K. Philip.
Here comes the holy legate of the Pope.

Pand.
Hail, you anointed deputies of heav'n.
To thee, King John, my holy errand is;
I Pandulph, of fair Milain Cardinal,
And from Pope Innocent the Legate here,
Do in his name religiously demand

Why thou against the church our holy mother
So wilfully dost spurn, and force perforce
Keep Stephen Langton, chosen Archbishop
Of Canterbury, from that holy see?
This in our foresaid holy father's name
Pope Innocent, I do demand of thee.

K. John.
What earthly name, to interrogatories
Can tax the free breath of a sacred King?
Thou canst not, Cardinal, devise a name
So slight, unworthy, and ridiculous
To charge me to an answer, as the Pope.
Tell him this tale, and from the mouth of England
Add thus much more, that no Italian priest
Shall tithe or toll in our dominions:
But as we under heav'n are supreme head,
So under it, that great supremacy
Where we do reign we will alone uphold,
Without th' assistance of a mortal hand.
So tell the Pope, all rev'rence set apart
To him and his usurp'd authority.

K. Philip.
Brother of England, you blaspheme in this.

K. John.
Though you, and all the Kings of Christendom
Are led so grosly by this medling priest,
Dreading the curse that mony may buy out;
And by the merit of vile gold, dross, dust,
Purchase corrupted pardon of a man,
Who in that sale sells pardon from himself:
Though you and all the rest so grosly led,
This jugling witch-craft with revenue cherish,
Yet I alone, alone, do me oppose
Against the Pope, and count his friends my foes.

Pand.
Then by the lawful power that I have,
Thou shalt stand curst, and excommunicate;

And blessed shall he be that doth revolt
From his allegiance to an heretick,
And meritorious shall that hand be call'd,
Canonized and worshipp'd as a saint,
That takes away by any secret course
Thy hateful life.

Const.
O lawful let it be
That I have leave with Rome to curse a while.
Good father Cardinal, cry thou Amen
To my keen curses; for without my wrong
There is no tongue hath pow'r to curse him right.

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

Const.
And for mine too; when law can do no right,
Let it be lawful that law bar no wrong:
Law cannot give my child his kingdom here;
For he that holds his kingdom, holds the law;
Therefore since law it self is perfect wrong,
How can the law forbid my tongue to curse?

Pand.
Philip of France, on peril of a curse,
Let go the hand of that Arch-heretick,
And raise the pow'r of France upon his head,
Unless he do submit himself to Rome.

Eli.
Look'st thou pale, France? do not let go thy hand.

Const.
Look to that, devil! lest that France repent,
And by disjoining hands, hell lose a soul.

Aust.
King Philip, listen to the Cardinal.

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

Aust.
Well, ruffian, I must pocket up these wrongs,
Because—

Bast.
Your breeches best may carry them.

K. John.
Philip, what say'st thou to the Cardinal?

Const.
What should he say, but as the Cardinal?

Lewis.
Bethink you father; for the difference,

Is purchase of a heavy curse from Rome,
Or the light loss of England for a friend;
Forgo the easier.

Blanch.
That's the curse of Rome.

Const.
Lewis, stand fast, the devil tempts thee here
In likeness of a new untrimmed bride.* ^note

K. Philip.
I am perplext, and know not what to say.

Pand.
What can'st thou say, but will perplex thee more,
If thou stand excommunicate and curst?

K. Philip.
Good rev'rend father, make my person yours,
And tell me how you would bestow your self?
This royal hand and mine are newly knit,
And the conjunction of our inward souls
Marry'd in league, coupled and link'd together
With all religious strength of sacred vows:
The latest breath, that gave the sound of words,
Was deep-sworn faith, peace, amity, true love
Between our kingdoms and our royal selves.
And ev'n before this truce, but new before,
No longer than we well could wash our hands
To clap this royal bargain up of peace,
Heav'n knows they were besmear'd and over-stain'd

With slaughter's pencil; where revenge did paint
The fearful diff'rence of incensed Kings.
And shall these hands, so lately purg'd of blood,
So newly join'd in love, so strong in both;
Unyoke this seisure, and this kind regreet?
Play fast and loose with faith? so jest with heav'n,
Make such unconstant children of our selves,
As now again to snatch our palm from palm?
Un-swear faith sworn, and on the marriage-bed
Of smiling peace, to march a bloody host,
And make a riot on the gentle brow
Of true sincerity? O holy Sir,
My reverend father, let it not be so;
Out of your grace, devise, ordain, impose
Some gentle order, and we shall be blest
To do your pleasure, and continue friends.

Pand.
All form is formless, order orderless,
Save what is opposite to England's love.
Therefore to arms, be champion of our church.
Or let the church our mother breathe her curse,
A mother's curse on her revolting son.
France, thou may'st hold a serpent by the tongue,
A ^{a note}chased Lyon by the mortal paw,
A fasting Tyger safer by the tooth,
Than keep in peace that hand which thou dost hold.

K. Philip.
I may dis-join my hand, but not my faith.

Pand.
So mak'st thou faith an enemy to faith;
And like a civil war set'st oath to oath,
Thy tongue against thy tongue. O let thy vow
First made to heav'n, first be to heav'n perform'd,
That is, to be the champion of our church.
What since thou swor'st, is sworn against thy self,

And may not be performed by thy self.
For that which thou hast sworn to do amiss,
Is not amiss, when it is truly done:
And being not done, where doing tends to ill,
The truth is then most done, not doing it.
The better act of purposes mistook
Is to mistake again, though indirect,
Yet indirection thereby grows direct
And falshood falshood cures, as fire cools fire
Within the scorched veins of one new-burn'd.
It is religion that doth make vows kept,
But thou hast sworn against religion:
By what thou swear'st, against the thing thou swear'st:
And mak'st an oath the surety for thy truth,
Against an oath the truth thou art unsure
To swear, swear only not to be forsworn;
Else what a mockery should it be to swear?
But thou dost swear, only to be forsworn,
And most forsworn, to keep what thou dost swear.
Therefore thy latter vows, against thy first,
Is in thy self rebellion to thy self:
And better conquest never canst thou make,
Than arm thy constant and thy nobler parts
Against these giddy, loose suggestions:
Upon which better part, our pray'rs come in,
If thou vouchsafe them. But if not, then know
The peril of our curses light on thee
So heavy as thou shalt not shake them off,
But in despair, die under their black weight.

Aust.
Rebellion, flat rebellion.

Bast.
Will't not be?
Will not a Calve's-skin stop that mouth of thine?

Lewis.
Father, to arms.

Blanch.
Upon thy wedding-day?
Against the blood that thou hast married?
What, shall our feast be kept with slaughter'd men?
Shall braying trumpets, and loud churlish drums,
Clamours of hell, be measures to our pomp?
O husband, hear me: ay, alack, how new
Is husband in my mouth? ev'n for that name
Which 'till this time my tongue did ne'er pronounce,
Upon my knee I beg, go not to arms
Against mine uncle.

Const.
O, upon my knee,
Made hard with kneeling, I do pray to thee,
Thou virtuous Dauphin, alter not the doom
Forethought by heav'n.

Blanch.
Now shall I see thy love, what motive may
Be stronger with thee than the name of wife?

Const.
That which upholdeth him, that thee upholds,
His honour. Oh thine honour, Lewis, thine honour.

Lewis.
I muse your Majesty doth seem so cold,
When such profound respects do pull you on?

Pand.
I will denounce a curse upon his head.

K. Philip.
Thou shalt not need. England, I'll fall from thee.

Const.
O fair return of banish'd majesty!

Eli.
O foul revolt of French inconstancy!

K. John.
France, thou shalt rue this hour within this hour.

Bast.
Old Time the clock-setter, that bald sexton, time,
Is it, as he will? well then, France shall rue.

Blanch.
The sun's o'ercast with blood: fair day adieu.
Which is the side that I must go withal?
I am with both, each army hath a hand,
And in their rage, I having hold of both,
They whirl asunder, and dismember me.
Husband, I cannot pray that thou may'st win:

Uncle, I needs must pray that thou may'st lose:
Father, I may not wish the fortune thine:
Grandam, I will not wish thy wishes thrive:
Whoever wins, on that side shall I lose:
Assured loss, before the match be play'd.

Lewis.
Lady with me, with me thy fortune lies.

Blanch.
There where my fortune lives, there my life dies.

K. John.
Cousin, go draw our puissance together. [Ex. Bast.
France, I am burn'd up with inflaming wrath,
A rage, whose heat hath this condition;
That nothing can allay, nothing but blood,
The blood, and dearest valu'd blood of France.

K. Philip.
Thy rage shall burn thee up, and thou shalt turn
To ashes, ere our blood shall quench that fire:
Look to thy self, thou art in jeopardy.

K. John.
No more than he that threats. To arms let's hie. [Exeunt.

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