Chapter: SCENE 7.

The orchard of Swinstead Abbey.

[Enter PRINCE HENRY, SALISBURY, and BIGOT.]

PRINCE HENRY.
It is too late: the life of all his blood
Is touch'd 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.

[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.--
Doth he still rage?

[Exit BIGOT.]

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.
Death, having prey'd 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,
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
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.

[Re-enter BIGOT and Attendants, who bring in KING JOHN in a
chair.]

KING JOHN.
Ay, marry, now my soul hath elbow-room;
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
Do I shrink up.

PRINCE HENRY.
How fares your majesty?

KING JOHN.
Poison'd,--ill-fare;--dead, forsook, cast off;
And none of you will bid the winter come,
To thrust his icy fingers in my maw;
Nor let my kingdom's rivers take their course
Through my burn'd bosom; nor entreat the north
To make his bleak winds kiss my parched lips,
And comfort me with cold:--I do not ask you much;
I beg cold comfort; and you are so strait,
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
Is, as a fiend, confin'd to tyrannize
On unreprievable condemned blood.

[Enter the 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:
The tackle of my heart is crack'd and burn'd;
And all the shrouds, wherewith my life should sail,
Are turned to one thread, one little hair:
My heart hath one poor string to stay it by,
Which holds but till thy news be uttered;
And then all this thou seest is but a clod,
And module of confounded royalty.

BASTARD.
The Dauphin is preparing hitherward,
Where heaven he knows how we shall answer him;
For in a night the best part of my power,
As I upon advantage did remove,
Were in the washes all unwarily
Devoured by the unexpected flood.

[The KING dies.]

SALISBURY.
You breathe these dead news in as dead an ear.
My liege! my lord!--But now a king,--now thus.

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,
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;
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.

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;
For many carriages he hath despatch'd
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.

BASTARD.
Let it be so:--And you, my noble prince,
With other princes that may best be spar'd,
Shall wait upon your father's funeral.

PRINCE HENRY.
At Worcester must his body be interr'd;
For so he will'd it.

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,
To rest without a spot for evermore.

PRINCE HENRY.
I have a kind soul that would give you thanks,
And knows not how to do it but with tears.

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.
Now these her princes are 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.

[Exeunt.]

 The scene opens in an orchard at Swinstead Abbey. Prince Henry, Salisbury, and Lord Bigot come onstage first. Prince Henry tells us 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? Pembroke tells us 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. Right now, we're seeing the last stages of the king's illness. At this point, Lord Bigot and some other attendants come in, carrying King John in a chair. King John complains about the horrible pain he's in; he wants to die as quickly as possible. He complains that nothing can get rid of the burning sensation that is tormenting him. Now the Bastard comes in. The Bastard warns them all 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 then, King John dies. 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." But then Salisbury says, "Hey, calm down. Don't you know? Cardinal Pandolf is inside--he just came to us with a message from Louis, who says he quits. There's no more war." Salisbury explains that 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. That's it. What? You're not satisfied? Go to "What's Up With the Ending?" if you want more.

