King John by William Shakespeare
Act 5 - Scene 7
The orchard in Swinstead Abbey.
Prince Henry : It is too late: the life of all his blood
[p]Is touch'd corruptibly,
and his pure brain,
[p]Which some suppose the soul's frail
dwelling-house,
[p]Doth by the idle comments that it makes
[p]Foretell
the ending of mortality.
Pembroke : His highness yet doth speak, and holds belief
[p]That, being brought
into the open air,
[p]It would allay the burning quality
[p]Of that
fell poison which assaileth him.
Prince Henry : Let him be brought into the orchard here.
[p]Doth he still rage?
Pembroke : He is more patient
[p]Than when you left him; even now he sung.
Prince Henry : O vanity of sickness! fierce extremes
[p]In their continuance will not
feel themselves.
[p]Death, having prey'd upon the outward
parts,
[p]Leaves them invisible, and his siege is now
[p]Against the
mind, the which he pricks and wounds
[p]With many legions of strange
fantasies,
[p]Which, in their throng and press to that last
hold,
[p]Confound themselves. 'Tis strange that death
[p]should
sing.
[p]I am the cygnet to this pale faint swan,
[p]Who chants a
doleful hymn to his own death,
[p]And from the organ-pipe of frailty
sings
[p]His soul and body to their lasting rest.
Salisbury : Be of good comfort, prince; for you are born
[p]To set a form upon
that indigest
[p]Which he hath left so shapeless and so rude.
King John : Ay, marry, now my soul hath elbow-room;
[p]It would not out at windows
nor at doors.
[p]There is so hot a summer in my bosom,
[p]That all my
bowels crumble up to dust:
[p]I am a scribbled form, drawn with a
pen
[p]Upon a parchment, and against this fire
[p]Do I shrink up.
Prince Henry : How fares your majesty?
King John : Poison'd,--ill fare--dead, forsook, cast off:
[p]And none of you will
bid the winter come
[p]To thrust his icy fingers in my maw,
[p]Nor let
my kingdom's rivers take their course
[p]Through my burn'd bosom, nor
entreat the north
[p]To make his bleak winds kiss my parched
lips
[p]And comfort me with cold. I do not ask you much,
[p]I beg cold
comfort; and you are so strait
[p]And so ingrateful, you deny me
that.
Prince Henry : O that there were some virtue in my tears,
[p]That might relieve you!
King John : The salt in them is hot.
[p]Within me is a hell; and there the
poison
[p]Is as a fiend confined to tyrannize
[p]On unreprievable
condemned blood.
Philip the Bastard : O, I am scalded with my violent motion,
[p]And spleen of speed to see
your majesty!
King John : O cousin, thou art come to set mine eye:
[p]The tackle of my heart is
crack'd and burn'd,
[p]And all the shrouds wherewith my life should
sail
[p]Are turned to one thread, one little hair:
[p]My heart hath
one poor string to stay it by,
[p]Which holds but till thy news be
uttered;
[p]And then all this thou seest is but a clod
[p]And module
of confounded royalty.
Philip the Bastard : The Dauphin is preparing hitherward,
[p]Where heaven He knows how we
shall answer him;
[p]For in a night the best part of my power,
[p]As I
upon advantage did remove,
[p]Were in the Washes all
unwarily
[p]Devoured by the unexpected flood.
Salisbury : You breathe these dead news in as dead an ear.
[p]My liege! my lord!
but now a king, now thus.
Prince Henry : Even so must I run on, and even so stop.
[p]What surety of the world,
what hope, what stay,
[p]When this was now a king, and now is clay?
Philip the Bastard : Art thou gone so? I do but stay behind
[p]To do the office for thee of
revenge,
[p]And then my soul shall wait on thee to heaven,
[p]As it on
earth hath been thy servant still.
[p]Now, now, you stars that move in
your right spheres,
[p]Where be your powers? show now your mended
faiths,
[p]And instantly return with me again,
[p]To push destruction
and perpetual shame
[p]Out of the weak door of our fainting
land.
[p]Straight let us seek, or straight we shall be sought;
[p]The
Dauphin rages at our very heels.
Salisbury : It seems you know not, then, so much as we:
[p]The Cardinal Pandulph
is within at rest,
[p]Who half an hour since came from the
Dauphin,
[p]And brings from him such offers of our peace
[p]As we with
honour and respect may take,
[p]With purpose presently to leave this
war.
Philip the Bastard : He will the rather do it when he sees
[p]Ourselves well sinewed to our
defence.
Salisbury : Nay, it is in a manner done already;
[p]For many carriages he hath
dispatch'd
[p]To the sea-side, and put his cause and quarrel
[p]To the
disposing of the cardinal:
[p]With whom yourself, myself and other
lords,
[p]If you think meet, this afternoon will post
[p]To consummate
this business happily.
Philip the Bastard : Let it be so: and you, my noble prince,
[p]With other princes that may
best be spared,
[p]Shall wait upon your father's funeral.
Prince Henry : At Worcester must his body be interr'd;
[p]For so he will'd it.
Philip the Bastard : Thither shall it then:
[p]And happily may your sweet self put
on
[p]The lineal state and glory of the land!
[p]To whom with all
submission, on my knee
[p]I do bequeath my faithful services
[p]And
true subjection everlastingly.
Salisbury : And the like tender of our love we make,
[p]To rest without a spot for
evermore.
Prince Henry : I have a kind soul that would give you thanks
[p]And knows not how to
do it but with tears.
Philip the Bastard : O, let us pay the time but needful woe,
[p]Since it hath been
beforehand with our griefs.
[p]This England never did, nor never
shall,
[p]Lie at the proud foot of a conqueror,
[p]But when it first
did help to wound itself.
[p]Now these her princes are come home
again,
[p]Come the three corners of the world in arms,
[p]And we shall
shock them. Nought shall make us rue,
[p]If England to itself do rest
but true.
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Next: Act 5 - Scene 7
