PART I.
KING JOHN invades France, to chastise Philip for espousing the cause of Prince Arthur, the rightful heir to the English throne. In a battle before Angiers, Arthur is taken prisoner. Hubert, chamberlain to King John, is appointed Arthur"s keeper, with instructions to find some means of depriving the young prince of life.
SCENE-King John"s tent before Angiers.
K. John. Come hither, Hubert. O my gentle Hubert, We owe thee much; ……Give me thy hand. I had a thing to say, -But I will tit it with some better time.
In good sooth, Hubert, I am almost ashamed To say what good "respect I have of thee.
Hub. I am much bounden① to your majesty.
K. John. Good friend, thou hast no cause to say so yet, 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, Is all too wanton, and too full of gawds,To give me audience: -If the midnight bell Did, with his iron tongue and brazen mouth, Sound one unto the drowsy race of night;If this same were a churchyard where we stand. 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 eyesAnd 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 conceit③ alone,Without eyes, ears, and harmful sound of words; -Then, in despite of brooded watchful day,I would into thy bosom pour my thoughts: But, ah, I will not: -yet I love thee well;And, by my troth,④ I think thou lovest me well.
Hub. So well, that what you bid me undertake, Though that my death were adjunct to my act, Indeed, I"d do"t.
K. 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.
Hub.And I will keep him so,
That he shall not offend your majesty.
K. John.Death.
Hub. My lord?
K. John.A grave.
Hub.Heshall not live.
K. John.Enough.
I could be merry now: Hubert, I love thee.
Well, I"ll not say what Iintend for thee: Remember……Constance, mother to Prince Arthur, is overwhelmed with grief at the capture of her son.
SCENE-The French King"s tent .
Pand. Lady, you utter madness, and not sorrow.
Const. Thou art not holy, to belie me so; I am not mad: this hair I tear is mine;My name is Constance; I was Geffrey"sYoung Arthur is my son, and he is lost:
wife;
I am not mad;-I would, in sooth, I were For then, "tis like I should forget myself: O, if I could, what grief should I forget! -Preach some philosophy to make me mad…… If I were mad, I should forget my son:
I am not mad; too well, too well I feel
The different plague of each calamity.
K. Phi. Bind up those tresses. -O what love I note In the fair multitude of these her hairs!
When but by chance a silver drop hath fallen, Even to that drop ten thousand wiry friends Do glue themselves in sociable grief,Like true, inseparable, faithful lovers, Sticking together in calamity. -Bind up your hairs.
Const. 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. -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,There was not such a gracious creature born.
And cnase 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.
Pand. You hold too heinous a respect of grief.
Const. He talks to me that never had a son.⑧King Phi. You are as fond of grief as of your child.
Const. 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, Remembers⑨ 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. -I will not keep this form upon my head,［Tearing it off.
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!
My widow-comfort, and my sorrows" cure! ［Exit.
K. Phi. I fear some outrage, and I"ll follow her. ［ExitArthur, having been sent to England, is imprisoned in Northampton Castle. (Historically this is not true. Arthur was first sent to Falaise, then to Rouen; but Shakespeare"s arrangement of the play requires the scene to be laid in England.)SCENE-A Room in Northampton Castle.
Enter HUBERT, and two Attendants.
Hub. Heat me these irons hot⑩; and, look thou stand Within the arras : when I strike my footUpon 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.
1st Attend. I hope your warrant will bear out the deed.
Hub. Uncleanly scruples! Fear not you: look to"t.
［Exeunt Attendants. Young lad, come forth; I have to say with you.