But for because he hath not woo'd me yet: ACT III. SCENE I. The same. The French King's Tent. Enter CONSTANCE, ARTHUR, and SALISBURY. Const. Gone to be married! gone to swear a peace! False blood to false blood join'd! Gone to be friends! Shall Lewis have Blanch? and Blanch those provinces ? It is not so; thou hast misspoke, misheard; 9 But for -] i. e. because. 1 For I am sick, and capable of fears;] i. e. I have a strong sensibility; I am tremblingly alive to apprehension. Oppress'd with wrongs, and therefore full of fears; And though thou now confess, thou didst but jest, As doth the fury of two desperate men, Fellow, be gone; I cannot brook thy sight; Sal. What other harm have I, good lady, done, Arth. I do beseech you, madam, be content. Const. If thou, that bid'st me be content, wert grim, Ugly, and sland'rous to thy mother's womb, 2 sightless] The poet uses sightless for that which we now express by unsightly, disagreeable to the eyes. 4 Lame, foolish, crooked, swart,3 prodigious, Sal. Pardon me, madam, I may not go without you to the kings. Const. Thou may'st, thou shalt, I will not go I will instruct my sorrows to be proud; 3 swart,] Swart is brown, inclining to black. prodigious,] That is, portentous, so deformed as to be taken for a foretoken of evil. To me, and to the state of my great grief, Let kings assemble;] In Much Ado about Nothing, the father of Hero, depressed by her disgrace, declares himself so subdued by grief, that a thread may lead him. How is it that grief, in Leonato and Lady Constance, produces effects directly opposite, and yet both agreeable to nature? Sorrow softens the mind while it is yet warmed by hope, but hardens it when it is congealed by That no supporter but the huge firm earth Here is my throne, bid kings come bow to it. [She throws herself on the ground. Enter King JOHN, King PHILIP, LEWIS, BLANCH, ELINOR, Bastard, AUSTRIA, and Attendants. K. Phi. 'Tis true, fair daughter; and this blessed day, Ever in France shall be kept festival: Const. A wicked day, and not a holyday!. [Rising. What hath this day deserv'd? what hath it done; That it in golden letters should be set, Among the high tides, in the kalendar? Nay, rather, turn this day out of the week; This day of shame, oppression, perjury: Or, if it must stand still, let wives with child Pray, that their burdens may not fall this day, Lest that their hopes prodigiously be cross'd:" But on this day, let seamen fear no wreck; despair. Distress, while there remains any prospect of relief, is weak and flexible, but when no succour remains, is fearless and stubborn; angry alike at those that injure, and at those that do not help; careless to please where nothing can be gained, and fearless to offend when there is nothing further to be dreaded. Such was this writer's knowledge of the passions. 6 high tides,] i. e. solemn seasons. 7- prodigiously be cross'd:] i. e. be disappointed by the production of a prodigy, a monster. But on this day,] That is, except on this day. No bargains break, that are not this day made: K. Phi. By heaven, lady, you shall have no cause Const. You have beguil'd me with a counterfeit, Resembling majesty; which, being touch'd, and tried, Proves valueless: You are forsworn, forsworn; And our oppression hath made up this league:- Wear out the day in peace; but, ere sunset, Aust. Lady Constance, peace. Const. War! war! no peace! peace is to me a war. O Lymoges! O Austria!" thou dost shame 90 Lymoges! O Austria!] The propriety or impropriety of these titles, which every editor has suffered to pass unnoted, deserves a little consideration. Shakspeare has, on this occasion, followed the old play, which at once furnished him with the character of Faulconbridge, and ascribed the death of Richard I. to the duke of Austria. In the person of Austria he has conjoined the two well-known enemies of Coeur-de-lion. Leopold, duke of Austria, threw him into prison, in a former expedition; [in 1193] but the castle of Chaluz, before which he fell [in 1199] belonged to Vidomar, viscount of Limoges; and the archer who pierced his shoulder with an arrow (of which wound he died) was Bertrand de Gourdon. The editors seem hitherto to have understood Lymoges as being an appendage to the title of Austria, and therefore enquired no further about it. |