Enter Prince Henry, Salisbury, and Bigot. PRINCE HENRY
It is too late. The life of all his blood
Is touched corruptibly, and his pure brain,
Which some suppose the soul’s frail dwelling-house,
Doth, by the idle comments that it makes,
Foretell the ending of mortality. 5 Enter Pembroke. PEMBROKE
His Highness yet doth speak, and holds belief
That being brought into the open air
It would allay the burning quality
Of that fell poison which assaileth him. PRINCE HENRY
Let him be brought into the orchard here. 10 Bigot exits. Doth he still rage? PEMBROKE
He is more patient
Than when you left him. Even now he sung. PRINCE HENRY
O vanity of sickness! Fierce extremes
In their continuance will not feel themselves. 15
Death, having preyed upon the outward parts,
Leaves them invisible, and his siege is now
Against the mind, the which he pricks and wounds
With many legions of strange fantasies,
Which in their throng and press to that last hold 20
Confound themselves. ’Tis strange that Death should
sing.
I am the cygnet to this pale faint swan,
Who chants a doleful hymn to his own death,
And from the organ-pipe of frailty sings 25
His soul and body to their lasting rest. SALISBURY
Be of good comfort, prince, for you are born
To set a form upon that indigest
Which he hath left so shapeless and so rude. | Prince Henry, Salisbury, and Lord Bigot are chatting in an orchard at Swinstead Abbey. Prince Henry says that his old man isn't doing so well: the poison has gone throughout his whole body, and his brain has been affected. Pembroke says that King John can still talk and suggests bringing him into the orchard. Hey, maybe all the fruit trees will make him feel better? He also mentions that the king has been acting a little loopy. Just moments ago, he was singing. This makes Prince Henry reflect on the nature of sickness in general; according to him, death first attacks the body, then the mind. |
King John brought in, attended by Bigot. KING JOHN
Ay, marry, now my soul hath elbow-room. 30
It would not out at windows nor at doors.
There is so hot a summer in my bosom
That all my bowels crumble up to dust.
I am a scribbled form drawn with a pen
Upon a parchment, and against this fire 35
Do I shrink up. PRINCE HENRY
How fares your Majesty? KING JOHN
Poisoned—ill fare—dead, forsook, cast off,
And none of you will bid the winter come
To thrust his icy fingers in my maw, 40
Nor let my kingdom’s rivers take their course
Through my burned bosom, nor entreat the North
To make his bleak winds kiss my parchèd lips
And comfort me with cold. I do not ask you much.
I beg cold comfort, and you are so strait 45
And so ingrateful, you deny me that. PRINCE HENRY
O, that there were some virtue in my tears
That might relieve you! KING JOHN
The salt in them is hot.
Within me is a hell, and there the poison 50
Is, as a fiend, confined to tyrannize
On unreprievable, condemnèd blood. Enter Bastard. BASTARD
O, I am scalded with my violent motion
And spleen of speed to see your Majesty. KING JOHN
O cousin, thou art come to set mine eye. 55
The tackle of my heart is cracked and burnt,
And all the shrouds wherewith my life should sail
Are turnèd to one thread, one little hair.
My heart hath one poor string to stay it by,
Which holds but till thy news be utterèd, 60
And then all this thou seest is but a clod
And module of confounded royalty. BASTARD
The Dauphin is preparing hitherward,
Where God He knows how we shall answer him.
For in a night the best part of my power, 65
As I upon advantage did remove,
Were in the Washes all unwarily
Devourèd by the unexpected flood. King John dies. | Lord Bigot and some other attendants carry in King John, who complains about the horrible pain he's in; he wants to die as quickly as possible because nothing can get rid of the burning sensation that is tormenting him. The Bastard arrives, warning everyone that Louis the Dauphin is on his way there. He doesn't know how they will resist him, seeing as most of his men got drowned by the tide on the way there. Just as he finishes these cheery tidings, King John dies. |
SALISBURY
You breathe these dead news in as dead an ear.—
My liege! My lord!—But now a king, now thus. 70 PRINCE HENRY
Even so must I run on, and even so stop.
What surety of the world, what hope, what stay,
When this was now a king and now is clay? BASTARD
Art thou gone so? I do but stay behind
To do the office for thee of revenge, 75
And then my soul shall wait on thee to heaven,
As it on Earth hath been thy servant still.—
Now, now, you stars, that move in your right spheres,
Where be your powers? Show now your mended
faiths 80
And instantly return with me again
To push destruction and perpetual shame
Out of the weak door of our fainting land.
Straight let us seek, or straight we shall be sought;
The Dauphin rages at our very heels. 85 SALISBURY
It seems you know not, then, so much as we.
The Cardinal Pandulph is within at rest,
Who half an hour since came from the Dauphin,
And brings from him such offers of our peace
As we with honor and respect may take, 90
With purpose presently to leave this war. BASTARD
He will the rather do it when he sees
Ourselves well-sinewèd to our defense. SALISBURY
Nay, ’tis in a manner done already,
For many carriages he hath dispatched 95
To the sea-side, and put his cause and quarrel
To the disposing of the Cardinal,
With whom yourself, myself, and other lords,
If you think meet, this afternoon will post
To consummate this business happily. 100 BASTARD
Let it be so.—And you, my noble prince,
With other princes that may best be spared,
Shall wait upon your father’s funeral. PRINCE HENRY
At Worcester must his body be interred,
For so he willed it. 105 BASTARD
Thither shall it, then,
And happily may your sweet self put on
The lineal state and glory of the land,
To whom with all submission on my knee
I do bequeath my faithful services 110
And true subjection everlastingly. He kneels. SALISBURY
And the like tender of our love we make
To rest without a spot forevermore. Salisbury, Pembroke, and Bigot kneel. PRINCE HENRY
I have a kind soul that would give you thanks
And knows not how to do it but with tears. 115 They rise. BASTARD
O, let us pay the time but needful woe,
Since it hath been beforehand with our griefs.
This England never did nor never shall
Lie at the proud foot of a conqueror
But when it first did help to wound itself. 120
Now these her princes are come home again,
Come the three corners of the world in arms
And we shall shock them. Naught shall make us rue,
If England to itself do rest but true. They exit, bearing the body of King John. | Salisbury and Prince Henry can't believe that a guy can be a king one moment, and a corpse the next. The Bastard says, "True that. But what I'm most worried about is the army of Louis the Dauphin, which is on its way here to give us all a royal thumping." Salisbury tells them not to worry. Cardinal Pandulph is inside—he just brought a message from Louis, who says he quits. The war is over, and Louis is already on his way to the coast to head back to France. Prince Henry starts planning his dad's funeral. He says he going to Worcester, because that's where King John wanted to be buried. The Bastard thinks this is a good idea. He swears his loyalty to Prince Henry; Salisbury does the same. Prince Henry tries to thank them, but he is all choked up with tears. The Bastard ends the play by making a patriotic speech saying that England only came this close to being conquered because the country was divided against itself. So long as England remains unified, he says, no one will be able to conquer it. And that's it. They all head out, carrying the king's body. What? You're not satisfied? Go to "What's Up With the Ending?" if you want more. |