Pand. Courage and comfort! all shall yet go well.
K. Phi. What can go well, when we have run so ill?5
Are we not beaten? Is not Angiers lost?
Arthur ta'en prisoner? divers dear friends slain?
And bloody England into England gone,
O'erbearing interruption, spite of France?
Lew. What he hath won, that hath he fortified:10
So hot a speed with such advice disposed,
Such temperate order in so fierce a cause,[361]
Doth want example: who hath read or heard
Of any kindred action like to this?
K. Phi. Well could I bear that England had this praise,15
So we could find some pattern of our shame.
Enter Constance.
Look, who comes here! a grave unto a soul;[362]
Holding the eternal spirit, against her will,[363]
In the vile prison of afflicted breath.[364]
I prithee, lady, go away with me.20
Const. Lo, now! now see the issue of your peace.
K. Phi. Patience, good lady! comfort, gentle Constance!
Const. No, I defy all counsel, all redress,
But that which ends all counsel, true redress,[365]
Death, death; O amiable lovely death![365]25
Thou odoriferous stench! sound rottenness![366]
Arise forth from the couch of lasting night,[367]
Thou hate and terror to prosperity,
And I will kiss thy detestable bones[368]
And put my eyeballs in thy vaulty brows30
And ring these fingers with thy household worms
And stop this gap of breath with fulsome dust
And be a carrion monster like thyself:
Come, grin on me, and I will think thou smilest,
And buss thee as thy wife. Misery's love,[369]35
O, come to me!
K. Phil. O fair affliction, peace!