Page 176 - Shakespeare - Vol. 2

Stays in his course and plays the alchemist,
Turning with splendour of his precious eye
The meagre cloddy earth to glittering gold: [80]
The yearly course that brings this day about

Shall never see it but a holy day.

CONSTANCE
A wicked day, and not a holy day!
[Rising.]
What hath this day deserv’d? what hath it done,

That it in golden letters should be set [85]
Among the high tides in the calendar?
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 burthens may not fall this day, [90]
Lest that their hopes prodigiously be cross’d:
But on this day let seamen fear no wrack;

No bargains break that are not this day made;
This day, all things begun come to ill end,
Yea, faith itself to hollow falsehood change! [95]

KING PHILIP
By heaven, lady, you shall have no cause
To curse the fair proceedings of this day:

Have I not pawn’d to you my majesty?

CONSTANCE
You have beguil’d me with a counterfeit
Resembling majesty, which, being touch’d and tried, [100]
Proves valueless: you are forsworn, forsworn!

You came in arms to spill mine enemies’ blood,
But now in arms you strengthen it with yours.
The grappling vigour and rough frown of war
Is cold in amity, and painted peace, [105]
And our oppression hath made up this league.

Arm, arm, you heavens, against these perjur’d kings!
A widow cries; be husband to me, heavens!