SALISBURY. My Lord of Normandy, I have your pass And warrant for my safety through this land. CHARLES. Villiers procured it for thee, did he not? SALISBURY. He did. CHARLES. And it is current; thou shalt freely pass. KING JOHN. Aye, freely to the gallows to be hanged, Without denial or impediment. Away with him! CHARLES. I hope your highness will not so disgrace me, And dash the virtue of my seal at arms: He hath my never broken name to shew, Charactered with this princely hand of mine: And rather let me leave to be a prince Than break the stable verdict of a prince: I do beseech you, let him pass in quiet. KING JOHN. Thou and thy word lie both in my command; What canst thou promise that I cannot break? Which of these twain is greater infamy, To disobey thy father or thy self? Thy word, nor no mans, may exceed his power; Nor that same man doth never break his word, That keeps it to the utmost of his power. The breach of faith dwells in the soul’s consent: Which if thy self without consent do break, Thou art not charged with the breach of faith. Go, hang him: for thy license lies in me, And my constraint stands the excuse for thee. CHARLES. What, am I not a soldier in my word? Then, arms, adieu, and let them fight that list! Shall I not give my girdle from my waste, But with a gardion I shall be controlled, To say I may not give my things away? Upon my soul, had Edward, prince of Wales, Engaged his word, writ down his noble hand For all your knights to pass his father’s land, The royal king, to grace his warlike son, Would not alone safe conduct give to them, But with all bounty feasted them and theirs. KING JOHN. Dwelst thou on precedents? Then be it so! Say, Englishman, of what degree thou art. SALISBURY. An Earl in England, though a prisoner here, And those that know me, call me Salisbury. KING JOHN. Then, Salisbury, say whether thou art bound. SALISBURY. To Callice, where my liege, king Edward, is. KING JOHN. To Callice, Salisbury? Then, to Callice pack, And bid the king prepare a noble grave, To put his princely son, black Edward, in. And as thou travelst westward from this place, Some two leagues hence there is a lofty hill, Whose top seems topless, for the embracing sky Doth hide his high head in her azure bosom; Upon whose tall top when thy foot attains, Look back upon the humble vale beneath— Humble of late, but now made proud with arms— And thence behold the wretched prince of Wales, Hooped with a bond of iron round about. After which sight, to Callice spur amain, And say, the prince was smothered and not slain: And tell the king this is not all his ill; For I will greet him, ere he thinks I will. Away, be gone; the smoke but of our shot Will choke our foes, though bullets hit them not. [Exit.] ACT IV. SCENE VI. The same. A Part of the Field of Battle. [Alarum. Enter prince Edward and Artois.] ARTOIS. How fares your grace? are you not shot, my Lord?