The Complete Historical Plays of William Shakespeare. William Shakespeare
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Indeed, we fear’d his sickness was past cure.
PEMBROKE.
Indeed, we heard how near his death he was,
Before the child himself felt he was sick:
This must be answer’d either here or hence.
KING JOHN.
Why do you bend such solemn brows on me?
Think you I bear the shears of destiny?
Have I commandment on the pulse of life?
SALISBURY.
It is apparent foul-play; and ‘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 ow’d the breadth of all this isle
Three foot of it doth hold:—bad world the while!
This must not be thus borne: this will break out
To all our sorrows, and ere long, I doubt.
[Exeunt LORDS.]
KING JOHN.
They burn in indignation. I repent:
There is no sure foundation set on blood;
No certain life achiev’d by others’ death.—
[Enter a MESSENGER.]
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 learn’d by them;
For when you should be told they do prepare,
The tidings comes that they are all arriv’d.
KING JOHN.
O, where hath our intelligence been drunk?
Where hath it slept? Where is my mother’s care,
That such an army could be drawn in France,
And she not hear of it?
MESSENGER.
My liege, her ear
Is stopp’d with dust; the first of April died
Your noble mother; and as I hear, my lord,
The Lady Constance in a frenzy died
Three days before; but this from rumour’s tongue
I idly heard,—if true or false I know not.
KING JOHN.
Withhold thy speed, dreadful occasion!
O, make a league with me, till I have pleas’d
My discontented peers!—What! mother dead!
How wildly, then, walks my estate in France!—
Under whose conduct came those powers of France
That thou for truth giv’st out are landed here?
MESSENGER.
Under the Dauphin.
KING JOHN.
Thou hast made me giddy
With these in tidings.
[Enter the BASTARD and PETER OF POMFRET.]
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 afear’d to hear the worst,
Then let the worst, unheard, fall on your head.
KING JOHN.
Bear with me, cousin, for I was amaz’d
Under the tide: but now I breathe again
Aloft the flood; and can give audience
To any tongue, speak it of what it will.
BASTARD.
How I have sped among the clergymen,
The sums I have collected shall express.
But as I travell’d hither through the land,
I find the people strangely fantasied;
Possess’d with rumours, full of idle dreams.
Not knowing what they fear, but full of fear;
And here’s a prophet that I brought with me
From forth the streets of Pomfret, whom I found
With many hundreds treading on his heels;
To whom he sung, in rude harsh-sounding rhymes,
That, ere the next Ascension-day at noon,
Your highness should deliver up your crown.
KING JOHN.
Thou idle dreamer, wherefore didst thou so?
PETER.
Foreknowing that the truth will fall out so.
KING JOHN.
Hubert, away with him; imprison him;
And on that day at noon, whereon he says
I shall yield up my crown, let him be hang’d.
Deliver him to safety; and return,
For I must use thee.
[Exit HUBERT with PETER.]
O my gentle cousin,
Hear’st thou the news abroad, who are arriv’d?
BASTARD.
The French, my lord; men’s mouths are full of it;
Besides, I met Lord Bigot and Lord Salisbury,—
With eyes as red as new-enkindled fire,
And others more, going to seek the grave
Of Arthur, whom they say is kill’d tonight
On your suggestion.
KING JOHN.
Gentle kinsman, go
And thrust thyself into their companies:
I have a way to will their loves again:
Bring them before me.
BASTARD.
I will seek them out.
KING JOHN.
Nay, but make haste; the better foot before.
O, let me have no subject enemies
When adverse foreigners affright my towns
With dreadful pomp of stout invasion!
Be Mercury, set feathers to thy heels,
And fly like thought from them to me again.
BASTARD.
The spirit of the time shall teach me speed.
KING JOHN.
Spoke like a sprightful noble gentleman!
[Exit BASTARD.]
Go after him; for he perhaps shall need
Some messenger betwixt me