GRIEF OF CONSTANCE.-ACT III. SCENE 4. Constance, mother to Prince Arthur, is overwhelmed with grief at the capture of her son. SCENE-The French King's tent. Pand. Lady, you utter madness, and not sorrow. Const. Thou art not holy, to belie me1 so; I am not mad: this hair I tear is mine; My name is Constance; I was Geffrey's2 wife; Young Arthur is my son, and he is lost: I am not mad;-I would, in sooth, I were! For then, 'tis like I should forget myself: Oh, if I could, what grief should I forget!Preach some philosophy to make me mad. 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. 3 K. Phi. Bind up those tresses.-Oh what love I note In the fair multitude of these her hairs! 5 10 When but by chance a silver drop hath fallen, 15 Like true, inseparable, faithful lovers, Bind up your hairs. 20 Const. Yes, that I will; and wherefore will I do it? I tore them from their bonds; and cried aloud, heaven: If that be true, I shall see my boy again; 25 30 For since the birth of Cain, the first male child, 7 35 When I shall meet him in the court of heaven 8 Pand. You hold too heinous a respect of grief. Const. He talks to me that never had a son. K. Phi. You are as fond of grief as of your child. Const. Grief fills the room up of my absent child, Lies in his bed, walks up and down with me; Puts on his pretty looks, repeats his words, Remembers me of all his gracious parts, Stuffs out his vacant garments with his form; Then have I reason to be fond of grief.Fare 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, 9 [Tearing it off. 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. K. Phi. I fear some outrage, and I'll follow her. 45 50 55 [Exit. H Arthur, having been sent to England, is imprisoned in Northampton Castle. (Historically this is not true. Arthur was first sent to Falaise, then to Rouen; but Shakespeare's arrangement of the play requires the scene to be laid in England.) SCENE.-A room in Northampton Castle. Enter Hubert, and two Attendants. Hub. Heat me these irons hot; and, look thou stand 1 Within the arras: 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: be heedful: hence, and Young lad, come forth; I have to say with you. Enter ARTHur. Arth. Good morrow, Hubert. 5 Hub. Good morrow, little prince. 10 Arth. As little prince (having so great a title To be more prince) as may be.-You are sad. 6 7 Arth. 9 8 Is it my fault that I was Geffrey's son ? 10 He will awake my mercy, which lies dead: In sooth,12 I would you were a little sick, 15 20 25 30 Read here, young Arthur. [Showing a paper. 35 [Aside] How now, foolish rheum! 13 14 Turning dispiteous 1 torture out of door! |