'Tis true, fair daughter, and this blessèd day

3.1.21001Ever in France shall be kept festival.

3.1.31002To solemnize this day the glorious sun

3.1.41003Stays in his course and plays the alchemist,

3.1.51004Turning with splendor of his precious eye

3.1.61005The meager cloddy earth to glittering gold.

3.1.71006The yearly course that brings this day about

3.1.81007Shall never see it but a holiday.

[Rising] A wicked day and not a holy day.

3.1.101009What hath this day deserved? what hath it done,

3.1.111010That it in golden letters should be set

3.1.121011Among the high tides in the calendar?

3.1.131012Nay, rather turn this day out of the week,

3.1.141013This day of shame, oppression, perjury.

3.1.151014Or, if it must stand still, let wives with child

3.1.161015Pray that their burdens may not fall this day,

3.1.171016Lest that their hopes prodigiously be crossed;

3.1.181017But on this day let seamen fear no wreck;

3.1.191018No bargains break that are not this day made;

3.1.201019This day all things begun come to ill end;

3.1.211020Yea, faith itself to hollow falsehood change.

By heaven, lady, you shall have no cause

3.1.231022To curse the fair proceedings of this day.

3.1.241023Have I not pawned to you my majesty?

You have beguiled me with a counterfeit

3.1.261025Resembling majesty, which, being touched and tried,

3.1.271026Proves valueless. You are forsworn, forsworn.

3.1.281027You came in arms to spill mine enemy's blood,

3.1.291028But now in arms you strengthen it with yours.

3.1.301029The grappling vigor and rough frown of war

3.1.311030Is cold in amity and painted peace,

3.1.321031And our oppression hath made up this league.

3.1.331032Arm, arm, you heavens, against these perjured kings!

3.1.341033A widow cries, be husband to me, heavens.

3.1.351034Let not the hours of this ungodly day

3.1.361035Wear out the days in peace, but ere sunset

3.1.371036Set armèd discord 'twixt these perjured kings.

3.1.381037Hear me, O, hear me!

Hear me, O, hear me! Lady Constance, peace.

War, war, no peace. Peace is to me a war.

3.1.401040O Limoges, O Austria, thou dost shame

3.1.411041That bloody spoil. Thou slave, thou wretch, thou coward,

3.1.421042Thou little valiant, great in villainy;

3.1.431043Thou ever strong upon the stronger side;

3.1.441044Thou Fortune's champion, that dost never fight

3.1.451045But when her humorous ladyship is by

3.1.461046To teach thee safety -- thou art perjured too,

3.1.471047And sooth'st up greatness. What a fool art thou,

3.1.481048A ramping fool, to brag and stamp and swear

3.1.491049Upon my party. Thou cold-blooded slave,

3.1.501050Hast thou not spoke like thunder on my side?

3.1.511051Been sworn my soldier, bidding me depend

3.1.521052Upon thy stars, thy fortune, and thy strength?

3.1.531053And dost thou now fall over to my foes?

3.1.541054Thou wear a lion's hide? Doff it for shame,

3.1.551055And hang a calf's-skin on those recreant limbs.

O that a man should speak those words to me!

And hang a calf's-skin on those recreant limbs.

Thou dar'st not say so villain for thy life.

And hang a calf's-skin on those recreant limbs.

We like not this, thou dost forget thyself.

Here comes the holy legate of the Pope.

Hail you anointed deputies of heaven. --

3.1.631064To thee King John my holy errand is.

3.1.641065I, Pandulph, of fair Milan Cardinal,

3.1.651066And from Pope Innocent the legate here,

3.1.661067Do in his name religiously demand

3.1.671068Why thou against the Church, our holy mother,

3.1.681069So willfully dost spurn and force perforce

3.1.691070Keep Stephen Langton, chosen Archbishop

3.1.701071Of Canterbury, from that holy See.

3.1.711072This in our foresaid Holy Father's name,

3.1.721073Pope Innocent, I do demand of thee.

What earthly name to interrogatories

3.1.741075Can test the free breath of a sacred king?

3.1.751076Thou canst not, Cardinal, devise a name

3.1.761077So slight, unworthy, and ridiculous

3.1.771078To charge me to an answer as the Pope.

3.1.781079Tell him this tale, and from the mouth of England

3.1.791080Add thus much more: that no Italian priest

3.1.801081Shall tithe or toll in our dominions;

3.1.811082But as we, under [god], are supreme head,

3.1.821083So under him that great supremacy

3.1.831084Where we do reign, we will alone uphold

3.1.841085Without th'assistance of a mortal hand.

3.1.851086So tell the Pope, all reverence set apart,

3.1.861087To him and his usurped authority.

Brother of England, you blaspheme in this.

Though you and all the kings of Christendom

3.1.891090Are led so grossly by this meddling priest,

3.1.901091Dreading the curse that money may buy out,

3.1.911092And by the merit of vile gold, dross, dust,

3.1.921093Purchase corrupted pardon of a man

3.1.931094Who in that sale sells pardon from himself;

3.1.941095Though you, and al the rest so grossly led,

3.1.951096This juggling witchcraft with revenue cherish,

3.1.961097Yet I alone, alone do me oppose

3.1.971098Against the Pope, and count his friends my foes.

Then, by the lawful power that I have,

3.1.991100Thou shalt stand curst and excommunicate,

3.1.1001101And blessèd shall he be that doth revolt

3.1.1011102From his allegiance to an heretic,

3.1.1021103And meritorious shall that hand be called,

3.1.1031104Canonizèd and worshipped as a saint,

3.1.1041105That takes away by any secret course

3.1.1051106Thy hateful life.

Thy hateful life. O, lawful let it be

3.1.1061108That I have room with Rome to curse awhile.

3.1.1071109Good Father Cardinal, cry thou "amen"

3.1.1081110To my keen curses, for without my wrong

3.1.1091111There is no tongue hath power to curse him right.

There's law and warrant, lady, for my curse.

And for mine too. When law can do no right,

3.1.1121114Let it be lawful that law bar no wrong.

3.1.1131115Law cannot give my child his kingdom here,

3.1.1141116For he that holds his kingdom holds the law.

3.1.1151117Therefore, since law itself is perfect wrong,

3.1.1161118How can the law forbid my tongue to curse?

Philip of France, on peril of a curse,

3.1.1181120Let go the hand of that arch-heretic

3.1.1191121And raise the power of France upon his head

3.1.1201122Unless he do submit himself to Rome.

Look'st thou pale France? Do not let go thy hand.

Look to that, devil, lest that France repent

3.1.1231125And by disjoining hands, hell lose a soul.

King Philip, listen to the Cardinal.

And hang a calf's-skin on his recreant limbs.

Well ruffian, I must pocket up these wrongs,

3.1.1271129Because --

Your breeches best may carry them.

Philip, what sayest thou to the Cardinal?

What should he say, but as the Cardinal?

Bethink you father, for the difference

3.1.1321134Is purchase of a heavy curse from Rome,

3.1.1331135Or the light loss of England for a friend.

3.1.1341136Forgo the easier.

Forgo the easier. That's the curse of Rome.

O Lewis, stand fast; the devil tempts thee here

3.1.1361139In likeness of a new untrimmèd bride.

The Lady Constance speaks not from her faith,

3.1.1381141But from her need.

O, if thou grant my need,

3.1.1401143Which only lives but by the death of faith,

3.1.1411144That need must needs infer this principle:

3.1.1421145That faith would live again by death of need.

3.1.1431146O, then tread down my need, and faith mounts up,

3.1.1441147Keep my need up, and faith is trodden down.

The king is moved and answers not to this.

O, be removed from him, and answer well.

Do so King Philip, hang no more in doubt.

Hang nothing but a calf's-skin, most sweet lout.

I am perplexed, and know not what to say.

What canst thou say, but will perplex thee more

3.1.1511154If thou stand excommunicate and cursed?

Good reverend father, make my person yours,

3.1.1531156And tell me how you would bestow yourself.

3.1.1541157This royal hand and mine are newly knit,

3.1.1551158And the conjunction of our inward souls

3.1.1561159Married in league, coupled, and linked together

3.1.1571160With all religious strength of sacred vows.

3.1.1581161The latest breath that gave the sound of words

3.1.1591162Was deep-sworn faith, peace, amity, true love

3.1.1601163Between our kingdoms and our royal selves;

3.1.1611164And even before this truce, but new before,

3.1.1621165No longer than we well could wash our hands,

3.1.1631166To clap this royal bargain up of peace,

3.1.1641167Heaven knows they were besmeared and over-stained

3.1.1651168With slaughter's pencil; where revenge did paint

3.1.1661169The fearful difference of incensèd kings.

3.1.1671170And shall these hands, so lately purged of blood,

3.1.1681171So newly joined in love, so strong in both,

3.1.1691172Unyoke this seizure and this kind regreet?

3.1.1701173Play fast and loose with faith? So jest with heaven,

3.1.1711174Make such unconstant children of ourselves

3.1.1721175As now again to snatch our palm from palm,

3.1.1731176Unswear faith sworn, and on the marriage bed

3.1.1741177Of smiling peace to march a bloody host,

3.1.1751178And make a riot on the gentle brow

3.1.1761179Of true sincerity? O, holy sir

3.1.1771180My reverend father, let it not be so;

3.1.1781181Out of your grace, devise, ordain, impose

3.1.1791182Some gentle order, and then we shall be blest

3.1.1801183To do your pleasure and continue friends.

All form is formless, order orderless,

3.1.1821185Save what is opposite to England's love.

3.1.1831186Therefore to arms! Be champion of our church,

3.1.1841187Or let the church our mother breathe her curse,

3.1.1851188A mother's curse, on her revolting son.

3.1.1861189France, thou mayest hold a serpent by the tongue,

3.1.1871190A casèd lion by the mortal paw,

3.1.1881191A fasting tiger safer by the tooth,

3.1.1891192Than keep in peace that hand which thou dost hold.

I may disjoin my hand, but not my faith.

So mak'st thou faith an enemy to faith,

3.1.1921195And like a civil war set'st oath to oath,

3.1.1931196Thy tongue against thy tongue. O let thy vow

3.1.1941197First made to heaven, first be to heaven performed,

3.1.1951198That is, to be the champion of our church.

3.1.1961199What since thou swor'st is sworn against thyself

3.1.1971200And may not be performèd by thyself,

3.1.1981201For that which thou hast sworn to do amiss,

3.1.1991202Is not amiss when it is truly done.

3.1.2001203And being not done where doing tends to ill,

3.1.2011204The truth is then most done not doing it.

3.1.2021205The better act of purposes mistook

3.1.2031206Is to mistake again; though indirect,

3.1.2041207Yet indirection thereby grows direct,

3.1.2051208And falsehood falsehood cures, as fire cools fire

3.1.2061209Within the scorchèd veins of one new burned.

3.1.2071210It is religion that doth make vows kept,

3.1.2081211But thou hast sworn against religion

3.1.2091212By what thou swear'st against the thing thou swear'st,

3.1.2101213And mak'st an oath the surety for thy truth

3.1.2111214Against an oath. The truth thou art unsure

3.1.2121215To swear, swears only not to be forsworn,

3.1.2131216Else what a mockery should it be to swear?

3.1.2141217But thou dost swear only to be forsworn,

3.1.2151218And most forsworn to keep what thou dost swear.

3.1.2161219Therefore thy later vows against thy first

3.1.2171220Is in thy self rebellion to thy self;

3.1.2181221And better conquest never canst thou make,

3.1.2191222Than arm thy constant and thy nobler parts

3.1.2201223Against these giddy loose suggestions,

3.1.2211224Upon which better part our prayers come in,

3.1.2221225If thou vouchsafe them. But if not, then know

3.1.2231226The peril of our curses light on thee

3.1.2241227So heavy as thou shalt not shake them off,

3.1.2251228But in despair die under their black weight.

Rebellion, flat rebellion!

Rebellion, flat rebellion! Will't not be?

3.1.2281231Will not a calf's-skin stop that mouth of thine?

Father, to arms!

Upon thy wedding day?

3.1.2311234Against the blood that thou hast marrièd?

3.1.2321235What, shall our feast be kept with slaughtered men?

3.1.2331236Shall braying trumpets and loud churlish drums,

3.1.2341237Clamors of hell, be measures to our pomp?

3.1.2351238O husband, hear me! Ay, alack, how new

3.1.2361239Is "husband" in my mouth! [Kneeling] Even for that name,

3.1.2371240Which till this time my tongue did ne'er pronounce,

3.1.2381241Upon my knee I beg, go not to arms

3.1.2391242Against mine uncle.

[Kneeling] O, upon my knee made hard with kneeling,

3.1.2411244I do pray to thee, thou virtuous Dauphin,

3.1.2421245Alter not the doom forethought by heaven.

[To Lewis] Now shall I see thy love. What motive may

3.1.2441247Be stronger with thee than the name of wife?

That which upholdeth him that thee upholds,

3.1.2461249His honor. -- O, thine honor, Lewis, thine honor.

[To King Philip] I muse your majesty doth seem so cold

3.1.2481251When such profound respects do pull you on.

I will denounce a curse upon his head.

Thou shalt not need. England, I will fall from thee.

3.1.2511254Constance [Rising]

O fair return of banished majesty!

O foul revolt of French inconstancy!

France, thou shalt rue this hour within this hour.

Old Time the clock-setter, that bald sexton Time,

3.1.2551258Is it as he will? Well then, France shall rue.

[Rising] The Sun's o'ercast with blood. Fair day adieu.

3.1.2571260Which is the side that I must go withal?

3.1.2581261I am with both; each army hath a hand,

3.1.2591262And in their rage, I having hold of both,

3.1.2601263They whirl asunder and dismember me.

3.1.2611264Husband, I cannot pray that thou mayest win; --

3.1.2621265Uncle, I needs must pray that thou mayest lose; --

3.1.2631266Father, I may not wish the fortune thine; --

3.1.2641267Grandam, I will not wish thy wishes thrive.

3.1.2651268Whoever wins, on that side shall I lose,

3.1.2661269Assurèd loss, before the match be played.

Lady, with me, with me thy fortune lies.

There where my fortune lives, there my life dies.

Cousin, go draw our puissance together.

3.1.2701273France, I am burned up with inflaming wrath,

3.1.2711274A rage, whose heat hath this condition,

3.1.2721275That nothing can allay, nothing but blood --

3.1.2731276The blood and dearest-valued blood of France.

Thy rage shall burn thee up and thou shalt turn

3.1.2751278To ashes ere our blood shall quench that fire.

3.1.2761279Look to thyself. Thou art in jeopardy.

No more than he that threats. To arms let's hie.