his colours, boy, in thy behalf, And to rebuke the usurpation Of thy unnatural uncle, English John. 10 Embrace him, love him, give him welcome hither.
ARTHUR	(to Austria) God shall forgive you Cœur-de-lion’s death, The rather that you give his offspring life, Shadowing their right under your wings of war. I give you welcome with a powerless hand, 15 But with a heart full of unstained love. Welcome before the gates of Angers, Duke.
(didascalia)	KING PHILIP
ARTHUR	A noble boy. Who would not do thee right?
AUSTRIA	(kissing Arthur) Upon thy cheek lay I this zealous kiss As seal to this indenture of my love: 20 That to my home I will no more return Till Angers and the right thou hast in France, Together with that pale, that white-faced shore, Whose foot spurns back the ocean’s roaring tides And coops from other lands her islanders, 25 Even till that England, hedged in with the main, That water-wallèd bulwark, still secure And confident from foreign purposes, Even till that utmost corner of the west Salute thee for her king. Till then, fair boy, Will I not think of home, but follow arms. C0NSTANCE O, take his mother’s thanks, a widow’s thanks, Till your strong hand shall help to give him strength To make a more requital to your love.
AUSTRIA	The peace of heaven is theirs that lift their swords In such a just and charitable war.
KING PHILIP	Well then, to work! Our cannon shall be bent Against the brows of this resisting town. Call for our chiefest men of discipline To cull the plots of best advantages. We’ll lay before this town our royal bones, Wade to the market-place in Frenchmen’s blood, But we will make it subject to this boy.
CONSTANCE	Stay for an answer to your embassy, Lest unadvised you stain your swords with blood. My lord Châtillon may from England bring That right in peace which here we urge in war, And then we shall repent each drop of blood That hot rash haste so indirectly shed.
(didascalia)	Enter Châtillon
KING PHILIP	A wonder, lady:lo upon thy wish Our messenger Châtillon is arrived.— What England says, say briefly, gentle lord; We coldly pause for thee. Châtillon, speak. CHÂTILLON Then turn your forces from this paltry siege, And stir them up against a mightier task. 55 England, impatient of your just demands, Hath put himself in arms. The adverse winds, Whose leisure I have stayed, have given him time To land his legions all as soon as I. His marches are expedient to this town, 60 His forces strong, his soldiers confident. With him along is come the Mother-Queen, An Ate stirring him to blood and strife; With her her niece, the Lady Blanche of Spain; With them a bastard of the King’s deceased; 65 And all th‘unsettled humours of the land— Rash, inconsiderate, fiery voluntaries, With ladies’ faces and fierce dragons’ spleens— Have sold their fortunes at their native homes, Bearing their birthrights proudly on their backs, 70 To make a hazard of new fortunes here. In brief, a braver choice of dauntless spirits Than now the English bottoms have waft o’er Did never float upon the swelling tide To do offence and scathe in Christendom. 75
(didascalia)	Drum beats
KING PHILIP	The interruption of their churlish drums Cuts off more circumstance. They are at hand; To parley or to fight therefore prepare.
KING PHILIP	How much unlooked-for is this expedition I
AUSTRIA	By how much unexpected, by so much 80 We must awake endeavour for defence, For courage mounteth with occasion. Let them be welcome then: we are prepared.
(didascalia)	Enter, marching, King John of England, the Bastard, Queen Eleanor, Lady Blanche, the Earl of Pembroke, and soldiers
KING JOHN	Peace be to France, if France in peace permit Our just and lineal entrance to our own. 85 If not, bleed France, and peace ascend to heaven, Whiles we, God’s wrathful agent, do correct Their proud contempt that beats his peace to heaven.
KING PHILIP	Peace be to England, if that war return From France to England, there to live in peace. England we love, and for that England’s sake With burden of our armour here we sweat. This toil of ours should be a work of thine; But thou from loving England art so far That thou hast underwrought his lawful king, 95 Cut off the sequence of posterity, Outfaced infant state, and done a rape Upon the maiden virtue of the crown. (Pointing to Arthur) Look here upon thy brother Geoffrey’s face. These eyes, these brows, were moulded out of his; 100 This little abstract doth contain that large Which died in Geoffrey; and the hand of time Shall draw this brief into as huge a volume. That Geoffrey was thy elder brother born, And this his son; England was Geoffrey’s right, 105 And this is Geoffrey’s. In the name of God, How comes it then that thou art called a king, When living blood doth in these temples beat, Which owe the crown that thou o’ermasterest?
KING JOHN	From whom hast thou this great commission, France, To draw my answer from thy articles? 111
KING PHILIP	From that supernal judge that stirs good thoughts In any breast of strong authority To look into the blots and stains of right. That judge hath made me guardian to this boy, 115 Under whose warrant I impeach thy wrong, And by whose help I mean to chastise it.
KING JOHN	Alack, thou dost usurp authority.
KING PHILIP	Excuse it is to beat usurping down.
QUEEN ELEANOR	Who is it thou dost call usurper, France? 120
CONSTANCE	Let me make answer: thy usurping son.
QUEEN ELEANOR	Out, insolent! Thy bastard shall be king That thou mayst be a queen and check the world.
CONSTANCE	My bed was ever to thy son as true As thine was to thy husband; and this boy 125 Liker in feature to his father Geoffrey Than thou and John in manners, being as like As rain to water, or devil to his dam. My boy a bastard? By my soul I think His father never was so true begot. 130 It cannot be, an if thou wert his mother.
QUEEN ELEANOR	(to Arthur) There’s a good mother, boy, that blots thy father.
CONSTANCE	(to Arthur) There’s a good grandam, boy, that would blot thee.
AUSTRIA	Peace!
BASTARD	Hear the crier!
AUSTRIA	What the devil art thou?
BASTARD	One that will play the devil, sir, with you, 135 An a may catch your hide and you alone. You are the hare of whom the proverb goes, Whose valour plucks dead lions by the beard. I’ll smoke your skin-coat an I catch you right— Sirrah, look to’t—i’faith I will, i’faith!! 140
BLANCHE	O, well did he become that lion’s robe That did disrobe the lion of that robe!
BASTARD	It lies as sightly on the back of him As great Alcides’ shows upon an ass. But, ass, I’ll take that burden from your back, 145 Or lay on that shall make your shoulders crack.
AUSTRIA	What cracker is this same that deafs our ears With this abundance of superfluous breath ?— King Philip, determine what we shall do straight.
(didascalia)	KING PHILIPI
AUSTRIA	Women and fools, break off your conference.—150 King John, this is the very sum of all: England and Ireland, Anjou, Touraine, Maine, In right of Arthur do I claim of thee. Wilt thou resign them and lay down thy arms?
KING JOHN	My life as soon. I do defy thee, France.—155 Arthur of Brittaine, yield thee to my hand, And out of my dear love I’ll give thee more Than e’er the coward hand of France can win. Submit thee, boy.
QUEEN ELEANOR	(to Arthur) Come to thy grandam, child.
CONSTANCE	(to Arthur) Do, child, go to it grandam, child. 160 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. 165 He weeps
QUEEN ELEANOR	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, Draw those heaven-moving pearls from his poor eyes, Which heaven shall take in nature of a fee; 170 Ay, with these crystal beads heaven shall be bribed To do him justice and revenge on you.
QUEEN ELEANOR	Thou monstrous slanderer of heaven and earth !
CONSTANCE	Thou monstrous injurer of heaven and earth I Call not me slanderer. Thou and thine usurp The dominations, royalties and rights Of this oppressed boy. This is thy eld’st 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 185 On this removed issue, plagued for her And with her plague; her sin his injury, Her injury the beadle to her sin; All punished in the person of this child, And all for her. A plague upon her! 190
QUEEN ELEANOR	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 cankered grandam’s will!
KING PHILIP	Peace, lady; pause or be more temperate. It ill beseems this presence to cry aim To these ill-tunèd repetitions.— Some trumpet summon hither to the walls These men of Angers. Let us hear them speak Whose title they admit, Arthur’s or John’s. 200
(didascalia)	Trumpet sounds. Enter a Citizen upon the walls
CITIZEN	Who is it that hath warned us to the walls?
KING PHILIP	’Tis France for England.
KING JOHN	England for itself. You men of Angers and my loving subjects—
KING PHILIP	You loving men of Angers, Arthur’s subjects, Our trumpet called you to this gentle parle—205
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 marched to your endamagement. The cannons have their bowels full of wrath, 210 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 Confront your city’s eyes, your winking gates; 215 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 fixèd beds of lime Had been dishabited, and wide havoc made 220 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 unscratched your city’s threatened cheeks, Behold the French, amazed, vouchsafe a parle; 226 And now instead of bullets wrapped 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; 230 Which trust accordingly, kind citizens, And let us in, your king, whose laboured 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. He takes Arthur’s hand Lo, in this right hand, whose protection Is most divinely vowed 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. 240 For this downtrodden 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 oppressèd child 245 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 sealed up: Our cannons’ malice vainly shall be spent Against th’invulnerable clouds of heaven, And with a blessèd and unvexed retire, With unhacked swords and helmets all unbruised, We will bear home that lusty blood again Which here we came to spout against your town, And leave your children, wives, and you in peace. But if you fondly pass our proffered offer, ’Tis not the roundure of your old-faced walls Can hide you from our messengers of war, 260 Though all these English and their discipline Were harboured in their rude circumference. Then tell us, shall your city call us lord In that behalf which we have challenged it, Or shall we give the signal to our rage, 265 And stalk in blood to our possession?
CITIZEN	In brief, we are the King of England’s subjects. For him and in his right we hold this town.
KING JOHN	Acknowledge then the King, and let me in.
CITIZEN	That can we not; but he that proves the king, 270 To him will we prove loyal; till that time Have we rammed up our gates against the world.
KING JOHN	Doth not the crown of England prove the king? And if not that, I bring you witnesses : Twice fifteen thousand hearts of England’s breed—
BASTARD	(aside) Bastards and else. 276
KING JOHN	To verify our title with their lives.
KING PHILIP	As many and as well-born bloods as those—
BASTARD	(aside) Some bastards too.
KING PHILIP	Stand in his face to contradict his claim. 280
CITIZEN	Till you compound whose right is worthiest, We for the worthiest hold the right from both.
KING JOHN	Then God forgive the sin of all those souls That to their everlasting residence, Before the dew of evening fall, shall fleet 285 In dreadful trial of our kingdom’s king.
KING PHILIP	Amen, Amen! Mount, chevaliers! To arms!
BASTARD	Saint George that swinged the dragon, and e’er since Sits on’s horseback at mine hostess’ door, Teach us some fence! (To Austria) Sirrah, were I at home 290 At your den, sirrah, with your lioness, I would set an ox-head to your lion’s hide And make a monster of you.
AUSTRIA	Peace, no more.
BASTARD	O tremble, for you hear the lion roar!
KING JOHN	Up higher to the plain, where we’ll set forth 295 In best appointment all our regiments.
BASTARD	Speed then, to take advantage of the field.
KING PHILIP	It shall be so, and at the other hill Command the rest to stand. God and our right!
(didascalia)	Exeunt severally King John and King Philip with their powers. The Citizen remains on the walls Alarum. Here, after excursions, enter at one door
FRENCH HERALD	You men of Angers, open wide your gates 300 And let young Arthur Duke of Brittaine in, Who by the hand of France this day hath made Much work for tears in many an English mother, Whose sons lie scattered on the bleeding ground; Many a widow’s husband grovelling lies, 305 Coldly embracing the discoloured earth; And victory with little loss doth play Upon the dancing banners of the French, Who are at hand, triumphantly displayed, To enter conquerors, and to proclaim 310 Arthur of Brittaine England’s king and yours.
(didascalia)	Enter at another door the English Herald, with a trumpeter
ENGLISH HERALD	Rejoice, you men of Angers, ring your bells! King John, your king and England’s, doth approach, Commander of this hot malicious day. Their armours that marched hence so silver-bright 315 Hither return all gilt with Frenchmen’s blood. There stuck no plume in any English crest That is removed by a staff of France; Our colours do return in those same hands That did display them when we first marched forth; And like a jolly troop of huntsmen come 321 Our lusty English, all with purpled hands Dyed in the dying slaughter of their foes. Open your gates and give the victors way.
(didascalia)	CITIZEN
ENGLISH HERALD	Heralds, from off our towers we might behold 325 From first to last the onset and retire Of both your armies, whose equality By our best eyes cannot be censurèd. Blood hath bought blood and blows have answered blows, Strength matched with strength and power confronted power. 330 Both are alike, and both alike we like. One must prove greatest. While they weigh so even, We hold our town for neither, yet for both.
(didascalia)	Enter at one door King John, the Bastard, Queen Eleanor and Lady Blanche, with soldiers; at another door King Philip, Louis the Dauphin, and the Duke of Austria with soldiers
KING JOHN	France, hast thou yet more blood to cast away? Say, shall the current of our right run on, 335 Whose passage, vexed with thy impediment, Shall leave his native channel and o’erswell With course disturbed even thy confining shores, Unless thou let his silver water keep A peaceful progress to the ocean? 340
KING PHILIP	England, thou hast not saved one drop of blood In this hot trial more than we of France; Rather, lost more. And by this hand I swear, That sways the earth this climate overlooks, Before we will lay down our just-borne arms, 345 We’ll put thee down ’gainst whom these arms we bear, Or add a royal number to the dead, Gracing the scroll that tells of this war’s loss With slaughter coupled to the name of kings.
BASTARD	Ha, majesty! How high thy glory towers 350 When the rich blood of kings is set on fire! O, now doth Death line his dead chaps with steel; The swords of soldiers are his teeth, his fangs; And now he feasts, mousing the flesh of men In undetermined differences of kings. Why stand these royal fronts amazed thus? Cry havoc, Kings! Back to the stained field, You equal potents, fiery-kindled spirits! Then let confusion of one part confirm The other’s peace; till then, blows, blood, and death!
KING JOHN	Whose party do the townsmen yet admit?
KING PHILIP	Speak, citizens, for England: who’s your king?
(didascalia)	CITIZEN
KING PHILIP	The King of England, when we know the King.
KING PHILIP	Know him in us, that here hold up his right.
KING JOHN	In us, that are our own great deputy And bear possession of our person here, Lord of our presence, Angers, and of you.
(didascalia)	[CITIZEN
KING JOHN	A greater power than we denies all this, And, till it be undoubted, we do lock Our former scruple in our strong-barred gates, 370 Kinged of our fear, until our fears resolved Be by some certain king, purged and deposed.
BASTARD	By heaven, these scroyles of Angers flout you, Kings, And stand securely on their battlements As in a theatre, whence they gape and point 375 At your industrious scenes and acts of death. Your royal presences be ruled by me. Do like the mutines of Jerusalem: Be friends awhile, and both conjointly bend Your sharpest deeds of malice on this town. 380 By east and west let France and England mount Their battering cannon, charged to the mouths, Till their soul-fearing clamours have brawled down The flinty ribs of this contemptuous city. I’d play incessantly upon these jades, Even till unfenced desolation Leave them as naked as the vulgar air. That done, dissever your united strengths, And part your mingled colours once again; Turn face to face, and bloody point to point. Then in a moment Fortune shall cull forth Out of one side her happy minion, To whom in favour she shall give the day, And kiss him with a glorious victory. How like you this wild counsel, mighty states? Smacks it not something of the policy ?
KING JOHN	Now, by the sky that hangs above our heads, I like it well.-France, shall we knit our powers, And lay this Angers even with the ground, Then after fight who shall be king of it?
BASTARD	(to King Philip) An if thou hast the mettle of a king, Being wronged as we are by this peevish town, Turn thou the mouth of thy artillery, As we will ours, against these saucy walls; And when that we have dashed them to the ground, Why, then defy each other, and pell-mell Make work upon ourselves, for heaven or hell.
KING PHILIP	Let it be so.-Say, where will you assault?
KING JOHN	We from the west will send destruction Into this city’s bosom.
AUSTRIA	I from the north.
KING PHILIP	Our thunder from the south Shall rain their drift of bullets on this town.
(didascalia)	BASTARD to King John
KING PHILIP	O prudent discipline! From north to south Austria and France shoot in each other’s mouth. I’ll stir them to it. Come, away, away!
(didascalia)	CITIZEN
KING PHILIP	Hear us, great Kings, vouchsafe a while to stay, And I shall show you peace and fair-faced league. Win you this city without stroke or wound; Rescue those breathing lives to die in beds, 420 That here come sacrifices for the field. Persever not, but hear me, mighty Kings.
KING JOHN	Speak on with favour; we are bent to hear.
(didascalia)	CITIZEN
KING JOHN	That daughter there of Spain, the Lady Blanche, Is niece to England. Look upon the years 425 Of Louis the Dauphin and that lovely maid. If lusty love should go in quest of beauty, Where should he find it fairer than in Blanche? If zealous love should go in search of virtue, Where should he find it purer than in Blanche? 430 If love ambitious sought a match of birth, Whose veins bound richer blood than Lady Blanche? Such as she is in beauty, virtue, birth, Is the young Dauphin every way complete; If not complete, O, say he is not she; 435 And she again wants nothing—to name want— If want it be not that she is not he. He is the half part of a blessed man, Left to be finished by such as she; And she a fair divided excellence, 440 Whose fullness of perfection lies in him. O, two such silver currents when they join Do glorify the banks that bound them in, And two such shores to two such streams made one, Two such controlling bounds, shall you be, Kings, 445 To these two princes if you marry them. This union shall do more than battery can To our fast-closed gates, for at this match, With swifter spleen than powder can enforce, The mouth of passage shall we fling wide ope, 450 And give you entrance. But without this match The sea enraged is not half so deaf, Lions more confident, mountains and rocks More free from motion, no, not Death himself In mortal fury half so peremptory, 455 As we to keep this city.
(didascalia)	BASTARD aside Here’s a stay
KING JOHN	That shakes the rotten carcass of old Death Out of his rags. Here’s a large mouth, indeed, That spits forth Death and mountains, rocks and seas, Talks as familiarly of roaring lions 460 As maids of thirteen do of puppy-dogs. What cannoneer begot this lusty blood? He speaks plain cannon: fire, and smoke, and bounce; He gives the bastinado with his tongue; Our ears are cudgelled; not a word of his 465 But buffets better than a fist of France. Zounds! I was never so bethumped with words Since I first called my brother’s father Dad.
QUEEN ELEANOR	(aside to King John) Son, list to this conjunction, make this match, Give with our niece a dowry large enough; 470 For, by this knot, thou shalt so surely tie Thy now unsured assurance to the crown That yon green boy shall have no sun to ripe The bloom that promiseth a mighty fruit. I see a yielding in the looks of France; 475 Mark how they whisper. Urge them while their souls Are capable of this ambition, Lest zeal, now melted by the windy breath Of soft petitions, pity, and remorse, Cool and congeal again to what it was.
(didascalia)	CITIZEN
QUEEN ELEANOR	Why answer not the double majesties This friendly treaty of our threatened town?
KING PHILIP	Speak England first, that hath been forward first To speak unto this city: what say you?
KING JOHN	If that the Dauphin there, thy princely son, 485 Can in this book of beauty read ‘I love’, Her dowry shall weigh equal with a queen; For Anjou and fair Touraine, Maine, Poitou, And all that we upon this side the sea— Except this city now by us besieged—490 Find liable to our crown and dignity, Shall gild her bridal bed, and make her rich In titles, honours, and promotions, As she in beauty, education, blood, Holds hand with any princess of the world. 495
KING PHILIP	What sayst thou, boy? Look in the lady’s face.
LOUIS THE DAUPHIN	I do, my lord, and in her eye I find A wonder, or a wondrous miracle, The shadow of myself formed in her eye; Which, being but the shadow of your son, 500 Becomes a sun and makes your son a shadow. I do protest I never loved myself Till now enfixèd I beheld myself Drawn in the flattering table of her eye. He whispers with Blanche
BASTARD	(aside) Drawn in the flattering table of her eye, 505 Hanged in the frowning wrinkle of her brow, And quartered in her heart: he doth espy Himself love’s traitor. This is pity now, That hanged and drawn and quartered there should be In such a love so vile a lout as he. 510
BLANCHE	(to Louis the Dauphin) My uncle’s will in this respect is mine. If he see aught in you that makes him like, That anything 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 see in you, Though churlish thoughts themselves should be your judge, 520 That I can find should merit any hate.
KING JOHN	What say these young ones? What say you, my niece?
BLANCHE	That she is bound in honour still to do What you in wisdom shall vouchsafe to say.
KING JOHN	Speak then, Prince Dauphin, can you love this lady?
LOUIS THE DAUPHIN	Nay, ask me if I can refrain from love, 526 For I do love her most unfeignedly.
KING JOHN	Then do I give Volquessen, Touraine, Maine, Poitou, and Anjou, these five provinces, With her to thee, and this addition more: 530 Full thirty thousand marks of English coin. Philip of France, if thou be pleased withal, Command thy son and daughter to join hands.
KING PHILIP	It likes us well.—Young princes, close your hands.
AUSTRIA	And your lips too, for I am well assured 535 That I did so when I was first assured.
(didascalia)	Louis the Dauphin and Lady Blanche join hands and kiss
KING PHILIP	Now citizens of Angers, ope your gates. Let in that amity which you have made, For at Saint Mary’s chapel presently The rites of marriage shall be solemnized.—540 Is not the Lady Constance in this troop? (Aside) I know she is not, for this match made up Her presence would have interrupted much. (Aloud) Where is she and her son ? Tell me who knows.
LOUIS THE DAUPHIN	She is sad and passionate at your highness’ tent. 545
KING PHILIP	And by my faith this league that we have made Will give her sadness very little cure.— Brother of England, how may we content This widow lady? In her right we came, Which we, God knows, have turned another way 550 To our own vantage.
KING JOHN	We will heal up all, For we’ll create young Arthur Duke of Brittaine 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 satisfy her so That we shall stop her exclamation. Go we as well as haste will suffer us 560 To this unlooked-for, unprepared pomp.
(didascalia)	Flourish. Exeunt all but the Bastard
BASTARD	Mad world, mad kings, mad composition! John, 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 566 As God’s own soldier, rounded in the ear With that same purpose-changer, that sly devil, That broker that still breaks the pate of faith, That daily break-vow, he that wins of all, 570 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-faced gentleman, tickling commodity; Commodity, the bias of the world, 575 The world who of itself is peisèd well, Made to run even upon even ground, Till this advantage, this vile-drawing bias, This sway of motion, this commodity, Makes it take head from all indifferency, 580 From all direction, purpose, course, intent; And this same bias, this commodity, This bawd, this broker, this all-changing word, Clapped on the outward eye of fickle France, Hath drawn him from his own determined aid, 585 From a resolved and honourable war, To a most base and vile-concluded peace. And why rail I on this commodity? But for because he hath not wooed me yet— Not that I have the power to clutch my hand 590 When his fair angels would salute my palm, But for my hand, as unattempted yet, Like a poor beggar raileth on the rich. Well, whiles I am a beggar I will rail, And say there is no sin but to be rich, 595 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. Exit

Chi parla	Battuta
(didascalia)	Squilli di trombe. Entrano dinanzi ad Angers da una porta Filippo Re di Francia, Luigi il Delfino, la Lady Costanza, e Arturo Duca di Bretagna, con soldati; da un’altra porta il Duca d’Austria, che porta una pelle di leone, con soldati
(didascalia)	RE FILIPPO
(didascalia)	Dinanzi ad Angers ben trovato, bravo Austria.— Arturo, quel grande precursore del tuo sangue, Riccardo che rubò al leone il cuore E combatté le sante guerre in Palestina, Per opera di questo bravo duca giunse presto alla sua fossa; 5 E, in ammenda verso la sua posterità, Alla nostra istanza egli è venuto qui A spiegare i suoi colori, ragazzo, in tuo favore, E a riprendere l’usurpazione Del tuo snaturato zio, Giovanni d’Inghilterra. 10 Abbraccialo, amalo, dagli qui il benvenuto.
ARTHUR	(ad Austria) Dio vi perdonerà la morte di Cuor-di-Leone, Tanto più che voi date vita alla sua progenie, Adombrando il loro diritto sotto le vostre ali di guerra. Vi do il benvenuto con mano senza potere, 15 Ma con un cuore pieno d’amore immacolato. Benvenuto dinanzi alle porte d’Angers, Duca.
(didascalia)	RE FILIPPO
ARTHUR	Un nobile ragazzo. Chi non ti farebbe giustizia?
AUSTRIA	(baciando Arturo) Sulla tua guancia pongo questo zelante bacio Come sigillo a questo patto del mio amore: 20 Che alla mia patria non farò più ritorno Finché Angers e il diritto che hai in Francia, Insieme con quella pallida, quella bianca riva, Il cui piede respinge le ruggenti maree dell’oceano E chiude dagli altri paesi i suoi isolani, 25 Fin che quell’Inghilterra, cinta dal mare, Quel bastione murato d’acqua, sempre sicuro E fidente contro i disegni stranieri, Fin che quell’estremo angolo d’occidente Ti saluti come suo re. Fino a quel giorno, bel ragazzo, Non penserò alla patria, ma seguirò le armi. C0NSTANCE Oh, accogliete i ringraziamenti di sua madre, i ringraziamenti d’una vedova, Finché la vostra forte mano aiuti a dargli forza Per rendere miglior ricambio al vostro amore.
AUSTRIA	La pace del cielo è di coloro che levano le spade In una guerra così giusta e caritatevole.
RE FILIPPO	Bene dunque, all’opera! Il nostro cannone sarà puntato Contro le fronti di questa città che resiste. Chiamate i nostri primi uomini di disciplina A scegliere i luoghi di maggior vantaggio. Deporremo dinanzi a questa città le nostre regali ossa, Guazzeremo fino alla piazza nel sangue dei Francesi, Ma la faremo soggetta a questo ragazzo.
CONSTANCE	Attendete risposta alla vostra ambasciata, Ché inconsulti non macchiate le spade di sangue. Il mio signore Châtillon può recare dall’Inghilterra In pace quel diritto che qui reclamiamo in guerra, E allora ci pentiremo d’ogni goccia di sangue Che una calda temeraria fretta ha sì indirettamente versato.
(didascalia)	Entra Châtillon
RE FILIPPO	Un prodigio, signora:ecco, al tuo desiderio Il nostro messaggero Châtillon è arrivato.— Ciò che dice l’Inghilterra, ditelo in breve, gentile signore; Freddamente ci fermiamo per te. Châtillon, parla. CHÂTILLON Volgete dunque le vostre forze via da questo meschino assedio, E incitatele a un compito più poderoso. 55 L’Inghilterra, impaziente delle vostre giuste richieste, S’è messa in armi. I venti contrari, Il cui ozio ho atteso, gli hanno dato tempo Di sbarcare le sue legioni tutte non più tardi di me. Le sue marce sono spedite verso questa città, 60 Le sue forze robuste, i suoi soldati fiduciosi. Con lui è venuta la Regina madre, Un’Ate che lo incita al sangue e alla contesa; Con lei la sua nipote, la Lady Bianca di Spagna; Con loro un bastardo del Re defunto; 65 E tutti gli umori inquieti del paese— Temerari, inconsiderati, focosi volontari, Con volti di dame e fegati di fieri draghi— Hanno venduto le loro fortune nelle case native, Portando fieramente sul dorso i loro diritti di nascita, 70 Per azzardare qui nuove fortune. In breve, una più valorosa scelta di spiriti indomiti Di quanti ora le carene inglesi han traghettato Non galleggiò mai sulla marea gonfiante Per far offesa e danno nella cristianità. 75
(didascalia)	Rullo di tamburi
RE FILIPPO	L’interruzione dei loro rozzi tamburi Taglia corto a ogni altro particolare. Son vicini; A parlamentare o a combattere dunque preparatevi.
RE FILIPPO	Quanto inattesa è questa spedizione I
AUSTRIA	Di quanto è inattesa, di tanto 80 Dobbiamo destare lo sforzo per la difesa, Ché il coraggio cresce con l’occasione. Siano dunque benvenuti: noi siamo preparati.
(didascalia)	Entrano, marciando, Re Giovanni d’Inghilterra, il Bastardo, la Regina Eleonora, la Lady Bianca, il Conte di Pembroke, e soldati
RE GIOVANNI	Pace sia alla Francia, se la Francia in pace consente Il nostro giusto e diretto ingresso in ciò che è nostro. 85 Se no, sanguini la Francia, e la pace risalga al cielo, Mentre noi, irato strumento di Dio, correggiamo Quel loro superbo disprezzo che ricaccia in cielo la sua pace.
RE FILIPPO	Pace sia all’Inghilterra, se la guerra ritorni Dalla Francia all’Inghilterra, per vivervi in pace. L’Inghilterra noi amiamo, e per amore di quell’Inghilterra Col peso della nostra armatura qui sudiamo. Questa nostra fatica dovrebbe essere opera tua; Ma tu dall’amare l’Inghilterra sei tanto lontano Che hai scalzato il suo legittimo re, 95 Troncato la successione della posterità, Sfrontato un dominio infante, e commesso violenza Sulla virtù verginale della corona. (Indicando Arturo) Guarda qui il volto di tuo fratello Goffredo. Questi occhi, queste ciglia, furon foggiati dai suoi; 100 Questo piccolo compendio contiene quel grande Che morì in Goffredo; e la mano del tempo Distenderà questo breve in altrettanto vasto volume. Che Goffredo nacque tuo fratello maggiore, E questi è suo figlio; l’Inghilterra era diritto di Goffredo, 105 E questi è di Goffredo. In nome di Dio, Come avviene dunque che tu sia chiamato re, Quando vivo sangue batte in queste tempie, Alle quali spetta la corona che tu soggioghi?
RE GIOVANNI	Da chi hai tu questa grande commissione, Francia, Per estorcere la mia risposta ai tuoi articoli? 111
RE FILIPPO	Da quel giudice supremo che muove buoni pensieri In ogni petto di forte autorità A guardare nelle macchie e nelle brutture del diritto. Quel giudice m’ha fatto tutore di questo ragazzo, 115 Per suo mandato io accuso il tuo torto, E col suo aiuto intendo castigarlo.
RE GIOVANNI	Ahimè, tu usurpi l’autorità.
RE FILIPPO	Scusa è l’abbattere l’usurpazione.
REGINA ELEONORA	Chi è colui che tu chiami usurpatore, Francia? 120
CONSTANCE	Lascia che risponda io: il tuo figlio usurpatore.
REGINA ELEONORA	Via, insolente! Il tuo bastardo sarà re Perché tu possa essere regina e tener a scacco il mondo.
CONSTANCE	Il mio letto fu sempre a tuo figlio tanto fedele Quanto il tuo al tuo marito; e questo ragazzo 125 Più somigliante nei tratti a suo padre Goffredo Che tu e Giovanni nei costumi, essendo simili Come pioggia ad acqua, o diavolo a sua madre. Bastardo il mio ragazzo? Per la mia anima io credo Che suo padre non fu mai generato così legittimo. 130 Non può essere, se tu fosti sua madre.
REGINA ELEONORA	(a Arturo) Ecco una buona madre, ragazzo, che macchia tuo padre.
CONSTANCE	(a Arturo) Ecco una buona nonna, ragazzo, che vorrebbe macchiar te.
AUSTRIA	Pace!
BASTARDO	Udite il banditore!
AUSTRIA	Chi diavolo sei tu?
BASTARDO	Uno che farà il diavolo, signore, con voi, 135 Se a può cogliere la vostra pelle e voi solo. Voi siete la lepre di cui parla il proverbio, Il cui valore tira per la barba i leoni morti. V’affumicherò il giubbetto di pelle se vi prendo giusto— Ehi tu, badaci—in fede lo farò, in fede!! 140
BIANCA	Oh, bene gli si addiceva quella veste di leone A chi spogliò il leone di quella veste!
BASTARDO	Gli sta sulle spalle tanto bene Quanto la spoglia del grande Alcide su un asino. Ma, asino, ti torrò quel carico dal dorso, 145 O ve ne porrò tale che vi farà scricchiolare le spalle.
AUSTRIA	Che spaccone è costui che ci assorda gli orecchi Con questa abbondanza di fiato superfluo ?— Re Filippo, decidete subito che dobbiamo fare.
(didascalia)	RE FILIPPOI
AUSTRIA	Donne e sciocchi, rompete il vostro colloquio.—150 Re Giovanni, questa è la somma di tutto: Inghilterra e Irlanda, Anjou, Touraine, Maine, In diritto di Arturo io reclamo da te. Vuoi tu cederli e deporre le armi?
RE GIOVANNI	Prima la mia vita. Io ti sfido, Francia.—155 Arturo di Bretagna, arrenditi alla mia mano, E per il mio caro amore ti darò più Di quanto la codarda mano di Francia possa mai vincere. Sottomettiti, ragazzo.
REGINA ELEONORA	(a Arturo) Vieni dalla tua nonna, fanciullo.
CONSTANCE	(a Arturo) Sì, fanciullo, va’ dalla sua nonna, fanciullo. 160 Dà alla nonna il regno, e la sua nonna Gli darà una prugna, una ciliegia e un fico. Ecco una buona nonna.
ARTHUR	Mia buona madre, pace. Vorrei esser deposto giù nella mia fossa. Non valgo questo trambusto che si fa per me. 165 Piange
REGINA ELEONORA	Sua madre lo svergogna tanto, povero ragazzo, che piange.
CONSTANCE	Vergogna a te, che lo faccia o no ! I torti di sua nonna, e non le vergogne di sua madre, Traggono quelle perle che muovono il cielo dai suoi poveri occhi, Le quali il cielo prenderà a natura d’onorario; 170 Sì, con questi grani di cristallo il cielo sarà corrotto A fargli giustizia e vendetta su di te.
REGINA ELEONORA	Tu mostruosa calunniatrice del cielo e della terra !
CONSTANCE	Tu mostruosa offenditrice del cielo e della terra I Non chiamar me calunniatrice. Tu e i tuoi usurpate I domini, le regalità e i diritti Di questo ragazzo oppresso. Questi è il figlio del tuo figlio maggiore, Sventurato in nulla se non in te. I tuoi peccati son visitati in questo povero fanciullo; Il canone della legge è posto su di lui, Non essendo che alla seconda generazione Rimossa dal tuo grembo concepitore di peccato.
RE GIOVANNI	Pazza, finiscila.
CONSTANCE	Non ho che questo da dire: Che egli non è soltanto flagellato per il peccato di lei, Ma Dio ha fatto del peccato di lei e di lei stessa il flagello 185 Su questa remota progenie, flagellata per lei E col flagello di lei; il peccato di lei l’offesa di lui, L’offesa di lei il bargello del suo peccato; Tutto punito nella persona di questo fanciullo, E tutto per lei. Un flagello su di lei! 190
REGINA ELEONORA	Tu megera inconsulta, io posso produrre Un testamento che sbarra il titolo di tuo figlio.
CONSTANCE	Sì, chi ne dubita? Un testamento, un iniquo testamento, Il testamento d’una donna, il testamento d’una nonna incancherita!
RE FILIPPO	Pace, signora; fermatevi o siate più temperata. Male s’addice a questa presenza dar plauso A queste scordate ripetizioni.— Una tromba chiami qui alle mura Questi uomini d’Angers. Udiamoli dire Qual titolo ammettono, quello d’Arturo o di Giovanni. 200
(didascalia)	Suona la tromba. Entra un Cittadino sulle mura
CITTADINO	Chi è che ci ha chiamati alle mura?
RE FILIPPO	È la Francia per l’Inghilterra.
RE GIOVANNI	L’Inghilterra per sé stessa. Voi uomini d’Angers e miei amorevoli sudditi—
RE FILIPPO	Voi amorevoli uomini d’Angers, sudditi d’Arturo, La nostra tromba vi chiamò a questo gentile parlamento—205
RE GIOVANNI	A nostro vantaggio; udite dunque noi per primi. Queste bandiere di Francia che qui son levate Dinanzi all’occhio e alla vista della vostra città, Han marciato qui a vostro danno. I cannoni han le viscere piene d’ira, 210 E son pronti in batteria per sputare La loro ferrea indignazione contro le vostre mura. Ogni apparecchio per un sanguinoso assedio E spietato procedere da parte di questi Francesi Sta di fronte agli occhi della vostra città, alle vostre porte serrate; 215 E se non fosse per il nostro arrivo, quelle pietre dormienti Che come una cintura vi cingono d’intorno, Per la violenza delle loro artiglierie, A quest’ora dai loro fissi letti di calce Sarebbero state sfrattate, e largo sterminio fatto 220 Perché sanguinosa potenza irrompesse sulla vostra pace. Ma alla vista di noi vostro legittimo re, Che penosamente, con marcia molto spedita, Abbiamo recato un contrasto dinanzi alle vostre porte Per salvare intatte le guance minacciate della vostra città, Ecco che i Francesi, stupiti, concedono un parlamento; 226 E ora invece di palle avvolte nel fuoco Per fare una febbre tremante nelle vostre mura, Non lanciano che calme parole ripiegate nel fumo Per fare un infido errore nei vostri orecchi; 230 Alle quali credete di conseguenza, cortesi cittadini, E fate entrare noi, vostro re, i cui spiriti affaticati, Sfiniti in questa azione di rapida corsa, Chiedono ricovero entro le mura della vostra città.
RE FILIPPO	Quando avrò detto, rispondete a noi due. Prende la mano d’Arturo Ecco, in questa destra, la cui protezione È divinamente giurata sul diritto Di colui che tiene, sta il giovane Plantageneto, Figlio del fratello maggiore di quest’uomo E re sopra lui e su tutto ciò che egli gode. 240 Per questa equità calpestata noi calchiamo In marcia guerresca questi prati dinanzi alla vostra città, Non essendovi nemici più oltre Di quanto la costrizione d’un ospitale zelo Nel soccorso di questo oppresso fanciullo 245 Religiosamente provochi. Vi piaccia dunque Di pagare quel debito che veramente dovete A colui a cui è dovuto, cioè questo giovane principe; E allora le nostre armi, come orso con la museruola, Salvo nell’aspetto, hanno ogni offesa sigillata: La malizia dei nostri cannoni sarà spesa in vano Contro le invulnerabili nubi del cielo, E con benedetta e non molestata ritirata, Con spade non scheggiate ed elmi tutti non ammaccati, Riporteremo in patria quel gagliardo sangue Che qui venimmo a spargere contro la vostra città, E lasceremo i vostri figli, le mogli e voi in pace. Ma se scioccamente trascurate l’offerta che vi porgiamo, Non è la cerchia delle vostre mura dal volto antico Che possa nascondervi dai nostri messaggeri di guerra, 260 Anche se tutti questi Inglesi e la loro disciplina Fossero alloggiati nella loro rude circonferenza. Diteci dunque, la vostra città ci chiamerà signore In quel nome per cui l’abbiamo intimata, O daremo il segnale alla nostra rabbia, 265 E avanzeremo nel sangue al nostro possesso?
CITTADINO	In breve, noi siamo sudditi del Re d’Inghilterra. Per lui e nel suo diritto teniamo questa città.
RE GIOVANNI	Riconoscete dunque il Re, e fatemi entrare.
CITTADINO	Ciò non possiamo; ma a chi si provi re, 270 A lui ci proveremo leali; fino a quel tempo Abbiamo sbarrato le nostre porte contro il mondo.
RE GIOVANNI	Non prova la corona d’Inghilterra chi sia il re? E se non quella, io vi porto testimoni : Due volte quindicimila cuori di razza inglese—
BASTARDO	(a parte) Bastardi e altro. 276
RE GIOVANNI	Per verificare il nostro titolo con le loro vite.
RE FILIPPO	Altrettanti e altrettanto ben nati sangui che quelli—
BASTARDO	(a parte) Anche qualche bastardo.
RE FILIPPO	Stanno in faccia a lui per contraddire la sua pretesa. 280
CITTADINO	Finché non componete di chi sia il diritto più degno, Noi per il più degno teniamo il diritto negato a entrambi.
RE GIOVANNI	Dio perdoni dunque il peccato di tutte quelle anime Che alla loro sede eterna, Prima che cada la rugiada della sera, voleranno 285 Nella terribile prova di chi sia il re del nostro regno.
RE FILIPPO	Amen, Amen! In sella, cavalieri! All’armi!
BASTARDO	San Giorgio che frustò il drago, e da allora Siede a cavallo alla porta della mia ostessa, Insegnaci qualche schermo! (Ad Austria) Ehi tu, se fossi a casa 290 Nella tua tana, ehi tu, con la tua leonessa, Metterei un capo di bue alla tua pelle di leone E farei di te un mostro.
AUSTRIA	Pace, basta.
BASTARDO	Oh trema, ché senti ruggire il leone!
RE GIOVANNI	Più in alto verso il piano, dove schiereremo 295 Nel miglior assetto tutti i nostri reggimenti.
BASTARDO	Fretta dunque, a prender vantaggio del campo.
RE FILIPPO	Così sia, e all’altra collina Ordinate al resto di fermarsi. Dio e il nostro diritto!
(didascalia)	Escono separatamente Re Giovanni e Re Filippo con le loro forze. Il Cittadino resta sulle mura Allarme. Qui, dopo scaramucce, entra da una porta
ARALDO FRANCESE	Voi uomini d’Angers, aprite larghe le vostre porte 300 E fate entrare il giovane Arturo Duca di Bretagna, Il quale per mano di Francia oggi ha fatto Molto lavoro per le lacrime in più d’una madre inglese, I cui figli giacciono sparsi sul terreno sanguinante; Più d’un marito di vedova giace prostrato, 305 Freddamente abbracciando la terra scolorita; E la vittoria con poca perdita gioca Sui danzanti stendardi dei Francesi, I quali son vicini, trionfalmente schierati, Per entrare conquistatori, e proclamare 310 Arturo di Bretagna re d’Inghilterra e vostro.
(didascalia)	Entra da un’altra porta l’Araldo Inglese, con un trombettiere
ARALDO INGLESE	Rallegratevi, uomini d’Angers, suonate le vostre campane! Re Giovanni, vostro re e d’Inghilterra, s’appressa, Comandante di questa calda maligna giornata. Le loro armature che partiron di qui sì lucenti d’argento 315 Qui ritornano tutte dorate del sangue dei Francesi. Non fu piantato pennacchio in cimiero inglese Che sia rimosso da un’asta di Francia; I nostri colori tornano in quelle stesse mani Che li spiegarono quando in principio uscimmo in marcia; E come allegra brigata di cacciatori vengono 321 I nostri gagliardi Inglesi, tutti con mani imporporate Tinte nel morente macello dei loro nemici. Aprite le porte e date la via ai vincitori.
(didascalia)	CITTADINO
ARALDO INGLESE	Araldi, dalle nostre torri potemmo scorgere 325 Dal principio alla fine l’assalto e la ritirata D’entrambi i vostri eserciti, la cui parità Dai nostri migliori occhi non può esser giudicata. Sangue ha comprato sangue e i colpi han risposto ai colpi, Forza s’è pareggiata a forza e potenza ha affrontato potenza. 330 Entrambi son pari, ed entrambi ci piacciono pari. Uno deve provarsi maggiore. Mentre pesano così uguali, Teniamo la nostra città per nessuno dei due, e pure per entrambi.
(didascalia)	Entrano da una porta Re Giovanni, il Bastardo, la Regina Eleonora e la Lady Bianca, con soldati; da un’altra porta Re Filippo, Luigi il Delfino, e il Duca d’Austria con soldati
RE GIOVANNI	Francia, hai tu ancora sangue da gettar via? Di’, correrà avanti la corrente del nostro diritto, 335 Il cui passaggio, vessato dal tuo impedimento, Lascerà il suo alveo natale e straripando Con corso turbato inonderà persino le tue rive confinanti, Se tu non lasci che la sua argentea acqua tenga Un pacifico cammino verso l’oceano? 340
RE FILIPPO	Inghilterra, non hai risparmiato una goccia di sangue In questa calda prova più di noi di Francia; Anzi, ne perdesti di più. E per questa mano io giuro, Che governa la terra su cui questo cielo si affaccia, Prima di deporre le nostre armi giustamente portate, 345 Abbatteremo te contro cui queste armi portiamo, O aggiungeremo un numero regale ai morti, Fregiando il rotolo che narra la perdita di questa guerra Con la strage accoppiata al nome dei re.
BASTARDO	Ah, maestà! Come alta s’innalza la tua gloria 350 Quando il ricco sangue dei re è messo a fuoco! Oh, or la Morte fodera d’acciaio le sue morte mascelle; Le spade dei soldati sono i suoi denti, le sue zanne; E ora banchetta, sbranando la carne degli uomini In indecise contese di re. Perché stanno queste regali fronti così stupite? Grida sterminio, o Re! Tornate al campo macchiato, Voi pari potenze, spiriti accesi di fuoco! Poi lasciate che la rovina d’una parte confermi La pace dell’altra; fino allora, colpi, sangue e morte!
RE GIOVANNI	Quale parte ammettono ancora i cittadini?
RE FILIPPO	Parlate, cittadini, per l’Inghilterra: chi è il vostro re?
(didascalia)	CITTADINO
RE FILIPPO	Il Re d’Inghilterra, quando conosceremo il Re.
RE FILIPPO	Conoscetelo in noi, che qui sosteniamo il suo diritto.
RE GIOVANNI	In noi, che siamo nostro proprio grande vicario E qui portiamo il possesso della nostra persona, Signore della nostra presenza, d’Angers e di voi.
(didascalia)	[CITTADINO
RE GIOVANNI	Un potere maggiore di noi nega tutto questo, E, finché non sia indubitato, noi serriamo Il nostro antico scrupolo nelle nostre porte ben sbarrate, 370 Regnati dal nostro timore, finché i nostri timori risolti Siano da qualche re certo purgati e deposti.
BASTARDO	Per il cielo, questi pezzenti d’Angers vi beffano, o Re, E stanno sicuri sui loro merli Come in un teatro, donde spalancano gli occhi e additano 375 Le vostre industriose scene e atti di morte. Le vostre regali presenze si lascino guidare da me. Fate come i ribelli di Gerusalemme: Siate amici per un poco, e insieme volgete entrambi Le vostre più acute opere di malizia su questa città. 380 Da oriente e da occidente Francia e Inghilterra montino I loro cannoni da breccia, carichi fino alla bocca, Finché i loro clamori che spaventano l’anima non abbiano abbattuto Le costole di selce di questa sprezzante città. Io tirerei senza posa su queste rozze, Fin che desolazione senza difesa Non le lasci nude come l’aria comune. Fatto ciò, disgiungete le vostre forze unite, E separate di nuovo i vostri colori mescolati; Volgetevi faccia a faccia, e sanguinosa punta a punta. Allora in un momento la Fortuna trarrà fuori Da una delle parti il suo felice favorito, A cui in grazia darà la giornata, E lo bacerà con una gloriosa vittoria. Come vi piace questo selvaggio consiglio, potenti stati? Non sa esso un poco di politica ?
RE GIOVANNI	Or, per il cielo che pende sopra i nostri capi, Mi piace bene.-Francia, uniremo le nostre forze, E raderemo questa Angers al suolo, E poi combatteremo per chi ne sarà re?
BASTARDO	(a Re Filippo) Se tu hai il temperamento d’un re, Essendo offeso come noi da questa città petulante, Volgi tu la bocca della tua artiglieria, Come noi la nostra, contro queste insolenti mura; E quando le avremo abbattute al suolo, Ebbene, allora sfidatevi l’un l’altro, e alla rinfusa Lavorate su noi stessi, per il cielo o per l’inferno.
RE FILIPPO	Così sia.-Dite, dove assalirete?
RE GIOVANNI	Noi da occidente manderemo distruzione Nel seno di questa città.
AUSTRIA	Io da settentrione.
RE FILIPPO	Il nostro tuono da mezzogiorno Farà piovere la sua tempesta di palle su questa città.
(didascalia)	BASTARDO a Re Giovanni
RE FILIPPO	Oh prudente disciplina! Da settentrione a mezzogiorno Austria e Francia si sparano l’una nella bocca dell’altra. Li spingerò a farlo. Venite, via, via!
(didascalia)	CITTADINO
RE FILIPPO	Uditeci, grandi Re, degnatevi di sostare un poco, E io vi mostrerò pace e lega di bel volto. Vincete questa città senza colpo né ferita; Salvate quelle vite spiranti perché muoiano nei letti, 420 Che qui vengono vittime per il campo. Non persistete, ma ascoltatemi, potenti Re.
RE GIOVANNI	Parla con favore; siamo disposti a udire.
(didascalia)	CITTADINO
RE GIOVANNI	Quella figlia là di Spagna, la Lady Bianca, È nipote all’Inghilterra. Guardate gli anni 425 Di Luigi il Delfino e di quella leggiadra fanciulla. Se il gagliardo amore andasse in cerca di bellezza, Dove la troverebbe più bella che in Bianca? Se lo zelante amore andasse in cerca di virtù, Dove la troverebbe più pura che in Bianca? 430 Se l’amore ambizioso cercasse un partito di nascita, Quali vene racchiudono sangue più ricco della Lady Bianca? Quale ella è in bellezza, virtù, nascita, Tale è il giovane Delfino in ogni modo compiuto; Se non compiuto, oh, dite che egli non è lei; 435 Ed ella pure non manca di nulla—a dire mancanza— Se non sia mancanza che ella non è lui. Egli è la metà d’un uomo beato, Lasciata a esser compiuta da una quale lei; Ed ella una bella eccellenza divisa, 440 La cui pienezza di perfezione sta in lui. Oh, due tali argentee correnti quando s’uniscono Glorificano le sponde che le racchiudono, E due tali rive a due tali fiumi fatti uno, Due tali confini che li governano, sarete voi, o Re, 445 A questi due principi se li maritate. Questa unione farà più di quanto possa la batteria Sulle nostre porte ben chiuse, ché a queste nozze, Con impeto più rapido di quanto la polvere possa imporre, La bocca del passaggio spalancheremo, 450 E vi daremo ingresso. Ma senza queste nozze Il mare infuriato non è metà così sordo, I leoni più fidenti, le montagne e le rocce Più immuni dal moto, no, né la Morte stessa In mortale furia metà così perentoria, 455 Quanto noi a tener questa città.
(didascalia)	BASTARDO a parte Ecco un puntello
RE GIOVANNI	Che scuote la putrida carcassa della vecchia Morte Fuor dai suoi cenci. Ecco davvero una gran bocca, Che sputa Morte e montagne, rocce e mari, Parla tanto familiarmente di leoni ruggenti 460 Quanto fanciulle di tredici anni di cagnolini. Quale cannoniere generò questo gagliardo sangue? Parla puro cannone: fuoco, e fumo, e rimbombo; Dà la bastonata con la lingua; I nostri orecchi son randellati; non una sua parola 465 Che non picchi meglio d’un pugno di Francia. Corpo di Dio! Non fui mai così pestato di parole Da quando chiamai per la prima volta Babbo il padre di mio fratello.
REGINA ELEONORA	(a parte, a Re Giovanni) Figlio, ascolta questa congiunzione, fa’ queste nozze, Da’ con nostra nipote una dote abbastanza larga; 470 Ché, con questo nodo, legherai sì sicuramente La tua ora incerta sicurezza alla corona Che quel verde ragazzo non avrà sole per maturare Il fiore che promette un potente frutto. Vedo un cedere negli sguardi di Francia; 475 Nota come sussurrano. Premili mentre le loro anime Son capaci di questa ambizione, Ché lo zelo, ora fuso dal ventoso soffio Di molli preghiere, pietà e rimorso, Non si raffreddi e congeli di nuovo in quel che era.
(didascalia)	CITTADINO
REGINA ELEONORA	Perché non rispondono le duplici maestà A questa amichevole proposta della nostra minacciata città?
RE FILIPPO	Parli prima l’Inghilterra, che prima s’è fatta avanti A parlare a questa città: che dite voi?
RE GIOVANNI	Se il Delfino là, tuo principesco figlio, 485 Può in questo libro di bellezza leggere ‘Io amo’, La sua dote peserà pari a quella d’una regina; Ché l’Anjou e la bella Touraine, il Maine, il Poitou, E tutto ciò che noi su questo lato del mare— Eccetto questa città ora da noi assediata—490 Troviamo soggetto alla nostra corona e dignità, Indorerà il suo letto nuziale, e la farà ricca Di titoli, onori e promozioni, Come ella in bellezza, educazione, sangue, Tien mano con qualsiasi principessa del mondo. 495
RE FILIPPO	Che dici tu, ragazzo? Guarda nel volto della dama.
LUIGI IL DELFINO	Lo faccio, mio signore, e nel suo occhio trovo Una meraviglia, o un meraviglioso miracolo, L’ombra di me stesso formata nel suo occhio; La quale, essendo solo l’ombra di vostro figlio, 500 Diviene un sole e fa di vostro figlio un’ombra. Io protesto che non amai mai me stesso Finché ora fisso non mi vidi Ritratto nella lusinghevole tavola del suo occhio. Sussurra con Bianca
BASTARDO	(a parte) Ritratto nella lusinghevole tavola del suo occhio, 505 Appeso nella corrugata ruga del suo ciglio, E squartato nel suo cuore: egli si scorge Traditore dell’amore. Or questo è peccato, Che appeso e strascinato e squartato là debba essere In un tale amore un sì vile zoticone come lui. 510
BIANCA	(a Luigi il Delfino) La volontà di mio zio in questo riguardo è la mia. Se egli vede in voi qualcosa che gli piaccia, Quel qualcosa che vede e che muove il suo gradire Io posso con facilità tradurlo nella mia volontà; O se volete, a dire più propriamente, Lo costringerò facilmente al mio amore. Più oltre non vi lusingherò, mio signore, Che tutto ciò che vedo in voi sia degno d’amore, Se non questo: che nulla vedo in voi, Anche se pensieri villani stessi fossero il vostro giudice, 520 Che io possa trovare meriti odio alcuno.
RE GIOVANNI	Che dicono questi giovani? Che dite voi, nipote mia?
BIANCA	Ch’ella è tenuta in onore a fare sempre Ciò che voi nella vostra saggezza vi degnerete di dire.
RE GIOVANNI	Parlate dunque, Principe Delfino, potete amare questa dama?
LUIGI IL DELFINO	No, chiedetemi se posso astenermi dall’amore, 526 Ché io l’amo senza alcuna finzione.
RE GIOVANNI	Allora io dono il Volquessen, la Touraine, il Maine, Il Poitou e l’Anjou, queste cinque province, Con lei a te, e quest’aggiunta ancora: 530 Ben trentamila marchi di moneta inglese. Filippo di Francia, se ti piace il tutto, Comanda a tuo figlio e a tua figlia di congiungere le mani.
RE FILIPPO	Ci piace bene.—Giovani principi, stringete le mani.
AUSTRIA	E anche le labbra, ché son ben certo 535 Ch’io così feci quando fui la prima volta fidanzato.
(didascalia)	Luigi il Delfino e la Lady Bianca congiungono le mani e si baciano
RE FILIPPO	Or cittadini d’Angers, aprite le vostre porte. Fate entrare quell’amicizia che avete fatto, Ché nella cappella di Santa Maria all’istante I riti del matrimonio saranno solennizzati.—540 Non è la Lady Costanza in questa schiera? (A parte) So che non c’è, ché queste nozze concluse La sua presenza avrebbe molto interrotto. (Ad alta voce) Dov’è ella e suo figlio ? Me lo dica chi lo sa.
LUIGI IL DELFINO	È mesta e appassionata alla tenda di vostra altezza. 545
RE FILIPPO	E per la mia fede questa lega che abbiamo fatto Darà alla sua tristezza ben poca cura.— Fratello d’Inghilterra, come possiamo contentare Questa dama vedova? Nel suo diritto venimmo, Il quale noi, Dio sa, abbiamo volto altrove 550 A nostro proprio vantaggio.
RE GIOVANNI	Sanaremo tutto, Ché creeremo il giovane Arturo Duca di Bretagna E Conte di Richmond, e di questa ricca bella città Lo faremo signore. Chiamate la Lady Costanza. Qualche celere messaggero le dica di recarsi Alla nostra solennità. Confido che, se non Colmeremo la misura della sua volontà, Pure in qualche misura la soddisferemo tanto Che fermeremo le sue esclamazioni. Andiamo tanto bene quanto la fretta ci permetterà 560 A questa inattesa, impreparata pompa.
(didascalia)	Squilli di trombe. Escono tutti tranne il Bastardo
BASTARDO	Mondo pazzo, re pazzi, pazzo accordo! Giovanni, per fermare il titolo d’Arturo nel tutto, S’è volentieri privato d’una parte; E la Francia, la cui armatura la coscienza allacciò, Che zelo e carità condussero in campo 566 Come soldato di Dio stesso, s’è fatta sussurrare all’orecchio Da quel medesimo mutatore di propositi, quel diavolo astuto, Quel mezzano che sempre rompe il capo alla fede, Quel quotidiano rompi-voti, colui che vince su tutti, 570 Sui re, sui mendicanti, sui vecchi, sui giovani, sulle vergini,— Le quali non avendo cosa esterna da perdere Se non la parola ‘vergine’, defrauda la povera vergine di quella— Quel gentiluomo dal viso liscio, l’adescante interesse; L’interesse, la piega del mondo, 575 Il mondo che di per sé è bilanciato bene, Fatto per correre pari su terreno pari, Finché questo vantaggio, questa vile piega attrattiva, Questa deviazione del moto, questo interesse, Non lo faccia deviare da ogni imparzialità, 580 Da ogni direzione, proposito, corso, intento; E questa medesima piega, questo interesse, Questo ruffiano, questo mezzano, questa parola che tutto cambia, Applicata all’occhio esterno della volubile Francia, L’ha tratta dal suo proprio deciso soccorso, 585 Da una risoluta e onorevole guerra, A una vilissima e bassamente conclusa pace. E perché inveisco contro questo interesse? Se non perché non ha ancora corteggiato me— Non che io abbia il potere di serrare la mano 590 Quando i suoi bei angeli volessero salutare il mio palmo, Ma perché la mia mano, ancora non tentata, Come povero mendicante inveisce contro i ricchi. Bene, mentre sono mendicante inveirò, E dirò che non v’è peccato se non l’esser ricco, 595 E quando sarò ricco, la mia virtù sarà allora Dire che non v’è vizio se non la mendicità. Poiché i re rompono la fede per interesse, Guadagno, sii tu mio signore, ché io t’adorerò. Esce

Speaker	Line
(didascalia)	Enter Lady Constance, Arthur Duke of Brittaine, and the Earl of Salisbury
CONSTANCE	(to Salisbury) Gone to be married? Gone to swear a peace? False blood to false blood joined! Gone to be friends? Shall Louis have Blanche, and Blanche those provinces? It is not so, thou hast misspoke, misheard. Be well advised, tell o‘er thy tale again. It cannot be, thou dost but say ’tis so. 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. 10 Thou shalt be punished for thus frighting me; For I am sick and capable of fears; Oppressed with wrongs, and therefore full of fears; A widow husbandless, subject to fears; A woman naturally born to fears; 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.
(didascalia)	She sits upon the ground
CONSTANCE	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.
(didascalia)	Exeunt Salisbury and Arthur
(didascalia)	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. Arm, arm, you heavens, against these perjured Kings! A widow cries, be husband to me, God! Let not the hours of this ungodly day 35 Wear out the day in peace, but ere sun set Set armed discord ’twixt these perjured Kings. Hear me, O hear me!
AUSTRIA	Lady Constance, peace.
CONSTANCE	War, war, no peace! Peace is to me a war. O Limoges, O Austria, thou dost shame 40 That bloody spoil. Thou slave, thou wretch, thou coward! Thou little valiant, great in villainy; Thou ever strong upon the stronger side; Thou Fortune’s champion, that dost never fight But when her humorous ladyship is by 45 To teach thee safety. Thou art perjured too, And sooth‘st up greatness. What a fool art thou, A ramping fool, to brag and stamp, and swear Upon my party! Thou cold-blooded slave, Hast thou not spoke like thunder on my side, 50 Been sworn my soldier, bidding me depend Upon thy stars, thy fortune, and thy strength? And dost thou now fall over to my foes? Thou wear a lion’s hide! Doff it, for shame, And hang a calf’s-skin on those recreant limbs. 55
AUSTRIA	O, that a man should speak those words to me!
BASTARD	And hang a calf’s-skin on those recreant limbs.
AUSTRIA	Thou dar’st not say so, villain, for thy life.
BASTARD	And hang a calf’s-skin on those recreant limbs.
KING JOHN	(to the Bastard) We like not this. Thou dost forget thyself. 60
(didascalia)	Enter Cardinal Pandolf
KING PHILIP	Here comes the holy legate of the Pope.
PANDOLF	Hail, you anointed deputies of God.— To thee, King John, my holy errand is. I Pandolf, of fair Milan Cardinal, And from Pope Innocent the legate here, 65 Do in his name religiously demand Why thou against the Church, our Holy Mother, So wilfully dost spurn, and force perforce Keep Stephen Langton, chosen Archbishop Of Canterbury, from that holy see. 70 This, in our foresaid Holy Father’s name, Pope Innocent, I do demand of thee.
KING JOHN	What earthy name to interrogatories Can task the free breath of a sacred king? Thou canst not, Cardinal, devise a name 75 So slight, unworthy, and ridiculous To charge me to an answer, as the Pope. Tell him this tale, and from the mouth of England Add thus much more: that no Italian priest Shall tithe or toll in our dominions; 80 But as we, under God, are supreme head, So, under him, that great supremacy Where we do reign we will alone uphold Without th’assistance of a mortal hand. So tell the Pope, all reverence set apart To him and his usurped authority.
KING PHILIP	Brother of England, you blaspheme in this.
KING JOHN	Though you and all the kings of Christendom Are led so grossly by this meddling priest, Dreading the curse that money may buy out, 90 And by the merit of vile gold, dross, dust, Purchase corrupted pardon of a man, Who in that sale sells pardon from himself; Though you and all the rest so grossly led This juggling witchcraft with revenue cherish; 95 Yet I alone, alone do me oppose Against the Pope, and count his friends my foes.
PANDOLF	Then by the lawful power that I have Thou shalt stand cursed and excommunicate; And blessed shall he be that doth revolt 100 From his allegiance to an heretic; And meritorious shall that hand be called, Canonized and worshipped as a saint, That takes away by any secret course Thy hateful life.
CONSTANCE	O lawful let it be 105 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.
PANDOLF	There’s law and warrant, lady, for my curse. 110
CONSTANCE	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?
PANDOLF	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. 120
QUEEN ELEANOR	Look’st thou pale, France? Do not let go thy hand.
(didascalia)	CONSTANCE to King John
QUEEN ELEANOR	Look to it, devil, lest that France repent, And by disjoining hands hell lose a soul.
AUSTRIA	King Philip, listen to the Cardinal.
BASTARD	And hang a calf’s-skin on his recreant limbs. 125
AUSTRIA	Well, ruffian, I must pocket up these wrongs, Because—
BASTARD	Your breeches best may carry them.
KING JOHN	Philip, what sayst thou to the Cardinal?
CONSTANCE	What should he say, but as the Cardinal?
LOUIS THE DAUPHIN	Bethink you, Father, for the difference 130 Is purchase of a heavy curse from Rome, Or the light loss of England for a friend. Forgo the easier.
BLANCHE	That’s the curse of Rome.
CONSTANCE	O Louis, stand fast; the devil tempts thee here In likeness of a new untrimmèd bride. 135
BLANCHE	The Lady Constance speaks not from her faith, But from her need.
(didascalia)	CONSTANCE to King Philip O if thou grant my need,
BLANCHE	Which only lives but by the death of faith, That need must needs infer this principle: That faith would live again by death of need. 140 O, then tread down my need, and faith mounts up; Keep my need up, and faith is trodden down.
KING JOHN	The King is moved, and answers not to this.
CONSTANCE	(to King Philip) O, be removed from him, and answer well.
AUSTRIA	Do so, King Philip, hang no more in doubt. 145
BASTARD	Hang nothing but a calf’s-skin, most sweet lout.
KING PHILIP	I am perplexed, and know not what to say.
PANDOLF	What canst thou say but will perplex thee more, If thou stand excommunicate and cursed?
KING PHILIP	Good Reverend Father, make my person yours, 150 And tell me how you would bestow yourself. This royal hand and mine are newly knit, And the conjunction of our inward souls Married in league, coupled and linked together With all religious strength of sacred vows; 155 The latest breath that gave the sound of words Was deep-sworn faith, peace, amity, true love, Between our kingdoms and our royal selves; And even before this truce, but new before, No longer than we well could wash our hands 160 To clap this royal bargain up of peace, God knows, they were besmeared and over-stained With slaughter’s pencil, where Revenge did paint The fearful difference of incensed kings; And shall these hands, so lately purged of blood, 165 So newly joined in love, so strong in both, Unyoke this seizure and this kind regreet, Play fast and loose with faith, so jest with heaven, Make such unconstant children of ourselves, As now again to snatch our palm from palm, 170 Unswear faith sworn, and on the marriage-bed Of smiling peace to march a bloody host, And make a riot on the gentle brow Of true sincerity? O holy sir, My Reverend Father, let it not be so. 175 Out of your grace, devise, ordain, impose Some gentle order, and then we shall be blessed To do your pleasure and continue friends.
PANDOLF	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 mayst hold a serpent by the tongue, A crazed lion by the mortal paw, 185 A fasting tiger safer by the tooth, Than keep in peace that hand which thou dost hold.
KING PHILIP	I may disjoin my hand, but not my faith.
PANDOLF	So mak‘st thou faith an enemy to faith, And like a civil war, sett’st oath to oath, 190 Thy tongue against thy tongue. O, let thy vow, First made to heaven, first be to heaven performed; That is, to be the champion of our Church. What since thou swor‘st is sworn against thyself, And may not be performèd by thyself; 195 For that which thou hast sworn to do amiss Is not amiss when it is truly done; And being not done where doing tends to ill, The truth is then most done not doing it. The better act of purposes mistook 200 Is to mistake again; though indirect, Yet indirection thereby grows direct, And falsehood falsehood cures, as fire cools fire
(didascalia)	Within the scorchèd veins of one new burned.
PANDOLF	It is religion that doth make vows kept; But thou hast sworn against religion; By what thou swear’st, against the thing thou swear‘st; And mak’st an oath the surety for thy troth: Against an oath, the truth. Thou art unsure To swear: swear’st only not to be forsworn—210 Else what a mockery should it be to swear!— But thou dost swear only to be forsworn, And most forsworn to keep what thou dost swear; Therefore thy later vows against thy first Is in thyself rebellion to thyself, 215 And better conquest never canst thou make Than arm thy constant and thy nobler parts Against these giddy loose suggestions; Upon which better part our prayers come in If thou vouchsafe them. But if not, then know 220 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.
AUSTRIA	Rebellion, flat rebellion!
BASTARD	Wilt not be? Will not a calf’s-skin stop that mouth of thine? 225
LOUIS THE DAUPHIN	Father, to arms!
BLANCHE	Upon thy wedding day? Against the blood that thou hast married ? What, shall our feast be kept with slaughtered men? Shall braying trumpets and loud churlish drums, Clamours of hell, be measures to our pomp? 230 She kneels O husband, hear me ! Ay, alack, how new Is ‘husband’ in my mouth! 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.
CONSTANCE	(kneeling) O, upon my knee 235 Made hard with kneeling, I do pray to thee, Thou virtuous Dauphin, alter not the doom Forethought by heaven.
BLANCHE	(to Louis the Dauphin) Now shall I see thy love: what motive may Be stronger with thee than the name of wife? 240
CONSTANCE	That which upholdeth him that thee upholds: His honour.—O thine honour, Louis, thine honour!
LOUIS THE DAUPHIN	(to King Philip) I muse your majesty doth seem so cold When such profound respects do pull you on.
PANDOLF	I will denounce a curse upon his head. 245
KING PHILIP	Thou shalt not need.—England, I will fall from thee.
(didascalia)	He takes his hand from King John’s hand. Blanche and Constance rise
CONSTANCE	O, fair return of banished majesty!
QUEEN ELEANOR	O, foul revolt of French inconstancy I
KING JOHN	France, thou shalt rue this hour within this hour.
BASTARD	Old Time the clock-setter, that bald sexton Time, 250 Is it as he will?—Well then, France shall rue.
BLANCHE	The sun’s o’ercast with blood; fair day, adieu! Which is the side that I must go withal? I am with both, each army hath a hand, And in their rage, I having hold of both, 255 They whirl asunder and dismember me. Husband, I cannot pray that thou mayst win.— Uncle, I needs must pray that thou mayst lose.— Father, I may not wish the fortune thine.— Grandam, I will not wish thy wishes thrive. Whoever wins, on that side shall I lose, Assured loss before the match be played.
LOUIS THE DAUPHIN	Lady, with me, with me thy fortune lies.
BLANCHE	There where my fortune lives, there my life dies.
KING JOHN	(to the Bastard) Cousin, go draw our puissance together.—
(didascalia)	Exit the Bastard
KING JOHN	France, I am burned up with inflaming wrath, A rage whose heat hath this condition: That nothing can allay, nothing but blood, The blood, and dearest-valued blood, of France.
KING PHILIP	Thy rage shall burn thee up, and thou shalt turn 270 To ashes ere our blood shall quench that fire. Look to thyself, thou art in jeopardy.
KING JOHN	No more than he that threats.—To arms let’s hie!
(didascalia)	Exeunt severally

Chi parla	Battuta
(didascalia)	Entrano Lady Costanza, Arturo Duca di Bretagna, e il Conte di Salisbury
CONSTANCE	(a Salisbury) Andati a sposarsi? Andati a giurare una pace? Sangue falso a sangue falso congiunto! Andati a farsi amici? Avrà Luigi Bianca, e Bianca quelle province? Non è così, tu hai parlato male, udito male. Consigliati bene, ridimmi da capo il tuo racconto. Non può essere; tu dici soltanto che è così. Confido di non poterti credere, ché la tua parola non è che il vano fiato d’un uomo comune. Credimi, io non ti credo, uomo; ho il giuramento d’un re in contrario. 10 Sarai punito per avermi così spaventata; ché io sono malata e disposta ai timori; oppressa da torti, e perciò piena di timori; vedova senza marito, soggetta ai timori; donna, per natura nata ai timori; e anche se ora confessassi che scherzavi soltanto, coi miei spiriti sconvolti non posso far tregua, ma essi tremeranno e fremeranno tutto questo giorno. Che vuoi dire scuotendo così il capo? Perché guardi con tanta tristezza mio figlio? 20 Che significa quella mano sopra codesto tuo petto? Perché il tuo occhio trattiene quell’umore lamentevole, come un fiume superbo che trabocca dai suoi argini? Sono questi tristi segni conferma delle tue parole? Parla dunque ancora—non tutto il racconto di prima, ma questa sola parola: se il tuo racconto sia vero.
SALISBURY	Vero quanto io credo che voi crediate falsi coloro che vi danno motivo di provar vero il mio dire.
CONSTANCE	Oh, se m’insegni a credere a questo dolore, insegna a questo dolore come farmi morire; e s’incontrino così la fede e la vita come fa la furia di due uomini disperati che nell’urto stesso cadono e muoiono. Luigi sposare Bianca! (Ad Arturo) Oh figlio, e allora dove sei tu? La Francia amica dell’Inghilterra!—Che sarà di me? (A Salisbury) Uomo, vattene, non posso sopportare la tua vista; 36 questa notizia t’ha fatto uomo bruttissimo.
SALISBURY	Qual altro male ho fatto io, buona signora, se non riferito il male che da altri è stato fatto?
CONSTANCE	Male che in se stesso è tanto atroce 40 da render nocivi tutti coloro che ne parlano.
ARTHUR	Vi supplico, madre, datevi pace.
CONSTANCE	Se tu, che m’inviti a darmi pace, fossi torvo, brutto e vergogna al grembo di tua madre, pieno di sgradevoli macule e di brutte macchie, zoppo, sciocco, storto, bruno, mostruoso, chiazzato di nei sozzi e di segni che offendono l’occhio, non me ne curerei, allora sarei contenta, ché allora non ti amerei, no, né tu onoreresti la tua alta nascita, né meriteresti una corona. Ma tu sei bello, e alla tua nascita, caro figlio, Natura e Fortuna s’unirono a farti grande. Dei doni di Natura puoi vantarti coi gigli, e con la rosa mezzo schiusa. Ma la Fortuna, oh, essa è corrotta, mutata, e sottratta a te; ogni ora si prostituisce con tuo zio Giovanni, e con la sua mano d’oro ha tirato la Francia a calpestare il giusto rispetto della sovranità, e ha fatto della sua maestà la ruffiana della loro. La Francia è ruffiana della Fortuna e di Re Giovanni, quella baldracca della Fortuna, quell’usurpatore di Giovanni. (A Salisbury) Dimmi, uomo, non è la Francia spergiura? Avvelenalo con le parole, o vattene e lascia sole queste sventure, che io sola son tenuta a sopportare.
SALISBURY	Perdonatemi, signora, non posso andare dai Re senza di voi.
CONSTANCE	Puoi, e devi; io non verrò con te. Istruirò i miei dolori a esser superbi, ché il dolore è superbo e fa piegare chi lo possiede.
(didascalia)	Si siede a terra
CONSTANCE	A me e allo stato del mio gran dolore 70 s’aduni pure il consesso dei re, ché il mio dolore è così grande che nessun sostegno se non l’immensa terra salda può reggerlo. Qui siedo io e i dolori; qui è il mio trono; dite ai re di venire a inchinarvisi.
(didascalia)	Escono Salisbury e Arturo

Speaker	Line
(didascalia)	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. Arm, arm, you heavens, against these perjured Kings! A widow cries, be husband to me, God! Let not the hours of this ungodly day 35 Wear out the day in peace, but ere sun set Set armed discord ’twixt these perjured Kings. Hear me, O hear me!
AUSTRIA	Lady Constance, peace.
CONSTANCE	War, war, no peace! Peace is to me a war. O Limoges, O Austria, thou dost shame 40 That bloody spoil. Thou slave, thou wretch, thou coward! Thou little valiant, great in villainy; Thou ever strong upon the stronger side; Thou Fortune’s champion, that dost never fight But when her humorous ladyship is by 45 To teach thee safety. Thou art perjured too, And sooth‘st up greatness. What a fool art thou, A ramping fool, to brag and stamp, and swear Upon my party! Thou cold-blooded slave, Hast thou not spoke like thunder on my side, 50 Been sworn my soldier, bidding me depend Upon thy stars, thy fortune, and thy strength? And dost thou now fall over to my foes? Thou wear a lion’s hide! Doff it, for shame, And hang a calf’s-skin on those recreant limbs. 55
AUSTRIA	O, that a man should speak those words to me!
BASTARD	And hang a calf’s-skin on those recreant limbs.
AUSTRIA	Thou dar’st not say so, villain, for thy life.
BASTARD	And hang a calf’s-skin on those recreant limbs.
KING JOHN	(to the Bastard) We like not this. Thou dost forget thyself. 60
(didascalia)	Enter Cardinal Pandolf
KING PHILIP	Here comes the holy legate of the Pope.
PANDOLF	Hail, you anointed deputies of God.— To thee, King John, my holy errand is. I Pandolf, of fair Milan Cardinal, And from Pope Innocent the legate here, 65 Do in his name religiously demand Why thou against the Church, our Holy Mother, So wilfully dost spurn, and force perforce Keep Stephen Langton, chosen Archbishop Of Canterbury, from that holy see. 70 This, in our foresaid Holy Father’s name, Pope Innocent, I do demand of thee.
KING JOHN	What earthy name to interrogatories Can task the free breath of a sacred king? Thou canst not, Cardinal, devise a name 75 So slight, unworthy, and ridiculous To charge me to an answer, as the Pope. Tell him this tale, and from the mouth of England Add thus much more: that no Italian priest Shall tithe or toll in our dominions; 80 But as we, under God, are supreme head, So, under him, that great supremacy Where we do reign we will alone uphold Without th’assistance of a mortal hand. So tell the Pope, all reverence set apart To him and his usurped authority.
KING PHILIP	Brother of England, you blaspheme in this.
KING JOHN	Though you and all the kings of Christendom Are led so grossly by this meddling priest, Dreading the curse that money may buy out, 90 And by the merit of vile gold, dross, dust, Purchase corrupted pardon of a man, Who in that sale sells pardon from himself; Though you and all the rest so grossly led This juggling witchcraft with revenue cherish; 95 Yet I alone, alone do me oppose Against the Pope, and count his friends my foes.
PANDOLF	Then by the lawful power that I have Thou shalt stand cursed and excommunicate; And blessed shall he be that doth revolt 100 From his allegiance to an heretic; And meritorious shall that hand be called, Canonized and worshipped as a saint, That takes away by any secret course Thy hateful life.
CONSTANCE	O lawful let it be 105 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.
PANDOLF	There’s law and warrant, lady, for my curse. 110
CONSTANCE	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?
PANDOLF	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. 120
QUEEN ELEANOR	Look’st thou pale, France? Do not let go thy hand.
(didascalia)	CONSTANCE to King John
QUEEN ELEANOR	Look to it, devil, lest that France repent, And by disjoining hands hell lose a soul.
AUSTRIA	King Philip, listen to the Cardinal.
BASTARD	And hang a calf’s-skin on his recreant limbs. 125
AUSTRIA	Well, ruffian, I must pocket up these wrongs, Because—
BASTARD	Your breeches best may carry them.
KING JOHN	Philip, what sayst thou to the Cardinal?
CONSTANCE	What should he say, but as the Cardinal?
LOUIS THE DAUPHIN	Bethink you, Father, for the difference 130 Is purchase of a heavy curse from Rome, Or the light loss of England for a friend. Forgo the easier.
BLANCHE	That’s the curse of Rome.
CONSTANCE	O Louis, stand fast; the devil tempts thee here In likeness of a new untrimmèd bride. 135
BLANCHE	The Lady Constance speaks not from her faith, But from her need.
(didascalia)	CONSTANCE to King Philip O if thou grant my need,
BLANCHE	Which only lives but by the death of faith, That need must needs infer this principle: That faith would live again by death of need. 140 O, then tread down my need, and faith mounts up; Keep my need up, and faith is trodden down.
KING JOHN	The King is moved, and answers not to this.
CONSTANCE	(to King Philip) O, be removed from him, and answer well.
AUSTRIA	Do so, King Philip, hang no more in doubt. 145
BASTARD	Hang nothing but a calf’s-skin, most sweet lout.
KING PHILIP	I am perplexed, and know not what to say.
PANDOLF	What canst thou say but will perplex thee more, If thou stand excommunicate and cursed?
KING PHILIP	Good Reverend Father, make my person yours, 150 And tell me how you would bestow yourself. This royal hand and mine are newly knit, And the conjunction of our inward souls Married in league, coupled and linked together With all religious strength of sacred vows; 155 The latest breath that gave the sound of words Was deep-sworn faith, peace, amity, true love, Between our kingdoms and our royal selves; And even before this truce, but new before, No longer than we well could wash our hands 160 To clap this royal bargain up of peace, God knows, they were besmeared and over-stained With slaughter’s pencil, where Revenge did paint The fearful difference of incensed kings; And shall these hands, so lately purged of blood, 165 So newly joined in love, so strong in both, Unyoke this seizure and this kind regreet, Play fast and loose with faith, so jest with heaven, Make such unconstant children of ourselves, As now again to snatch our palm from palm, 170 Unswear faith sworn, and on the marriage-bed Of smiling peace to march a bloody host, And make a riot on the gentle brow Of true sincerity? O holy sir, My Reverend Father, let it not be so. 175 Out of your grace, devise, ordain, impose Some gentle order, and then we shall be blessed To do your pleasure and continue friends.
PANDOLF	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 mayst hold a serpent by the tongue, A crazed lion by the mortal paw, 185 A fasting tiger safer by the tooth, Than keep in peace that hand which thou dost hold.
KING PHILIP	I may disjoin my hand, but not my faith.
PANDOLF	So mak‘st thou faith an enemy to faith, And like a civil war, sett’st oath to oath, 190 Thy tongue against thy tongue. O, let thy vow, First made to heaven, first be to heaven performed; That is, to be the champion of our Church. What since thou swor‘st is sworn against thyself, And may not be performèd by thyself; 195 For that which thou hast sworn to do amiss Is not amiss when it is truly done; And being not done where doing tends to ill, The truth is then most done not doing it. The better act of purposes mistook 200 Is to mistake again; though indirect, Yet indirection thereby grows direct, And falsehood falsehood cures, as fire cools fire
(didascalia)	Within the scorchèd veins of one new burned.
PANDOLF	It is religion that doth make vows kept; But thou hast sworn against religion; By what thou swear’st, against the thing thou swear‘st; And mak’st an oath the surety for thy troth: Against an oath, the truth. Thou art unsure To swear: swear’st only not to be forsworn—210 Else what a mockery should it be to swear!— But thou dost swear only to be forsworn, And most forsworn to keep what thou dost swear; Therefore thy later vows against thy first Is in thyself rebellion to thyself, 215 And better conquest never canst thou make Than arm thy constant and thy nobler parts Against these giddy loose suggestions; Upon which better part our prayers come in If thou vouchsafe them. But if not, then know 220 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.
AUSTRIA	Rebellion, flat rebellion!
BASTARD	Wilt not be? Will not a calf’s-skin stop that mouth of thine? 225
LOUIS THE DAUPHIN	Father, to arms!
BLANCHE	Upon thy wedding day? Against the blood that thou hast married ? What, shall our feast be kept with slaughtered men? Shall braying trumpets and loud churlish drums, Clamours of hell, be measures to our pomp? 230 She kneels O husband, hear me ! Ay, alack, how new Is ‘husband’ in my mouth! 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.
CONSTANCE	(kneeling) O, upon my knee 235 Made hard with kneeling, I do pray to thee, Thou virtuous Dauphin, alter not the doom Forethought by heaven.
BLANCHE	(to Louis the Dauphin) Now shall I see thy love: what motive may Be stronger with thee than the name of wife? 240
CONSTANCE	That which upholdeth him that thee upholds: His honour.—O thine honour, Louis, thine honour!
LOUIS THE DAUPHIN	(to King Philip) I muse your majesty doth seem so cold When such profound respects do pull you on.
PANDOLF	I will denounce a curse upon his head. 245
KING PHILIP	Thou shalt not need.—England, I will fall from thee.
(didascalia)	He takes his hand from King John’s hand. Blanche and Constance rise
CONSTANCE	O, fair return of banished majesty!
QUEEN ELEANOR	O, foul revolt of French inconstancy I
KING JOHN	France, thou shalt rue this hour within this hour.
BASTARD	Old Time the clock-setter, that bald sexton Time, 250 Is it as he will?—Well then, France shall rue.
BLANCHE	The sun’s o’ercast with blood; fair day, adieu! Which is the side that I must go withal? I am with both, each army hath a hand, And in their rage, I having hold of both, 255 They whirl asunder and dismember me. Husband, I cannot pray that thou mayst win.— Uncle, I needs must pray that thou mayst lose.— Father, I may not wish the fortune thine.— Grandam, I will not wish thy wishes thrive. Whoever wins, on that side shall I lose, Assured loss before the match be played.
LOUIS THE DAUPHIN	Lady, with me, with me thy fortune lies.
BLANCHE	There where my fortune lives, there my life dies.
KING JOHN	(to the Bastard) Cousin, go draw our puissance together.—
(didascalia)	Exit the Bastard
KING JOHN	France, I am burned up with inflaming wrath, A rage whose heat hath this condition: That nothing can allay, nothing but blood, The blood, and dearest-valued blood, of France.
KING PHILIP	Thy rage shall burn thee up, and thou shalt turn 270 To ashes ere our blood shall quench that fire. Look to thyself, thou art in jeopardy.
KING JOHN	No more than he that threats.—To arms let’s hie!
(didascalia)	Exeunt severally

Chi parla	Battuta
(didascalia)	Squilli di trombe. Entrano Re Giovanni e Re Filippo mano nella mano; Luigi il Delfino e Lady Bianca, sposi; la Regina Eleonora, il Bastardo, e il Duca d’Austria
RE FILIPPO	(a Bianca) È vero, bella figlia, e questo giorno benedetto sarà per sempre in Francia tenuto per festa. Per solennizzare questo giorno, il glorioso sole si arresta nel suo corso e fa da alchimista, mutando con lo splendore del suo occhio prezioso 5 la magra terra zollosa in oro scintillante. Il corso dell’anno che riporta questo giorno non lo vedrà mai se non come un giorno santo.
CONSTANCE	(levandosi) Un giorno malvagio, e non un giorno santo! Che cosa ha meritato questo giorno? Che cosa ha fatto, perché in lettere d’oro debba esser posto fra le feste maggiori del calendario? Anzi, si cacci piuttosto questo giorno fuori dalla settimana, questo giorno di vergogna, d’oppressione, di spergiuro. O, se pur deve restare, preghino le donne gravide di figlio 15 che il loro peso non cada in questo giorno, perché le loro speranze non siano mostruosamente deluse; ma in questo giorno i marinai non temano naufragio; nessun patto si rompa, se non fatto in questo giorno; tutte le cose in questo giorno incominciate finiscano male, 20 anzi, la fede stessa si muti in vuota menzogna.
RE FILIPPO	Per il cielo, signora, non avrete motivo di maledire il bel procedere di questo giorno. Non v’ho forse impegnato la mia maestà?
CONSTANCE	Voi m’avete ingannata con una contraffazione 25 che somiglia a maestà, la quale, toccata e saggiata, si rivela senza valore. Siete spergiuro, spergiuro. Veniste in armi a spargere il sangue dei miei nemici, ma ora in armi lo rinsaldate col vostro. Il vigore che afferra e l’aspro cipiglio della guerra 30 si sono raffreddati in amicizia e in pace dipinta, e la nostra oppressione ha stretto questa lega. Armatevi, armatevi, o cieli, contro questi Re spergiuri! Una vedova grida: fammi tu da marito, o Dio! Non lascino le ore di questo giorno empio 35 consumarsi il giorno in pace, ma prima del tramonto pongano armata discordia fra questi Re spergiuri. Ascoltatemi, oh ascoltatemi!
AUSTRIA	Lady Costanza, pace.
CONSTANCE	Guerra, guerra, non pace! La pace è per me una guerra. O Limoges, o Austria, tu fai vergogna 40 a quella spoglia insanguinata. Tu servo, tu vile, tu codardo! Tu piccolo in valore, grande in scelleratezza; tu sempre forte dalla parte del più forte; tu campione della Fortuna, che non combatti mai se non quando la sua capricciosa signoria è presente 45 a insegnarti la sicurezza. Anche tu sei spergiuro, e blandisci la grandezza. Che sciocco sei tu, uno sciocco fanfarone, a spavaldeggiare e pestare i piedi e giurare dalla mia parte! Tu servo dal sangue freddo, non hai tu parlato come il tuono a mio favore, 50 non ti sei giurato mio soldato, invitandomi a fare affidamento sulle tue stelle, sulla tua fortuna e sulla tua forza? E ora passi ai miei nemici? Tu portare una pelle di leone! Levatela, per vergogna, e appendi una pelle di vitello a quelle membra codarde. 55
AUSTRIA	Oh, che un uomo debba dirmi tali parole!
BASTARDO	E appendi una pelle di vitello a quelle membra codarde.
AUSTRIA	Non osi dirlo, furfante, sulla tua vita.
BASTARDO	E appendi una pelle di vitello a quelle membra codarde.
RE GIOVANNI	(al Bastardo) Questo non ci piace. Tu dimentichi te stesso. 60
(didascalia)	Entra il Cardinale Pandolfo
RE FILIPPO	Ecco che viene il santo legato del Papa.
PANDOLFO	Salve, voi unti vicari di Dio.— A te, Re Giovanni, è diretta la mia santa ambasciata. Io Pandolfo, Cardinale della bella Milano, e qui legato di Papa Innocenzo, 65 in suo nome religiosamente domando perché tu contro la Chiesa, nostra Santa Madre, ti ribelli così ostinatamente, e a viva forza tenga Stephen Langton, eletto Arcivescovo di Canterbury, lontano da quella santa sede. 70 Questo, nel nome del predetto nostro Santo Padre, Papa Innocenzo, io domando a te.
RE GIOVANNI	Quale nome terreno può con interrogatori chiamare a rispondere il libero fiato d’un sacro re? Tu non puoi, Cardinale, escogitare un nome 75 tanto meschino, indegno e ridicolo da costringermi a una risposta, quanto quello del Papa. Riferiscigli questo discorso, e dalla bocca dell’Inghilterra aggiungi ancora questo: che nessun prete italiano riscuoterà decime o pedaggi nei nostri domini; 80 ma come noi, sotto Dio, siamo capo supremo, così, sotto di lui, quella grande supremazia là dove regniamo la sosterremo noi soli senza l’assistenza di mano mortale. Così di’ al Papa, messa da parte ogni riverenza verso di lui e la sua usurpata autorità.
RE FILIPPO	Fratello d’Inghilterra, in questo voi bestemmiate.
RE GIOVANNI	Benché voi e tutti i re della cristianità siate condotti così grossolanamente da questo prete intrigante, temendo la maledizione che il denaro può riscattare, 90 e col merito di vile oro, scoria, polvere, compriate il corrotto perdono di un uomo, che in quella vendita vende perdono da se stesso; benché voi e tutti gli altri, così grossolanamente guidati, alimentiate di rendite questa ciarlatana stregoneria; 95 pure io solo, solo mi oppongo contro il Papa, e tengo i suoi amici per miei nemici.
PANDOLFO	Allora, per il legittimo potere che ho, tu resterai maledetto e scomunicato; e benedetto sarà colui che si ribella 100 alla sua fedeltà verso un eretico; e meritoria sarà chiamata quella mano, canonizzata e venerata come una santa, che con una qualsiasi via segreta ti tolga l’odiosa vita.
CONSTANCE	Oh, sia lecito 105 che io abbia licenza con Roma di maledire un poco. Buon Padre Cardinale, grida tu «Amen» alle mie acute maledizioni, ché senza il torto ch’io soffro non v’è lingua che abbia il potere di maledirlo a dovere.
PANDOLFO	V’è legge e mandato, signora, per la mia maledizione. 110
CONSTANCE	E anche per la mia. Quando la legge non può far ragione, sia lecito che la legge non vieti alcun torto. La legge non può dare al mio figlio il suo regno, ché chi tiene il suo regno tiene la legge. Perciò, poiché la legge stessa è perfetto torto, come può la legge vietare alla mia lingua di maledire?
PANDOLFO	Filippo di Francia, a rischio d’una maledizione, lascia la mano di quell’arcieretico, e leva le forze di Francia sul suo capo, a meno ch’egli non si sottometta a Roma. 120
REGINA ELEONORA	Impallidisci, Francia? Non lasciar la sua mano.
(didascalia)	COSTANZA a Re Giovanni
REGINA ELEONORA	Bada, demonio, che la Francia non si penta, e che, sciogliendo le mani, l’inferno non perda un’anima.
AUSTRIA	Re Filippo, date ascolto al Cardinale.
BASTARDO	E appendete una pelle di vitello a quelle sue membra codarde. 125
AUSTRIA	Bene, briccone, dovrò intascarmi questi torti, perché—
BASTARDO	Le vostre brache li porteranno meglio.
RE GIOVANNI	Filippo, che dite voi al Cardinale?
CONSTANCE	Che dovrebbe dire, se non come il Cardinale?
LUIGI IL DELFINO	Riflettete, padre, ché la scelta 130 è fra l’acquisto d’una grave maledizione da Roma, o la lieve perdita dell’Inghilterra come amica. Rinunciate alla più facile.
BIANCA	E questa è la maledizione di Roma.
CONSTANCE	O Luigi, tieni fermo; qui il diavolo ti tenta sotto l’aspetto d’una sposa novella e non ancora adorna. 135
BIANCA	Lady Costanza non parla per la sua fede, ma per il suo bisogno.
(didascalia)	COSTANZA a Re Filippo Oh, se tu concedi il mio bisogno,
BIANCA	il quale vive soltanto per la morte della fede, quel bisogno deve necessariamente inferire questo principio: che la fede rivivrebbe per la morte del bisogno. 140 Oh, calpestate dunque il mio bisogno, e la fede si leva; tenete su il mio bisogno, e la fede è calpestata.
RE GIOVANNI	Il Re è commosso, e non risponde a questo.
CONSTANCE	(a Re Filippo) Oh, allontanatevi da lui, e rispondete bene.
AUSTRIA	Fate così, Re Filippo, non state più sospeso nel dubbio. 145
BASTARDO	Non appendete nulla se non una pelle di vitello, dolcissimo zoticone.
RE FILIPPO	Sono perplesso, e non so che dire.
PANDOLFO	Che puoi dire, che non ti renda ancor più perplesso, se resti scomunicato e maledetto?
RE FILIPPO	Buon Reverendo Padre, fate vostra la mia persona, 150 e ditemi come vi comportereste voi. Questa mano regale e la mia sono appena congiunte, e la congiunzione delle nostre anime interiori è sposata in alleanza, accoppiata e legata insieme con tutta la religiosa forza di sacri voti; 155 l’ultimo fiato che diede suono a parole fu fede profondamente giurata, pace, amicizia, vero amore, fra i nostri regni e le nostre persone regali; e proprio prima di questa tregua, poco prima, non più di quanto ci volle a lavarci bene le mani 160 per concludere questo regale patto di pace, Dio sa che esse erano imbrattate e macchiate dal pennello della strage, là dove la Vendetta dipinse la spaventosa contesa di re incolleriti; e queste mani, così di recente monde di sangue, 165 così di fresco unite in amore, così forti in entrambe le cose, dovranno disgiungere questa stretta e questo cortese saluto, giocare a rimpiattino con la fede, così scherzare col cielo, fare di noi stessi figli così incostanti, da strappare ora di nuovo la nostra palma dalla palma, 170 spergiurare la fede giurata, e sul letto nuziale d’una pace sorridente far marciare un’oste sanguinaria, e far tumulto sulla gentile fronte della vera sincerità? Oh santo signore, mio Reverendo Padre, che non sia così. 175 Per vostra grazia, escogitate, ordinate, imponete qualche mite provvedimento, e allora saremo felici di fare il vostro piacere e restare amici.
PANDOLFO	Ogni forma è informe, ogni ordine disordinato, tranne ciò che si oppone all’amicizia dell’Inghilterra. Perciò alle armi, sii campione della nostra Chiesa, o lascia che la Chiesa, nostra madre, esali la sua maledizione, una maledizione materna, sul figlio ribelle. Francia, potresti tener più sicuramente per la lingua un serpente, un leone infuriato per la zampa mortale, 185 una tigre digiuna per il dente, che tenere in pace quella mano che tu stringi.
RE FILIPPO	Posso disgiungere la mia mano, ma non la mia fede.
PANDOLFO	Così tu fai della fede nemica alla fede, e come in una guerra civile opponi giuramento a giuramento, 190 la tua lingua contro la tua lingua. Oh, il tuo voto, fatto per primo al cielo, sia per primo adempiuto al cielo; vale a dire, esser campione della nostra Chiesa. Ciò che hai giurato dopo è giurato contro te stesso, e non può esser adempiuto da te stesso; 195 poiché ciò che hai giurato di fare a torto non è a torto quando è veramente fatto; e non essendo fatto, là dove il farlo tende al male, la verità è allora massimamente compiuta col non farlo. L’atto migliore di propositi sbagliati 200 è di sbagliare di nuovo; benché indiretto, pure per ciò l’indirezione diviene diretta, e falsità cura falsità, come fuoco raffredda fuoco
(didascalia)	dentro le vene riarse di chi è appena stato bruciato.
PANDOLFO	È la religione che fa mantenere i voti; ma tu hai giurato contro la religione; per ciò su cui giuri, contro la cosa stessa su cui giuri; e fai d’un giuramento la garanzia della tua fede: contro un giuramento, la verità. Tu non sei sicuro nel giurare: giuri soltanto per non essere spergiuro—210 altrimenti che beffa sarebbe il giurare!— ma tu giuri soltanto per essere spergiuro, e sommamente spergiuro nel mantenere ciò che giuri; perciò i tuoi voti posteriori contro i tuoi primi sono in te stesso ribellione contro te stesso, 215 e conquista migliore non potrai mai fare che armare le tue parti costanti e più nobili contro queste vertiginose e sfrenate suggestioni; e su quella parte migliore intervengono le nostre preghiere, se tu ne fai conto. Ma se no, allora sappi 220 che il pericolo delle nostre maledizioni cadrà su di te tanto pesante che non potrai scrollartelo di dosso, ma nella disperazione morrai sotto il loro nero peso.
AUSTRIA	Ribellione, aperta ribellione!
BASTARDO	Non ci sarà verso? Non varrà una pelle di vitello a chiuderti codesta bocca? 225
LUIGI IL DELFINO	Padre, alle armi!
BIANCA	Nel giorno delle tue nozze? Contro il sangue che hai sposato? Come, la nostra festa sarà celebrata con uomini scannati? Trombe squillanti e rozzi tamburi rumorosi, clamori d’inferno, saranno le musiche della nostra pompa? 230 S’inginocchia O sposo, ascoltami! Ahimè, come nuova è la parola «sposo» sulla mia bocca! Proprio per quel nome che fino a questo momento la mia lingua non aveva mai pronunciato, sul mio ginocchio ti supplico, non andare in armi contro mio zio.
CONSTANCE	(inginocchiandosi) Oh, sul mio ginocchio 235 indurito dall’inginocchiarmi, io ti prego, virtuoso Delfino, non mutare la sentenza preordinata dal cielo.
BIANCA	(a Luigi il Delfino) Ora vedrò il tuo amore: quale motivo può essere più forte per te del nome di moglie? 240
CONSTANCE	Quello che sostiene colui che sostiene te: il suo onore.—Oh il tuo onore, Luigi, il tuo onore!
LUIGI IL DELFINO	(a Re Filippo) Mi stupisce che vostra maestà appaia così fredda quando tanto profondi riguardi vi sospingono.
PANDOLFO	Pronuncerò una maledizione sul suo capo. 245
RE FILIPPO	Non ce ne sarà bisogno.—Inghilterra, io mi stacco da te.
(didascalia)	Toglie la sua mano da quella di Re Giovanni. Bianca e Costanza si levano
CONSTANCE	Oh, bel ritorno di maestà bandita!
REGINA ELEONORA	Oh, turpe rivolta dell’incostanza francese!
RE GIOVANNI	Francia, tu piangerai quest’ora entro quest’ora stessa.
BASTARDO	Il vecchio Tempo, regolatore d’orologi, quel calvo becchino del Tempo, 250 è forse come vuole lui?—Bene allora, la Francia piangerà.
BIANCA	Il sole s’è coperto di sangue; addio, bel giorno! Qual è la parte con cui devo andare? Sono con entrambe; ciascun esercito ha una mia mano, e nella loro furia, tenendo io entrambe, 255 essi turbinano in direzioni opposte e mi smembrano. Sposo, non posso pregare che tu vinca.— Zio, devo per forza pregare che tu perda.— Padre, non posso augurare che tua sia la fortuna.— Nonna, non voglio augurare che i tuoi voti si compiano. Chiunque vinca, da quella parte io perderò, perdita certa prima ancora che la partita si giochi.
LUIGI IL DELFINO	Signora, con me, con me sta la tua fortuna.
BIANCA	Là dove vive la mia fortuna, là muore la mia vita.
RE GIOVANNI	(al Bastardo) Cugino, va’ a radunare le nostre forze.—
(didascalia)	Esce il Bastardo
RE GIOVANNI	Francia, io sono arso da un’ira infiammante, una rabbia il cui calore ha questa condizione: che nulla può placarla, nulla se non il sangue, il sangue, e il sangue più caramente stimato, di Francia.
RE FILIPPO	La tua rabbia consumerà te stesso, e tu sarai ridotto 270 in cenere prima che il nostro sangue spenga quel fuoco. Bada a te, sei in pericolo.
RE GIOVANNI	Non più di chi minaccia.—Alle armi, affrettiamoci!
(didascalia)	Escono da parti opposte

Speaker	Line
(didascalia)	Alarum; excursions. Enter the Bastard, with the Duke of Austria’s head
BASTARD	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.
(didascalia)	Enter King John, Arthur Duke of Brittaine, and Hubert
KING JOHN	Hubert, keep this boy.—Philip, make up! 5 My mother is assailed in our tent, And ta’en I fear.
BASTARD	My lord, I rescued her; Her highness is in safety; fear you not. But on, my liege, for very little pains Will bring this labour to an happy end. 10
(didascalia)	Exeunt King John and the Bastard at one door, Hubert and Arthur at another door

Chi parla	Battuta
(didascalia)	Allarme; scaramucce. Entra il Bastardo, con la testa del Duca d’Austria
BASTARDO	Ora, sulla mia vita, questo giorno si fa oltremodo caldo; qualche demone dell’aria aleggia nel cielo e riversa sciagure. Giaccia lì la testa d’Austria, mentre Filippo respira.
(didascalia)	Entrano Re Giovanni, Arturo Duca di Bretagna, e Hubert
RE GIOVANNI	Hubert, custodisci questo fanciullo.—Filippo, avanza! 5 Mia madre è assalita nella nostra tenda, e presa, io temo.
BASTARDO	Mio signore, io l’ho soccorsa; sua altezza è in salvo; non temete. Ma avanti, mio sovrano, ché ben poca fatica condurrà quest’opera a felice fine. 10
(didascalia)	Escono Re Giovanni e il Bastardo da una porta, Hubert e Arturo da un’altra porta

Speaker	Line
(didascalia)	Alarum; excursions; retreat. Enter King John, Queen Eleanor, Arthur Duke of Brittaine, the Bastard, Hubert, lords, with soldiers
KING JOHN	(to Queen Eleanor) 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.
ARTHUR	O, this will make my mother die with grief. 5
KING JOHN	(to the Bastard) Cousin, away for England! Haste before, And ere our coming, see thou shake the bags Of hoarding abbots. The fat ribs of peace Must by the hungry now be fed upon. Imprisoned angels set at liberty. 10 Use our commission in his utmost force.
BASTARD	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.
QUEEN ELEANOR	Farewell, gentle cousin.
KING JOHN	Coz, farewell. Exit the Bastard
QUEEN ELEANOR	Come hither, little kinsman. Hark, a word. She takes Arthur aside
KING JOHN	Come hither, Hubert. He takes Hubert aside O my gentle Hubert, We owe thee much. Within this wall of flesh 20 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. He takes Hubert’s hand I had a thing to say, 25 But I will fit it with some better tune. By heaven, Hubert, I am almost ashamed To say what good respect I have of thee.
HUBERT	I am much bounden to your majesty.
KING JOHN	Good friend, thou hast no cause to say so yet, 30 But thou shalt have; and creep time ne‘er so slow, Yet it shall 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, 35 Is all too wanton and too full of gauds To give me audience. If the midnight bell Did with his iron tongue and brazen mouth
(didascalia)	Sound on into the drowsy race of night;
KING JOHN	If this same were a churchyard where we stand, 40 And thou possessed with a thousand wrongs; Or if that surly spirit, melancholy, Had baked thy blood and made it heavy, thick, Which else runs tickling up and down the veins, Making that idiot, laughter, keep men’s eyes 45 And strain their cheeks to idle merriment— A passion hateful to my purposes— Or if that thou couldst 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 broad-eyed 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.
HUBERT	So well that what you bid me undertake, Though that my death were adjunct to my act, By heaven, I would do it.
KING JOHN	Do not I know thou wouldst? Good Hubert, Hubert, Hubert, throw thine eye On yon 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.
HUBERT	And I’ll keep him so That he shall not offend your majesty. 65
KING JOHN	Death.
HUBERT	My lord.
KING JOHN	A grave.
HUBERT	He shall not live.
KING JOHN	Enough. I could be merry now. Hubert, I love thee. Well, I’ll not say what I intend for thee. Remember. (To Queen Eleanor) Madam, fare you well. I’ll send those powers o’er to your majesty. 70
QUEEN ELEANOR	My blessing go with thee.
KING JOHN	(to Arthur) For England, cousin, go. Hubert shall be your man, attend on you With all true duty.—On toward Calais, ho!
(didascalia)	Exeunt Queen Eleanor, attended, at one door, the rest at another door

Chi parla	Battuta
(didascalia)	Allarme; scaramucce; ritirata. Entrano Re Giovanni, la Regina Eleonora, Arturo Duca di Bretagna, il Bastardo, Hubert, signori, con soldati
RE GIOVANNI	(alla Regina Eleonora) Così sia; vostra grazia rimarrà qui addietro con forte scorta. (Ad Arturo) Cugino, non aver l’aria mesta; tua nonna ti ama, e tuo zio ti sarà caro quanto lo fu tuo padre.
ARTHUR	Oh, questo farà morire di dolore mia madre. 5
RE GIOVANNI	(al Bastardo) Cugino, via, in Inghilterra! Affrettati innanzi, e prima del nostro arrivo, bada a scuotere i sacchi degli abati tesaurizzanti. Le grasse costole della pace devono ora esser divorate dagli affamati. Metti in libertà gli angeli imprigionati. 10 Usa la nostra commissione in tutto il suo vigore.
BASTARDO	Campana, libro e candela non mi risospingeranno indietro quando oro e argento mi fanno cenno d’avanzare. Lascio vostra altezza.—Nonna, pregherò, se mai mi ricordo d’esser devoto, per la vostra bella salvezza. E così vi bacio la mano.
REGINA ELEONORA	Addio, gentile cugino.
RE GIOVANNI	Cugino, addio. Esce il Bastardo
REGINA ELEONORA	Vieni qua, piccolo congiunto. Odi, una parola. Trae Arturo in disparte
RE GIOVANNI	Vieni qua, Hubert. Trae Hubert in disparte Oh mio gentile Hubert, molto ti dobbiamo. Dentro questa muraglia di carne 20 v’è un’anima che ti tiene per suo creditore, e con usura intende ripagare il tuo amore; e, mio buon amico, il tuo giuramento spontaneo vive in questo petto, teneramente custodito. Dammi la tua mano. Prende la mano di Hubert Avevo qualcosa da dire, 25 ma la accorderò a un tono migliore. Per il cielo, Hubert, quasi mi vergogno di dire in che alta stima io ti tenga.
HUBERT	Sono assai obbligato a vostra maestà.
RE GIOVANNI	Buon amico, non hai ancora ragione di dirlo, 30 ma l’avrai; e per lento che strisci il tempo, pur verrà il momento ch’io ti faccia del bene. Avevo qualcosa da dire—ma lasciamo andare. Il sole è nel cielo, e il giorno superbo, accompagnato dai piaceri del mondo, 35 è troppo lascivo e troppo pieno di lustrini per darmi udienza. Se la campana di mezzanotte con la sua lingua di ferro e la sua bocca di bronzo
(didascalia)	Rintoccasse dentro la sonnolenta corsa della notte;
RE GIOVANNI	Se questo dove stiamo fosse un cimitero, 40 e tu fossi posseduto da mille torti; o se quel bieco spirito, la malinconia, t’avesse cotto il sangue e reso greve, denso, quel sangue che altrimenti corre solleticando su e giù per le vene, e fa che quell’idiota, il riso, tenga aperti gli occhi degli uomini 45 e tenda le loro gote a vana allegria— passione odiosa ai miei disegni— o se tu potessi vedermi senza occhi, udirmi senza le tue orecchie, e rispondere senza lingua, usando il solo pensiero, senza occhi, orecchie e nocivo suono di parole; allora, a dispetto del giorno vigile dagli occhi spalancati, verserei nel tuo seno i miei pensieri. Ma, ah, non lo farò. Pure ti amo bene, e in fede mia, credo che tu m’ami bene.
HUBERT	Così bene che ciò che mi comandaste d’intraprendere, quand’anche la mia morte fosse congiunta al mio atto, per il cielo, lo farei.
RE GIOVANNI	Non so io forse che lo faresti? Buon Hubert, Hubert, Hubert, getta il tuo occhio su quel giovane fanciullo. Ti dirò una cosa, amico mio, egli è proprio un serpente sul mio cammino, e dovunque questo mio piede si posi, egli mi giace davanti. Mi comprendi tu? Tu sei il suo custode.
HUBERT	E lo custodirò in modo che non offenda vostra maestà. 65
RE GIOVANNI	Morte.
HUBERT	Mio signore.
RE GIOVANNI	Una fossa.
HUBERT	Non vivrà.
RE GIOVANNI	Basta. Ora potrei esser lieto. Hubert, ti amo. Bene, non dirò ciò che intendo per te. Ricorda. (Alla Regina Eleonora) Signora, state bene. Manderò quelle truppe a vostra maestà. 70
REGINA ELEONORA	La mia benedizione ti accompagni.
RE GIOVANNI	(ad Arturo) Per l’Inghilterra, cugino, va’. Hubert sarà il tuo uomo, ti servirà con ogni fedele devozione.—Avanti verso Calais, olà!
(didascalia)	Escono la Regina Eleonora, col suo seguito, da una porta, gli altri da un’altra porta

Speaker	Line
(didascalia)	Enter King Philip, Louis the Dauphin, Cardinal Pandolf, and attendants
KING PHILIP	So, by a roaring tempest on the flood, A whole armada of convicted sail Is scattered and disjoined from fellowship.
PANDOLF	Courage and comfort; all shall yet go well.
KING PHILIP	What can go well when we have run so ill? Are we not beaten? Is not Angers lost, Arthur ta‘en prisoner, divers dear friends slain, And bloody England into England gone, O’erbearing interruption, spite of France?
LOUIS THE DAUPHIN	What he hath won, that hath he fortified. 10 So hot a speed, with such advice disposed, Such temperate order in so fierce a cause, Doth want example. Who hath read or heard Of any kindred action like to this?
KING PHILIP	Well could I bear that England had this praise, 15 So we could find some pattern of our shame.
(didascalia)	Enter Constance, distracted, with her hair about her ears
KING PHILIP	Look who comes here! A grave unto a soul, Holding th’eternal spirit against her will In the vile prison of afflicted breath.— I prithee, lady, go away with me. 20
CONSTANCE	Lo, now, now see the issue of your peace!
KING PHILIP	Patience, good lady; comfort, gentle Constance.
CONSTANCE	No, I defy all counsel, all redress, But that which ends all counsel, true redress: Death, Death, O amiable, lovely Death! 25 Thou odoriferous stench, sound rottenness! Arise forth from the couch of lasting night, Thou hate and terror to prosperity, And I will kiss thy detestable bones, And put my eyeballs in thy vaulty brows, 30 And ring these fingers with thy household worms, And stop this gap of breath with fulsome dust, And be a carrion monster like thyself. Come grin on me, and I will think thou smil’st, And buss thee as thy wife. Misery’s love, 35 O, come to me!
KING PHILIP	O fair affliction, peace I
CONSTANCE	No, no, I will not, having breath to cry. O, that my tongue were in the thunder’s mouth! Then with a passion would I shake the world, And rouse from sleep that fell anatomy, Which cannot hear a lady’s feeble voice, Which scorns a modern invocation.
PANDOLF	Lady, you utter madness, and not sorrow.
CONSTANCE	Thou art not holy to belie me so. I am not mad: this hair I tear is mine; My name is Constance; I was Geoffrey’s wife; Young Arthur is my son; and he is lost. I am not mad; I would to God I were, For then ’tis like I should forget myself. O,if I could, what grief should I forget ! 50 Preach some philosophy to make me mad, And thou shalt be canonized, Cardinal. For, being not mad, but sensible of grief, My reasonable part produces reason How I may be delivered of these woes, 55 And teaches me to kill or hang myself. If I were mad I should forget my son, Or madly think a babe of clouts were he. I am not mad; too well, too well I feel The different plague of each calamity. 60
KING PHILIP	Bind up those tresses. O,what love I note In the fair multitude of those her hairs! Where but by chance a silver drop hath fallen, Even to that drop ten thousand wiry friends Do glue themselves in sociable grief, 65 Like true, inseparable, faithful loves, Sticking together in calamity.
CONSTANCE	To England, if you will.
KING PHILIP	Bind up your hairs.
CONSTANCE	Yes, that I will. And wherefore will I do it? I tore them from their bonds, and cried aloud, ‘O that these hands could so redeem my son, As they have given these hairs their liberty!’ But now I envy at their liberty, And will again commit them to their bonds, Because my poor child is a prisoner. 75 She binds up her hair And Father Cardinal, I have heard you say That we shall see and know our friends in heaven. If that be true, I shall see my boy again; For since the birth of Cain, the first male child, To him that did but yesterday suspire, 80 There was not such a gracious creature born. But now will canker-sorrow eat my bud, And chase the native beauty from his cheek; And he will look as hollow as a ghost, As dim and meagre as an ague’s fit, And so he’ll die; and rising so again, When I shall meet him in the court of heaven, I shall not know him; therefore never, never Must I behold my pretty Arthur more.
PANDOLF	You hold too heinous a respect of grief.
CONSTANCE	He talks to me that never had a son.
KING PHILIP	You are as fond of grief as of your child.
CONSTANCE	Grief fills the room up of my absent child, Lies in his bed, walks up and down with me, Puts on his pretty looks, repeats his words, Remembers me of all his gracious parts, Stuffs out his vacant garments with his form; Then have I reason to be fond of grief. Fare you well. Had you such a loss as I, I could give better comfort than you do. 100
(didascalia)	She unbinds her hair
CONSTANCE	I will not keep this form upon my head When there is such disorder in my wit. O Lord, my boy, my Arthur, my fair son, My life, my joy, my food, my all the world, 104 My widow-comfort, and my sorrow’s cure! Exit
(didascalia)	I fear some outrage, and I’ll follow her. Exit attended
LOUIS THE DAUPHIN	There’s nothing in this world can make me joy. Life is as tedious as a twice-told tale, Vexing the dull ear of a drowsy man; And bitter shame hath spoiled the sweet world’s taste, That it yields naught but shame and bitterness. 111
PANDOLF	Before the curing of a strong disease, Even in the instant of repair and health, The fit is strongest. Evils that take leave, On their departure most of all show evil. 115 What have you lost by losing of this day?
LOUIS THE DAUPHIN	All days of glory, joy, and happiness.
PANDOLF	If you had won it, certainly you had. No, no; when Fortune means to men most good, She looks upon them with a threat‘ning eye. ’Tis strange to think how much King John hath lost In this which he accounts so clearly won. Are not you grieved that Arthur is his prisoner?
LOUIS THE DAUPHIN	As heartily as he is glad he hath him.
PANDOLF	Your mind is all as youthful as your blood. 125 Now hear me speak with a prophetic spirit, For even the breath of what I mean to speak Shall blow each dust, each straw, each little rub, Out of the path which shall directly lead Thy foot to England’s throne. And therefore mark. John hath seized Arthur, and it cannot be That whiles warm life plays in that infant’s veins The misplaced John should entertain an hour, One minute, nay, one quiet breath of rest. A sceptre snatched with an unruly hand Must be as boisterously maintained as gained; And he that stands upon a slipp’ry place Makes nice of no vile hold to stay him up. That John may stand, then Arthur needs must fall; So be it, for it cannot be but so.
LOUIS THE DAUPHIN	But what shall I gain by young Arthur’s fall?
PANDOLF	You, in the right of Lady Blanche your wife, May then make all the claim that Arthur did.
LOUIS THE DAUPHIN	And lose it, life and all, as Arthur did.
PANDOLF	How green you are, and fresh in this old world 145 John lays you plots; the times conspire with you; For he that steeps his safety in true blood Shall find but bloody safety and untrue. This act, so vilely born, shall cool the hearts Of all his people, and freeze up their zeal, That none so small advantage shall step forth To check his reign but they will cherish it; No natural exhalation in the sky, No scope of nature, no distempered day, No common wind, no customèd event, 155 But they will pluck away his natural cause, And call them meteors, prodigies, and signs, Abortives, presages, and tongues of heaven Plainly denouncing vengeance upon John.
LOUIS THE DAUPHIN	Maybe he will not touch young Arthur’s life, But hold himself safe in his prisonment.
PANDOLF	O sir, when he shall hear of your approach, If that young Arthur be not gone already, Even at that news he dies; and then the hearts Of all his people shall revolt from him, And kiss the lips of unacquainted change, And pick strong matter of revolt and wrath Out of the bloody fingers’ ends of John. Methinks I see this hurly all on foot, And O, what better matter breeds for you 170 Than I have named! The Bastard Falconbridge Is now in England, ransacking the Church, Offending charity. If but a dozen French Were there in arms, they would be as a call To train ten thousand English to their side, 175 Or as a little snow tumbled about Anon becomes a mountain. O noble Dauphin, Go with me to the King. ’Tis wonderful What may be wrought out of their discontent Now that their souls are top-full of offence. 180 For England, go! I will whet on the King.
LOUIS THE DAUPHIN	Strong reasons make strange actions. Let us go. If you say ay, the King will not say no. Exeunt

Chi parla	Battuta
(didascalia)	Entrano Re Filippo, Luigi il Delfino, il Cardinale Pandolfo, e il seguito
RE FILIPPO	Così, per una tempesta ruggente sull’acqua, un’intera armata di vele condannate è dispersa e sciolta dalla sua compagnia.
PANDOLFO	Coraggio e conforto; tutto andrà ancora bene.
RE FILIPPO	Che può andar bene quando siam corsi così male? Non siamo battuti? Non è perduta Angers, Arturo fatto prigioniero, molti cari amici uccisi, e la sanguinaria Inghilterra tornata in Inghilterra, travolgendo ogni ostacolo, a dispetto della Francia?
LUIGI IL DELFINO	Ciò che ha conquistato, l’ha fortificato. 10 Una tanto ardente rapidità, disposta con tale accortezza, un ordine così misurato in una causa così feroce, è senza esempio. Chi ha letto o udito d’una qualsiasi azione consimile a questa?
RE FILIPPO	Bene potrei sopportare che l’Inghilterra avesse questa lode, 15 se solo trovassimo qualche precedente della nostra vergogna.
(didascalia)	Entra Costanza, fuori di sé, coi capelli sciolti sulle orecchie
RE FILIPPO	Guardate chi viene! Una fossa per un’anima, che trattiene lo spirito eterno contro il suo volere nella vile prigione d’un respiro afflitto.— Vi prego, signora, venite via con me. 20
CONSTANCE	Ecco, ora, ora vedete il frutto della vostra pace!
RE FILIPPO	Pazienza, buona signora; conforto, gentile Costanza.
CONSTANCE	No, io rifiuto ogni consiglio, ogni rimedio, tranne quello che pone fine a ogni consiglio, il vero rimedio: Morte, Morte, oh amabile, adorata Morte! 25 Tu fetore odoroso, sana putredine! Sorgi fuori dal giaciglio dell’eterna notte, tu odio e terrore della prosperità, e io bacerò le tue ossa detestabili, e porrò le mie pupille nelle tue orbite cave, 30 e inanellerò queste dita coi vermi di casa tua, e turerò questo varco del respiro con polvere nauseante, e sarò un mostro di carogna come te. Vieni a ghignarmi in faccia, e crederò che tu sorrida, e ti bacerò come tua moglie. Amore della miseria, 35 oh, vieni a me!
RE FILIPPO	Oh bella afflizione, pace!
CONSTANCE	No, no, non tacerò, finché ho fiato per gridare. Oh, fosse la mia lingua nella bocca del tuono! Allora con la mia passione scuoterei il mondo, e desterei dal sonno quel crudele scheletro, che non sa udire la debole voce d’una dama, e che sdegna una preghiera dei giorni nostri.
PANDOLFO	Signora, voi proferite follia, e non dolore.
CONSTANCE	Tu non sei santo, per calunniarmi così. Non sono pazza: questi capelli che strappo sono miei; il mio nome è Costanza; fui moglie di Goffredo; il giovane Arturo è mio figlio; ed è perduto. Non sono pazza; volesse Dio che lo fossi, ché allora è probabile ch’io dimenticherei me stessa. Oh, se lo potessi, quale dolore dimenticherei! 50 Predica un po’ di filosofia per farmi impazzire, e sarai canonizzato, Cardinale. Poiché, non essendo pazza, ma sensibile al dolore, la mia parte ragionevole produce ragioni su come io possa liberarmi da queste pene, 55 e m’insegna a uccidermi o a impiccarmi. Se fossi pazza dimenticherei mio figlio, o pazzamente crederei lui un fantoccio di stracci. Non sono pazza; troppo bene, troppo bene io sento la piaga diversa d’ogni sciagura. 60
RE FILIPPO	Raccogliete quelle chiome. Oh, quale amore io scorgo nella bella moltitudine di quei suoi capelli! Dove per caso è caduta una goccia d’argento, proprio a quella goccia diecimila amici filiformi s’incollano in socievole dolore, 65 come amori veri, inseparabili, fedeli, che restan stretti insieme nella sciagura.
CONSTANCE	In Inghilterra, se volete.
RE FILIPPO	Raccogliete i vostri capelli.
CONSTANCE	Sì, lo farò. E perché lo farò? Li strappai dai loro legami, e gridai forte: «Oh, potessero queste mani riscattare mio figlio, come hanno dato a questi capelli la libertà!» Ma ora invidio la loro libertà, e di nuovo li affiderò ai loro legami, perché il mio povero figlio è prigioniero. 75 Si raccoglie i capelli E, padre Cardinale, v’ho sentito dire che noi vedremo e riconosceremo i nostri cari in cielo. Se questo è vero, rivedrò il mio bambino; poiché dalla nascita di Caino, il primo figlio maschio, fino a colui che appena ieri prese fiato, 80 non nacque mai creatura così graziosa. Ma ora il dolore roditore mangerà il mio bocciolo, e caccerà la nativa bellezza dalla sua guancia; ed egli sarà scavato come un fantasma, smorto e magro come un accesso di febbre; e così morrà; e risorgendo così, quando lo incontrerò nella corte del cielo, non lo riconoscerò; perciò mai, mai più dovrò contemplare il mio bel Arturo.
PANDOLFO	Voi nutrite un culto troppo odioso del dolore.
CONSTANCE	Mi parla uno che non ebbe mai un figlio.
RE FILIPPO	Voi siete innamorata del dolore quanto del vostro figlio.
CONSTANCE	Il dolore riempie il posto del mio figlio assente, giace nel suo letto, va su e giù con me, assume i suoi cari sembianti, ripete le sue parole, mi rammenta tutte le sue grazie, riempie della sua forma le vesti vuote di lui; ho dunque ragione d’essere innamorata del dolore. State bene. Aveste voi una tale perdita qual è la mia, saprei dare conforto migliore di quel che date voi. 100
(didascalia)	Si scioglie i capelli
CONSTANCE	Non terrò quest’ordine sul mio capo quando v’è tanto disordine nel mio senno. O Signore, il mio bambino, il mio Arturo, il mio bel figlio, la mia vita, la mia gioia, il mio cibo, il mio tutto il mondo, 104 il conforto della mia vedovanza, e la cura del mio dolore! Esce
(didascalia)	Temo qualche eccesso, e la seguirò. Esce col seguito
LUIGI IL DELFINO	Non c’è nulla in questo mondo che possa darmi gioia. La vita è tediosa come un racconto detto due volte, che infastidisce l’orecchio ottuso d’un uomo assonnato; e un’amara vergogna ha guastato il dolce sapore del mondo, sicché esso non rende che vergogna e amarezza. 111
PANDOLFO	Prima della guarigione d’un morbo violento, proprio nell’istante del risanamento e della salute, l’accesso è più forte. I mali che prendono congedo, nel loro partire mostrano più che mai il loro male. 115 Che avete perduto perdendo questa giornata?
LUIGI IL DELFINO	Tutti i giorni di gloria, di gioia e di felicità.
PANDOLFO	Se l’aveste vinta, certamente li avreste avuti. No, no; quando la Fortuna vuole agli uomini il maggior bene, li guarda con occhio minaccioso. È strano pensare quanto Re Giovanni abbia perduto in ciò ch’egli stima così nettamente vinto. Non vi accora che Arturo sia suo prigioniero?
LUIGI IL DELFINO	Di cuore, quanto egli è lieto d’averlo.
PANDOLFO	La vostra mente è giovane quanto il vostro sangue. 125 Ora ascoltatemi parlare con spirito profetico, ché il fiato stesso di ciò che intendo dire soffierà via ogni granello, ogni fuscello, ogni piccolo intoppo, fuori dal sentiero che condurrà diritto il vostro piede al trono d’Inghilterra. E dunque notate. Giovanni ha preso Arturo, e non può essere che, finché la vita calda gioca nelle vene di quel fanciullo, Giovanni l’usurpatore goda un’ora, un minuto, anzi, un solo quieto respiro di riposo. Uno scettro strappato con mano violenta dev’essere mantenuto con la stessa violenza con cui fu preso; e chi sta sopra un luogo sdrucciolevole non fa il difficile su nessun vile appiglio che lo regga. Perché Giovanni stia in piedi, Arturo deve cadere; e sia così, ché non può essere altrimenti.
LUIGI IL DELFINO	Ma che guadagnerò io dalla caduta del giovane Arturo?
PANDOLFO	Voi, per diritto di Lady Bianca vostra moglie, potrete allora avanzare tutte le pretese che avanzava Arturo.
LUIGI IL DELFINO	E perderle, con la vita e tutto, come le perse Arturo.
PANDOLFO	Quanto siete verde e fresco in questo vecchio mondo! 145 Giovanni vi tende le trame; i tempi cospirano con voi; ché chi intride la propria sicurezza in sangue innocente non troverà che una sicurezza sanguinosa e infida. Quest’atto, nato così vilmente, raffredderà i cuori di tutto il suo popolo, e ne agghiaccerà lo zelo, sicché non vi sarà vantaggio, per piccolo che sia, a contrastare il suo regno, che essi non l’accarezzino; non vi sarà naturale esalazione nel cielo, nessun evento della natura, nessun giorno intemperante, nessun comune vento, nessun avvenimento consueto, 155 ch’essi non ne strappino via la causa naturale, e non li chiamino meteore, prodigi e segni, aborti, presagi e lingue del cielo che apertamente annunciano vendetta contro Giovanni.
LUIGI IL DELFINO	Forse non toccherà la vita del giovane Arturo, ma si terrà sicuro tenendolo prigioniero.
PANDOLFO	Oh signore, quando udrà del vostro avvicinarsi, se il giovane Arturo non sarà già spento, a quella sola notizia egli morrà; e allora i cuori di tutto il suo popolo si ribelleranno a lui, e baceranno le labbra d’un mutamento sconosciuto, e trarranno forte materia di rivolta e d’ira dalle punte insanguinate delle dita di Giovanni. Mi pare di vedere già in piedi tutto questo tumulto, e oh, che materia migliore matura per voi 170 di quella ch’io ho nominato! Il Bastardo Falconbridge è ora in Inghilterra, a saccheggiare la Chiesa, offendendo la carità. Bastasse che una dozzina di Francesi fossero là in armi, sarebbero come un richiamo ad attirare diecimila Inglesi dalla loro parte, 175 o come un po’ di neve rotolata intorno che ben presto diventa una montagna. Oh nobile Delfino, venite con me dal Re. È meraviglioso ciò che si può ricavare dal loro malcontento ora che le loro anime sono colme fino all’orlo d’offesa. 180 Per l’Inghilterra, andiamo! Io aguzzerò il Re.
LUIGI IL DELFINO	Forti ragioni fanno strane azioni. Andiamo. Se voi dite sì, il Re non dirà no. Escono

Speaker	Line
(didascalia)	Enter Hubert, and Executioners with a rope and irons
HUBERT	Heat me these irons hot, and look thou stand
(didascalia)	Within the arras. When I strike my foot
HUBERT	Upon the bosom of the ground, rush forth And bind the boy which you shall find with me Fast to the chair. Be heedful. Hence, and watch! 5
EXECUTIONER	I hope your warrant will bear out the deed.
HUBERT	Uncleanly scruples: fear not you. Look to’t!
(didascalia)	The Executioners withdraw behind the arras
HUBERT	Young lad, come forth, I have to say with you.
(didascalia)	Enter Arthur Duke of Brittaine
ARTHUR	Good morrow, Hubert. Good morrow, little Prince.
ARTHUR	As little prince, having so great a title 10 To be more prince, as may be. You are sad.
HUBERT	Indeed I have been merrier. ARTHURMercy on me! Methinks nobody should be sad but I. Yet I remember, when I was in France, Young gentlemen would be as sad as night 15 Only for wantonness. By my christendom, So I were out of prison and kept sheep, I should be as merry as the day is long; And so I would be here, but that I doubt My uncle practises more harm to me. 20 He is afraid of me, and I of him. Is it my fault that I was Geoffrey’s son? No, indeed is’t not, and I would to God I were your son, so you would love me, Hubert.
HUBERT	(aside) If I talk to him, with his innocent prate 25 He will awake my mercy, which lies dead; Therefore I will be sudden, and dispatch.
ARTHUR	Are you sick, Hubert? You look pale today. In sooth, I would you were a little sick, That I might sit all night and watch with you. 30 I warrant I love you more than you do me. HUBERT(aside) His words do take possession of my bosom. He shows Arthur a paper Read here, young Arthur. (Aside) How now: foolish rheum, Turning dispiteous torture out of door? I must be brief, lest resolution drop Out at mine eyes in tender womanish tears. (To Arthur) Can you not read it? Is it not fair writ?
ARTHUR	Too fairly, Hubert, for so foul effect. Must you with hot irons burn out both mine eyes?
HUBERT	Young boy, I must.
ARTHUR	And will you? HUBERTAnd I will. 40
ARTHUR	Have you the heart? When your head did but ache I knit my handkerchief about your brows, The best I had—a princess wrought it me, And I did never ask it you again— And with my hand at midnight held your head, And like the watchful minutes to the hour Still and anon cheered up the heavy time, Saying ‘What lack you?’ and ‘Where lies your grief?’ Or ‘What good love may I perform for you?’ Many a poor man’s son would have lain still And ne’er have spoke a loving word to you, But you at your sick service had a prince. Nay, you may think my love was crafty love, And call it cunning. Do, an if you will. If heaven be pleased that you must use me ill, 55 Why then you must. Will you put out mine eyes, These eyes that never did, nor never shall, So much as frown on you?
HUBERTI	have sworn to do it, And with hot irons must I burn them out.
ARTHUR	Ah, none but in this iron age would do it. 60 The iron of itself, though heat red hot, Approaching near these eyes would drink my tears, And quench his fiery indignation Even in the matter of mine innocence; Nay, after that, consume away in rust, But for containing fire to harm mine eye. Are you more stubborn-hard than hammered iron? An if an angel should have come to me And told me Hubert should put out mine eyes, I would not have believed him; no tongue but Hubert’s. Hubert stamps his foot
HUBERT	Come forth! The Executioners come forth Do as I bid you do.
ARTHUR	O, save me, Hubert, save me! My eyes are out Even with the fierce looks of these bloody men.
HUBERT	(to the Executioners) Give me the iron, I say, and bind him here. He takes the iron
ARTHUR	Alas, what need you be so boisterous-rough? I will not struggle; I will stand stone-still. For God’s sake, Hubert, let me not be bound. Nay, hear me, Hubert Drive these men away, And I will sit as quiet as a lamb; I will not stir, nor wince, nor speak a word, 80 Nor look upon the iron angerly. Thrust but these men away, and I’ll forgive you, Whatever torment you do put me to.
HUBERT	(to the Executioners) Go stand within. Let me alone with him.
EXECUTIONER	I am best pleased to be from such a deed. 85
(didascalia)	Exeunt Executioners
ARTHUR	Alas, I then have chid away my friend! He hath a stern look, but a gentle heart. Let him come back, that his compassion may Give life to yours.
HUBERT	Come, boy, prepare yourself.
ARTHUR	Is there no remedy?
HUBERT	None but to lose your eyes. 90
ARTHUR	O God, that there were but a mote in yours, A grain, a dust, a gnat, a wandering hair, Any annoyance in that precious sense, Then, feeling what small things are boisterous there, Your vile intent must needs seem horrible. 95
HUBERT	Is this your promise? Go to, hold your tongue!
ARTHUR	Hubert, the utterance of a brace of tongues Must needs want pleading for a pair of eyes. Let me not hold my tongue, let me not, Hubert; Or, Hubert, if you will, cut out my tongue, 100 So I may keep mine eyes. O, spare mine eyes, Though to no use but still to look on you. Lo, by my troth, the instrument is cold And would not harm me.
HUBERT	I can heat it, boy.
ARTHUR	No, in good sooth: the fire is dead with grief, 105 Being create for comfort, to be used In undeserved extremes. See else yourself. There is no malice in this burning coal; The breath of heaven hath blown his spirit out, And strewed repentant ashes on his head. II0
HUBERT	But with my breath I can revive it, boy.
ARTHUR	An if you do, you will but make it blush And glow with shame of your proceedings, Hubert. Nay, it perchance will sparkle in your eyes, And like a dog that is compelled to fight, Snatch at his master that doth tarre him on. All things that you should use to do me wrong Deny their office; only you do lack That mercy which fierce fire and iron extends, Creatures of note for mercy-lacking uses.
HUBERT	Well, see to live. I will not touch thine eye For all the treasure that thine uncle owes. Yet am I sworn, and I did purpose, boy, With this same very iron to burn them out.
ARTHUR	O, now you look like Hubert. All this while You were disguised.
HUBERT	Peace, no more. Adieu. Your uncle must not know but you are dead. I’ll fill these dogged spies with false reports; And, pretty child, sleep doubtless and secure That Hubert, for the wealth of all the world, Will not offend thee.
ARTHUR	O God! I thank you, Hubert.
HUBERT	Silence, no more. Go closely in with me. Much danger do I undergo for thee. Exeunt
(didascalia)	4.2 flourish. Enter King John, the Earls of Pembroke and Salisbury, and other lords. King John ascends the throne
KING JOHN	Here once again we sit, once again crowned, And looked upon, I hope, with cheerful eyes.
PEMBROKE	This ‘once again’, but that your highness pleased, Was once superfluous. You were crowned before, And that high royalty was ne‘er plucked off, The faiths of men ne’er stained with revolt; Fresh expectation troubled not the land With any longed-for change or better state.
SALISBURY	Therefore to be possessed with double pomp, To guard a title that was rich before, 10 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 fashioned robe.
PEMBROKE	When workmen strive to do better than well, They do confound their skill in covetousness; And oftentimes excusing of a fault Doth make the fault the worser by th’excuse; As patches set upon a little breach Discredit more in hiding of the fault Than did the fault before it was so patched.
SALISBURY	To this effect: before you were new-crowned We breathed our counsel, but it pleased your highness To overbear it; and we are all well pleased, Since all and every part of what we would Doth make a stand at what your highness will.
KING JOHN	Some reasons of this double coronation I have possessed you with, and think them strong. And more, more strong, when lesser is my fear I shall endue you with. Meantime but ask What you would have reformed 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 Doth move the murmuring lips of discontent To break into this dangerous argument: If what in rest you have, in right you hold, 55 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, 65 Counts it your weal he have his liberty.
(didascalia)	Enter Hubert
KING JOHN	Let it be so. I do commit his youth To your direction.—Hubert, what news with you? He takes Hubert aside
PEMBROKE	This is the man should do the bloody deed: He showed his warrant to a friend of mine. 70 The image of a wicked heinous fault Lives in his eye; that close aspect of his Does show the mood of a much troubled breast; And I do fearfully believe ’tis done What we so feared he had a charge to do. 75
SALISBURY	The colour of the King doth 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 thence 80 The foul corruption of a sweet child’s death.
KING JOHN	(coming forward) 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 deceased tonight.
SALISBURY	Indeed we feared 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 answered, either here or hence.
KING JOHN	Why do you bend such solemn brows on me? 90 Think you I bear the shears of destiny? Have I commandment on the pulse of life?
SALISBURY	It is apparent foul play, and ’tis 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 thee, And find th’inheritance of this poor child, His little kingdom of a forced grave. That blood which owed the breadth of all this isle Three foot of it doth hold. Bad world the while. 100 This must not be thus borne. This will break out To all our sorrows; and ere long, I doubt.
(didascalia)	Exeunt Pembroke, Salisbury, and other lords
KING JOHN	They burn in indignation. I repent. There is no sure foundation set on blood, No certain life achieved by others’ death. 105
(didascalia)	Enter a Messenger
KING JOHN	A fearful eye thou hast. Where is that blood That I have seen inhabit in those cheeks? So foul a sky clears not without a storm; Pour down thy 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 learned by them, For when you should be told they do prepare, The tidings comes that they are all arrived.
KING JOHN	O, where hath our intelligence been drunk? Where hath it slept? Where is my mother’s ear, That such an army could be drawn in France, And she not hear of it?
MESSENGER	My liege, her ear Is stopped 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 thy speed, dreadful Occasion; O, make a league with me till I have pleased My discontented peers. What, Mother dead? How wildly then walks my estate in France!— Under whose conduct came those powers of France That thou for truth giv’st out are landed here?
MESSENGER	Under the Dauphin.
(didascalia)	Enter the Bastard and Peter of Pomfret
KING JOHN	Thou hast made me giddy With these ill tidings. (To the Bastard) 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, 135 Then let the worst, unheard, fall on your head.
KING JOHN	Bear with me, cousin, for I was amazed 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 travelled hither through the land, I find the people strangely fantasied, Possessed 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 ere the next Ascension Day at noon 151 Your highness should deliver up your crown.
KING JOHN	Thou idle dreamer, wherefore didst thou so?
PETER OF POMFRET	Foreknowing that the truth will fall out so.
KING JOHN	Hubert, away with him! Imprison him,155 And on that day, at noon, whereon he says I shall yield up my crown, let him be hanged. Deliver him to safety, and return, For I must use thee.
(didascalia)	Exeunt Hubert and Peter of Pomfret
KING JOHN	O my gentle cousin, Hear’st thou the news abroad, who are arrived? 160
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 killed tonight On your suggestion.
KING JOHN	Gentle kinsman, go And thrust thyself into their companies. I have away to win 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 thy heels, And fly like thought from them to me again. 175
BASTARD	The spirit of the time shall teach me speed. Exit
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 thou he. 180
MESSENGER	With all my heart, my liege. Exit
KING JOHN	My mother dead!
(didascalia)	Enter Hubert
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; 190 And he that speaks doth grip 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 200 That were embattailèd and ranked in Kent. Another lean unwashed artificer Cuts off his tale, and talks of Arthur’s death.
KING JOHN	Why seek’st thou to possess me with these fears? Why urgest thou so oft young Arthur’s death? Thy hand hath murdered him. I had a mighty cause To wish him dead, but thou 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 perchance it frowns More upon humour than advised respect.
HUBERT	Here is your hand and seal for what I did. He shows a paper
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 oft the sight of means to do ill deeds 220 Make deeds ill done! Hadst not thou been by, A fellow by the hand of nature marked, Quoted, and signed to do a deed of shame, This murder had not come into my mind. But taking note of thy abhorred aspect, Finding thee fit for bloody villainy, Apt, liable to be employed in danger, I faintly broke with thee of Arthur’s death; And thou, to be endeared to a king, Made it no conscience to destroy a prince.
HUBERT	My lord—
KING JOHN	Hadst thou but shook thy head or made a pause When I spake darkly what I purposed, Or turned 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 thy fears might have wrought fears in me. But thou didst understand me by my signs, And didst in signs again parley with sin; Yea, without stop, didst let thy heart consent, And consequently thy 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 braved, Even at my gates, with ranks of foreign powers; Nay, in the body of this 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.
(didascalia)	Within this bosom never entered yet
HUBERT	The dreadful motion of a murderous thought; And you have slandered nature in my form, Which, howsoever rude exteriorly, Is yet the cover of a fairer mind Than to be butcher of an innocent child. 260
KING JOHN	Doth Arthur live? O, haste thee 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 thy feature, for my rage was blind, 265 And foul imaginary eyes of blood Presented thee more hideous than thou art. O,answer not, but to my closet bring The angry lords with all expedient haste. I conjure thee but slowly; run more fast.
(didascalia)	Exeunt severally

Chi parla	Battuta
(didascalia)	Entrano Hubert, e alcuni Sgherri con una corda e dei ferri
HUBERT	Fatemi arroventare questi ferri, e bada di stare
(didascalia)	dietro l’arazzo. Quando batterò il piede
HUBERT	sul petto della terra, precipitatevi fuori e legate stretto alla sedia il fanciullo che troverete con me. Fate attenzione. Via, e all’erta! 5
SGHERRO	Spero che il vostro mandato giustifichi l’atto.
HUBERT	Scrupoli sudici: non temere. Bada al tuo compito!
(didascalia)	Gli Sgherri si ritirano dietro l’arazzo
HUBERT	Giovinetto, vieni avanti, ho da parlarti.
(didascalia)	Entra Arturo Duca di Bretagna
ARTHUR	Buon giorno, Hubert. Buon giorno, piccolo Principe.
ARTHUR	Piccolo principe quanto si vuole, pur avendo un titolo così grande 10 a esser principe più grande. Voi siete triste.
HUBERT	In verità sono stato più allegro. ARTUROPietà di me! Mi pare che nessuno dovrebbe esser triste se non io. Eppure ricordo che, quando ero in Francia, i giovani gentiluomini si facevano tristi come la notte 15 per pura civetteria. Per il mio battesimo, se fossi fuori di prigione e guardassi le pecore, sarei allegro quanto il giorno è lungo; e così sarei anche qui, se non dubitassi che mio zio mediti contro di me altro male. 20 Egli ha paura di me, e io di lui. È colpa mia s’io fui figlio di Goffredo? No, davvero non lo è, e volesse Dio ch’io fossi vostro figlio, purché voi mi amaste, Hubert.
HUBERT	(a parte) Se gli parlo, col suo innocente cicaleccio 25 desterà la mia pietà, che giace morta; perciò sarò rapido, e sbrigherò la cosa.
ARTHUR	Siete malato, Hubert? Oggi sembrate pallido. In verità, vorrei che foste un poco malato, perch’io potessi vegliare tutta la notte accanto a voi. 30 Vi garantisco ch’io vi amo più di quanto voi amiate me. HUBERT(a parte) Le sue parole prendono possesso del mio petto. Mostra ad Arturo un foglio Leggi qui, giovane Arturo. (A parte) E ora, sciocco umore, metti fuori dalla porta la spietata tortura? Devo esser breve, che la risolutezza non mi coli via dagli occhi in tenere lacrime da donna. (Ad Arturo) Non sai leggerlo? Non è scritto in bella forma?
ARTHUR	In forma troppo bella, Hubert, per un effetto così turpe. Dovete con ferri roventi bruciarmi via entrambi gli occhi?
HUBERT	Giovinetto, devo.
ARTHUR	E lo farete? HUBERTE lo farò. 40
ARTHUR	Ne avete il cuore? Quando solo vi doleva il capo io vi legai il mio fazzoletto intorno alle tempie, il migliore che avevo—me l’aveva ricamato una principessa— e non ve lo richiesi mai indietro— e con la mia mano a mezzanotte vi ressi il capo, e come i minuti vigili fanno con l’ora, di continuo rallegravo il greve tempo, dicendo «Che vi manca?» e «Dove sta il vostro dolore?» oppure «Qual buon servizio d’amore posso rendervi?» Molti figli di povera gente sarebbero rimasti coricati senza mai dirvi una parola affettuosa, ma voi al vostro capezzale d’infermo aveste un principe. Anzi, voi potete pensare che il mio amore fosse amore scaltro, e chiamarlo astuzia. Fatelo pure, se volete. Se al cielo piace che voi mi trattiate male, 55 ebbene, dovete. Vorrete cavarmi gli occhi, questi occhi che mai vi guardarono, né mai vi guarderanno, neppure con un cipiglio?
HUBERTIo	ho giurato di farlo, e con ferri roventi devo bruciarli via.
ARTHUR	Ah, nessuno se non in questa età di ferro lo farebbe. 60 Il ferro stesso, per quanto arroventato, avvicinandosi a questi occhi berrebbe le mie lacrime, e spegnerebbe il suo sdegno infuocato proprio nella materia della mia innocenza; anzi, dopo di ciò si consumerebbe nella ruggine, solo per aver contenuto fuoco atto a nuocere al mio occhio. Siete voi più duro e ostinato del ferro battuto? Se un angelo fosse venuto da me e m’avesse detto che Hubert mi avrebbe cavato gli occhi, non gli avrei creduto; nessuna lingua tranne quella di Hubert. Hubert batte il piede
HUBERT	Venite avanti! Gli Sgherri vengono avanti Fate come vi comando.
ARTHUR	Oh, salvatemi, Hubert, salvatemi! I miei occhi son già spenti solo dagli sguardi feroci di questi uomini sanguinari.
HUBERT	(agli Sgherri) Datemi il ferro, dico, e legatelo qui. Prende il ferro
ARTHUR	Ahimè, che bisogno avete d’esser così rudi e violenti? Non mi divincolerò; starò immobile come pietra. Per amor di Dio, Hubert, non lasciate che mi leghino. Anzi, ascoltatemi, Hubert: cacciate via questi uomini, e io starò quieto come un agnello; non mi muoverò, non trasalirò, non dirò una parola, 80 né guarderò con ira il ferro. Cacciate via solo questi uomini, e io vi perdonerò, a qualunque tormento mi sottoponiate.
HUBERT	(agli Sgherri) Andate a stare là dentro. Lasciatemi solo con lui.
SGHERRO	Sono ben lieto d’esser lontano da una tale opera. 85
(didascalia)	Escono gli Sgherri
ARTHUR	Ahimè, ho dunque scacciato con rimproveri il mio amico! Egli ha uno sguardo severo, ma un cuore gentile. Fatelo tornare, ché la sua compassione possa dar vita alla vostra.
HUBERT	Su, fanciullo, preparati.
ARTHUR	Non c’è rimedio?
HUBERT	Nessuno, se non perdere gli occhi. 90
ARTHUR	O Dio, ci fosse solo un bruscolo nei vostri, un granello, un po’ di polvere, un moscerino, un capello vagante, una qualsiasi molestia in quel senso prezioso; allora, sentendo come piccole cose vi siano violente, il vostro vile intento vi parrebbe per forza orribile. 95
HUBERT	È questa la tua promessa? Via, tieni a freno la lingua!
ARTHUR	Hubert, la parola d’un paio di lingue non basterebbe a perorare per un paio d’occhi. Non fatemi tacere, non fatelo, Hubert; oppure, Hubert, se volete, tagliatemi la lingua, 100 purché io possa serbare gli occhi. Oh, risparmiate i miei occhi, fosse pure per nessun altro uso che per guardare voi. Ecco, in fede mia, lo strumento è freddo e non mi farebbe male.
HUBERT	Posso arroventarlo, fanciullo.
ARTHUR	No, in verità: il fuoco è morto di dolore, 105 essendo creato per conforto, all’esser usato in estremi non meritati. Guardate voi stesso. Non v’è malizia in questo carbone ardente; il fiato del cielo ne ha soffiato via lo spirito, e ha sparso sul suo capo ceneri di pentimento. II0
HUBERT	Ma col mio fiato posso ravvivarlo, fanciullo.
ARTHUR	E se lo fate, non farete che farlo arrossire e avvampare di vergogna per il vostro operato, Hubert. Anzi, forse vi schizzerà scintille negli occhi, e come un cane costretto a combattere azzannerà il padrone che l’aizza. Tutte le cose di cui vi servireste per farmi torto rifiutano il loro ufficio; solo a voi manca quella pietà che il feroce fuoco e il ferro concedono, creature famose per usi privi di pietà.
HUBERT	Bene, preparati a vivere. Non toccherò il tuo occhio per tutto il tesoro che tuo zio possiede. Pure ne feci giuramento, e mi ero proposto, fanciullo, di bruciarteli via con questo stesso ferro.
ARTHUR	Oh, ora somigliate a Hubert. Per tutto questo tempo eravate travestito.
HUBERT	Taci, non più. Addio. Tuo zio non deve sapere altro se non che sei morto. Riempirò questi accaniti spioni di falsi rapporti; e tu, bel fanciullo, dormi senza dubbio e sicuro che Hubert, per tutte le ricchezze del mondo, non ti farà offesa.
ARTHUR	O Dio! Vi ringrazio, Hubert.
HUBERT	Silenzio, non più. Vieni dentro con me di nascosto. Grande pericolo io affronto per te. Escono

Speaker	Line
(didascalia)	flourish. Enter King John, the Earls of Pembroke and Salisbury, and other lords. King John ascends the throne
KING JOHN	Here once again we sit, once again crowned, And looked upon, I hope, with cheerful eyes.
PEMBROKE	This ‘once again’, but that your highness pleased, Was once superfluous. You were crowned before, And that high royalty was ne‘er plucked off, The faiths of men ne’er stained with revolt; Fresh expectation troubled not the land With any longed-for change or better state.
SALISBURY	Therefore to be possessed with double pomp, To guard a title that was rich before, 10 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 fashioned robe.
PEMBROKE	When workmen strive to do better than well, They do confound their skill in covetousness; And oftentimes excusing of a fault Doth make the fault the worser by th’excuse; As patches set upon a little breach Discredit more in hiding of the fault Than did the fault before it was so patched.
SALISBURY	To this effect: before you were new-crowned We breathed our counsel, but it pleased your highness To overbear it; and we are all well pleased, Since all and every part of what we would Doth make a stand at what your highness will.
KING JOHN	Some reasons of this double coronation I have possessed you with, and think them strong. And more, more strong, when lesser is my fear I shall endue you with. Meantime but ask What you would have reformed 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 Doth move the murmuring lips of discontent To break into this dangerous argument: If what in rest you have, in right you hold, 55 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, 65 Counts it your weal he have his liberty.
(didascalia)	Enter Hubert
KING JOHN	Let it be so. I do commit his youth To your direction.—Hubert, what news with you? He takes Hubert aside
PEMBROKE	This is the man should do the bloody deed: He showed his warrant to a friend of mine. 70 The image of a wicked heinous fault Lives in his eye; that close aspect of his Does show the mood of a much troubled breast; And I do fearfully believe ’tis done What we so feared he had a charge to do. 75
SALISBURY	The colour of the King doth 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 thence 80 The foul corruption of a sweet child’s death.
KING JOHN	(coming forward) 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 deceased tonight.
SALISBURY	Indeed we feared 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 answered, either here or hence.
KING JOHN	Why do you bend such solemn brows on me? 90 Think you I bear the shears of destiny? Have I commandment on the pulse of life?
SALISBURY	It is apparent foul play, and ’tis 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 thee, And find th’inheritance of this poor child, His little kingdom of a forced grave. That blood which owed the breadth of all this isle Three foot of it doth hold. Bad world the while. 100 This must not be thus borne. This will break out To all our sorrows; and ere long, I doubt.
(didascalia)	Exeunt Pembroke, Salisbury, and other lords
KING JOHN	They burn in indignation. I repent. There is no sure foundation set on blood, No certain life achieved by others’ death. 105
(didascalia)	Enter a Messenger
KING JOHN	A fearful eye thou hast. Where is that blood That I have seen inhabit in those cheeks? So foul a sky clears not without a storm; Pour down thy 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 learned by them, For when you should be told they do prepare, The tidings comes that they are all arrived.
KING JOHN	O, where hath our intelligence been drunk? Where hath it slept? Where is my mother’s ear, That such an army could be drawn in France, And she not hear of it?
MESSENGER	My liege, her ear Is stopped 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 thy speed, dreadful Occasion; O, make a league with me till I have pleased My discontented peers. What, Mother dead? How wildly then walks my estate in France!— Under whose conduct came those powers of France That thou for truth giv’st out are landed here?
MESSENGER	Under the Dauphin.
(didascalia)	Enter the Bastard and Peter of Pomfret
KING JOHN	Thou hast made me giddy With these ill tidings. (To the Bastard) 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, 135 Then let the worst, unheard, fall on your head.
KING JOHN	Bear with me, cousin, for I was amazed 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 travelled hither through the land, I find the people strangely fantasied, Possessed 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 ere the next Ascension Day at noon 151 Your highness should deliver up your crown.
KING JOHN	Thou idle dreamer, wherefore didst thou so?
PETER OF POMFRET	Foreknowing that the truth will fall out so.
KING JOHN	Hubert, away with him! Imprison him,155 And on that day, at noon, whereon he says I shall yield up my crown, let him be hanged. Deliver him to safety, and return, For I must use thee.
(didascalia)	Exeunt Hubert and Peter of Pomfret
KING JOHN	O my gentle cousin, Hear’st thou the news abroad, who are arrived? 160
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 killed tonight On your suggestion.
KING JOHN	Gentle kinsman, go And thrust thyself into their companies. I have away to win 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 thy heels, And fly like thought from them to me again. 175
BASTARD	The spirit of the time shall teach me speed. Exit
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 thou he. 180
MESSENGER	With all my heart, my liege. Exit
KING JOHN	My mother dead!
(didascalia)	Enter Hubert
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; 190 And he that speaks doth grip 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 200 That were embattailèd and ranked in Kent. Another lean unwashed artificer Cuts off his tale, and talks of Arthur’s death.
KING JOHN	Why seek’st thou to possess me with these fears? Why urgest thou so oft young Arthur’s death? Thy hand hath murdered him. I had a mighty cause To wish him dead, but thou 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 perchance it frowns More upon humour than advised respect.
HUBERT	Here is your hand and seal for what I did. He shows a paper
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 oft the sight of means to do ill deeds 220 Make deeds ill done! Hadst not thou been by, A fellow by the hand of nature marked, Quoted, and signed to do a deed of shame, This murder had not come into my mind. But taking note of thy abhorred aspect, Finding thee fit for bloody villainy, Apt, liable to be employed in danger, I faintly broke with thee of Arthur’s death; And thou, to be endeared to a king, Made it no conscience to destroy a prince.
HUBERT	My lord—
KING JOHN	Hadst thou but shook thy head or made a pause When I spake darkly what I purposed, Or turned 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 thy fears might have wrought fears in me. But thou didst understand me by my signs, And didst in signs again parley with sin; Yea, without stop, didst let thy heart consent, And consequently thy 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 braved, Even at my gates, with ranks of foreign powers; Nay, in the body of this 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.
(didascalia)	Within this bosom never entered yet
HUBERT	The dreadful motion of a murderous thought; And you have slandered nature in my form, Which, howsoever rude exteriorly, Is yet the cover of a fairer mind Than to be butcher of an innocent child. 260
KING JOHN	Doth Arthur live? O, haste thee 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 thy feature, for my rage was blind, 265 And foul imaginary eyes of blood Presented thee more hideous than thou art. O,answer not, but to my closet bring The angry lords with all expedient haste. I conjure thee but slowly; run more fast.
(didascalia)	Exeunt severally

Chi parla	Battuta
(didascalia)	Squilli di trombe. Entrano Re Giovanni, i Conti di Pembroke e di Salisbury, e altri signori. Re Giovanni sale sul trono
RE GIOVANNI	Qui ancora una volta sediamo, ancora una volta incoronati, e guardati, spero, con occhi lieti.
PEMBROKE	Questo «ancora una volta», se non fosse piaciuto a vostra altezza, era una volta superflua. Voi eravate già stato incoronato, e quell’alta regalità non vi fu mai tolta, la fedeltà degli uomini mai macchiata di rivolta; nessuna nuova attesa turbava la terra con un mutamento agognato o con uno stato migliore.
SALISBURY	Perciò farsi rivestire d’una doppia pompa, guarnire un titolo che era già ricco, 10 indorare l’oro raffinato, dipingere il giglio, gettare un profumo sulla violetta, levigare il ghiaccio, o aggiungere un’altra tinta all’arcobaleno, o con la luce d’una candela cercar d’adornare il bell’occhio del cielo, è eccesso sprecato e ridicolo.
PEMBROKE	Se non fosse che il vostro regale piacere dev’esser fatto, quest’atto è come una vecchia storia raccontata di nuovo, e nell’ultima ripetizione molesta, essendo imposta in un tempo inopportuno.
SALISBURY	Con esso l’antico e ben noto volto della semplice vecchia usanza è molto sfigurato, e come un vento mutato per una vela fa virare il corso dei pensieri, sconcerta e spaventa la riflessione, rende infermo il retto giudizio, e sospetta la verità per aver rivestito una veste di così nuova foggia.
PEMBROKE	Quando gli artefici si sforzano di far meglio del bene, confondono la loro abilità nella cupidigia; e spesso lo scusare una colpa rende la colpa peggiore per via della scusa; come le toppe messe sopra un piccolo strappo screditano più, nascondendo il difetto, di quanto facesse il difetto prima d’esser così rattoppato.
SALISBURY	A questo effetto: prima che foste incoronato di nuovo esalammo il nostro consiglio, ma piacque a vostra altezza di sopraffarlo; e noi siamo tutti ben contenti, poiché tutto e ogni parte di ciò che vorremmo si arresta dinanzi a ciò che vostra altezza vuole.
RE GIOVANNI	Alcune ragioni di questa doppia incoronazione ve le ho già esposte, e le ritengo forti. E altre, più forti, quando minore sarà il mio timore, ve ne fornirò. Intanto chiedete pure ciò che vorreste riformato che non sia bene, e bene vedrete con quanta prontezza io ascolterò e concederò le vostre richieste.
PEMBROKE	Allora io, come colui che è la lingua di costoro per esprimere i propositi di tutti i loro cuori, tanto per me quanto per loro, ma soprattutto per la vostra sicurezza, alla quale io e loro volgiamo i nostri migliori studi, di cuore chiedo la liberazione di Arturo, la cui prigionia muove le labbra mormoranti del malcontento a prorompere in questo pericoloso ragionamento: se ciò che tenete in pace lo tenete per diritto, 55 perché mai i vostri timori—che, come si dice, seguono i passi del torto—dovrebbero indurvi a rinchiudere il vostro tenero congiunto, e a soffocare i suoi giorni in barbara ignoranza, e a negare alla sua giovinezza il ricco vantaggio d’un buon esercizio? Affinché i nemici del tempo non abbiano questo per adornare i loro pretesti, sia questa la nostra istanza, che voi ci avete invitati a fare: la sua libertà; la quale, per il nostro bene, non chiediamo più oltre di quanto la nostra prosperità, dipendendo da voi, 65 stimi vostra prosperità ch’egli abbia la sua libertà.
(didascalia)	Entra Hubert
RE GIOVANNI	Sia così. Affido la sua giovinezza alla vostra direzione.—Hubert, che nuove mi porti? Trae Hubert in disparte
PEMBROKE	Costui è l’uomo che doveva compiere l’atto sanguinoso: mostrò il suo mandato a un mio amico. 70 L’immagine d’una malvagia e atroce colpa vive nel suo occhio; quel suo aspetto chiuso rivela l’umore d’un petto assai turbato; e io con timore credo che sia stato fatto ciò che tanto temevamo egli avesse incarico di fare. 75
SALISBURY	Il colore del Re va e viene fra il suo proposito e la sua coscienza, come araldi posti fra due tremende battaglie. La sua passione è così matura che deve per forza scoppiare.
PEMBROKE	E quando scoppierà, temo che ne uscirà 80 la turpe corruzione della morte d’un dolce fanciullo.
RE GIOVANNI	(facendosi avanti) Non possiamo trattenere la forte mano della mortalità. Buoni signori, benché la mia volontà di concedere sia viva, l’istanza che chiedete è andata ed è morta. Egli ci dice che Arturo è trapassato questa notte.
SALISBURY	In verità temevamo che la sua malattia fosse insanabile.
PEMBROKE	In verità udimmo quanto fosse vicino alla morte, prima che il fanciullo stesso si sentisse malato. Di ciò si dovrà rispondere, o qui o altrove.
RE GIOVANNI	Perché volgete su di me fronti così severe? 90 Credete ch’io tenga le forbici del destino? Ho io comando sul polso della vita?
SALISBURY	È palese misfatto, ed è vergogna che la grandezza debba offrirlo così grossolanamente. Così vi prosperi nel vostro gioco; e così, addio.
PEMBROKE	Fermatevi ancora, Lord Salisbury; verrò con voi, a cercare l’eredità di questo povero fanciullo, il suo piccolo regno d’una fossa imposta. Quel sangue cui spettava l’ampiezza di tutta quest’isola tre piedi di essa ora lo contengono. Che mondo cattivo, intanto. 100 Questo non dev’essere sopportato così. Questo scoppierà a nostro comune dolore; e fra non molto, io lo temo.
(didascalia)	Escono Pembroke, Salisbury e gli altri signori
RE GIOVANNI	Ardono d’indignazione. Io mi pento. Non v’è fondamento sicuro posto sul sangue, nessuna vita certa conquistata con la morte altrui. 105
(didascalia)	Entra un Messaggero
RE GIOVANNI	Hai un occhio pauroso. Dov’è quel sangue che ho veduto abitare in codeste gote? Un cielo così torvo non si rasserena senza tempesta; rovescia il tuo maltempo: come vanno le cose in Francia?
MESSAGGERO	Dalla Francia all’Inghilterra. Mai una tal forza per alcun apparecchio straniero fu levata nel corpo d’un paese. Il modello della vostra rapidità è stato appreso da loro, ché quando si dovrebbe dirvi che si preparano, giunge la notizia che sono già tutti sbarcati.
RE GIOVANNI	Oh, dove s’è ubriacata la nostra informazione? Dove ha dormito? Dov’è l’orecchio di mia madre, che un tale esercito abbia potuto raccogliersi in Francia, ed essa non ne abbia udito nulla?
MESSAGGERO	Mio sovrano, il suo orecchio è turato di polvere. Il primo d’aprile morì la vostra nobile madre. E, a quanto odo, mio signore, Lady Costanza morì in delirio tre giorni prima; ma questo dalla lingua della voce pubblica l’ho udito per caso; se sia vero o falso non so.
RE GIOVANNI	Trattieni la tua corsa, terribile Sorte; oh, fa’ lega con me finché io non abbia contentato i miei pari scontenti. Come, mia madre morta? Quanto selvaggiamente vanno allora i miei possessi in Francia!— Sotto la guida di chi vennero quelle forze di Francia che tu dai per vero essere sbarcate qui?
MESSAGGERO	Sotto il Delfino.
(didascalia)	Entrano il Bastardo e Pietro di Pomfret
RE GIOVANNI	Tu m’hai fatto girare la testa con queste triste nuove. (Al Bastardo) Ebbene, che dice il mondo del tuo operato? Non cercare di riempirmi la testa d’altre cattive notizie, ché è già piena.
BASTARDO	Ma se voi temete d’udire il peggio, 135 allora lasciate che il peggio, non udito, vi cada sul capo.
RE GIOVANNI	Abbi pazienza con me, cugino, ché ero sbigottito sotto la marea; ma ora respiro di nuovo sopra il flutto, e posso dare udienza a qualunque lingua, parli di ciò che vuole.
BASTARDO	Come mi sia riuscita l’impresa fra i chierici lo diranno le somme che ho raccolto. Ma mentre viaggiavo verso qui attraverso il paese, trovo il popolo stranamente fantasticante, posseduto da voci, pieno di vani sogni, che non sa che cosa tema, ma pieno di paura. Ed ecco un profeta che ho condotto con me dalle strade di Pomfret, dove lo trovai con molte centinaia di persone alle calcagna; alle quali cantava, in rime rozze e aspre di suono, che prima del prossimo giorno dell’Ascensione, a mezzogiorno, 151 vostra altezza avrebbe consegnato la sua corona.
RE GIOVANNI	Vano sognatore, perché facesti così?
PIETRO DI POMFRET	Prevedendo che la verità cadrà così.
RE GIOVANNI	Hubert, portalo via! Imprigionalo, 155 e in quel giorno, a mezzogiorno, nel quale egli dice ch’io cederò la mia corona, sia impiccato. Consegnalo in custodia sicura, e torna, ché ho bisogno di te.
(didascalia)	Escono Hubert e Pietro di Pomfret
RE GIOVANNI	Oh mio gentile cugino, hai udito le nuove che corrono, chi è sbarcato? 160
BASTARDO	I Francesi, mio signore: le bocche degli uomini ne son piene. Inoltre, ho incontrato Lord Bigot e Lord Salisbury con occhi rossi come fuoco appena acceso, e altri ancora, che andavano a cercare la fossa di Arturo, il quale dicono sia stato ucciso questa notte per vostro suggerimento.
RE GIOVANNI	Gentile congiunto, va’ e insinuati nelle loro compagnie. Ho un modo per riconquistare il loro affetto. Conducili davanti a me.
BASTARDO	Andrò a cercarli.
RE GIOVANNI	Anzi, affrettati, il piede migliore innanzi. Oh, ch’io non abbia sudditi nemici mentre stranieri avversi spaventano le mie città con la tremenda pompa d’una gagliarda invasione! Sii Mercurio, metti penne ai tuoi talloni, e vola come il pensiero da loro di nuovo a me. 175
BASTARDO	Lo spirito del tempo m’insegnerà la prestezza. Esce
RE GIOVANNI	Parlato da nobile gentiluomo pieno di brio!— Seguilo, ché forse gli occorrerà qualche messaggero fra me e i pari, e sii tu quello. 180
MESSAGGERO	Con tutto il cuore, mio sovrano. Esce
RE GIOVANNI	Mia madre morta!
(didascalia)	Entra Hubert
HUBERT	Mio signore, dicono che questa notte si videro cinque lune, quattro fisse, e la quinta girava vorticando intorno alle altre quattro con moto meraviglioso.
RE GIOVANNI	Cinque lune?
HUBERT	Vecchi e vecchie per le strade ne fanno profezie pericolose. La morte del giovane Arturo è sulle bocche di tutti, e quando parlano di lui scuotono il capo, e si bisbigliano l’un l’altro all’orecchio; 190 e chi parla afferra il polso di chi ascolta, mentre chi ascolta fa gesti di spavento, con la fronte corrugata, con cenni del capo, con occhi stralunati. Vidi un fabbro star fermo col martello, così, mentre il suo ferro si raffreddava sull’incudine, con la bocca aperta a inghiottire le nuove d’un sarto il quale, con le forbici e il metro in mano, stando in pantofole che la sua svelta fretta aveva infilato per errore ai piedi scambiati, raccontava di molte migliaia di Francesi guerrieri 200 schierati in ordine di battaglia nel Kent. Un altro artigiano magro e sudicio gli taglia il racconto, e parla della morte di Arturo.
RE GIOVANNI	Perché cerchi di riempirmi di questi timori? Perché insisti tanto spesso sulla morte del giovane Arturo? La tua mano l’ha assassinato. Io avevo una potente ragione per volerlo morto, ma tu non ne avevi alcuna per ucciderlo.
HUBERT	Nessuna, mio signore? Come, non m’avete voi istigato?
RE GIOVANNI	È la maledizione dei re esser serviti da schiavi che prendono i loro umori per un mandato a irrompere nella sanguinosa casa della vita, e all’ammiccare dell’autorità intendono una legge, e credono di conoscere il senso d’una pericolosa maestà, quando forse essa s’acciglia più per umore che per meditato giudizio.
HUBERT	Ecco la vostra mano e il vostro sigillo per ciò che feci. Mostra un foglio
RE GIOVANNI	Oh, quando l’ultimo conto fra cielo e terra dovrà esser fatto, allora questa mano e questo sigillo testimonieranno contro di noi a nostra dannazione! Quante volte la vista dei mezzi per compiere atti malvagi 220 fa che gli atti si compiano! Se tu non fossi stato lì, un uomo segnato dalla mano della natura, notato e marcato per compiere un’azione di vergogna, questo assassinio non mi sarebbe venuto in mente. Ma osservando il tuo aspetto aborrito, trovandoti adatto a una sanguinosa scelleratezza, pronto, disposto a essere impiegato nel pericolo, io accennai fiaccamente con te alla morte di Arturo; e tu, per farti caro a un re, non ti facesti scrupolo di distruggere un principe.
HUBERT	Mio signore—
RE GIOVANNI	Se solo avessi scosso il capo o fatto una pausa quando oscuramente esponevo il mio disegno, o volto un occhio di dubbio sul mio viso, come per invitarmi a dire il mio pensiero in parole esplicite, una profonda vergogna m’avrebbe reso muto, m’avrebbe fatto tacere, e codesti tuoi timori avrebbero potuto destare timori in me. Ma tu mi comprendesti dai miei segni, e con segni a tua volta parlamentasti col peccato; anzi, senza esitare, lasciasti che il tuo cuore acconsentisse, e di conseguenza la tua rozza mano compisse l’atto che entrambe le nostre lingue stimavano vile a nominarsi. Fuori dalla mia vista, e non mi vedere mai più! I miei nobili mi abbandonano, e il mio stato è sfidato, proprio alle mie porte, da schiere di forze straniere; anzi, nel corpo di questa terra di carne, questo regno, questo confine di sangue e di respiro, regnano l’ostilità e il tumulto civile fra la mia coscienza e la morte di mio nipote.
HUBERT	Armatevi contro i vostri altri nemici; io farò una pace fra la vostra anima e voi. Il giovane Arturo è vivo. Questa mia mano è ancora una mano vergine e innocente, non dipinta con le macchie cremisi del sangue.
(didascalia)	Dentro questo petto non entrò mai ancora
HUBERT	il tremendo moto d’un pensiero omicida; e voi avete calunniato la natura nella mia figura, la quale, per quanto rozza all’esterno, è pure la coperta d’un animo più bello che non sia quello d’un macellaio d’un innocente fanciullo. 260
RE GIOVANNI	Arturo vive? Oh, affrettati dai pari; getta questa notizia sulla loro ira accesa, e rendili docili alla loro obbedienza. Perdona il commento che la mia passione fece sul tuo aspetto, ché la mia rabbia era cieca, 265 e turpi occhi immaginari di sangue ti presentarono più orribile di quel che sei. Oh, non rispondere, ma conduci nel mio gabinetto i signori adirati con tutta la possibile fretta. Ti scongiuro con troppa lentezza; corri più veloce.
(didascalia)	Escono da parti opposte

Speaker	Line
(didascalia)	Enter Arthur Duke of Brittaine on the walls, disguised as a ship-boy
ARTHUR	The wall is high, and yet will I leap down. Good ground, be pitiful, and hurt me not. There’s few or none do know me; if they did, This ship-boy’s semblance hath disguised me quite. I am afraid, and yet I’ll venture it. If I get down and do not break my limbs, I’ll find a thousand shifts to get away. As good to die and go, as die and stay. He leaps down O me! My uncle’s spirit is in these stones. Heaven take my soul, and England keep my bones! I0 He dies Enter the Earls of Pembroke and Salisbury, and Lord Bigot
SALISBURY	Lords, I will meet him at Saint Edmundsbury. It is our safety, and we must embrace This gentle offer of the perilous time.
PEMBROKE	Who brought that letter from the Cardinal?
SALISBURY	The Count Melun, a noble lord of France, Who’s private with me of the Dauphin’s love; ’Tis much more general than these lines import.
BIGOT	Tomorrow morning let us meet him then.
SALISBURY	Or rather, then set forward, for ’twill be Two long days’journey, lords, or ere we meet. 20
(didascalia)	Enter the Bastard
BASTARD	Once more today well met, distempered lords. The King by me requests your presence straight.
SALISBURY	The King hath dispossessed himself of us. We will not line his thin bestainèd cloak With our pure honours, nor attend the foot 25 That leaves the print of blood where’er it walks. Return and tell him so; we know the worst.
BASTARD	Whate’er you think, good words I think were best.
SALISBURY	Our griefs and not our manners reason now.
BASTARD	But there is little reason in your grief. Therefore ’twere reason you had manners now.
PEMBROKE	Sir, sir, impatience hath his privilege.
BASTARD	’Tis true—to hurt his master, no man else.
SALISBURY	This is the prison. He sees Arthur’s body What is he lies here?
PEMBROKE	O death, made proud with pure and princely beauty! The earth had not a hole to hide this deed. 36
SALISBURY	Murder, as hating what himself hath done, Doth lay it open to urge on revenge.
BIGOT	Or when he doomed this beauty to a grave, Found it too precious-princely fora grave. 40
SALISBURY	(to the Bastard) Sir Richard, what think you? You have beheld. Or have you read or heard; or could you think, Or do you almost think, although you see, That you do see? Could thought, without this object, Form such another? This is the very top, The height, the crest, or crest unto the crest, Of murder’s arms; this is the bloodiest shame, The wildest savagery, the vilest stroke That ever wall-eyed wrath or staring rage Presented to the tears of soft remorse.
PEMBROKE	All murders past do stand excused in this, And this, so sole and so unmatchable, Shall give a holiness, a purity, To the yet-unbegotten sin of times, And prove a deadly bloodshed but a jest, 55 Exampled by this heinous spectacle.
BASTARD	It is a damned and a bloody work, The graceless action of a heavy hand— If that it be the work of any hand.
SALISBURY	If that it be the work of any hand? 60 We had a kind of light what would ensue: It is the shameful work of Hubert’s hand, The practice and the purpose of the King; From whose obedience I forbid my soul, Kneeling before this ruin of sweet life, 65 And breathing to his breathless excellence The incense of a vow, a holy vow, Never to taste the pleasures of the world, Never to be infected with delight, Nor conversant with ease and idleness, 70 Till I have set a glory to this hand By giving it the worship of revenge.
PEMBROKE	and BIGOT Our souls religiously confirm thy words.
(didascalia)	Enter Hubert
HUBERT	Lords, I am hot with haste in seeking you. Arthur doth live; the King hath sent for you.
SALISBURY	O,he is bold, and blushes not at death!— Avaunt, thou hateful villain, get thee gone I
HUBERT	I am no villain.
SALISBURY	Must I rob the law? He draws his sword
BASTARD	Your sword is bright, sir; put it up again.
SALISBURY	Not till I sheathe it in a murderer’s skin.
HUBERT	(drawing his sword) Stand back, Lord Salisbury, stand back, I say! By heaven, I think my sword’s as sharp as yours. I would not have you, lord, forget yourself, Nor tempt the danger of my true defence, Lest I, by marking of your rage, forget Your worth, your greatness and nobility.
BIGOT	Out, dunghill! Dar’st thou brave a nobleman?
HUBERT	Not for my life; but yet I dare defend My innocent life against an emperor.
SALISBURY	Thou art a murderer.
HUBERT	Do not prove me so; Yet I am none. Whose tongue soe’er speaks false, Not truly speaks; who speaks not truly, lies.
PEMBROKE	Cut him to pieces!
BASTARD	(drawing his sword) Keep the peace, I say I
SALISBURY	Stand by, or I shall gall you, Falconbridge.
BASTARD	Thou wert better gall the devil, Salisbury. If thou but frown on me, or stir thy foot, Or teach thy hasty spleen to do me shame, I’ll strike thee dead. Put up thy sword betime, Or I’ll so maul you and your toasting-iron That you shall think the devil is come from hell. 100
BIGOT	What wilt thou do, renowned Falconbridge, Second a villain and a murderer?
HUBERT	Lord Bigot, I am none.
BIGOT	Who killed this prince?
HUBERT	’Tis not an hour since I left him well. I honoured him, I loved him, and will weep My date of life out for his sweet life’s loss.
SALISBURY	Trust not those cunning waters of his eyes, For villainy is not without such rheum, And he, long traded in it, makes it seem Like rivers of remorse and innocency. II0 Away with me, all you whose souls abhor Th’uncleanly savours of a slaughter-house, For I am stifled with this smell of sin.
BIGOT	Away toward Bury, to the Dauphin there.
PEMBROKE	There, tell the King, he may enquire us out. 115
(didascalia)	Exeunt Pembroke, Salisbury, and Bigot
BASTARD	Here’s a good world! Knew you of this fair work? Beyond the infinite and boundless reach Of mercy, if thou didst this deed of death Art thou damned, Hubert.
HUBERT	Do but hear me, sir.
BASTARD	Ha! I’ll tell thee what: Thou’rt damned as black—nay nothing is so black— Thou art more deep damned than Prince Lucifer; There is not yet so ugly a fiend of hell As thou shalt be if thou didst kill this child.
HUBERT	Upon my soul—
BASTARD	If thou didst but consent To this most cruel act, do but despair; And if thou want’st a cord, the smallest thread That ever spider twisted from her womb Will serve to strangle thee; a rush will be a beam To hang thee on; or wouldst thou drown thyself, Put but a little water in a spoon And it shall be, as all the ocean, Enough to stifle such a villain up. I do suspect thee very grievously.
HUBERT	If I in act, consent, or sin of thought Be guilty of the stealing that sweet breath Which was embounded in this beauteous clay, Let hell want pains enough to torture me. I left him well.
BASTARD	Go bear him in thine arms. I am amazed, methinks, and lose my way Among the thorns and dangers of this world. Hubert takes up Arthur in his arms How easy dost thou take all England up I From forth this morsel of dead royalty, The life, the right, and truth of all this realm Is fled to heaven, and England now is left To tug and scramble, and to part by th’ teeth The unowed interest of proud swelling state. Now for the bare-picked bone of majesty Doth dogged war bristle his angry crest, And snarleth in the gentle eyes of peace; Now powers from home and discontents at home Meet in one line, and vast confusion waits, As doth a raven on a sick-fall’n beast, The imminent decay of wrested pomp. 155 Now happy he whose cloak and cincture can Hold out this tempest. Bear away that child, And follow me with speed. I’ll to the King. A thousand businesses are brief in hand, And heaven itself doth frown upon the land.
(didascalia)	Exeunt severally
(didascalia)	5.1 Flourish.Enter King John and Cardinal Pandolf, with attendants
(didascalia)	KING JOHN giving Pandolf the crown
BASTARD	Thus have I yielded up into your hand The circle of my glory. PANDOLF(giving back the crown)Take again From this my hand, as holding of the Pope, Your sovereign greatness and authority.
KING JOHN	Now keep your holy word: go meet the French, And from his Holiness use all your power To stop their marches ‘fore we are enflamed. Our discontented counties do revolt, Our people quarrel with obedience, Swearing allegiance and the love of soul To stranger blood, to foreign royalty. This inundation of mistempered humour Rests by you only to be qualified. Then pause not, for the present time’s so sick That present med’cine must be ministered, Or overthrow incurable ensues.
PANDOLF	It was my breath that blew this tempest up, Upon your stubborn usage of the Pope, But since you are a gentle convertite, My tongue shall hush again this storm of war And make fair weather in your blust’ring land. On this Ascension Day, remember well, Upon your oath of service to the Pope, Go I to make the French lay down their arms.
(didascalia)	Exeunt all but King John
KING JOHN	Is this Ascension Day Did not the prophet Say that before Ascension Day at noon My crown I should give off? Even so I have. I did suppose it should be on constraint, But, heaven be thanked, it is but voluntary.
(didascalia)	Enter Bastard
BASTARD	All Kent hath yielded; nothing there holds out But Dover Castle. London hath received, Like a kind host, the Dauphin and his powers. Your nobles will not hear you, but are gone To offer service to your enemy; And wild amazement hurries up and down The little number of your doubtful friends.
KING JOHN	Would not my lords return to me again After they heard young Arthur was alive?
BASTARD	They found him dead and cast into the streets, An empty casket, where the jewel of life By some damned hand was robbed and ta’en away.
KING JOHN	That villain Hubert told me he did live.
BASTARD	Soon my soul he did, for aught he knew. But wherefore do you droop? Why look you sad? Be great in act as you have been in thought. Let not the world see fear and sad distrust Govern the motion of a kingly eye. Be stirring as the time, be fire with fire; Threaten the threat’ner, and outface the brow Of bragging horror. So shall inferior eyes, That borrow their behaviours from the great, Grow great by your example, and put on The dauntless spirit of resolution. Away, and glisten like the god of war When he intendeth to become the field. Show boldness and aspiring confidence. What, shall they seek the lion in his den And fright him there, and make him tremble there? O, let it not be said I Forage, and run To meet displeasure farther from the doors, And grapple with him ere he come so nigh.
KING JOHN	The legate of the Pope hath been with me, And I have made a happy peace with him, And he hath promised to dismiss the powers Led by the Dauphin.
BASTARD	O inglorious league! Shall we, upon the footing of our land, Send fair-play orders, and make compromise, Insinuation, parley, and base truce To arms invasive? Shall a beardless boy, A cockered silken wanton, brave our fields And flesh his spirit in a warlike soil, Mocking the air with colours idly spread, And find no check? Let us, my liege, to arms! Perchance the Cardinal cannot make your peace, Or if he do, let it at least be said They saw we had a purpose of defence.
KING JOHN	Have thou the ordering of this present time.
(didascalia)	Away, then, with good courage! AsideYet I know
BASTARD	Our party may well meet a prouder foe. Exeunt

Chi parla	Battuta
(didascalia)	Entra Arturo Duca di Bretagna sulle mura, travestito da mozzo di nave
ARTHUR	Il muro è alto, e pure vi salterò giù. Buona terra, abbi pietà, e non farmi male. Pochi o nessuno mi conoscono; e se pur mi conoscessero, quest’aspetto di mozzo di nave m’ha travestito del tutto. Ho paura, e pure m’arrischierò. Se scendo e non mi rompo le membra, troverò mille espedienti per fuggire. Tanto vale morire e andarsene, quanto morire e restare. Salta giù Ahimè! Lo spirito di mio zio è in queste pietre. Il cielo accolga la mia anima, e l’Inghilterra serbi le mie ossa! I0 Muore Entrano i Conti di Pembroke e di Salisbury, e Lord Bigot
SALISBURY	Signori, lo incontrerò a Saint Edmundsbury. È la nostra salvezza, e dobbiamo abbracciare questa gentile offerta d’un tempo pericoloso.
PEMBROKE	Chi ha recato quella lettera dal Cardinale?
SALISBURY	Il Conte Melun, un nobile signore di Francia, che in privato mi parla dell’affetto del Delfino; è assai più largo di quanto queste righe non dicano.
BIGOT	Domattina, dunque, andiamo a incontrarlo.
SALISBURY	O piuttosto, mettiamoci in cammino allora, ché sarà un viaggio di due lunghi giorni, signori, prima che c’incontriamo. 20
(didascalia)	Entra il Bastardo
BASTARDO	Ancora una volta oggi ben trovati, signori inaspriti. Il Re per mio mezzo richiede subito la vostra presenza.
SALISBURY	Il Re s’è spogliato di noi. Non fodereremo il suo lacero mantello macchiato coi nostri puri onori, né seguiremo il piede 25 che lascia l’impronta del sangue dovunque cammini. Torna e diglielo; noi conosciamo il peggio.
BASTARDO	Qualunque cosa pensiate, buone parole sarebbero, credo, le migliori.
SALISBURY	Ora ragionano i nostri dolori, non le nostre maniere.
BASTARDO	Ma c’è poca ragione nel vostro dolore. Perciò sarebbe ragionevole che ora aveste maniere.
PEMBROKE	Signore, signore, l’impazienza ha il suo privilegio.
BASTARDO	È vero—di nuocere al suo padrone, e a nessun altro.
SALISBURY	Questa è la prigione. Vede il corpo di Arturo Chi è costui che giace qui?
PEMBROKE	Oh morte, insuperbita di pura e principesca bellezza! La terra non ebbe una fossa per nascondere quest’atto. 36
SALISBURY	L’assassinio, come odiando ciò ch’esso stesso ha compiuto, lo espone alla vista per aizzare la vendetta.
BIGOT	O forse, quando condannò questa bellezza a una fossa, la trovò troppo preziosamente regale per una fossa. 40
SALISBURY	(al Bastardo) Sir Riccardo, che ne pensate? Voi avete veduto. O avete letto o udito; o potreste pensare, o quasi pensate, benché vediate, di vedere davvero? Potrebbe il pensiero, senza quest’oggetto, foggiarne un altro simile? Questo è la cima stessa, l’altezza, il cimiero, o il cimiero sopra il cimiero, dello stemma dell’assassinio; questa è la più sanguinosa vergogna, la più selvaggia ferocia, il colpo più vile che mai ira dagli occhi biechi o rabbia sbarrata abbia offerto alle lacrime del tenero rimorso.
PEMBROKE	Tutti gli assassinii passati appaiono scusati in questo, e questo, così unico e così incomparabile, darà una santità, una purezza, al peccato non ancor generato dei tempi, e farà d’un mortale spargimento di sangue un semplice scherzo, 55 al paragone di quest’orrendo spettacolo.
BASTARDO	È un’opera dannata e sanguinosa, l’azione senza grazia d’una mano pesante— se pure è l’opera di una qualche mano.
SALISBURY	Se pure è l’opera di una qualche mano? 60 Avemmo una specie di lume di ciò che sarebbe seguito: è la vergognosa opera della mano di Hubert, la macchinazione e il disegno del Re; alla cui obbedienza io sottraggo la mia anima, inginocchiandomi davanti a questa rovina di dolce vita, 65 ed esalando alla sua eccellenza senza respiro l’incenso d’un voto, d’un santo voto, di non gustare mai i piaceri del mondo, di non lasciarmi mai contagiare dal diletto, né praticare l’agio e l’ozio, 70 finché non abbia dato gloria a questa mano consacrandola al culto della vendetta.
PEMBROKE	e BIGOT Le nostre anime confermano religiosamente le tue parole.
(didascalia)	Entra Hubert
HUBERT	Signori, sono acceso dalla fretta di cercarvi. Arturo è vivo; il Re vi manda a chiamare.
SALISBURY	Oh, com’è sfrontato, e non arrossisce davanti alla morte!— Via, odioso scellerato, vattene!
HUBERT	Non sono uno scellerato.
SALISBURY	Devo dunque derubare la legge? Sguaina la spada
BASTARDO	La vostra spada è lucente, signore; rimettetela nel fodero.
SALISBURY	Non prima d’averla inguainata nella pelle d’un assassino.
HUBERT	(sguainando la spada) Indietro, Lord Salisbury, indietro, vi dico! Per il cielo, credo che la mia spada sia affilata quanto la vostra. Non vorrei, signore, che vi dimenticaste di voi stesso, né che tentaste il pericolo della mia leale difesa, affinché io, badando alla vostra rabbia, non dimentichi il vostro valore, la vostra grandezza e nobiltà.
BIGOT	Via, letamaio! Osi tu sfidare un nobile?
HUBERT	Non per la mia vita; ma pure oso difendere la mia vita innocente contro un imperatore.
SALISBURY	Tu sei un assassino.
HUBERT	Non costringetemi a diventarlo; pure io non lo sono. Chiunque la lingua che parla il falso, non parla il vero; chi non parla il vero, mente.
PEMBROKE	Fatelo a pezzi!
BASTARDO	(sguainando la spada) State in pace, vi dico!
SALISBURY	Fatti da parte, o ti pungerò, Falconbridge.
BASTARDO	Faresti meglio a pungere il diavolo, Salisbury. Se solo mi guardi torvo, o muovi un piede, o insegni alla tua bile precipitosa a farmi oltraggio, ti stendo morto. Rimetti in tempo la tua spada, o vi concerò tanto male, te e il tuo spiedo da arrosto, che crederai giunto il diavolo dall’inferno. 100
BIGOT	Che vuoi fare, rinomato Falconbridge, spalleggiare uno scellerato e un assassino?
HUBERT	Lord Bigot, io non lo sono.
BIGOT	Chi uccise questo principe?
HUBERT	Non è passata un’ora da quando lo lasciai bene. L’onoravo, l’amavo, e piangerò per tutto il termine della mia vita la perdita della sua dolce vita.
SALISBURY	Non fidatevi di quelle astute acque dei suoi occhi, ché la scelleratezza non è priva di simile umore, ed egli, lungamente esercitato in essa, lo fa parere come fiumi di rimorso e d’innocenza. II0 Venite via con me, voi tutti le cui anime aborrono i sozzi odori d’un mattatoio, ché io sono soffocato da questo puzzo di peccato.
BIGOT	Via, verso Bury, là dal Delfino.
PEMBROKE	Là, ditelo al Re, potrà venirci a cercare. 115
(didascalia)	Escono Pembroke, Salisbury e Bigot
BASTARDO	Ecco un bel mondo! Sapevate voi di questa bella opera? Al di là della portata infinita e sconfinata della misericordia, se compisti quest’atto di morte sei dannato, Hubert.
HUBERT	Ascoltatemi solo, signore.
BASTARDO	Ah! Ti dirò io che cosa: sei dannato così nero—anzi nulla è tanto nero— sei dannato più profondamente del Principe Lucifero; non v’è ancora all’inferno demonio così brutto quale tu sarai, se uccidesti questo fanciullo.
HUBERT	Sull’anima mia—
BASTARDO	Se soltanto acconsentisti a quest’atto crudelissimo, dispera pure; e se ti manca una corda, il più sottile filo che mai ragno abbia torto dal suo ventre basterà a strangolarti; un giunco sarà una trave a cui appenderti; o se volessi annegarti, metti solo un po’ d’acqua in un cucchiaio e sarà, come tutto l’oceano, abbastanza per soffocare un tale scellerato. Io ti sospetto assai gravemente.
HUBERT	Se in atto, in consenso, o in peccato di pensiero sono colpevole d’aver rubato quel dolce respiro che era racchiuso in questa bella creta, manchino all’inferno pene sufficienti a torturarmi. Io lo lasciai bene.
BASTARDO	Va’, portalo tra le tue braccia. Sono sbigottito, mi pare, e smarrisco la via fra le spine e i pericoli di questo mondo. Hubert solleva Arturo tra le braccia Come agevolmente tu sollevi tutta l’Inghilterra! Da questo brandello di regalità morta la vita, il diritto e la verità di tutto questo regno sono fuggiti in cielo, e l’Inghilterra ora è lasciata a strattonare e ad azzuffarsi, e a spartirsi coi denti la proprietà senza padrone d’uno stato gonfio di superbia. Ora, per l’osso spolpato della maestà, la guerra accanita rizza la sua cresta furiosa, e ringhia negli occhi miti della pace; ora schiere lontane dalla patria e malcontenti nella patria s’incontrano sulla stessa linea, e una vasta confusione attende, come fa un corvo su una bestia caduta inferma, l’imminente rovina d’una pompa usurpata. 155 Ora è felice colui il cui mantello e la cui cintura possono reggere a questa tempesta. Portate via quel fanciullo, e seguitemi in fretta. Io andrò dal Re. Mille faccende urgono per le mani, e il cielo stesso s’acciglia sopra questa terra.
(didascalia)	Escono da parti opposte

Speaker	Line
(didascalia)	Flourish.Enter King John and Cardinal Pandolf, with attendants
(didascalia)	KING JOHN giving Pandolf the crown
BASTARD	Thus have I yielded up into your hand The circle of my glory. PANDOLF(giving back the crown)Take again From this my hand, as holding of the Pope, Your sovereign greatness and authority.
KING JOHN	Now keep your holy word: go meet the French, And from his Holiness use all your power To stop their marches ‘fore we are enflamed. Our discontented counties do revolt, Our people quarrel with obedience, Swearing allegiance and the love of soul To stranger blood, to foreign royalty. This inundation of mistempered humour Rests by you only to be qualified. Then pause not, for the present time’s so sick That present med’cine must be ministered, Or overthrow incurable ensues.
PANDOLF	It was my breath that blew this tempest up, Upon your stubborn usage of the Pope, But since you are a gentle convertite, My tongue shall hush again this storm of war And make fair weather in your blust’ring land. On this Ascension Day, remember well, Upon your oath of service to the Pope, Go I to make the French lay down their arms.
(didascalia)	Exeunt all but King John
KING JOHN	Is this Ascension Day Did not the prophet Say that before Ascension Day at noon My crown I should give off? Even so I have. I did suppose it should be on constraint, But, heaven be thanked, it is but voluntary.
(didascalia)	Enter Bastard
BASTARD	All Kent hath yielded; nothing there holds out But Dover Castle. London hath received, Like a kind host, the Dauphin and his powers. Your nobles will not hear you, but are gone To offer service to your enemy; And wild amazement hurries up and down The little number of your doubtful friends.
KING JOHN	Would not my lords return to me again After they heard young Arthur was alive?
BASTARD	They found him dead and cast into the streets, An empty casket, where the jewel of life By some damned hand was robbed and ta’en away.
KING JOHN	That villain Hubert told me he did live.
BASTARD	Soon my soul he did, for aught he knew. But wherefore do you droop? Why look you sad? Be great in act as you have been in thought. Let not the world see fear and sad distrust Govern the motion of a kingly eye. Be stirring as the time, be fire with fire; Threaten the threat’ner, and outface the brow Of bragging horror. So shall inferior eyes, That borrow their behaviours from the great, Grow great by your example, and put on The dauntless spirit of resolution. Away, and glisten like the god of war When he intendeth to become the field. Show boldness and aspiring confidence. What, shall they seek the lion in his den And fright him there, and make him tremble there? O, let it not be said I Forage, and run To meet displeasure farther from the doors, And grapple with him ere he come so nigh.
KING JOHN	The legate of the Pope hath been with me, And I have made a happy peace with him, And he hath promised to dismiss the powers Led by the Dauphin.
BASTARD	O inglorious league! Shall we, upon the footing of our land, Send fair-play orders, and make compromise, Insinuation, parley, and base truce To arms invasive? Shall a beardless boy, A cockered silken wanton, brave our fields And flesh his spirit in a warlike soil, Mocking the air with colours idly spread, And find no check? Let us, my liege, to arms! Perchance the Cardinal cannot make your peace, Or if he do, let it at least be said They saw we had a purpose of defence.
KING JOHN	Have thou the ordering of this present time.
(didascalia)	Away, then, with good courage! AsideYet I know
BASTARD	Our party may well meet a prouder foe. Exeunt

Chi parla	Battuta
(didascalia)	Squilli di trombe. Entrano Re Giovanni e il Cardinale Pandolfo, col seguito
(didascalia)	RE GIOVANNI dando a Pandolfo la corona
BASTARDO	Così ho rimesso nella vostra mano il cerchio della mia gloria. PANDOLFO (restituendo la corona) Riprendete da questa mia mano, che la tiene dal Papa, la vostra sovrana grandezza e autorità.
RE GIOVANNI	Ora mantenete la vostra santa parola: andate incontro ai Francesi, e da parte di Sua Santità usate tutto il vostro potere per arrestare le loro marce prima che c’infiammiamo. Le nostre contee malcontente si ribellano, il nostro popolo litiga con l’obbedienza, giurando fedeltà e l’amore dell’anima a un sangue straniero, a una regalità forestiera. Questa inondazione di umore stemperato può esser calmata da voi soltanto. Non indugiate dunque, ché il tempo presente è così infermo che va somministrata una medicina immediata, o ne segue una rovina incurabile.
PANDOLFO	Fu il mio fiato a sollevare questa tempesta, per il vostro ostinato trattamento del Papa, ma poiché voi siete un mite convertito, la mia lingua acquieterà di nuovo questa tempesta di guerra e farà bel tempo nella vostra terra sconvolta. In questo giorno dell’Ascensione, ricordatelo bene, in virtù del vostro giuramento di servizio al Papa, io vado a far deporre le armi ai Francesi.
(didascalia)	Escono tutti tranne Re Giovanni
RE GIOVANNI	È questo il giorno dell’Ascensione? Non disse il profeta che prima del giorno dell’Ascensione, a mezzogiorno, avrei deposto la mia corona? Così appunto ho fatto. Supponevo che sarebbe stato per costrizione, ma, grazie al cielo, è stato soltanto volontario.
(didascalia)	Entra il Bastardo
BASTARDO	Tutto il Kent s’è arreso; là nulla più resiste tranne il Castello di Dover. Londra ha accolto, come un ospite cortese, il Delfino e le sue schiere. I vostri nobili non vogliono ascoltarvi, ma sono andati a offrire i loro servigi al vostro nemico; e un selvaggio sbigottimento fa correre qua e là lo scarso numero dei vostri amici incerti.
RE GIOVANNI	Non tornerebbero da me i miei signori dopo aver udito che il giovane Arturo era vivo?
BASTARDO	Lo hanno trovato morto e gettato per le strade, uno scrigno vuoto, donde il gioiello della vita da qualche mano dannata fu rubato e portato via.
RE GIOVANNI	Quello scellerato di Hubert mi disse ch’egli viveva.
BASTARDO	Sull’anima mia, così credeva, per quanto ne sapeva. Ma perché vi accasciate? Perché avete l’aria mesta? Siate grande nell’atto come lo siete stato nel pensiero. Non lasciate che il mondo veda la paura e la triste diffidenza governare il moto d’un occhio regale. Siate mobile come il tempo, siate fuoco contro il fuoco; minacciate chi minaccia, e affrontate a viso aperto la fronte d’un orrore millantatore. Così gli occhi inferiori, che prendono a prestito il contegno dai grandi, diverranno grandi al vostro esempio, e rivestiranno l’intrepido spirito della risoluzione. Via, e risplendete come il dio della guerra quando intende farsi lui stesso il campo. Mostrate audacia e fiducia ambiziosa. Come, dovranno essi cercare il leone nella sua tana e là spaventarlo, e là farlo tremare? Oh, non si dica questo! Uscite a foraggiare, e correte a incontrare il disastro più lontano dalle porte, e ad afferrarlo prima ch’esso giunga così vicino.
RE GIOVANNI	Il legato del Papa è stato con me, e io ho fatto con lui una felice pace, ed egli ha promesso di congedare le schiere guidate dal Delfino.
BASTARDO	Oh lega senza gloria! Dovremo noi, sul suolo stesso della nostra terra, mandare ordini di leale contesa, e fare compromessi, insinuazioni, parlamenti e vili tregue ad armi invasori? Un ragazzo imberbe, un vezzeggiato damerino di seta, sfiderà i nostri campi e affilerà il suo spirito in un suolo guerriero, schernendo l’aria con bandiere spiegate a vuoto, e non troverà freno? Alle armi, mio sovrano! Forse il Cardinale non potrà farvi la pace, o se pure la fa, si dica almeno che essi videro in noi il proposito di difenderci.
RE GIOVANNI	Abbi tu il governo di questo presente tempo.
(didascalia)	Via, dunque, con buon coraggio! A parteEppure so
BASTARDO	che la nostra parte può ben affrontare un nemico più superbo. Escono

Speaker	Line
(didascalia)	Enter, marching in arms, Louis the Dauphin, the Earl off Salisbury, Count Melun, the Earl of Pembroke, and Lord Bigot, with soldiers
LOUIS THE DAUPHIN	My Lord Melun, let this be copied out, And keep it safe for our remembrance. Return the precedent to these lords again, That having our fair order written down, Both they and we, perusing o’er these notes, May know wherefore we took the sacrament And keep our faiths firm and inviolable.
SALISBURY	Upon our sides it never shall be broken. And, noble Dauphin, albeit we swear A voluntary zealand an unurgéd faith To your proceedings, yet believe me, Prince, I am not glad that such a sore of time Should seek a plaster by contemned revolt, And heal the inveterate canker of one wound By making many. O,it grieves my soul That I must draw this metal from my side To be a widow-maker! O, and there Where honourable rescue and defence Cries out upon the name of Salisbury I But such is the infection of the time, That for the health and physic of our right, We cannot deal but with the very hand Of stern injustice and confused wrong. And is’t not pity, O my grieved friends, That we the sons and children of this isle Was born to see so sad an hour as this, Wherein we step after a stranger, march Upon her gentle bosom, and fill up Her enemies’ ranks? I must withdraw and weep Upon the spot of this enforced cause— To grace the gentry of a land remote, And follow unacquainted colours here. What, here? O nation, that thou couldst remove; That Neptune’s arms who clippeth thee about Would bear thee from the knowledge of thyself And gripple thee unto a pagan shore, Where these two Christian armies might combine The blood of malice in a vein of league, And not to spend it so unneighbourly.
LOUIS THE DAUPHIN	A noble temper dost thou show in this, And great affections, wrestling in thy bosom, Doth make an earthquake of nobility. O, what a noble combat hast thou fought Between compulsion and a brave respect! Let me wipe off this honourable dew That silverly doth progress on thy cheeks. My heart hath melted at a lady’s tears, Being an ordinary inundation; But this effusion of such manly drops, This shower blown up by tempest of the soul, Startles mine eyes, and makes me more amazed Than had I seen the vaulty top of heaven Figured quite o’er with burning meteors. Lift up thy brow, renowned Salisbury, And with a great heart heave away this storm; 55 Commend these waters to those baby eyes That never saw the giant world enraged, Nor met with Fortune other than at feasts, Full warm of blood, of mirth, of gossiping. Come, come, for thou shalt thrust thy hand as deep Into the purse of rich prosperity As Louis himself. So, nobles, shall you all That knit your sinews to the strength of mine.
(didascalia)	A trumpet sounds
LOUIS THE DAUPHIN	And even there methinks an angel spake!
(didascalia)	Enter Cardinal Pandolf
LOUIS THE DAUPHIN	Look where the holy legate comes apace, To give us warrant from the hand of heaven, And on our actions set the name of right With holy breath.
PANDOLF	Hail, noble prince of France! The next is this. King John hath reconciled Himself to Rome; his spirit is come in That so stood out against the Holy Church, The great metropolis and See of Rome; Therefore thy threat’ning colours now wind up, And tame the savage spirit of wild war, That like a lion fostered up at hand It may lie gently at the foot of peace, And be no further harmful than in show.
LOUIS THE DAUPHIN	Your grace shall pardon me: I will not back. I am too high-born to be propertied, To be a secondary at control, Or useful serving-man and instrument To any sovereign state throughout the world. Your breath first kindled the dead coal of wars Between this chastised kingdom and myself, And brought in matter that should feed this fire; And now ‘tis far too huge to be blown out With that same weak wind which enkindled it. You taught me how to know the face of right, Acquainted me with interest to this land, Yea, thrust this enterprise into my heart; And come ye now to tell me John hath made His peace with Rome? What is that peace to me? I, by the honour of my marriage bed, After young Arthur, claim this land for mine; And now it is half conquered, must I back Because that John hath made his peace with Rome? Am I Rome’s slave? What penny hath Rome borne, What men provided, what munition sent To underprop this action? Is’t not I That undergo this charge? Who else but I, And such as to my claim are liable, Sweat in this business and maintain this war? Have I not heard these islanders shout out ‘Vive le Roi!’as I have banked their towns? Have I not here the best cards for the game, 105 To win this easy match played for a crown? And shall I now give o’er the yielded set? No, no, on my soul, it never shall be said.
PANDOLF	You look but on the outside of this work.
LOUIS THE DAUPHIN	Outside or inside, I will not return Till my attempt so much be glorified As to my ample hope was promised Before I drew this gallant head of war, And culled these fiery spirits from the world To outlook conquest and to win renown Even in the jaws of danger and of death. A trumpet sounds What lusty trumpet thus doth summon us?
(didascalia)	Enter the Bastard
BASTARD	According to the fair play of the world, Let me have audience; I am sent to speak. My holy lord of Milan, from the King I come to learn how you have dealt for him, And as you answer I do know the scope And warrant limited unto my tongue.
PANDOLF	The Dauphin is too wilful-opposite, And will not temporize with my entreaties. He flatly says he’ll not lay down his arms.
BASTARD	By all the blood that ever fury breathed, The youth says well. Now hear our English king, For thus his royalty doth speak in me. He is prepared, and reason too he should. This apish and unmannerly approach, This harnessed masque and unadvised revel, This unhaired sauciness and boyish troops, The King doth smile at, and is well prepared To whip this dwarfish war, these pigmy arms, 135 From out the circle of his territories. That hand which had the strength even at your door To cudgel you and make you take the hatch, To dive like buckets in concealed wells, To crouch in litter of your stable planks, To lie like pawns locked up in chests and trunks, To hug with swine, to seek sweet safety out In vaults and prisons, and to thrill and shake Even at the crying of your nation’s crow, Thinking his voice an armed Englishman; Shall that victorious hand be feebled here That in your chambers gave you chastisement? No! Know the gallant monarch is in arms, And like an eagle o’er his eyrie towers To souse annoyance that comes near his nest. (To the English lords) And you degenerate, you ingrate revolts, You bloody Neros, ripping up the womb Of your dear mother England, blush for shame; For your own ladies and pale-visaged maids Like Amazons come tripping after drums; Their thimbles into armed gauntlets change, Their needles to lances, and their gentle hearts To fierce and bloody inclination.
LOUIS THE DAUPHIN	There end thy brave, and turn thy face in peace. We grant thou canst outscold us. Fare thee well: 160 We hold our time too precious to be spent With such a brabbler.
PANDOLF	Give me leave to speak.
BASTARD	No, I will speak. LouisTHE DAUPHIN We will attend to neither.— Strike up the drums, and let the tongue of war Plead for our interest and our being here.
BASTARD	Indeed your drums, being beaten, will cry out; And so shall you, being beaten. Do but start An echo with the clamour of thy drum, And even at hand a drum is ready braced That shall reverberate all as loud as thine.
(didascalia)	Sound but another, and another shall
BASTARD	As loud as thine rattle the welkin’s ear, And mock the deep-mouthed thunder; for at hand, Not trusting to this halting legate here, Whom he hath used rather for sport than need, Is warlike John; and in his forehead sits A bare-ribbed Death, whose office is this day To feast upon whole thousands of the French.
LOUIS THE DAUPHIN	Strike up our drums to find this danger out.
BASTARD	And thou shalt find it, Dauphin, do not doubt.
(didascalia)	Drums beat. Exeunt the Bastard Fat onedoor, all the rest, marching, at another door

Chi parla	Battuta
(didascalia)	Entrano, marciando in armi, Luigi il Delfino, il Conte di Salisbury, il Conte Melun, il Conte di Pembroke e Lord Bigot, con soldati
LUIGI IL DELFINO	Mio Lord Melun, sia trascritto questo, e serbatelo al sicuro a nostra memoria. Restituite l’originale a questi signori, affinché, avendo per iscritto il nostro leale patto, tanto essi quanto noi, riscorrendo queste carte, possiamo sapere perché prendemmo il sacramento e serbare le nostre fedi ferme e inviolabili.
SALISBURY	Dal canto nostro non sarà mai infranto. E, nobile Delfino, sebbene noi giuriamo zelo spontaneo e fede non sollecitata alle vostre imprese, pure credetemi, Principe, non son lieto che una tal piaga del tempo debba cercare un impiastro in una spregiata rivolta, e guarire l’inveterata cancrena di una ferita facendone molte. Oh, mi accora l’anima che io debba trarre questo ferro dal mio fianco per farne un fabbricatore di vedove! Oh, e là dove l’onorevole soccorso e difesa invoca a gran voce il nome di Salisbury! Ma tale è l’infezione del tempo, che per la salute e la cura del nostro diritto, non possiamo operare se non con la mano stessa di dura ingiustizia e confuso torto. E non è pietà, oh miei afflitti amici, che noi, figli e creature di quest’isola, siamo nati per vedere un’ora così triste come questa, in cui camminiamo dietro a uno straniero, marciamo sul suo gentile seno, e ingrossiamo le file dei suoi nemici? Devo ritrarmi e piangere sull’onta di questa causa forzata— far onore alla nobiltà d’una terra remota, e seguire qui bandiere sconosciute. Come, qui? Oh nazione, potessi tu trasferirti; potessero le braccia di Nettuno che ti cingono d’intorno portarti via dalla conoscenza di te stessa e stringerti a una riva pagana, dove questi due eserciti cristiani potessero unire il sangue della malizia in una vena d’alleanza, e non spenderlo così da cattivi vicini.
LUIGI IL DELFINO	Nobile tempra tu mostri in questo, e i grandi affetti, lottando nel tuo petto, fanno un terremoto di nobiltà. Oh, che nobile duello hai combattuto fra la necessità e un generoso riguardo! Lascia ch’io asciughi questa onorata rugiada che scorre argentea sulle tue gote. Il mio cuore s’è sciolto alle lacrime d’una dama, ch’è un’inondazione consueta; ma questo effondersi di gocce così virili, questo acquazzone sollevato dalla tempesta dell’anima, sbigottisce i miei occhi, e più mi stupisce che se avessi visto la volta del cielo tutta figurata d’ardenti meteore. Solleva la fronte, rinomato Salisbury, e con gran cuore scaccia via questa tempesta; 55 affida queste acque a quegli occhi infantili che mai videro il mondo gigante incollerito, né incontrarono la Fortuna se non a banchetti, ben caldi di sangue, di allegria, di chiacchiere. Vieni, vieni, ché tu affonderai la mano tanto addentro nella borsa d’una ricca prosperità quanto Luigi stesso. E così, nobili, voi tutti che annodate i vostri nervi alla forza dei miei.
(didascalia)	Suona una tromba
LUIGI IL DELFINO	E proprio allora mi par che un angelo abbia parlato!
(didascalia)	Entra il Cardinale Pandolfo
LUIGI IL DELFINO	Guardate dove viene in fretta il santo legato, a darci mandato dalla mano del cielo, e a porre sulle nostre azioni il nome del diritto con santo fiato.
PANDOLFO	Salve, nobile principe di Francia! Ecco quanto segue. Re Giovanni s’è riconciliato con Roma; è rientrato in sé quello spirito che tanto si ergeva contro la Santa Chiesa, la grande metropoli e Sede di Roma; perciò ora arrotola le tue bandiere minacciose, e doma il selvaggio spirito della guerra feroce, affinché, come un leone allevato in casa, possa giacere mansueto ai piedi della pace, e non nuocere più che in apparenza.
LUIGI IL DELFINO	Vostra grazia mi perdoni: io non tornerò indietro. Sono di troppo alto lignaggio per esser fatto strumento, per essere un secondo agli ordini altrui, o utile servitore e arnese di qualsivoglia stato sovrano al mondo. Il vostro fiato accese per primo il carbone spento delle guerre fra questo regno castigato e me stesso, e vi portò la materia che dovea nutrire questo fuoco; e ora esso è troppo immenso per esser soffiato via da quel medesimo debole vento che l’accese. Voi m’insegnaste a conoscere il volto del diritto, mi faceste noto il mio interesse a questa terra, anzi, mi spingeste in cuore questa impresa; e ora venite a dirmi che Giovanni ha fatto la sua pace con Roma? Che m’importa quella pace? Io, per l’onore del mio letto nuziale, dopo il giovane Arturo, reclamo mia questa terra; e ora ch’essa è mezzo conquistata, dovrei tornare indietro perché Giovanni ha fatto pace con Roma? Sono io schiavo di Roma? Che soldo ha versato Roma, che uomini ha fornito, che munizioni ha mandato a sostenere quest’azione? Non son io che mi assumo questa spesa? Chi altri se non io, e quelli che sono tenuti alla mia rivendicazione, suda in quest’affare e sostiene questa guerra? Non ho io udito questi isolani gridare «Vive le Roi!» mentre costeggiavo le loro città? Non ho io qui le carte migliori per la partita, 105 per vincere questo facile incontro giocato per una corona? E dovrò ora cedere la posta già arresa? No, no, sull’anima mia, non si dirà mai.
PANDOLFO	Voi guardate solo alla scorza di quest’opera.
LUIGI IL DELFINO	Scorza o midollo, io non tornerò finché il mio tentativo non sia glorificato quanto alla mia ampia speranza fu promesso prima ch’io levassi questa gagliarda testa di guerra, e scegliessi dal mondo questi spiriti focosi per guardar fisso in volto la conquista e conquistar fama persino nelle fauci del pericolo e della morte. Suona una tromba Quale vigorosa tromba ci chiama così a raccolta?
(didascalia)	Entra il Bastardo
BASTARDO	Secondo il leale costume del mondo, concedetemi udienza; sono mandato a parlare. Mio santo signore di Milano, dal Re vengo a sapere come abbiate trattato per lui, e secondo la vostra risposta io conosco l’ambito e il mandato assegnato alla mia lingua.
PANDOLFO	Il Delfino è troppo ostinatamente avverso, e non vuol temporeggiare alle mie preghiere. Dice recisamente che non deporrà le armi.
BASTARDO	Per tutto il sangue che mai furia spirò, il giovane dice bene. Ora udite il nostro re inglese, ché così la sua maestà parla in me. Egli è pronto, e a ragione dovrebbe esserlo. Di questo scimmiesco e scortese avvicinarsi, di questa mascherata in arme e sconsiderata baldoria, di questa imberbe insolenza e di queste schiere fanciullesche, il Re sorride, ed è ben preparato a frustare questa guerra nana, queste armi pigmee, 135 fuori dal cerchio dei suoi territori. Quella mano che ebbe la forza, persino alla vostra porta, di bastonarvi e di farvi saltar la staccionata, di tuffarvi come secchi in pozzi nascosti, di rannicchiarvi nella paglia delle tavole di stalla, di giacere come pegni chiusi in casse e bauli, di abbracciarvi ai porci, di cercare dolce salvezza in cantine e prigioni, e di fremere e tremare persino al gracchiare del corvo della vostra nazione, credendo la sua voce quella d’un inglese in armi; sarà forse infiacchita qui quella mano vittoriosa che nelle vostre camere vi diede castigo? No! Sappiate che il gagliardo monarca è in armi, e come un’aquila s’innalza sopra il suo nido per piombare sul molesto che gli s’accosta. (Ai signori inglesi) E voi degenerati, voi ingrati ribelli, voi sanguinari Neroni, che squarciate il grembo della vostra cara madre Inghilterra, arrossite di vergogna; ché le vostre stesse dame e le fanciulle dal viso pallido vengono come Amazzoni trotterellando dietro ai tamburi; mutano i loro ditali in guanti d’acciaio, i loro aghi in lance, e i loro gentili cuori in fiera e sanguinaria inclinazione.
LUIGI IL DELFINO	Qui finisca la tua bravata, e volgi il viso in pace. Concediamo che tu sai gridare più forte di noi. Sta’ bene: 160 teniamo il nostro tempo troppo prezioso per spenderlo con un tal ciarliero.
PANDOLFO	Concedetemi di parlare.
BASTARDO	No, parlerò io. LuigiIL DELFINO Non daremo ascolto né all’uno né all’altro.— Rullino i tamburi, e la lingua della guerra perori il nostro interesse e la nostra presenza qui.
BASTARDO	Certo i vostri tamburi, battuti, grideranno; e così farete voi, battuti. Prova solo a destare un’eco col clamore del tuo tamburo, e a portata di mano un tamburo sta già teso che rimbomberà tanto forte quanto il tuo.
(didascalia)	Suonane un altro, e un altro ancora
BASTARDO	Forte quanto il tuo scuoterà l’orecchio della volta celeste, e schernirà il tuono dalla gola profonda; ché a portata di mano, non fidando in questo esitante legato, di cui s’è servito più per gioco che per bisogno, sta il bellicoso Giovanni; e sulla sua fronte siede una Morte dalle nude costole, il cui ufficio è oggi banchettare su intere migliaia di Francesi.
LUIGI IL DELFINO	Rullino i nostri tamburi per scovare questo pericolo.
BASTARDO	E tu lo troverai, Delfino, non dubitare.
(didascalia)	Battono i tamburi. Escono il Bastardo da una porta, tutti gli altri, marciando, da un’altra porta

Speaker	Line
(didascalia)	Alarum. Enter King John Fat one door and Hubert at another door
KING JOHN	How goes the day with us? O, tell me, Hubert.
HUBERT	Badly, I fear. How fares your majesty?
KING JOHN	This fever that hath troubled me so long Lies heavy on me. O, my heart is sick!
(didascalia)	Enter a Messenger
MESSENGER	My lord, your valiant kinsman Falconbridge Desires your majesty to leave the field, And send him word by me which way you go.
KING JOHN	Tell him toward Swineshead, to the abbey there.
MESSENGER	Be of good comfort, for the great supply That was expected by the Dauphin here Are wrecked three nights ago on Goodwin Sands. This news was brought to Richard, but even now The French fight coldly and retire themselves.
KING JOHN	Ay me, this tyrant fever burns me up, And will not let me welcome this good news. Set on toward Swineshead. To my litter straight; Weakness possesseth me, and I am faint. Exeunt
(didascalia)	5.4 Alarum.Enter the Earls of Salisbury and Pembroke, and Lord Bigot
SALISBURY	I did not think the King so stored with friends.
PEMBROKE	Up once again; put spirit in the French. If they miscarry, we miscarry too.
SALISBURY	That misbegotten devil Falconbridge, In spite of spite, alone upholds the day.
PEMBROKE	They say King John, sore sick, hath left the field.
(didascalia)	Enter Count Melun, wounded, led by a soldier
MELUN	Lead me to the revolts of England here.
SALISBURY	When we were happy, we had other names.
PEMBROKE	It is the Count Melun.
SALISBURY	Wounded to death.
MELUN	Fly, noble English, you are bought and sold. Unthread the rude eye of rebellion, And welcome home again discarded faith; Seek out King John and fall before his feet, For if the French be lords of this loud day He means to recompense the pains you take By cutting off your heads. Thus hath he sworn, And I with him, and many more with me, Upon the altar at Saint Edmundsbury, Even on that altar where we swore to you Dear amity and everlasting love.
SALISBURY	May this be possible? May this be true?
MELUN	Have I not hideous death within my view, Retaining but a quantity of life, Which bleeds away, even as a form of wax Resolveth from his figure ‘gainst the fire? What in the world should make me now deceive, Since I must lose the use of all deceit? Why should I then be false, since it is true That I must die here, and live hence by truth? I say again, if Louis do win the day, He is forsworn if e’er those eyes of yours Behold another daybreak in the east; But even this night, whose black contagious breath Already smokes about the burning cresset Of the old, feeble, and day-wearied sun, Even this ill night your breathing shall expire, Paying the fine of rated treachery Even with a treacherous fine of all your lives, If Louis by your assistance win the day. Commend me to one Hubert with your king. The love of him, and this respect besides, For that my grandsire was an Englishman, Awakes my conscience to confess all this; In lieu whereof, I pray you bear me hence From forth the noise and rumour of the field, Where I may think the remnant of my thoughts In peace, and part this body and my soul With contemplation and devout desires.
SALISBURY	We do believe thee; and beshrew my soul But I do love the favour and the form Of this most fair occasion; by the which We will untread the steps of damned flight, And like a bated and retired flood, Leaving our rankness and irregular course, Stoop low within those bounds we have o’erlooked, And calmly run on in obedience Even to our ocean, to our great King John. My arm shall give thee help to bear thee hence, For I do see the cruel pangs of death Right in thine eye.—Away,my friends! New flight, And happy newness that intends old right. Exeunt
(didascalia)	5.5 Alarum,. retreat. Enter Louis the Dauphin, and his train
LOUIS THE DAUPHIN	The sun of heaven, methought, was loath to set, But stayed and made the western welkin blush, When English measured backward their own ground In faint retire. O, bravely came we off, When with a volley of our needless shot, After such bloody toil, we bid good night, And wound our tatt’ring colours clearly up, Last in the field and almost lords of it.
(didascalia)	Enter a Messenger
MESSENGER	Where is my prince the Dauphin?
LOUIS THE DAUPHIN	Here. What news?
MESSENGER	The Count Melun is slain; the English lords By his persuasion are again fall’n off; And your supply which you have wished so long Are cast away and sunk on Goodwin Sands.
LOUIS THE DAUPHIN	Ah, foul shrewd news! Beshrew thy very heart I did not think to be so sad tonight As this hath made me. Who was he that said King John did fly an hour or two before The stumbling night did part our weary powers?
MESSENGER	Whoever spoke it, it is true, my lord.
LOUIS THE DAUPHIN	Well, keep good quarter and good care tonight. The day shall not be up so soon as I, To try the fair adventure of tomorrow. Exeunt

Chi parla	Battuta
(didascalia)	Allarme. Entrano Re Giovanni da una porta e Hubert da un’altra porta
RE GIOVANNI	Come va per noi la giornata? Oh, dimmi, Hubert.
HUBERT	Male, io temo. Come sta vostra maestà?
RE GIOVANNI	Questa febbre che m’ha tormentato così a lungo mi grava addosso. Oh, il mio cuore è infermo!
(didascalia)	Entra un Messaggero
MESSAGGERO	Mio signore, il vostro valoroso congiunto Falconbridge prega vostra maestà di lasciare il campo, e di fargli sapere per mio mezzo da qual parte andate.
RE GIOVANNI	Digli verso Swineshead, all’abbazia che è là.
MESSAGGERO	Fatevi animo, poiché i grandi rinforzi che il Delfino attendeva qui sono naufragati tre notti fa sui banchi di Goodwin. Questa nuova fu recata a Riccardo, e proprio ora i Francesi combattono freddamente e si ritirano.
RE GIOVANNI	Ahimè, questa febbre tiranna mi consuma, e non mi lascia dar buona accoglienza a queste buone nuove. In marcia verso Swineshead. Alla mia lettiga, subito; la debolezza mi possiede, e vengo meno. Escono

Speaker	Line
(didascalia)	Alarum.Enter the Earls of Salisbury and Pembroke, and Lord Bigot
SALISBURY	I did not think the King so stored with friends.
PEMBROKE	Up once again; put spirit in the French. If they miscarry, we miscarry too.
SALISBURY	That misbegotten devil Falconbridge, In spite of spite, alone upholds the day.
PEMBROKE	They say King John, sore sick, hath left the field.
(didascalia)	Enter Count Melun, wounded, led by a soldier
MELUN	Lead me to the revolts of England here.
SALISBURY	When we were happy, we had other names.
PEMBROKE	It is the Count Melun.
SALISBURY	Wounded to death.
MELUN	Fly, noble English, you are bought and sold. Unthread the rude eye of rebellion, And welcome home again discarded faith; Seek out King John and fall before his feet, For if the French be lords of this loud day He means to recompense the pains you take By cutting off your heads. Thus hath he sworn, And I with him, and many more with me, Upon the altar at Saint Edmundsbury, Even on that altar where we swore to you Dear amity and everlasting love.
SALISBURY	May this be possible? May this be true?
MELUN	Have I not hideous death within my view, Retaining but a quantity of life, Which bleeds away, even as a form of wax Resolveth from his figure ‘gainst the fire? What in the world should make me now deceive, Since I must lose the use of all deceit? Why should I then be false, since it is true That I must die here, and live hence by truth? I say again, if Louis do win the day, He is forsworn if e’er those eyes of yours Behold another daybreak in the east; But even this night, whose black contagious breath Already smokes about the burning cresset Of the old, feeble, and day-wearied sun, Even this ill night your breathing shall expire, Paying the fine of rated treachery Even with a treacherous fine of all your lives, If Louis by your assistance win the day. Commend me to one Hubert with your king. The love of him, and this respect besides, For that my grandsire was an Englishman, Awakes my conscience to confess all this; In lieu whereof, I pray you bear me hence From forth the noise and rumour of the field, Where I may think the remnant of my thoughts In peace, and part this body and my soul With contemplation and devout desires.
SALISBURY	We do believe thee; and beshrew my soul But I do love the favour and the form Of this most fair occasion; by the which We will untread the steps of damned flight, And like a bated and retired flood, Leaving our rankness and irregular course, Stoop low within those bounds we have o’erlooked, And calmly run on in obedience Even to our ocean, to our great King John. My arm shall give thee help to bear thee hence, For I do see the cruel pangs of death Right in thine eye.—Away,my friends! New flight, And happy newness that intends old right. Exeunt

Chi parla	Battuta
(didascalia)	Allarme. Entrano i Conti di Salisbury e di Pembroke, e Lord Bigot
SALISBURY	Non credevo il Re così fornito d’amici.
PEMBROKE	Ancora una volta, su; infondete spirito ai Francesi. Se essi soccombono, soccombiamo anche noi.
SALISBURY	Quel demonio malnato di Falconbridge, a dispetto d’ogni dispetto, da solo sostiene la giornata.
PEMBROKE	Dicono che Re Giovanni, gravemente infermo, abbia lasciato il campo.
(didascalia)	Entra il Conte Melun, ferito, condotto da un soldato
MELUN	Conducetemi qui ai ribelli d’Inghilterra.
SALISBURY	Quando eravamo felici, avevamo altri nomi.
PEMBROKE	È il Conte Melun.
SALISBURY	Ferito a morte.
MELUN	Fuggite, nobili Inglesi, siete comprati e venduti. Sfilatevi dalla rozza cruna della ribellione, e riaccogliete in patria la fede ripudiata; cercate Re Giovanni e gettatevi ai suoi piedi, ché se i Francesi saranno signori di questo giorno clamoroso egli intende ricompensare le pene che vi prendete mozzandovi le teste. Così egli ha giurato, e io con lui, e molti altri con me, sull’altare di Saint Edmundsbury, proprio su quell’altare dove vi giurammo cara amicizia ed eterno amore.
SALISBURY	Può esser possibile? Può esser vero?
MELUN	Non ho io forse dinanzi agli occhi l’orrenda morte, e non mi resta che un tanto di vita, che se ne fugge sanguinando, come una forma di cera si scioglie dalla sua figura contro il fuoco? Che cosa al mondo dovrebbe farmi ora ingannare, se devo perdere l’uso d’ogni inganno? Perché dunque dovrei esser falso, se è vero ch’io qui devo morire, e vivere di là per verità? Lo dico di nuovo: se Luigi vince la giornata, egli è spergiuro se mai codesti vostri occhi vedranno un altro albeggiare a oriente; ma proprio questa notte, il cui nero fiato contagioso già fuma intorno alla lucerna ardente del vecchio, fiacco sole stanco del giorno, proprio questa mala notte spirerà il vostro respiro, pagando l’ammenda del tradimento tassato con l’ammenda traditrice di tutte le vostre vite, se Luigi col vostro aiuto vince la giornata. Raccomandatemi a un certo Hubert presso il vostro re. L’amore che gli porto, e inoltre questo riguardo, che mio nonno fu inglese, desta la mia coscienza a confessare tutto questo; in cambio di che, vi prego, portatemi via di qui, fuori dal frastuono e dal tumulto del campo, dove io possa pensare il resto dei miei pensieri in pace, e separare questo corpo e la mia anima con la contemplazione e devoti desideri.
SALISBURY	Noi ti crediamo; e maledetta la mia anima se non amo l’aspetto e la forma di questa bellissima occasione; per la quale ripercorreremo a ritroso i passi della dannata fuga, e come una piena calata e ritiratasi, lasciando la nostra tracotanza e il corso disordinato, ci piegheremo umili entro quegli argini che avevamo scavalcato, e scorreremo placidi in obbedienza fino al nostro oceano, al nostro grande Re Giovanni. Il mio braccio ti darà aiuto per portarti via di qui, ché io vedo le crudeli fitte della morte proprio nel tuo occhio.—Via, amici miei! Nuova fuga, e felice novità che mira all’antico diritto. Escono

Speaker	Line
(didascalia)	Alarum,. retreat. Enter Louis the Dauphin, and his train
LOUIS THE DAUPHIN	The sun of heaven, methought, was loath to set, But stayed and made the western welkin blush, When English measured backward their own ground In faint retire. O, bravely came we off, When with a volley of our needless shot, After such bloody toil, we bid good night, And wound our tatt’ring colours clearly up, Last in the field and almost lords of it.
(didascalia)	Enter a Messenger
MESSENGER	Where is my prince the Dauphin?
LOUIS THE DAUPHIN	Here. What news?
MESSENGER	The Count Melun is slain; the English lords By his persuasion are again fall’n off; And your supply which you have wished so long Are cast away and sunk on Goodwin Sands.
LOUIS THE DAUPHIN	Ah, foul shrewd news! Beshrew thy very heart I did not think to be so sad tonight As this hath made me. Who was he that said King John did fly an hour or two before The stumbling night did part our weary powers?
MESSENGER	Whoever spoke it, it is true, my lord.
LOUIS THE DAUPHIN	Well, keep good quarter and good care tonight. The day shall not be up so soon as I, To try the fair adventure of tomorrow. Exeunt

Chi parla	Battuta
(didascalia)	Allarme, ritirata. Entra Luigi il Delfino, col suo seguito
LUIGI IL DELFINO	Il sole del cielo, mi pareva, era restio a tramontare, ma indugiava e faceva arrossire la volta d’occidente, quando gli Inglesi misuravano all’indietro il proprio terreno in fiacca ritirata. Oh, ne uscimmo bravamente, quando con una salva dei nostri colpi superflui, dopo tanta sanguinosa fatica, demmo la buona notte, e avvolgemmo in bell’ordine le nostre bandiere lacere, ultimi sul campo e quasi suoi signori.
(didascalia)	Entra un Messaggero
MESSAGGERO	Dov’è il mio principe, il Delfino?
LUIGI IL DELFINO	Qui. Che nuove?
MESSAGGERO	Il Conte Melun è ucciso; i signori inglesi per sua persuasione sono di nuovo passati dall’altra parte; e i vostri rinforzi, che avete atteso così a lungo, sono perduti e affondati sui banchi di Goodwin.
LUIGI IL DELFINO	Ah, cattive e amare nuove! Maledetto il tuo cuore stesso; non pensavo d’essere stasera così mesto come questo m’ha reso. Chi fu colui che disse che Re Giovanni fuggì un’ora o due prima che la vacillante notte separasse le nostre stanche schiere?
MESSAGGERO	Chiunque l’abbia detto, è vero, mio signore.
LUIGI IL DELFINO	Bene, stanotte buona guardia e buona cura. Il giorno non si leverà così presto come me, per tentare la bella avventura di domani. Escono

Speaker	Line
(didascalia)	Enter the Bastard With a lightand Hubert With a pistol, severally
HUBERT	Who’s there? Speak, ho! Speak quickly, or I shoot.
BASTARD	A friend. What art thou?
HUBERT	Of the part of England.
BASTARD	Whither dost thou go?
HUBERT	What’s that to thee? Why may not I demand of thine affairs As well as thou of mine?
BASTARD	Hubert, I think.
HUBERT	Thou hast a perfect thought. I will upon all hazards well believe Thou art my friend that know’st my tongue so well. Who art thou?
BASTARD	Who thou wilt. An if thou please, Thou mayst befriend me so much as to think I come one way of the Plantagenets.
HUBERT	Unkind remembrance! Thou and eyeless night Have done me shame. Brave soldier, pardon me That any accent breaking from thy tongue Should ’scape the true acquaintance of mine ear.
BASTARD	Come, come, sans compliment. What news abroad?
HUBERT	Why, here walk I in the black brow of night To find you out.
BASTARD	Brief, then, and what’s the news?
HUBERT	O my sweet sir, news fitting to the night: Black, fearful, comfortless, and horrible.
BASTARD	Show me the very wound of this ill news; I am no woman, I’ll not swoon at it.
HUBERT	The King, I fear, is poisoned by a monk. I left him almost speechless, and broke out To acquaint you with this evil, that you might The better arm you to the sudden time Than if you had at leisure known of this.
BASTARD	How did he take it? Who did taste to him?
HUBERT	A monk, I tell you, a resolved villain, Whose bowels suddenly burst out. The King Yet speaks, and peradventure may recover.
BASTARD	Who didst thou leave to tend his majesty?
HUBERT	Why, know you not? The lords are all come back, And brought Prince Henry in their company, At whose request the King hath pardoned them, And they are all about his majesty.
BASTARD	Withhold thine indignation, mighty heaven, And tempt us not to bear above our power. I’ll tell thee, Hubert, half my power this night, Passing these flats, are taken by the tide. These Lincoln Washes have devoured them; Myself, well mounted, hardly have escaped. Away before! Conduct me to the King. I doubt he will be dead or ere I come. Exeunt

Chi parla	Battuta
(didascalia)	Entrano il Bastardo con un lume e Hubert con una pistola, da parti opposte
HUBERT	Chi è là? Parla, olà! Parla presto, o faccio fuoco.
BASTARDO	Un amico. Chi sei tu?
HUBERT	Della parte d’Inghilterra.
BASTARDO	Dove ti dirigi?
HUBERT	Che t’importa? Perché non posso io chiedere dei fatti tuoi così come tu dei miei?
BASTARDO	Hubert, mi pare.
HUBERT	Il tuo pensiero coglie nel segno. A ogni rischio vorrò ben credere che tu sia mio amico, ché conosci la mia voce così bene. Chi sei tu?
BASTARDO	Chi tu vuoi. E se ti aggrada, puoi farmi tanta grazia da pensare ch’io venga per un ramo dei Plantageneti.
HUBERT	Ingrata memoria! Tu e la cieca notte m’avete fatto vergogna. Bravo soldato, perdonami se un solo accento uscito dalla tua lingua ha potuto sfuggire al fedele riconoscimento del mio orecchio.
BASTARDO	Via, via, senza cerimonie. Che nuove corrono?
HUBERT	Ebbene, io cammino qui nel nero ciglio della notte per ritrovarvi.
BASTARDO	Sii breve, dunque, e quali sono le nuove?
HUBERT	Oh mio dolce signore, nuove degne della notte: nere, paurose, senza conforto e orribili.
BASTARDO	Mostrami la piaga viva di questa mala novella; non sono una donna, non verrò meno per essa.
HUBERT	Il Re, io temo, è avvelenato da un monaco. L’ho lasciato quasi senza parola, e mi sono precipitato a informarvi di questo male, perché voi possiate meglio armarvi contro il subitaneo frangente che se l’aveste saputo con comodo.
BASTARDO	Come lo prese? Chi assaggiò per lui?
HUBERT	Un monaco, vi dico, un scellerato risoluto, a cui d’un tratto scoppiarono le viscere. Il Re parla ancora, e forse potrà riaversi.
BASTARDO	Chi lasciasti ad assistere sua maestà?
HUBERT	Come, non lo sapete? I signori sono tutti tornati, e hanno condotto con sé il Principe Enrico, alla cui preghiera il Re li ha perdonati, e tutti stanno intorno a sua maestà.
BASTARDO	Trattieni il tuo sdegno, cielo possente, e non tentarci a portare più che le nostre forze. Ti dirò, Hubert, metà delle mie schiere questa notte, traversando queste piane, è stata presa dalla marea. Queste paludi di Lincoln le hanno divorate; io stesso, ben montato, a stento sono scampato. Va’ innanzi! Conducimi dal Re. Temo che sarà morto prima ch’io giunga. Escono

Speaker	Line
(didascalia)	Enter Prince Henry, the Earl of Salisbury, and Lord Bigot
PRINCE HENRY	It is too late. The life of all his blood Is touched corruptibly, and his pure brain, Which some suppose the soul’s frail dwelling-house, Doth by the idle comments that it makes Foretell the ending of mortality.
(didascalia)	Enter the Earl of Pembroke
PEMBROKE	His highness yet doth speak, and holds belief That being brought into the open air, It would allay the burning quality Of that fell poison which assaileth him.
PRINCE HENRY	Let him be brought into the orchard here.—
(didascalia)	Exit Lord Bigot
PRINCE HENRY	Doth he still rage?
PEMBROKE	He is more patient Than when you left him. Even now, he sung.
PRINCE HENRY	O, vanity of sickness! Fierce extremes In their continuance will not feel themselves. Death, having preyed upon the outward parts, Leaves them invincible, and his siege is now Against the mind; the which he pricks and wounds With many legions of strange fantasies, Which in their throng and press to that last hold Confound themselves. ’Tis strange that death should sing. I am the cygnet to this pale faint swan, Who chants a doleful hymn to his own death, And from the organ-pipe of frailty sings His soul and body to their lasting rest.
SALISBURY	Be of good comfort, Prince, for you are born To set a form upon that indigest Which he hath left so shapeless and so rude.
(didascalia)	King John is brought in, with Lord Bigot attending
KING JOHN	Ay marry, now my soul hath elbow-room; It would not out at windows nor at doors. There is so hot a summer in my bosom That all my bowels crumble up to dust; I am a scribbled form, drawn with a pen Upon a parchment, and against this fire Do I shrink up.
PRINCE HENRY	How fares your majesty?
KING JOHN	Poisoned, ill fare! Dead, forsook, cast off; And none of you will bid the winter come To thrust his icy fingers in my maw, Nor let my kingdom’s rivers take their course Through my burned bosom, nor entreat the north To make his bleak winds kiss my parchèd lips 40 And comfort me with cold. I do not ask you much; I beg cold comfort, and you are so strait And so ingrateful you deny me that.
PRINCE HENRY	O, that there were some virtue in my tears That might relieve you!
KING JOHN	The salt in them is hot.
(didascalia)	Within me is a hell, and there the poison
KING JOHN	Is, as a fiend, confined to tyrannize On unreprievable condemned blood.
(didascalia)	Enter the Bastard
BASTARD	O, I am scalded with my violent motion And spleen of speed to see your majesty!
KING JOHN	O cousin, thou art come to set mine eye. The tackle of my heart is cracked and burnt, And all the shrouds wherewith my life should sail Are turned to one thread, one little hair; My heart hath one poor string to stay it by, Which holds but till thy news be uttered, And then all this thou seest is but a clod And module of confounded royalty.
BASTARD	The Dauphin is preparing hitherward, Where God He knows how we shall answer him; For in a night the best part of my power, As I upon advantage did remove, Were in the Washes all unwarily Devoured by the unexpected flood. King John dies
SALISBURY	You breathe these dead news in as dead an ear. (To King John) My liege, my lord!—But now a king, now thus.
PRINCE HENRY	Even so must I run on, and even so stop. What surety of the world, what hope, what stay, When this was now a king and now is clay?
BASTARD	(to King John) Art thou gone so? I do but stay behind To do the office for thee of revenge, And then my soul shall wait on thee to heaven, As it on earth hath been thy servant still. (To the lords) Now, now, you stars that move in your right spheres, Where be your powers? Show now your mended faiths, And instantly return with me again, To push destruction and perpetual shame Out of the weak door of our fainting land. Straight let us seek, or straight we shall be sought. The Dauphin rages at our very heels.
SALISBURY	It seems you know not, then, so much as we. The Cardinal Pandolf is within at rest, Who half an hour since came from the Dauphin, And brings from him such offers of our peace As we with honour and respect may take, With purpose presently to leave this war.
BASTARD	He will the rather do it when he sees Ourselves well-sinewed to our own defence.
SALISBURY	Nay, ’tis in a manner done already, For many carriages he hath dispatched To the sea-side, and put his cause and quarrel To the disposing of the Cardinal, With whom yourself, myself, and other lords, If you think meet, this afternoon will post To consummate this business happily.
BASTARD	Let it be so.—And you, my noble prince, With other princes that may best be spared, Shall wait upon your father’s funeral.
PRINCE HENRY	At Worcester must his body be interred, For so he willed it.
BASTARD	Thither shall it then, 100 And happily may your sweet self put on The lineal state and glory of the land, To whom with all submission, on my knee, I do bequeath my faithful services And true subjection everlastingly. 105 He kneels
SALISBURY	And the like tender of our love we make, To rest without a spot for evermore. Salisbury, Pembroke and Bigot kneel
PRINCE HENRY	I have a kind of soul that would give thanks, And knows not how to do it but with tears. He weeps
(didascalia)	BASTARD rising
PRINCE HENRY	O, let us pay the time but needful woe, Since it hath been beforehand with our griefs. This England never did, nor never shall, Lie at the proud foot of a conqueror But when it first did help to wound itself. Now these her princes are come home again, Come the three corners of the world in arms And we shall shock them. Naught shall make us rue If England to itself do rest but true.
(didascalia)	Flourish. Exeunt with the body
ENTRY	of ‘a book of The Merchant of Venice or otherwise called The Jew of Venice’ in the Stationers’ Register on 22July 1598 probably represents an attempt by Shakespeare’s company to prevent the unauthorized printing of a popular play: it eventually appeared in print as ‘The Comical History of the Merchant of Venice’ in 1600, when it was said to have ‘been divers times acted by the Lord Chamberlain his servants’; probably Shakespeare wrote it in 1596 or 1597. The alternative title—The Jew of Venice—may reflect Shylock’s impact on the play’s first audiences. The play is constructed on the basis of two romantic tales using motifs well known to sixteenth-century readers. The story of Giannetto (Shakespeare’s Bassanio) and the Lady (Portia) of Belmont comes from an Italian collection of fifty stories published under the title of II Pecorone (‘the big sheep’, or ‘dunce’) and attributed to one Ser Giovanni of Fiorentino. Written in the later part of the fourteenth century, the volume did not appear until 1558. No sixteenth-century translation is known, so (unless there was a lost intermediary) Shakespeare must have read it in Italian. It gave him the main outline of the plot involving Antonio (the merchant), Bassanio (the wooer), Portia, and the Jew (Shylock). The pound of flesh motif was available also in other versions, one of which, in Alexander Silvayn’s The Orator (translated 1596), influenced the climactic scene (4.1) in which Shylock attempts to exact the full penalty of his bond. In the story from II Pecorone the lady (a widow) challenges her suitors to seduce her, on pain of the forfeiture of their wealth, and thwarts them by drugging their wine. Shakespeare more romantically shows a maiden required by her father’s will to accept only a wooer who will forswear marriage if he fails to make the right choice among caskets of gold, silver and lead. The story of the caskets was readily available in versions by John Gower (in his Confessio Amantis) and Giovanni Boccaccio (in his Decameron), and in an anonymous anthology (the Gesta Romanorum). Shakespeare added the character ofJessica, Shylock’s daughter who elopes with the Christian Lorenzo—perhaps influenced by episodes in Christopher Marlowe’s play The Jew of Malta (c.1589)—and made many adjustments to the stories from which he borrowed. The Merchant of Venice is a natural development from Shakespeare’s earlier comedies, especially The Two Gentlemen of Verona, with its heroine disguised as a boy and its portrayal of the competing demands of love and friendship. But Portia is the first of his great romantic heroines, and Shylock his first great comic antagonist. Though the play grew out of fairy tales, its moral scheme is not entirely clear cut: the Christians are open to criticism, the Jew is true to his own code of conduct. The response of twentieth-century and later audiences has been complicated by racial issues; in any case, the role of Shylock affords such strong opportunities for an actor capable of arousing an undercurrent of sympathy for a vindictive character that it has sometimes unbalanced the play in performance. But the so-called trial scene (4.1) is unfailing in its impact on audiences, and the closing episodes modulate skilfully from romantic lyricism to high comedy, while sustaining the play’s concern with true and false values.
THE PERSONS OF THE	PLAY ANTONIO, a merchant of Venice BASSANIO, his friend and Portia’s suitor LEONARDO, Bassanio’s servant SHYLOCK, a Jew JESSICA, his daughter TUBAL, a Jew LANCELOT, a clown, first Shylock’s servant and then Bassanio’s GOBBO, his father PORTIA, an heiress NERISSA, her waiting-gentlewoman
DUKE	of Venice Magnificoes of Venice A jailer, attendants, and servants

Chi parla	Battuta
(didascalia)	Entrano il Principe Enrico, il Conte di Salisbury e Lord Bigot
PRINCIPE ENRICO	È troppo tardi. La vita di tutto il suo sangue è toccata da corruzione, e il suo puro cervello, che alcuni suppongono fragile dimora dell’anima, coi vani discorsi che va facendo predice la fine della mortalità.
(didascalia)	Entra il Conte di Pembroke
PEMBROKE	Sua altezza ancora parla, e tiene per fermo che, portato all’aria aperta, si placherebbe la qualità bruciante di quel crudele veleno che l’assale.
PRINCIPE ENRICO	Sia portato qui, nel frutteto.—
(didascalia)	Esce Lord Bigot
PRINCIPE ENRICO	Delira ancora?
PEMBROKE	È più paziente di quando lo lasciaste. Or ora, cantava.
PRINCIPE ENRICO	Oh, vanità della malattia! Gli estremi feroci nel loro perdurare non sentono più se stessi. La Morte, avendo predato sulle parti esteriori, le lascia invitte, e il suo assedio è ora contro la mente; che egli punge e ferisce con molte legioni di strane fantasie, le quali, nella calca e nella pressa verso quell’ultimo baluardo, si confondono tra loro. È strano che la morte debba cantare. Io sono il cigno giovane di questo pallido cigno esausto, che intona un dolente inno alla propria morte, e dalla canna d’organo della fragilità canta la sua anima e il suo corpo al loro riposo eterno.
SALISBURY	Fatevi animo, Principe, ché voi siete nato a porre una forma su quel caos ch’egli ha lasciato così informe e così rozzo.
(didascalia)	Re Giovanni è portato dentro, con Lord Bigot che l’assiste
RE GIOVANNI	Sì davvero, ora l’anima mia ha spazio per i gomiti; non voleva uscire né dalle finestre né dalle porte. C’è un’estate così ardente nel mio petto che tutte le mie viscere si sbriciolano in polvere; io sono una figura scarabocchiata, tracciata con una penna sopra una pergamena, e contro questo fuoco mi accartoccio.
PRINCIPE ENRICO	Come sta vostra maestà?
RE GIOVANNI	Avvelenato, mal ridotto! Morto, abbandonato, rigettato; e nessuno di voi vuol chiamare l’inverno perché caccii le sue dita gelide nelle mie fauci, né lasciare che i fiumi del mio regno prendano il loro corso attraverso il mio petto bruciato, né supplicare il settentrione che i suoi venti squallidi bacino le mie labbra riarse 40 e mi confortino col freddo. Non vi chiedo molto; imploro un freddo conforto, e voi siete così spilorci e così ingrati da negarmi anche quello.
PRINCIPE ENRICO	Oh, ci fosse qualche virtù nelle mie lacrime che potesse darvi sollievo!
RE GIOVANNI	Il sale che v’è dentro è caldo.
(didascalia)	Dentro di me è un inferno, e là il veleno
RE GIOVANNI	sta, come un demonio, confinato a tiranneggiare sopra un sangue condannato senza scampo.
(didascalia)	Entra il Bastardo
BASTARDO	Oh, sono riarso per la mia corsa violenta e per l’impeto della fretta di vedere vostra maestà!
RE GIOVANNI	Oh cugino, tu sei venuto a chiudermi gli occhi. Il sartiame del mio cuore è spezzato e bruciato, e tutte le gomene con cui la mia vita dovrebbe veleggiare si son ridotte a un filo solo, a un piccolo capello; il mio cuore ha una povera corda che lo trattiene, e che regge solo finché le tue nuove non sian dette, e allora tutto questo che vedi non è che una zolla e un modello di regalità distrutta.
BASTARDO	Il Delfino si prepara a marciare in questa direzione, e Dio sa come gli risponderemo; ché in una notte la parte migliore delle mie forze, mentre mi spostavo per prendere vantaggio, fu nelle paludi, tutta incauta, divorata dall’inattesa marea. Muore Re Giovanni
SALISBURY	Voi spirate queste morte nuove in un orecchio altrettanto morto. (A Re Giovanni) Mio sovrano, mio signore!—Poc’anzi un re, ora così.
PRINCIPE ENRICO	Così anch’io devo correre avanti, e così fermarmi. Quale sicurezza al mondo, quale speranza, quale sostegno, se costui poc’anzi era un re e ora è creta?
BASTARDO	(a Re Giovanni) Te ne sei andato così? Io non resto qui addietro che per compiere in tua vece l’ufficio della vendetta, e allora la mia anima ti servirà in cielo, come in terra ti è sempre stata serva. (Ai signori) Ora, ora, voi stelle che vi movete nelle vostre giuste sfere, dove sono le vostre forze? Mostrate ora le vostre risanate fedeltà, e tornate immantinente con me, per cacciare la distruzione e la vergogna perpetua fuori dalla debole porta della nostra terra svenente. Cerchiamoli subito, o subito saremo cercati. Il Delfino infuria proprio alle nostre calcagna.
SALISBURY	Pare dunque che voi non sappiate quanto noi. Il Cardinale Pandolfo è qui dentro a riposare, venuto mezz’ora fa dal Delfino, e reca da lui tali offerte per la nostra pace quali noi con onore e decoro possiamo accogliere, col proposito di lasciare subito questa guerra.
BASTARDO	Lo farà tanto più volentieri quando vedrà noi stessi ben muniti di nervi alla nostra difesa.
SALISBURY	Anzi, in certo modo è già fatto, ché molti carriaggi egli ha spedito verso il mare, e ha rimesso la sua causa e la sua contesa alla disposizione del Cardinale, col quale voi stesso, io stesso e altri signori, se lo credete opportuno, questo pomeriggio correremo a condurre felicemente a termine quest’affare.
BASTARDO	Così sia.—E voi, mio nobile principe, con altri principi di cui meglio si possa fare a meno, assisterete ai funerali di vostro padre.
PRINCIPE ENRICO	A Worcester dev’essere sepolto il suo corpo, ché così egli volle.
BASTARDO	Là dunque andrà, 100 e felicemente possa il vostro dolce essere rivestire lo stato ereditario e la gloria della terra, alla quale con ogni sottomissione, sul mio ginocchio, io lascio in retaggio i miei fedeli servigi e la vera obbedienza in eterno. 105 S’inginocchia
SALISBURY	E la medesima offerta del nostro amore noi facciamo, per restare senza macchia in eterno. Salisbury, Pembroke e Bigot s’inginocchiano
PRINCIPE ENRICO	Io ho una specie d’anima che vorrebbe render grazie, e non sa come farlo se non con le lacrime. Piange
(didascalia)	IL BASTARDO alzandosi
PRINCIPE ENRICO	Oh, paghiamo al tempo solo il dolore necessario, poiché esso ha già prevenuto i nostri lutti. Questa Inghilterra mai giacque, né mai giacerà, al piede superbo di un conquistatore se non quando prima abbia aiutato a ferire se stessa. Ora che questi suoi principi son tornati a casa, vengano pure in armi i tre canti del mondo e noi li respingeremo. Nulla ci farà dolere se l’Inghilterra rimanga soltanto fedele a se stessa.
(didascalia)	Squilli di trombe. Escono col corpo