Introduction
King John is generally regarded as the most obscure of the 10 history plays. It is not nearly as impressive as Richard II, Henry IV (parts I and II), Henry V, or Richard III and not as well developed or as captivating as Henry VI (parts I, II, III) or as spectacular a pageant as Henry VIII. It rarely gets staged or even read.
When it is revealed that Philip is actually the bastard son of King John’s brother and previous King, Richard the Lionheart, John immediately knights him and takes him under his tutelage. This bastard, Philip, swaggers throughout the court and the play with a mocking confidence. The bastard alone is a fully develop and impressive character, which makes him outshine all others in the play. He is one of Shakespeare’s earliest great protagonists. King John himself is buffoon-like and only on the throne because of the death of his well loved brother, Richard the Lionhearted, and the young age of Richard’s son, Arthur. John is, in fact, a terribly unpopular monarch, unfit to rule and despised by his own lords and his European neighbours, France and Austria. King John fumbles into a war with France and is excommunicated from the Catholic Church by the Pope. The King of France demands that he abdicate his throne and give it to his goodly nephew, Arthur. John imprisons Arthur as a false claimant to the throne, and orders his death, but his killer can’t bring himself to kill the saintly Arthur, who winds up killing himself trying to escape prison. The French invade England and Philip the Bastard fights heroically, while the ineffective King John is poisoned and dies. In many ways King John and the Bastard are mirror images of one another, moving in totally opposite directions. As John’s power is collapsing all around him the Bastard grows in prominence and heroism. Although thought of as a serious play, in performance King John can be presented as ironic and, at times, farcical, turning the king’s court into a pack of knaves.
The theme that ‘blood follows blood’ resonates throughout Shakespeare’s plays. Henry the IV is forever haunted by his responsibility for the death of Richard II. Richard III is destroyed as a result of his murderous tendencies and Henry VI is dripping with bloody scene after bloody scene. MacBeth, Hamlet, Lear, Antony and Cleopatra and Coriolanus all succumb to violent deaths following a trail of blood. Attaining the throne undeservedly is a sure fired way to guarantee your own bloody downfall and that is the fate awaiting the incompetent King John. He tries desperately to hold power by repressing and destroying a more legitimate rival in Arthur, King Richard the Lionheart’s son. External war and civil strife inevitably follows. All of Shakespeare’s other bastards, including King Lear’s Edmund, are tragically rendered. However, Philip is one Shakespearean bastard who prevails rather stunningly. King John may not be as polished or as highly regarded as the other histories but its themes of honour and suitability for the throne and the presentation of so well developed a character as Philip the Bastard in a play with plenty of energy have provided very attractive and compelling features which continue to resonate today. Although King John is remembered by history for his signing of the Magna Carta, Shakespeare never even references this.
Act I (1 scene)
Scene i
King John’s palace
Enter King John, Queen Elinor (his mother), Essex and Chatillon (ambassador from France)
King John: “Now say, Chatillon, what would France with us?”
Chatillon: “Thus speaks the King of France to his majesty, the borrowed majesty, of England.”
Elinor: “A strange beginning – ‘borrowed majesty’!”
King John: “Silence, good mother, hear the embassy.”
Chatillon: “Philip of France, in right and true behalf of thy deceased brother Geffrey’s son, Arthur, lays most lawful claim to this fair island, desiring thee to lay aside the sword which sways usurpingly, and put the same into young Arthur’s hand, thy nephew and right royal sovereign.”
King John: “What follows if we disallow of this?”
Chatillon: “Fierce and bloody war, to enforce these rights so forcibly withheld.”
King John: “Here have we war for war, and blood for blood – so answer France.”
Chatillon: “Then take my King’s defiance from my mouth.”
King John: “Bear mine to him and so depart in peace. For ere thou can report I will be there, the thunder of my canon shall be heard. So hence! Be thou the trumpet of our wrath and sullen presage of your own decay. Farewell Chatillon.”
Exit Chatillon
Elinor: “What now, my son! Have I not ever said how that ambitious Constance would not cease until she had kindled France and all the world upon the right of her son?”
King John: “Our strong possession and our right for us!”
Elinor: “Your strong possession much more than your right; so much my conscience whispers in your ear, which none but heaven and you and I shall hear.”
Essex: “My liege, here is the strangest controversy come from the county to be judged by you that I ever heard.”
King John: “Let them approach.”
Enter Robert Falconbridge and Philip, his bastard brother.
Bastard: “Your faithful subject I, a gentleman and oldest son, as I suppose, to Robert Faulconbridge.”
King John: “What art thou?”
Robert: “The son and heir to that same Faulonbridge.”
King John: “You came not of one mother then, it seems.”
Bastard: “Most certain of one mother, mighty king – that is well known – and, as I think, one father; but for the certain knowledge of that truth, I put you over to heaven and my mother.”
Elinor: “Out on thee, rude man! Thou does shame thy mother.”
Bastard: “I, madam? No. That is my brother’s plea, and none of mine; the which if he can prove, it pops me out at least from fair five-hundred pounds a year. Heaven guard my mother’s honour and my land!”
King John: “A good blunt fellow. Why does he lay claim to thy inheritance?”
Bastard: “I know not why, except to get the land. But once he slandered me with bastardy; but wherever I be as true begot or no, that still I lay upon my mother’s head; compare our faces and be judged thyself. If old Sir Robert did beget us both I give heaven thanks I was not like to thee.”
King John: ‘Why, what a madcap has heaven lent us here!”
Elinor: “He has a trick of Richard the Lionheart’s face; do you not read some tokens of my son in the large composition of this man?”
King John: “My eye has well examined his parts and finds them perfect Richard.”
Robert: “My gracious liege, when that my father lived your brother did employ my father much.”
Bastard: “Well, sir, your tale must be how he employed my mother.”
Robert: “And once dispatched him in an embassy in Germany. The advantage of his absence took the King, sojourned at my father’s, where how he did prevail I shame to speak – but truth is truth: large lengths of seas and shores between my father and my mother lay when this same lusty gentleman was got. Upon his death-bed he by will bequeathed his lands to me, and took it on his death that this my mother’s son was none of his. Then, my good liege, let me have what is mine, my father’s land, as was my father’s will.”
King John: “Your father’s wife, if she did play false, the fault was hers; which felt lies on the hazards of all husband who marry wives. This concludes: my mother’s son did get your father’s heir.”
Elinor: “I like thee well. Will thou forsake thy fortune, bequeath thy land to him and follow me?”
Bastard: “Brother, take you my land, and I’ll take my chance. Madam, I’ll follow you unto the death.”
King John: “What is thy name?”
Basard: “Philip, my liege.”
King John: “From henceforth bear his name whose form thou bears: kneel thou down Philip, but rise more great – arise Sir Richard and Plantagenet.”
Bastard: “Now blessed be the hour, by night or day, when I was got, Sir Robert was away!”
Elinor: “The very spirit of Plantagenet! I am thy grandam, Richard: call me so.”
King John: “Go Faulconbridge, now thou has thy desire. Come, madam, and come, Richard, we must speed for France.”
Bastard: “Brother, adieu. Good fortune come to thee! For thou was got in the way of honesty.”
Exit all but the Bastard.
“A foot of honour better than I was; but many a many foot of land the worse. But this is worshipful society, and fits the mounting spirit like myself. But who comes in such haste in riding-robes? What woman-post is this?”
Enter Lady Faulconbridge
Bastard: “O me, tis my mother! How now, good lady! What brings you here to the court so hastily?”
Lady Faulconbridge: “Where is that slave, thy brother?”
Bastard: “Is it Sir Robert’s son that you seek so?”
Lady Faulconbridge: “Ay, thy unreverend boy. He is Sir Robert’s son, and so art thou.”
Bastard: “Madam, I was not old Sir Robert’s son. Sir Robert could not do it. Therefore, good mother, to whom am I beholdened for these limbs?”
Lady Faulconbridge: “Has thou conspired with thy brother too? What means this scorn, thou most untoward knave?”
Bastard: “But, mother, I am not Sir Robert’s son: I have disclaimed Sir Robert and my land; and all is gone. Then, good my mother, let me know my father – some proper man, I hope. Who was it, mother?”
Lady Faulconbridge: “Has thou denied thyself a Faulconbridge?”
Bastard: “As faithfully as I deny the devil.”
Lady Faulconbridge: “King Richard the Lionheart was thy father. By long and vehement suit was I seduced to make room for him in my husband’s bed. Thou art the issue of my dear offence, which was so strongly urged past my defence.”
Bastard: “Madam, I would not wish a better father. Some sins do bear their privilege on earth, and so does yours: your fault was not your folly. He that perforce robs lions of their hearts may easily win a woman’s. Ay, my mother, with all my heart I thank thee for my father! Who lives and dares but say thou did not well when I was got, I’ll send his soul to hell. Come, lady, I will show thee to my kin.”
Summary and Analysis
This first one scene act, per typical, lays out the foundation of the play. We see that France demands that King John abdicate in favour of his elder brother’s son, Arthur. When the king refuses, France as much as declares war on England. Even his own mother insists that his present possession of the crown presents a stronger case for keeping it then does his right to the crown itself. The question of his lack of legitimacy for the crown will plague him throughout his hapless reign. Next, the bastard arrives and we learn that he is, in fact, the son of King Richard the Lionheart, born of an illicit affair between the King and the Bastard’s mother while his father was away in Germany. His very own mother admits this and King John and Elinor acknowledge the physical resemblance of the bastard to King Richard. The Bastard is welcomed into the royal court as family and proclaimed Sir Richard. He is also thrilled: “Ay, my mother, with all my heart I thank thee for my father.” This is a play about legitimacy, one of Shakespeare’s regular themes throughout his plays about kingship. Many a monarch falls due to either a question of his hereditary inheritance rights or because of his sheer incompetency. King John fails both tests. When his brother, King Richard (the Lionheart) died, by all accounts the throne should have gone to either his elder brother, Geffrey or Geffrey’s eldest son, Arthur. But Arthur was merely a young boy and John took advantage and seized the crown. His mother, Elinor, supports his weak claim, but the powerful lords of England and the other heads of Europe, including the Pope, do not. And again, it does not help his cause that he also happens to be a terrible king. The bastard son of King Richard the Lionheart chooses to abandon his claims as a landed heir of Faulconbridge and to proceed as the bastard son of the former king, which brings him into the court of King John, where he will do extraordinarily well. It should be mentioned that the Bastard is Shakespeare’s fictional creation and not a historical character. That being said, he will transcend his role as a court agitator to become a most responsible, heroic character and easily the most interesting of the play, often regarded as Shakespeare’s most well rounded creation to date.
Act II (1 scene)
Scene i
France, before Algiers.
Enter Austrian forces, King Philip of France, Lewis (the Dauphin), Constance and Arthur.
King Philip: “Arthur, that great forerunner of thy blood, Richard, that robbed the lion of his heart and fought the holy wars in Palestine, came early to his grave; and for amends to his posterity, boy, in thy behalf, rebuke the usurpation of thy unnatural uncle, English John.”
Arthur: “I give you welcome with a powerless hand, but with a heart full of unstained love.”
King Philip: “A noble boy! Who would not do thee right?”
Austria: “Upon thy cheek lay I this zealous kiss as seal to my love, that to my home I will no more return till the right thou has in France, together with that white-faced shore, even till that England salute thee for her king. Till then, fair boy, will I not think of home, but follow arms.”
Constance: “O, take his mother’s thanks, a widow’s thanks, till your strong hand shall help to give him strength.”
Austria: “The peace of heaven is theirs who lift their swords in such a just and charitable war.”
King Philip: “Well then, to work! Our cannon shall be bent against the brows of this resisting town. But we will make it subject to this boy.”
Enter Chatillon
King Philip: “Our messenger, Chatillon, has arrived. What England says, say briefly, gentle lord; Chatillon, speak.”
Chatillon: “Then turn your forces from this paltry siege and stir them up against a mightier task. England, impatient of your just demands, has put himself in arms. The adverse winds have given him time to land his legions all; his marches are expedient to this town, his forces strong, his soldiers confident. With him along has come the mother-queen; with them a bastard of the king’s deceased. In brief, a braver choice of dauntless spirits did never float upon the swelling tide to do offence and scathe in Christendom. They are at hand, to parley or fight, therefore prepare.”
Austria: “Courage mounts with occasion. Let them be welcome then; we are prepared.”
Enter King John, Elinor, Blanche and the Bastard
King John: “Peace be to France, if France in peace permit our just and lineal entrance to our own! If not, bleed France, and peace ascend to heaven, while we, God’s wrathful agent, do correct their proud contempt that beats his peace to heaven.”
King Philip: “Peace be to England, if that war return from France to England, there to live in peace! England we love, but thou from loving England art so far that thou has under-wrought his lawful king, and done a rape upon the maiden virtue of the crown. Look here upon they brother-in-law’s Geffrey’s face: these eyes, these brows, were moulded out of his; this little abstract does contain that large which died in Geffrey, and the hand of time shall draw this brief into as huge a volume. That Geffrey was thy elder brother born, and this his son; England was Geffrey’s right, and this is Geffrey’s. In the name of God, how comes it that thou are called a king, when living blood does in these temples beat which owe the crown to that thou over-masters?”
King John: “From whom has thou this great commission, France?”
King Philip: “From that supernal judge that stirs good thoughts in any breast of strong authority to look into the blots and stains of right. That judge has made me guardian to this boy, under whose warrant I impeach thy wrong, and by whose help I mean to chastise it.”
King John: “Alack, thou does usurp authority.”
Elinor: “Who is it thou does call usurper, France?”
Constance: “Let me make answer; thy usurping son.”
Elinore: “Out, insolent! Thy bastard shall be king, that thou may be a queen and check the world!”
Constance: “My bed was ever to thy son as true as thine was to your husband; and this boy liker in feature to his father Geffrey than thou and John in manners. My boy a bastard! By my soul, I think his father never was so true begot. There’s a good grandam, boy, who would blot thee.”
Austria: “What the devil art thou?”
Bastard: “One who will play the devil, sir, with you and I may catch your hide and you alone. I’ll smoke your skin-coat, sirrah, look to it; faith I will.”
Austria: “What cracker is this same who deals our ears with this abundance of superfluous breath?”
King Philip: “Women and fools, break off your conference. King John, this is the very sum of all: England and Ireland, Anjou, Touraine, Maine in right of Arthur, do I claim of thee; will thou resign them and lay down thy arms?”
King John: “My life as soon. I do defy thee, France. Arthur of Britain, yield thee to my hand, and out of my dear love I’ll give thee more than ever the coward hand of France can win. Submit thee, boy.”
Elinor: “Come to thy grandam, child.”
Constance: “Do, child, give grandam kingdom and grandam will give a plum, a cherry and a fig.”
Arthur: “Good my mother, peace! I would that I were low laid in my grave: I am not worth this coil that’s made for thee.”
Elinor: “His mother shames him, so poor boy, he weeps.”
Constance: “His grandam’s wrongs, and not his mother’s shame, draw those heaven-moving pearls from his poor eyes.”
Elinor: “Thou monstrous slanderer of heaven and earth!”
Constance: “Thou monstrous injurer of heaven and earth. Call me not slanderer! Thou and thine usurp the dominations and rights of this oppressed boy, this is thy eldest son’s son, unfortunate in nothing but in thee. Thy sins are visited in this poor child; the canon of the law is laid on him, being but the second generation removed from thy sin-conceiving womb.”
King John: “Bedlam, have done.”
Constance: “I have but this to say: her sin is his injury; a plague upon her!”
Elinor: “Thou unadvised scold, I can produce a will that bars the title of thy son.”
Constance: “Ay, who doubts that? A will, a wicked will; a woman’s will; a cankered grandam’s will.”
King Philip: “Peace, lady! Pause or be more temperate. Summon hither to the walls these men of Angiers; let us hear them speak whose title they admit, Arthur’s or John’s.
Trumpet sounds. Enter citizens upon the walls.
Citizens: “Who is it that has warned us to the walls?”
King Philip: “Tis France, for England.”
King John: “England for itself. Hear us first. These flags of France. Their cannons have their bowels full of wrath, and ready mounted are they to spit forth their iron’s indignation against your walls, and wide havoc made for bloody power to rush upon your peace. But on the sight of us your lawful king, instead of bullets wrapped in fire, to make a shaking fever in your walls, they shoot but calm words folded up in smoke to make a faithless error in your ears. Kind citizens, let us in – your king craves harbourage within your city walls.”
King Philip: “When I have said, make answer to us both. Lo, in this right hand, whose protection is most divinely vowed upon the right of him it holds, stands young Plantagenet, son to the elder brother of this man. Be pleased then to pay that duty which you truly owe to him who owes it, namely, this young prince; and then our arms, like to a muzzled bear, we will bare home that lusty blood again which here we came to spout against your town, and leave your children, wives, and you, in peace. But if you fondly pass our proffered offer, tis not the rounder of your old-faced walls can hide you from our messengers of war, though all these English were harboured in their rude circumference. Then tell us, shall your city call us lord or shall we give the sign to our rage, and stalk in blood to our possession?”
Citizens: “In brief: we are the King of England’s subjects; for him, and in his right, we hold this town.”
King John: “Acknowledge then the King, and let me in.”
Citizens: “That can we not; but he that proves he King, to him we will prove loyal. Till that time we have rammed up our gates against the world.”
King John: “Does not the crown of England prove the king? And if not that, I bring you witnesses: twice fifteen thousand hearts of England’s breed, to verify our title with their lives.”
Citizens: “Till you compound whose right is worthiest, we for the worthiest hold the right from both.”
French Herald: “You men of Angiers, open wide your gates and let young Arthur in, who by the hand of France this day has made much work for tears in many an English mother, whose sons lie scattered on the bleeding ground; many a widow’s husband grovelling lies, coldly embracing the discoloured earth; and victory with little loss does play upon the dancing banners of the French, who are at hand to enter conquerers, and to proclaim Arthur England’s king and yours.”
English Herald: “Rejoice, you men of Angiers, ring your bells: King John, your king and England’s, does approach, commander of this hot malicious day. Their armours hither return all gilt with Frenchmen’s blood. And like a jolly troop of huntsmen come our lusty English, with purpled hands, dyed in the dying slaughter of their foes. Open your gates and give the victors way.”
Citizens: “Heralds, from off our towers we behold both your armies. Blood has brought blood, and blows have answered blows, but are alike, and both alike we like. One must prove greatest. While thy weigh so even, we hold our town for neither, yet for both.”
Enter the two Kings
King John: “Has thou yet more blood to cast away?”
King Philip: “England, thou has not saved one drop of blood in this hot trial more than we of France; rather, lost more. And by this hand I swear, before we will lay down our just-bourne arms, we’ll put thee down.”
Bastard: “Ha, majesty! Cry ‘havoc’ kings; back to the stained field, you equal potents, fiery kindled spirits! Then let confusion of one part confirm the other’s peace. Till then, blows, blood and death!”
King John: “Whose party do the townsmen yet admit?”
King Philip: “Speak, citizens, for England; who’s you’re king?”
Citizens: “The King of England, when we know the King. A greater power than we denies all this; and till it be undoubted, we do lock our former scruples in our strong-barred gates; until our fears, resolved, be by some certain king purged and deposed.”
Bastard: “By heaven, Angiers flout you, kings, and stand securely on your battlements as in a theatre, whence they gape and point at your industrious scenes and acts of death. Your royal presences be ruled by me: do like the rebels of Jerusalem, be friends awhile, and both conjointly bend your sharpest deeds of malice on this town. Let France and England mount their battering cannon till their soul-fearing clamours have brawled down the flinty ribs of this contemptuous city. That done, part your mingling colours once again, turn face to face and bloody point to point; then in a moment of fortune shall cull forth out of one side her happy minion, to whom in favour she shall give the day. How like you this wild counsel, mighty states?”
King John: “I like it well. France, shall we knit our powers and lay this Angiers even with the ground; then after fight who shall be king of it?”
Bastard: “If thou has the mettle of a king, being wronged as we are by this peevish town, turn thou the mouth of thy artillery, as we will ours, against these saucy walls; and when that we have dashed them to the ground, why then defy each other, and pell-mell make work upon ourselves, for heaven or hell.”
King Philip: “Let it be so. Say, where will you assault?”
King John: “We from the west will send destruction into this city’s bosom.”
Austria: “I from the north.”
King Philip; “Our thunder from the south shall rain.”
Bastard: (aside) “O prudent discipline! From north to south Austria and France shoot into each other’s mouth.”
Citizens: “Hear us, great kings; vouchsafe awhile to stay, and I shall show you peace; win you this city without stroke or wound. Persever not, but hear me, mighty kings.”
King John: “Speak on with favour; we are bent to hear.”
Citizens: “That daughter there of Spain, the Lady Blanch, is niece to England; look upon the years of Lewis the Dauphin and that lovely maid. If lusty love should go in quest of beauty, where should he find it fairer than in Blanch? If zealous love should go in search of virtue, where should he find it purer than in Blanch? If love ambitious sought a match at birth, whose veins bound richer blood than Blanch? Such as she is, in beauty, virtue, birth, is the long Dauphin every way complete. He is the half part of a blessed man, left to be finished by such as she; and she a fair divided excellence, whose fulness of perfection lies in him. Two such controlling bounds shall you be, kings, to these two princes, if you marry them. At this match the mouth of passage shall we fling wide open and give you entrance.”
Bastard: “Here’s a stay that shakes the rotten carcass of old death out of his rags! Zounds! I was never so bethumped with words.”
Elinor: “Son, list to this conjunction, make this match; for by this knot thou shall so surely tie thy now unsured assurance to the crown.”
Citizens: “Why answer not the double majesties?”
King Philip: “Speak England first. What say you?”
King John: “If that the Dauphin there, thy princely son, can in this book of beauty read ‘I love’, her dowry shall weigh equal with a queen; for Anjou, and fair Tourains, Maine, Poictiers, and all that we upon this side the sea, except this city now by us besieged, shall gild her bridal bed, and make her rich in titles, honours and promotions, as she in beauty, education, blood holds hand with any princess of the world.”
King Philip: “What says thou, boy? Look in the lady’s face.”
Lewis: “I do, my lord, and in her eye I find a wonder, or a wondrous miracle. I do protest I never loved myself till now infixed I beheld myself drawn in the flattering table of her eye.”
Bastard: (aside) “He does espy himself love’s traitor. This is pity now, that there should be in such a love so vile a lout as he.”
Blanch: “My uncle’s will in this respect is mine. Anything he sees which moves his liking I can with ease translate it to my will; or if you will, to speak more properly, I will enforce it easily to my love. Further, I will not flatter you, my lord, that all I see in you is worthy love. Nothing do I see in you that I can find should merit any hate.”
King John: “Speak then, Prince Dauphin: can you love this lady?”
Lewis: “Nay, ask me if I can refrain from love; for I do love her most unfeignedly.”
King John: “Then do I give Volquessen, Touraine, Maine, Poictiers, and Anjou, these five provinces, with her to thee; and this addition more, full thirty thousand marks of English coin. Philip of France, if thou be pleased withal, command thy son and daughter to join hands.”
King Philip: “It likes us well; young princes, close your hands.”
Austria: “And your lips too.”
King Philip: “Now, citizens of Angiers, open your gates, let in that amity which you have made; for at St Mary’s Chapel presently the rights of marriage shall be solemnized. Is not the Lady Constance in this troop? Where is she and her son? Tell me, who knows?
Lewis: “She is sad and passionate at your highness’ tent.”
King Philip: “And by my faith, this league that we have made will give her sadness very little cure. Brother of England, how may we content this widow lady? In her right we came; which we, God knows, have turned another way, to our own vantage.”
King John: “We will heal up all. For we’ll create young Arthur Duke of Britain and Earl of Richmond. Call the Lady Constance; I trust we shall in some measure satisfy her.”
Exit all but the Bastard
Bastard: “Mad world! Mad kings! Mad composition! John, to stop Arthur’s title in the whole, has willingly departed with a part; and France, whom zeal and charity brought to the field rounded in the ear with that same purpose-changer, that sly devil, that broker that still breaks the pate of faith, that daily vow-breaker, he that wins of all, of kings, of beggars, old men, young men, maids, that smooth faced gentleman: tickling commodity. Commodity, the bias of the world. This advantage, this commodity, this bawd, this broker, clapped on the outward eye of fickle France, has drawn him from his own determined aid, from a resolved and honourable war, to a most base and vile-concluded peace. And why rail I on this commodity? But for because he has not woo’d me yet; not that I have the power to clutch my hand, but for my hand, as unattempted yet, like a poor beggar rails on the rich. Well, while I am a beggar, I will rail and say there is no sin but to be rich; and being rich, my virtue then will be to say there is no vice but beggary. Since kings break faith upon commodity, gain, be my lord, for I will worship thee.”
Summary and Analysis
King Philip of France tries to convince Arthur that as his father, Geffrey is the elder brother of King John, he should ‘rebuke the usurpation of his unnatural uncle, English King John’. The King of Austria vows that his army will remain in the field until Arthur becomes King of England. Arthur’s mother, Constance, is grateful for France and Austria’s support. King Philip learns that King John has outright rejected this suggestion and has accompanied an army to France to defend possession of his crown. He is joined by his mother, Elinor, and his newly determined Bastard nephew. Before the town of Angiers King John and King Philip argue over who has the right to the English crown. Elinor and Constance, the mothers of the two claimants, exchange bitter hostilities, as well. Both sides claim possession of Angiers, but the citizens who arm the walls of the city will admit neither side until one prevails over the other. The armies engage in a battle that is inconclusive. The Bastard next proposes that the English and French forces unite to destroy Angiers before then resuming their contest against one another. Both sides agree but then the citizens of Angiers have yet another proposal, that the niece of King John, Blanch, marry the son of King Philip, the Dauphin, Lewis, and unite the two kingdoms in peace. This is agreed upon and King John awards the couple with much of his French possessions. Constance is devastated that her son, Arthur, will not be made King of England and John offers to make him Duke of Britaine and Earl of Richmond. The Bastard ends the scene ranting about the madness of kings and commodity, the buying and selling of everything, and how that has altered the policy of both England and France so dramatically. He becomes determined to use commodity to his own advantage in order to gain the power and prestige he envisions for himself. So in order to ensure he retain the English throne, King John has married Blanch to the French Dauphin and given away most of his French possessions. King Philip, on the other hand, relinquishes France’s demand to have Arthur placed on the English throne, in order to maintain peace with England by marrying his son, the Dauphin, to King John’s niece, Blanch. It is not what either nation originally planned or wanted but it is the compromise agreed upon and everyone goes home in peace. In this scene we see the Bastard holding a position of great prominence along side King John. His ascent has begun in earnest. Arthur’s mother is the person most distressed by these new arrangements, as her son’s claim to the English throne has been thwarted by the marriage uniting the two kingdoms. Arthur himself seems to harbour no such cravings for power and will very sweetly return the court of King John back in England, where he can be closely monitored as a potential and threatening claimant to the English throne.
Act III (4 scenes)
Scene i
France. The French King’s camp
Enter Constance, Arthur and Salsbury
Constance: “Gone to be married! Gone to swear a peace! False blood to false blood joined! Shall Lewis have Blanch, and Blanch those provinces? It is not so; thou has misspoken, misheard; be well advised; tell over thy tale again. It cannot be; thou does but say ’tis so; I trust I may not trust thee; for thy word is but the vain breath of a common man: believe me I do not believe thee, man; I have a KIng’s oath to the contrary. Thou shall be punished for thus frightening me, for I am sick and capable of fears, oppressed with wrongs, and therefore full of fears; a widow, husbandless, subject to fears; a woman, naturally born to fears. What does thou mean by the shaking of thy head? Why does thou look so sadly on my son? What means that hand upon that breast of thine? Why holds thine eye with that lamentable rheum, like a proud river peering over his bounds? Be these sad signs, confirmers of thy words? Then speak again, whether thy tale be true.”
Salsbury: “As true as I believe you think them false.”
Constance: “O, if thou teach me to believe this sorrow, teach thou this sorrow how to make me die. Lewis marry Blanch! O boy, then where art thou? France friend with England; what becomes of me? Fellow, be gone: I cannot brook thy sight; this news has made thee a most ugly man.”
Salibury: “What other harm have I, good lady, done but spoke the harms that is by others done?”
Constance: “Which harm within itself so heinous is as it makes harmful all that speak of it.”
Arthur: “I do beseech you, madam, be content.”
Constance: “If thou who bid me be content were grim, ugly and slanderous to thy mother’s womb, full of unpleasing blots, lame, foolish, crooked, swart, patched with foul moles and eye offending marks, I would not care, I then would be content; for then I should not love thee; no, nor thou deserve a crown. But thou art fair, and at thy birth, dear boy, nature and fortune joined to make thee great: but fortune, O! She is corrupted, changed, and won from thee; she adulterates hourly with thine uncle John, and with her golden hand has plucked France to tread down fair respect of sovereignty, and made his Majesty the bawd to theirs. France is a bawd to fortune and King John – that strumpet fortune, that usurping John! Envenom him with words and leave those woes alone which I alone am bound to under-bear. I will instruct my sorrows to be proud. To me, and to the state of my great grief, let kings assemble; for my grief is so great that no supporter but the huge firm earth can hold it up. (she sits on the ground) Here I and sorrow sit; here is my throne, bid kings come and bow to it.”
Enter King John, King Philip, Lewis, Blanch, Elinor, the Bastard and Austria
King Philip: “Tis true, fair daughter, and this blessed day ever in France shall be kept festive.”
Constance: (rising) “A wicked day, and not a holy day! What has this day deserved? Nay, rather turn this day out of the week, this day of shame, oppression, perjury; let wives with child pray that their burdens may not fall this day, lest that their hopes prodigiously be crossed; but on this day let seamen fear no wreck; no bargains break that are not this day made; this day, all things begun come to ill end.”
King Philip: “By heaven, lady, you shall have no cause to curse the fair proceedings of this day. Have I not pawned to you my majesty?”
Constance: “You have beguiled me with a counterfeit resembling majesty, which proves valueless; you are forsworn, forsworn; you came in arms to spill my enemies’ blood, but now in arms you strengthen it with yours. Arm, arm, you heavens, against these perjured kings! A widow cries: be husband to me, heavens! Set armed discord between these perjured kings! Hear me, O, hear me!”
Austria: “Lady Constance, peace!”
Constance: “War! War! No peace! Peace is to me a war. O Austria! Thou slave, thou wretch, thou coward! Thou little valiant, great in villainy! Thou ever strong upon the stronger side! Thou are perjured too. What a fool art thou. Has thou not spoke like thunder on my side, been sworn my soldier, and does thou now fall over to my foes?”
Austria: “O that a man should speak those words to me!”
Enter Pandulph
King Philip: “Here comes the holy legate of the Pope.”
Pandulph: “Hail, you anointed deputies of heaven! To thee, King John, my holy errand is. Pandulph, from Pope Innocent, does in his name demand why thou against the church, our holy mother, so willfully does spurn; and force perforce keep Stephen Langton, chosen Archbishop of Canterbury, from that Holy See? I do demand of thee.”
King John: “Thou cannot, Cardinal, devise a name so slight, unworthy and ridiculous, to charge me to an answer. Tell the Pope that no Italian priest shall tithe or toll in our dominions; but as we under heaven are supreme head, where we do reign we will alone uphold, without the assistance of a mortal hand. So tell the Pope, all reverence set apart to him and his usurped authority.”
King Philip: “Brother of England, you blaspheme.”
King John: “Though you and all the kings of Christiandom are led so grossly by this meddling priest, and by the merit of vile gold, yet I alone do me oppose the Pope, and count his friends my foes.”
Pandulph: “Then by the lawful power that I have thou shall stand cursed and excommunicated; and blessed shall he be that does revolt from his allegiance to a heretic; and meritorious shall that hand be called, canonized, and worshipped as a saint, who takes away by any secret course thy hateful life.”
Constance: “O, lawful let it be that I have room with Rome to curse a while! Good father Cardinal, cry thou ‘amen’ to my keen curses.”
Pandulph: “There’s law and warrant, lady, for my curse.”
Constance: “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 who holds his kingdom holds the law; therefore, since law itself is perfect wrong, how can the law forbid my tongue to curse?”
Pandulph: “Philip of France, on peril of a curse, let go the hand of that arch-heretic, and raise the power of France upon his head, unless he does submit himself to Rome.”
Elinor: “Look thou pale, France? Do not let go thy hand.”
Austria: “King Philip, listen to the Cardinal.”
King John: “Philip, what says thou to 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.”
Constance: “O Lewis, stand fast! The devil tempts thee here in likeness of a new untrimmed bride.”
Blanch: “The Lady Constance speaks not from her faith but from her need.”
Constance: “O, if thou grant my need, which only lives but by the death of faith, that need must needs infer this principle – that faith would live again by death of need. O then, tread down my need, and faith mounts up: keep my need up, and faith is trodden down!”
King Philip: “I am perplexed and know not what to say.”
Pandulph: “What can thou say but will perplex thee more, if thou stand excommunicated and cursed?”
King Philip: “Good reverend father, this royal hand and mine are newly knit, coupled and linked 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 even before this truce our hands were besmeared and overstained with slaughtered pencil, where revenge did paint the fearful difference of incensed kings. And shall these hands, so lately purged of blood, so newly joined in love, unyoke this seizure, make such inconstant children of ourselves, unswear faith sworn, 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 then we shall be blessed to do your pleasure, and continue friends.”
Pandulph: “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 hold a serpent by the tongue, a chafed lion by the mortal paw, a fasting tIger safer by the tooth, than keep in peace that hand which thou does hold. O, let thy vow first made to heaven, first be to heaven performed, that is, to be the champion of our church. What since thou swore is sworn against thyself and may not be performed by thyself, for that which thou has 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 falsehood falsehood cures, as fire cures fire within the scorched veins of one newly burned. It is religion that does make vows kept; but thou has sworn against religion by what thou swears against the thing thou swears, and makes an oath the surety of thy truth against an oath; the truth thou are unsure to swear swears only not to be forsworn; else what a mockery should it be to swear! But thou does swear only to be forsworn; and most forsworn to keep what thou does swear. Therefore thy later vows against thy first is in thyself rebellion to thyself; and better conquest never can thou make than arm thy constant and thy nobler parts against these giddy loose suggestions. But if not, then know the peril of our curses light on thee so heavy as thou shall not shake them off, but in despair die under their black weight.“
Lewis: “Father, to arms!”
Blanch: “Upon thy wedding day? Against the blood that thou has married? What, shall our feast be kept with slaughtered men? Shall clamours of hell be measures to our pomp? O husband, gear me! Upon my knee I beg, go not to arms against my uncle.”
Constance: “O, upon my knee, made heard with kneeling, I do pray to thee, thou virtuous Dauphin, alter not the doom forethought by heaven!”
Blanch: “Now shall I see thou love. What motive may be stronger with thee than the name of wife?”
Constance: “That which upholds him that thee upholds, his honour. O, thine honour, Lewis, thine honour!”
Pandulph: “I will denounce a curse upon his head.”
King Philip: “Thou shall not need. England, I shall fall from thee.”
Constance: “O fair return of banished majesty!”
Elinor: “O, foul revolt of French inconstancy!”
King John: “France, thou shall rue this hour within this hour.”
Blanch: “The sun is overcast with blood. Fair day, adieu! Which is the side that I must go withal? I am with both; each army has a hand; and in their rage, I having hold of both, they whirl asunder and dismember me. Husband, I cannot pray that thou may win; Uncle, I needs must pray that thou may lose; father, I may not wish the fortune thine; grandam, I will not wish thy wishes thrive. Whoever wins, on the side I shall lose.”
Lewis: “Lady, with me thy fortune lies.”
Blanch: “There where my fortune lives, there my life dies.”
King John: “France, I am burned up with inflaming wrath, a rage whose heat has this condition that nothing can allay, nothing but blood, the blood, and dearest-valued blood, of France.”
King Philip: “Thy rage shall burn thee up, and thou shall turn to ashes, ere our blood shall quench that fire. Look to thyself, thou are in jeopardy.”
Summary and Analysis
England and France, having made their peace with one another, by virtue of the marriage between King John’s niece, Blanch, and King Philip’s son, Lewis, leaves Constance, Arthur’s mother, in a rage. King Philip of France had sworn to defeat King John and place Arthur on the English throne, but now he has joined forces with King John and it would appear there will be no throne for Arthur. So Constance waxes poetic in her wrath until the Cardinal arrives also enraged by the peace between England and France, as King John has railed against the Pope over the expectation that the church could appoint the Archbishop of Canterbury over King John’s objection. The Cardinal pronounces King John’s excommunication from the church, providing Constance with hope, and pressures King Philip to break his peace with King John. Philip resists but eventually succumbs to church threats and breaks off his relationship with England, leaving Blanch to wonder which side she could possible support, with her uncle, King John, on one side and her husband, Lewis, on the other. The scene ends with King John once again swearing vengeance on France. So the church has destroyed the peace created by the marriage of Blanch and Lewis. Shakespeare’s audiences would have empathized with King John being so manipulated by the Catholic Church, as Elizabeth herself sought throughout her reign to control the impact of the church on the Protestant kingdom created by her father, King Henry VIII. This scene contains some of Shakespeare’s finest writing, in the ragings of both Constance and Pandulph.
Act III
Scene ii
France, near Angiers.
Enter the Bastard with Austria’s head.
Bastard: “Austria’s head lies here, while Philip breathes.”
Enter King John, Arthur and Hubert
King John: “Hubert, keep this boy. My mother is assailed in our tent, and taken, I fear.”
Bastard: “My lord, I rescued her; her Highness is in safety, fear you not.”
Summary and Analysis
The battle has commenced between England and France / Austria. The Bastard arrives with Austria’s head and when King John fears that Elinor has been captured it is the Bastard once again who assures him that she is safe, as he has rescued her. John’s fortunes seem to be plummeting, as he is at war with not only France and Austria, but also with the Catholic Church in Rome and his own nobles and lords at home. At the same time, the Bastard is rising in prominence, playing a leading role in the decision making process of the court, bravely conducting himself in the war in Europe and saving the Queen Mother from capture.
Act III
Scene iii
France, near Angiers
Enter King John, Elinor, Arthur, the Bastard and Hubert
King John: (to Elinor) “So shall it be; your Grace shall stay behind, so strongly guarded. (to Arthur) Cousin, look not sad; thy grandam loves thee, and thy uncle will as dear be to thee as thy father was.”
Arthur: “O, this will make my mother die with grief.”
King John: (to the Bastard) “Cousin, away for England! Haste before, and, ere our coming, see thou shakes the bags of hoarding abbots. The fat ribs of peace must by the hungry now be fed upon. Use our commission in his utmost force.”
Bastard: “Bell, book and candle shall not drive me back, when gold and silver beckons me to come on. I leave your Highness. So, I kiss your hand.”
Elinor: “Farewell, gentle cousin.”
King John: “Coz, farewell.”
Exit the Bastard
King John: “Come hither, Hubert. O, my gentle Hubert, we owe thee much! Thy voluntary oath lives in this bosom, dearly cherished. I had a thing to say, but I will fit it with some better time. By heaven, Hubert, I am almost ashamed to say what good respect I have of thee.”
Hubert: “I am much bound to your Majesty.”
King John: “I had a thing to say – but let it go. If that thou could see me without eyes, hear me without thy ears, and make reply without a tongue, without eyes, ears, and harmful sounds of words, I would into thy bosom pour my thoughts. But, ah, I will not! Yet I love thee well; and by my troth, I think thou loves me well.”
Hubert: “So well that what you bid me undertake, though that my death were adjunct to my act, by heaven, I would do it.”
King John: “Good Hubert, throw thine eyes on yonder young boy. I’ll tell thee what, my friend, he is a very serpent in my way; and wheresoever this foot of mine does tread, he lies before me. Does thou understand me? Thou art his keeper.”
Hubert: “And I’ll keep him so that he shall not offend your Majesty.”
King John: “Death.”
Hubert: “He shall not live.”
King John: “I could be merry now. Hubert, I love thee. Well, I will not say what I intend for thee. (to Arthur) For England, cousin, go; Hubert shall be your man, attend on you with all true duty. On toward Calais, ho!”
Summary and Analysis
The English have triumphed on the battlefield of France and King John assures Arthur that he will love him as a father and instructs the Bastard to raid the monasteries for money for the common people to feed on. Then John coyly informs loyal Hubert that there is something he wishes to tell him regarding Arthur. He says that Arthur is a serpent in the King’s way and eventually says that he wants him dead. Arthur has a very popular claim to the throne and King John wants to rid himself of this threat. Hubert assures King John that Arthur will not live and John comforts Arthur that Hubert will attend to to him with ‘true duty’. The King is willing to further alienate the Catholic Church and then seals his own fate with plans to have the beloved Arthur murdered.
Act III
Scene iv
France, in the French King’s camp.
Enter King Philip, Lewis and Pandolph
King Philip: “So a whole Armada of convicted sail is scattered and disjoined from fellowship.”
Pandulph: “Courage and comfort! All shall yet go well.”
King Philip: “What can go well, when we have run so ill? Are we not beaten? Arthur taken prisoner? Bloody England into England gone? Look who comes here: a grave unto a soul; holding the eternal spirit, against her will, in the vile prison of afflicted breath. I prithee, lady, go away with me. Comfort, gentle Constance!”
Constance: “No, I defy all counsel, all redress, but death, death; O amiable, lovely death! Thou odoriferous stench! Sound rottenness! I will kiss thy detestable bones, and put my eyeballs in thy vaulty brows, and ring these fingers with thy household worms, and stop this gap of breath with fulsome dust, and be a carrion monster like thyself. Misery’s love, O, come to me!”
King Philip: “O fair affliction, peace!”
Constance: “No, no, O that my tongue were in the thunder’s mouth! Then with a passion would I shake the world.”
Pandulph: “Lady, you utter madness, not sorrow.”
Constance: “I am not mad: this hair I tear is mine; my name is Constance; I was Geffrey’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. Or, if I could, what grief should I forget! Preach some philosophy to make me mad, and thou shall be canonized, Cardinal; for, being not mad, but sensible of grief, my reasonable part produces reason how I may be delivered of these woes, and teaches me to kill or hang myself. 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.”
King Philip: “Bind up those tresses.”
Constance: “To England, if you will.”
King Philip: “Bind up your hairs.”
Constance: “Yes, that I will. 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 their liberty, because my poor child is a prisoner. For since the birth of Cain, the first male child, there was not such a gracious creature born. But now will canker sorrow eat my bud, and he will look as hollow as a ghost; 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.”
Pandulph: “You hold too heinous a respect of grief.”
Constance: “He talks to me who never had a son.”
King Philip: “You are as fond of grief as of your child.”
Constance: “Grief fills the room up of my absent child, lies in his bed, walks up and down with me. Then have I reason to be fond of grief. Fair 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 more hair out) 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 sorrow’s cure.”
Exit Constance
King Philip: “I fear some outrage, and I’ll follow her.”
Exit King Philip
Lewis: “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 has spoiled the sweet world’s taste, that it yields nought but shame and bitterness.”
Pandulph: “What have you lost by losing of this day?”
Lewis: “All days of glory, joy and happiness.”
Pandulph: “If you had won it. No, no; when fortune means to men most good, she looks upon them with a threatening eye. Tis strange to think how much King John has lost in this which he accounts so clearly won. Are not you grieved that Arthur is his prisoner?”
Lewis: “As heartily as he is glad he has him.”
Pandulph: “Now hear me speak with a prophetic spirit; for even the breath of what I mean to speak shall blow each dust out of the path which shall directly lead thy foot to England’s throne. And therefore mark: John has seized Arthur; and it cannot be that the misplaced John should entertain an hour, one minute, nay, one quiet breath of rest. That John may stand then, Arthur needs must fall; so be it, for it cannot be but so.”
Lewis: “But what shall I gain by young Arthur’s fall?”
Pandulph: “You, in the right of Lady Blanch your wife, may then make all the claim that Arthur did. John lays you plots; the times conspire with you; this act, so evilly born, shall cool the hearts of all his peoples and freeze up their zeal, plainly denouncing vengeance upon John.”
Lewis: “Maybe he will not touch young Arthur’s life, but hold himself safe in his prisonment.”
Pandulph: “O, sir, when he shall hear of your approach, if that young Arthur be not gone already, even at that news he dies; and then the hearts of all his people shall revolt from him.
Summary and Analysis
The French ships are scattered at sea but Pandulph, the Pope’s representative, comforts King Philip that all is well. Constance arrives totally distraught, claiming to be ready for death due to the capture of her son by King John. She rightly believes he will die in the hands of King John. Neither Pandulph or King Philip can comfort her in the least. Lewis, the Dauphin, is also saddened by the capture of Arthur, until Pandolph suggests that, with Arthur doomed, all of his claims for the English throne become Lewis’ right, as he has married King John’s niece. Pandulph also rightly insists that once Arthur is killed by John, the people of England will turn on their king with a vengeance. Lewis is heartened and makes plans to go directly to England. Pandulph prophetically reads the future regarding Arthur and John’s fate, assessments that escape King John’s consideration entirely.
Act IV (3 scenes)
Scene i
England, a castle
Enter Hubert and executioners.
Hubert: “Heat me these irons hot. When I strike my foot upon the bosom of the ground, rush forth and bind the boy which you shall find with me fast to the chair.”
1 Executioner: “I hope your warrant will bear out the deed.”
Hubert: “Fear not you. Look to it.”
Exit the executioners
Hubert: “Young lad, come forth.”
Enter Arthur
Arthur: “Good morrow, Hubert.”
Hubert: “Good morrow, little Prince.”
Arthur: “You are sad.”
Hubert: “Indeed, I have been merrier.”
Arthur: “Mercy on me! Methinks no body should be sad but I. By my christiandom, so I were out of prison and kept sheep, I should be as merry as the day is long; and so I would be here but that I doubt my uncle; he is afraid of me, and I of him. Is it my fault that I was Geffrey’s son? No, indeed, is it not; and I would to heaven I were your son, so you would love me, Hubert.”
Hubert: (aside) “If I talk to him, with his innocent prate he will wake my mercy, which lies dead; therefore I will be sudden and dispatch.”
Arthur: “Are you sick, Hubert? You look pale today; In sooth, I would you were a little sick, that I might sit all night and watch with you. I warrant I love you more than you do me.”
Hubert: (aside) “His words do take possession of my bosom.” “Read here, young Arthur.” (shows him a paper) (aside) “How now, foolish rheum! I must be brief, lest resolution drop out of my eyes in tender womanish tears.” “Can you not read it?”
Arthur: “Hubert, must you with hot irons burn out both my eyes?”
Hubert: “Young boy, I must.”
Arthur: “And will you?”
Hubert: “And I will.”
Arthur: “Have you the heart? When your head did but ache, I knit my handkerchief about your brows, and with my hand at midnight I held your head; still and anon cheered up the heavy time, saying ‘What lack you?’ and ‘Where lies your grief?’ or ‘What good love may I perform for you?’ If heaven be pleased that you must use me ill, why, then you must. Will you put out my eyes, these eyes that never did or never shall so much as frown on you?”
Hubert: “I have sworn to do it; and with hot irons must I burn them out.”
Arthur: “If an angel should have come to me and told me Hubert should put out my eyes, I would not have believed him.”
Hubert: “Come forth. Do as I bid you to.”
Re-enter executioners
Arthur: “O, save me, Hubert, save me!”
Hubert: “Give me the iron, I say, and bind him here.”
Arthur: “I will not struggle. For heaven’s sake, Hubert, drive these men away, and I will sit as quiet as a lamb; I will not stir, nor wince, nor speak a word. Thrust but these men away, and I’ll forgive you, whatever torment you do put me to.”
Hubert: “Go; let me alone with him.”
1 Executioner: “I am best pleased to be from such a deed.”
Exit executioners
Arthur: “Alas, he has a stern look but a gentle heart. Let him come back, that his compassion may give life to yours.”
Hubert: “Come boy, prepare yourself.”
Arthur: “Is there no remedy?”
Hubert: “None, but to lose your eyes.”
Arthur: “Hubert, if you will, cut out my tongue, so I may keep my eyes. O, spare my eyes.”
Hubert: “Well, see to live. I will not touch thy eye for all the treasure that thy uncle owes. Yet I am sworn with this same very iron to burn them out.”
Arthur: “O, now you look like Hubert! All this while you were disguised.”
Hubert: “Peace; no more. Adieu. Your uncle must not know but you are dead: I’ll fill these dogged spies with false reports; and, pretty child, sleep doubtless and secure that Hubert, for the wealth of all the world, will not offend thee.”
Arthur: “O heaven! I thank you, Hubert.”
Hubert: “Much danger do I undergo for thee.”
Summary and Analysis
Hubert is initially following King John’s order that he blind and murder young Arthur. His executioners stand by as he speaks with Arthur, who wishes he were merely a simple shepherd. Hubert is extremely fond of Arthur, so this assignment is very hard on him. He shows Arthur the note from King John that he must put out the young man’s eyes. Arthur appeals to Hubert to consider how close they have become, but at first Hubert insists he must do what he is sworn by. Finally, his heart softens and he sends away the executioners, freeing Arthur from his fate. Arthur is extremely grateful but Hubert reminds him ‘much danger do I undergo for thee.’ Arthur is a very sweet and innocent young man and Hubert cannot bring himself to rid King John of Arthur. Arthur stands in vivid contrast to King John, who is wickedly ordering the death of this young prince beloved throughout the kingdom.
Act IV
Scene ii
England. King John’s palace.
Enter King John, Pembroke and Salisbury.
King John: “Here once again we sit, once again crowned and looked upon, I hope, with cheerful eyes.”
Pembroke: “This once again, but that your Highness pleased, was once superfluous: you were crowned before.”
Salisbury: “Therefore, to be possessed with double pomp, to guard a title that was rich before is wasteful and ridiculous excess.”
Pembroke: “But that your royal pleasure must be done, this act is troublesome.”
Salisbury: “In this the antique and well-noted face of plain old form is much disfigured; startles and frights consideration, makes sound opinion sick, and truth suspected, for putting on so new a fashioned robe.”
King John: “Some reasons for this double coronation I have possessed you with, and think them strong; meantime but ask what you would have reformed that is not well, and well shall you perceive how willingly I will both hear and grant your requests.”
Pembroke: “Then I, both for myself and your safety, heartily request the enfranchisement of Arthur, whose restraint does move the murmuring lips of discontent to break into this dangerous argument.”
King John: “Let it be so. I do commit his youth to your direction.”
Enter Hubert
Pembroke: “This is the man should do the bloody deed; the image of a wicked heinous fault lives in his eyes and I do fearfully believe tis done what we so feared he had a charge to do.”
King John: “Good lords, although my will to give is living, the suit which you demand is gone and dead: he tells us Arthur is deceased tonight.”
Salisbury: “Indeed, we feared his sickness was past cure.”
Pembroke: “Indeed, we heard how near his death he was.”
King John: “Why do you bend such solemn brows on me? Think you I bear the shears of destiny? Have I commandment on the pulse of life?”
Salisbury: “It is apparent foul-play; and tis shame that greatness should so grossly offer it; and so, farewell.”
Exit the lords
King John: “They burn in indignation. I repent. There is no sure foundation set on blood, no certain life achieved by other’s death.”
Enter a messenger
King John: “A fearful eye thou has; where is that blood that I have seen inhabit those cheeks? How goes all in France?”
Messenger: “From France to England. Never such a power for any foreign preparation was levied in the body of a land. They are all arrived.”
King John: “O, where has our intelligence slept? Where is my mother’s care?”
Messenger: “My liege, her ear is stopped with dust: the first of April died your noble mother; and as I hear, my lord, the Lady Constance in a frenzy died.”
King John: “Withhold thy speech, dreadful occasion! What! Mother dead! Under whose conduct came those powers of France?”
Messenger: “Under the Dauphin.”
Enter the Bastard
King John: “No, what says the world to your proceedings? Do not seek to stuff my head with more ill news, for it is full.”
Bastard: “But if you be afeared to hear the worst, then let the worst, unheard, fall on your head.”
King John: “Bear with me, cousin. Speak.”
Bastard: “How I have sped among the clergymen, the sums I have collected shall express. But as I travelled hither through the land, I find the people possessed with rumours, full of idle dreams, not knowing what they fear, but full of fear; and here’s a prophet I brought with me from forth the streets of Pomfret, whom I found with many hundreds treading on his heels, to whom he sung that, ere the next Ascension-day at noon, your Highness should deliver up your crown.”
King John: “Thou idle dreamer. Hubert, away with him; imprison him; and on that day at noon whereon he says I shall yield up my crown let him be hanged. O my gentle cousin, hear thou the news abroad, who are arrived?”
Bastard: “The French, my lord. Besides, I met Lord Bigot and Lord Salisbury, with eyes as red as new-enkindled fire, and others more, going to seek the grave of Arthur, whom they say is killed tonight on your suggestion.”
King John: “Gentle kinsman, go and thrust thyself into their companies. I have a way to win their loves again; bring them before me.”
Bastard: “I will seek them out.”
King John: “Make haste. O let me have no subject enemies when adverse foreigners affright my towns with dreadful stout invasion! My mother dead!”
Re-enter Hubert
Hubert: “My lord, they say five moons were seen tonight.”
King John: “Five moons!”
Hubert: “Old men and bedlam in the streets do prophesy upon it dangerously; young Arthur’s death is common in their mouths; and when they talk of him, they shake their hearts, and whisper to one another.”
King John: “Why seek thou to possess me of these fears? Why urged thou so often young Arthur’s death? Thy hand has murdered him. I had a mighty cause to wish him dead, but thou had none to kill him.”
Hubert: “My lord! Why, did you not provoke me? Here is your hand and seal for what I did.”
King John: “How often the sight of means to do ill deeds make deeds ill done! Had not thou been by, this murder had nor come into my mind; but finding thee fit for bloody villainy, I faintly broke with thee of Arthur’s death. Without stop, did thou let thy heart consent, and consequently thy rude hand to act the deed which both our tongues held vile to name. Out of my sight, and never see me more! My nobles leave me; and my state is braved with ranks of foreign powers.”
Hubert: “Arm you against your other enemies, I’ll make a peace between your soul and you. Young Arthur is alive. This hand of mine is yet a maiden and an innocent hand, not painted with the crimson spots of blood. Within this bosom never entered yet the dreadful motion of a murderous thought; and you have slandered nature in my form.”
King John: “Does Arthur live? O, haste thee to the peers, throw this report on their incensed rage. Forgive the comment that my passion made upon thy feature; for my rage was blind, and foul imaginary eyes of blood presented thee more hideous than thou are.”
Summary and Analysis
King John speaks of having a second coronation to Salisbury and Pembroke. They think it is a horrible idea and King John says he will follow their directives. They request of him that Arthur be released, as he is beloved of the people and poses very little threat. After King John speaks with Hubert he returns and announces that Arthur is dead. The lords are very displeased by this and insist that foul play is at work. King John reflects on how his reign seems to be disintegrating with the angry lords and invading French forces. He inquires of his mother and is informed that she has died, as has Arthur’s mother, Constance. The Bastard reports that he has collected a handsome sum from the monasteries but that the people he encountered across the country are angry and predict that John’s reign will soon come to an end. King John instructs the Bastard to try to rally support from the lords. Hubert arrives with news that there have been five moons in the sky from which the people prophecize a vey bad omen of things to come. King John blames Hubert for the death of Arthur, claiming he talked him into it and that even having him around influenced King John to go along with the idea. As we know, Hubert never did kill Arthur and he informs King John that the lad is alive. John is thrilled to hear this and wants the lords informed immediately and asking Hubert to forgive him for being so harsh. John’s fortunes are in steep decline. His mother, his closest and most trusted counsellor, dies and his rule then gets even weaker and less predictable. His behaving is increasingly child-like and petulant. His lords are turning against him and the French army is approaching, while omens and prophecies foretell even worse to come.
Act IV
Scene iii
England, before the castle
Enter Arthur, upon the walls
Arthur: “The wall is high, and yet will I leap down. Good ground, be pitiful and hurt me not! I am afraid; and yet I’ll venture it. If I get down and do not break my limbs, I’ll find a thousand shifts to get away. (leaps down) O me! My uncle’s spirit is in these stones. Heaven take my soul, and England keep my bones.” (he dies)
Bastard: “Distempered lords! The King by me requests your presence straight.”
Salisbury: “The King has dispossessed himself of us. We will not line his thin destained cloak with our poor honours, nor attend the foot that leaves the print of blood wherever it walks. Return and tell him so. We know the worst. Our griefs, and not our manners, reason now.”
Bastard: “But there is little reason in your grief.”
Salisbury: “This is the bloodiest shame, the wildest savagery, the vilest stroke, that ever wall eyed wrath or staring rage presented to the tears of soft remorse.”
Bastard: “It is a damned and bloody work.”
Salisbury: “It is the shameful work of Hubert’s hand; the practice and the purpose of the King; from whose obedience I forbid my soul, kneeling before this ruin of sweet life, the incense of a vow, a holy vow, never to taste the pleasures of the world, till I have set a glory to this hand by giving it the worship of revenge.”
Pembroke: “Our souls religiously confirm thy words.”
Enter Hubert
Hubert: “Lords, I am hot with haste in seeking you. Arthur does live.”
Salisbury: “Avaunt, thou hateful villain, get thee gone!”
Hubert: “I am no villain.”
Bigot: “Out dunghill”
Salisbury: “Thou art a murderer.”
Hubert: “Do not prove me so.”
Pembroke: “Cut him to pieces.”
Bastard: “Keep the peace, I say.”
Salisbury: “Stand by or I will gall you, Faulconbridge.”
Bastard: “They were better to gall the devil, Salisbury. I’ll spike thee dead. Put up thy sword or I’ll so maul you that you should think the devil is come from hell.”
Bigot: “Who killed this prince?”
Hubert: “I honoured him, I loved him, and will weep my date of life out for his sweet life’s loss.”
Salisbury: “Trust not those cunning waters of his eyes, for villainy is not without such rheum. Away, with me, all you whose souls abhor the uncleanly savours of a slaughter-house.”
Bigot: “Away toward the Dauphin there!”
Pembroke: “There tell the King he may inquire us out.”
Hubert: “Do but hear me, sir.”
Bastard: “Ha! I’ll tell thee what: thou art damned as black – nay, nothing is so black – thou art more deep damn than Prince Lucifer; there is not yet so ugly a fiend of hell as thou shall be, if thou did kill this child.”
Hubert: “Upon my soul -“
Bastard: “If thou did but consent to this most cruel act, do but despair; and if thou wants a cord, the smallest thread that ever a spider twisted from her womb will serve to strangle thee; or would thou drown thyself, put but a little water in a spoon, and it shall be as all the ocean, enough to stifle all a villain up. I do suspect thee grievously.”
Hubert: “If I in act, consent, or sin of thought, be guilty of the stealing that sweet breath, let hell want pains enough to torture me! I left him well.”
Bastard: “Go, bear him in thine arms. I am amazed, methinks, and lose my way among the thorns and dangers of this world. From forth this morsel of dead royalty the life, the right, the truth of all this realm is fled to heaven; and England now is left to tug and scramble. Vast confusion waits, as does a raven on a sick-fallen beast. Bear away that child. I’ll to the King.”
Summary and Analysis
Arthur stands atop his prison wall, planning to jump and escape. But the jump is a long one and he is afraid. He jumps and dies. Lords Salisbury, Pembroke and Bigot inform the Bastard that they no longer support the King. When they see the dead body of Arthur they are horrified, believing it is the work of King John and Hubert. Just then Hubert arrives and insists that Arthur is alive, unaware that he has jumped off the wall to his death. When informed that Arthur is indeed dead Hubert insists that he had nothing to do with it. The lords do not believe him and storm off to support the Dauphin’s invasion of England. The Bastard tells Hubert that he is eternally damned if he had anything to do with the death of Arthur. Hubert continues to insist that he is innocent and they proceed to find the King. We know that Arthur’s death was accidental but there is nothing Hubert or King John can do to exonerate themselves. Besides, King John is responsible for jailing Arthur and then sending Hubert in to blind and kill him. Hubert may not be able to bring himself to carry out the murder but Arthur’s deadly escape attempt is only necessary because John has confined him so. The noose is tightening around John’s neck as Act V begins.
Act V (7 scenes)
Scene i
England. King John’s palace.
Enter King John and Pandulph
King John: “Thus have I yielded up into your hands the circle of my glory.”
Pandulph: (gives back the crown) “Take again from this my hand your sovereign greatness and authority.”
King John: “Now keep your holy word; go meet the French; and use all your power to stop their marching before we are enflamed. Our discontinued counties do revolt; our people quarrel with obedience, swearing allegiance and love of soul to stranger blood, to foreign royalty. Pause not; for the present time is so sick that present medicine must be ministered or overthrow incurable ensues.“
Pandulph: “It was my breath that blew this tempest up; but since you are a gentle converter, my tongue shall hush again this storm of war and make fair weather in your blustering land. Upon your oath of service to the Pope, go I to make the French lay down their arms.”
Exit Pandulph
King John: “Is this Ascension-day? Did not the prophet say that before Ascension-Day at noon my crown I should give off? Even so I have. But, heaven be thanked, it is but voluntary.”
Enter the Bastard
Bastard: “All Kent has yielded. Nothing there holds out but Dover Castle. London has received the Dauphin and his powers. Your nobles will not hear you, but are gone to offer service to your enemy; and wild amazement hurries up and down the little number of your doubtful friends.”
King John: “Would not my lords return to me again after they heard young Arthur was alive?”
Bastard: “They found him dead and cast into the streets, where the jewel of life by some damned hand was robbed and taken away.”
King John: “That villain Hubert told me he did live.”
Bastard: “So, on my soul, he did, for aught he knew. But wherefore do you droop? Why look you sad? Let not the world see fear and sad distrust govern the motion of a kingly eye. Be stirring as the time; threaten the threatener; so shall inferior eyes grow great by your example and put on the dauntless spirit of resolution. Away, and glister like the god of war; show boldness and aspiring confidence.”
King John: “The legate of the Pope has been with me, and I have made a happy peace with him; and he has promised to dismiss the powers led by the Dauphin.”
Bastard: “O inglorious league! Shall we, upon the footing of our land, make compromise, parlay and base truth, to arms invasive? Shall a fearless boy brave our fields and flesh his spirit in a war-like soil, and find no check? Let us, my liege, too arms.”
Summary and Analysis
King John has made his peace with the Catholic Church, which he hopes will eliminate the French threat of invasion. However, his lords have pretty much all abandoned him and gone over to support the Dauphin, due to what they imagine was King John’s role in the death of young Arthur. The Bastard convinces him to arm and confront the French. The King is in desperation mode, as his kingdom crumbles around him. He may have made peace with Rome, but not with his own nobles, commoners or the French forces.
Act V
Scene ii
England. The Dauphin’s camp.
Enter the Dauphin (Lewis), Salisbury, Melun, Pembroke and Bigot.
Salisbury: “Noble Dauphin, albeit we swear a voluntary zeal and an un-urged faith to your proceedings; yet, believe me, prince, I am not glad that such a sore of time should seek a plaster by contemned revolt, and heal the inveterate canker of one wound by making many. O, it grieves my soul that I must be a widow-maker, there where honourable rescue and defence cries out upon the name of Salisbury! But such is the infection of the time that we cannot deal but with the very hand of stern injustice and confused wrong. And is it not pity, O my grieved friends, that we, the sons and children of this isle, were born to see so sad an hour as this, wherein we step after a stranger-march upon her gentle bosom, and fill up her enemy’s ranks – I must withdraw and weep upon the spot of this enforced cause.”
Lewis: “A noble temper does thou show in this; let me wipe off this honourable dew that does progress on thy cheeks. Lift up thy brow, renowned Salisbury, and with a great heart heave away this storm; come, come; for thou shall thrust thy hand as deep into the purse of rich prosperity as Lewis himself. So, nobles, shall you all, that knit your sinews to the street of mine. (enter Pandulph) Look where the holy legate comes apace to give us warrant from the hand of heaven and on our actions set the name of right with holy breath.”
Pandulph: “Hail, noble prince of France! King John has reconciled himself to Rome; his spirit has come in, that so stood out against the holy church. Therefore, thy threatening colours now wind up and tame the savage spirit of wild war, that it may lie gently at the foot of peace.”
Lewis: “Your Grace shall pardon me, I will not back. Your breath first kindled the dead coal of wars between this chastised kingdom and myself and brought in matter that should feed this fire; and now tis far too huge to be blown out with that same weak wind which enkindled it. You thrust this enterprise into my heart; and come ye now to tell me John has made his peace with Rome? What is that peace to me? I, by the honour of my marriage-bed, after young Arthur, claim this land for mine; and, now it is half conquered, must I back because that John has made his peace with Rome? Am I Rome’s slave? Have I not here the best cards of the game to win this easy match, played for a crown? And shall I now give over the yielded set? No, no, on my soul, it never shall be said.”
Enter the Bastard
Bastard: “According to the fair play of the world, I am sent to speak. From the King I come to learn how you have dealt for him.”
Pandulph: “The Dauphin is too wild-opposite; he flatly says he’ll not lay down his arms.”
Bastard: “The youth says well. Now hear our English King; for thus his royalty does speak in me. He is prepared. This unaired sauciness and boyish troops the King does smile at; and is well prepared to whip this dwarfish war, these pigmy arms. Know the gallant monarch is in arms, and you degenerate, you ingrate revolts, you bloody Neroes, ripping up the womb of your dear mother England, blush for shame.”
Lewis: “We grant thou can outscold us. Fare thee well; we hold our time too precious to be spent with such a babbler.”
Pandulph: “Give me leave to speak.”
Bastard: “No, I will speak.”
Lewis: “We will attend to neither. Strike up the drums; and let the tongue of war plead for our interest and our being here.”
Bastard; “Indeed, your drums, being beaten, will cry out; and so shall you, being beaten. Do but start the clamour of thy drum, and even at hand a drum is ready braced that shall reverberate all as loud as thine: sound but another, and another shall rattle the ear. Warlike John is this day to feast upon the whole thousands of the French.”
Lewis: “Strike up our drums to find this danger out.”
Bastard: “And thou shall find it out, Dauphin, do not doubt.”
Summary and Analysis
In the Dauphin’s camp Salisbury declares his loyalty to the French side but admits that it is very painful for him to do so. The Dauphin appeals to Salisbury and the other English lords to not be so sentimental and to look forward to the prosperity that will follow. Pandulph arrives to announce that England has made its peace with Rome and that therefore the French should curtail their advance upon English soil. The Dauphin simply cannot do this. It was Rome that set the French against England and now that it is coming along very successfully, the Dauphin refuses to surrender his advantage. The bastard appears to tell the French that King John has taken an army to the field that will destroy the French. The Dauphin insists that they will continue their attack on England and a clash of armies seems inevitable.
Act V
Scene iii
England. The field of battle.
Enter King John and Hubert
King John: “How goes the day with us, Hubert?”
Hubert: “Badly, I fear. How fares your Majesty?”
King John: “This fever that has troubled me so lies heavy on me. O, my heart is sick.”
Enter a messenger
Messenger: “My lord, your valiant kinsman, Faulconbridge, desires your majesty to leave the field and send him word by me which way you go. Be of good comfort; for the great supply that was expected by the Dauphin here are wrecked. The French fight coldly and retire themselves.”
King John: “Ay me, this tyrant fever burns me up, and will not let me welcome the good news. Weakness possesses me and I am faint.”
Summary and Analysis
King John is distraught on the battlefield with Hubert. He has a fever that troubles him. A messenger arrives to say that the French supplies have been wrecked at sea and that the French forces are in repeat. The King’s fever will not allow him to celebrate this good news because he is so weak and faint. As we shall soon learn, this fever and weakness is more than just a sickness.
Act V
Scene iv
England. Another part of the battlefield.
Enter Salisbury, Pembroke and Bigot.
Salisbury: “I did not think the King so stored with friends. That misbegotten devil, Faulconbridge, in spite of spite, alone upholds the day.”
Pembroke: “They say King John, sore sick, has left the field.”
Enter Melun wounded.
Pembroke: “It is the Count Melun.”
Salisbury: “Wounded to death.”
Melun: “Fly, noble English, unthread the rude eye of rebellion, and welcome home again discarded faith. Seek out King John, and fall before his feet; for if the French be lords of this loud day, he means to recompense the pains you take by cutting off your heads. This has he sworn.”
Salisbury: “May this be possible? May this be true?”
Melun: “Have I not hideous death within my view retaining but a quantity of life, which bleeds away? What is the world should make me now deceive, since I must lose the use of all deceit? Why should I then be false, since it is true that I must die here. I say again, if Lewis does win the day, he is forsworn if ever those eyes of yours behold another day break in the east; but even this night your breathing shall expire if Lewis by your assistance wins the day. For that my grandsire was an Englishman awakes my conscience to confess all this. In lieu whereof, I pray you, bear me hence from forth the noise and rumour of the field, where I may think the remnant of my thoughts in peace, and part this body and my soul with contemplation and devout desires.”
Salisbury: “We do believe thee. My arm shall give thee help to bear thee hence; for I do see the cruel pangs of death right in thine eye.”
Summary and Analysis
Salisbury, Pembroke and Bigot are astonished that the English army is so powerful. Melun, a wounded French lord, appeals to them to make their peace with King John because if the French win the day, the Dauphin has pledged to murder all of the English lords who have fought for France. O the shifting sands of war.
Act V
Scene V
England. The French Camp.
Enter Lewis
Lewis: “O, bravely came off we. After such bloody toil, we bid goodnight, and wound our tottering colours clearly up.”
Enter a messenger
Messenger: “The Count Melun is slain; the English lords by his persuasion are again fallen off, and your supply, which you have wished for so long, are cast away and sunk.”
Lewis: “Ah, foul, shrewd news! I did not think to be so sad tonight as this has made me.”
Summary and Analysis
The fortunes here turn against Lewis the Dauphin and the French forces, as the English lords have deserted them and their much needed essential supplies have been wrecked at sea. Their prospects of defeating England are now remote.
Act V
Scene vi
An open place near Swinstead Abbey
Enter the Bastard and Hubert
Bastard: “Come, come. What news abroad?”
Hubert: “News fitting to the night, black, fearful, comfortless and horrible.”
Bastard: “Show me the very wound of this ill news; I’ll not swoon at it.”
Hubert: “The King, I fear, is poisoned by a monk; I left him almost speechless and broke out to acquaint you with this evil.”
Bastard: “Who did taste to him?”
Hubert: “A monk, I tell you; a resolved villain. The King yet speaks.”
Bastard: “Who did thou leave to tend his Majesty?”
Hubert: “The Lords have all come back and they brought Prince Henry in their company; at whose request the King has pardoned them, and they are all about his Majesty.”
Bastard: “Conduct me to the King.”
Summary and Analysis
Good news and bad news. The lords have returned to the King. But the King has been poisoned by a monk, likely in response to the raiding of the monasteries. The end is near for King John and our play.
Act V
Scene vii
The orchard at Swinstead Abbey
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, does by the idle comments that it makes foretell the end of mortality.“
Enter Pembroke
Pembroke: “His Highness yet does speak, and holds belief that, being brought into the open air, it would allay the burning quality of that fell poison which assails him.”
Prince Henry: “Let him be brought into the orchard here. Does he still rage?”
Pembroke: “He is more patient than when you left him.”
Prince Henry: “O vanity of sickness! His siege is now against his mind, the which he pricks and wounds with many legions of strange fantasies, which confound themselves.”
Salisbury: “Be of good comfort, Prince; for you are born to set a form upon that indigent which he has left so shapeless and so rude.”
King John is carried in on a chair
King John: “Ay, marry, now my soul has elbow room. There is so hot a summer in my bosom, that all my bowels crumble up to dust, and against this fire do I shrink up.”
Prince Henry: “How fares your majesty?”
King John: “Poisoned – iil-fare! dead, forsook, cast-off. I beg cold comfort. Within me is a hell; and there the poison is as a fiend confined to tyrannize on unreprievable condemned blood.”
Enter the Bastard
Bastard: “O, I am scaled with my violent motion and spleen of speed to see your majesty.”
King John: “O cousin, the tackle of my heart is cracked and burnt and my heart has one poor string to stay it by, which holds but till thy news be uttered.”
Bastard: “The Dauphin is preparing hitherward, where God he knows how we shall answer him.”
King John dies
Prince Henry: “What surety of the world, what hope, what stay, when this was now a king, and now is clay?”
Bastard: “I do but stay behind to do the office for thee of revenge, and then my soul shall wait on thee to heaven, as it on earth has been thy servant still. 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.”
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 honour and respect may take, with purpose presently to leave this war.”
Bastard: “He will the rather do it when he sees ourselves well sinewed to our defence.”
Salisbury: “Nay, tis in a manner done already.”
Bastard: “Let it be so.”
Prince Henry: “At Worcester must his body be interred.”
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 and true subjection everlastingly.”
Salisbury: “And the like tender of our love we make.”
Prince Henry: “I have a kind soul that would give you thanks, and knows not how to do it but with tears.”
Bastard: “This England never did, nor never shall, lie at the proud foot of a conquerer, but when it first did help to wound itself. Now these her princes have come home again, come the three corners of the world in arms, and we shall shock them; nought shall make us rue, if England to itself do rest but true.”
Summary and Analysis
So ends the Life and Death of King John, likely Shakespeare’s first history play. The King is clearly dying. His son and heir, Prince Henry, mourns the fact that his father’s mind is gone while his body persists. John is brought in speaking wildly about having been poisoned. He finally dies and his son mourns him while they discuss his funeral. The final words belong to the bastard, who swears his loyalty to Prince Henry and proclaims that England has never been in danger of being conquered except when it divided against itself. England is now strong again and will remain so, according to the Bastard, so long as its citizens remain loyal. This is perhaps a look ahead to the War of the Roses, a struggle between the houses of Lancaster and York, that will tear the country apart from in the 15th century and will be the focus of several subsequent Shakespearean histories. Prince Henry will assume the throne upon the death of King John and will rule England, as King Henry III, for 56 years, the longest reign of an English monarch until that of George III in the 19th century.
Final Thoughts
King John stands alone in the history plays of Willam Shakespeare. John’s reign (1199-1216) was by far the earliest of all of Shakespeare’s historical monarchs. King Richard II (1377-1399), King Henry IV (1399-1413), Henry V (1413-1422) and Henry VI (1422-1461) tell the uninterrupted story of war and succession. The same story is picked up three monarch’s later with Richard III and then two monarchs later with Henry VIII (1509-1547), not long before Queen Elizabeth’s reign (1588-1603) and Shakespeare’s time. King John is concerned with many of the same themes as the other histories, namely a king’s efforts to retain the crown in the face of rival claims, debates about what constitutes legitimate rule, off and on again wars with France, complete with climactic battles, conflicts with the Church in Rome, disloyal lords, murders, assassinations, threats of invasions and the death of a king. And yet, King John remains among the most obscure of all of Shakespeare’s works for several reasons. The narrative is thin, there is no defining event and the only historically memorable occurrence in the reign of King John, the signing of the Magna Carta, is not even mentioned. The ending is generally regarded as unsatisfactory and all of the characters other than the Bastard do not seem fully developed. On the other hand, the Bastard is a marvellous character and several speeches throughout the play are as fine as you will see in any of the Bard’s work. Characters are often examining their own identities in these impressive reflections. King John, in the end, is regarded as a rather uneven bag of tricks whether read or performed. Nonetheless, you can find several Youtube audio versions and at least two stage productions (The Wichita Shakespeare Company and the MIT Shakespeare Ensemble). There is no record of any stage productions of King John in Shakespeare’s day and in fact the earliest one we are aware of is as late as 1737 in Covent Gardens, London. Well regarded 20th century stagings have seen Ralph Richardson, Paul Scofield and Richard Burton in the role of the Bastard.
William Shakespeare: Journey Through Genius 