Pandulph

King Philip
Good reverend father, make my person yours,
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.
The latest breath that gave the sound of words
Was deep-sworn faith,
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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,
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,
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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 heaven I were,
For then ’tis like I should forget myself.
O, if I could,
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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,
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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.
Pandulph
Before the curing of a strong disease,
Even in the instant of repair and health,
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How green you are and fresh in this old world!
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 evilly borne 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.
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Pandulph
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 colors now wind up,
And tame the savage spirit of wild war
That, like a lion fostered up at hand,
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Pandulph
The Dauphin is too willful-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.
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