AUSTRIA. O that a man should speak those words to me! BASTARD. And hang a calf’s-skin on those recreant limbs. AUSTRIA. Thou dar’st not say so, villain, for thy life. BASTARD. And hang a calf’s-skin on those recreant limbs. KING JOHN. We like not this. Thou dost forget thyself. KING PHILIP. Here comes the holy legate of the Pope. Enter Pandulph. PANDULPH. Hail, you anointed deputies of heaven! To thee, King John, my holy errand is. I Pandulph, of fair Milan cardinal, And from Pope Innocent the legate here, Do in his name religiously demand Why thou against the church, our holy mother, So wilfully dost spurn; and force perforce Keep Stephen Langton, chosen Archbishop Of Canterbury, from that holy see. This, in our foresaid holy father’s name, Pope Innocent, I do demand of thee. KING JOHN. What earthy name to interrogatories Can task the free breath of a sacred king? Thou canst not, cardinal, devise a name So slight, unworthy, and ridiculous, To charge me to an answer, as the pope. Tell him this tale; and from the mouth of England Add thus much more, that no Italian priest Shall tithe or toll in our dominions; But as we under God are supreme head, So, under Him, that great supremacy, Where we do reign, we will alone uphold Without th’ assistance of a mortal hand. So tell the pope, all reverence set apart To him and his usurp’d authority. KING PHILIP. Brother of England, you blaspheme in this. KING JOHN. Though you and all the kings of Christendom Are led so grossly by this meddling priest, Dreading the curse that money may buy out; And by the merit of vile gold, dross, dust, Purchase corrupted pardon of a man, Who in that sale sells pardon from himself; Though you and all the rest, so grossly led, This juggling witchcraft with revenue cherish, Yet I alone, alone do me oppose Against the pope, and count his friends my foes. PANDULPH. Then, by the lawful power that I have, Thou shalt stand curs’d and excommunicate; And blessed shall he be that doth revolt From his allegiance to an heretic; And meritorious shall that hand be call’d, Canonized and worshipp’d as a saint, That takes away by any secret course Thy hateful life. CONSTANCE. O, lawful let it be That I have room with Rome to curse awhile! Good father Cardinal, cry thou amen To my keen curses; for without my wrong There is no tongue hath power to curse him right. PANDULPH. There’s law and warrant, lady, for my curse. CONSTANCE. And for mine too. When law can do no right, Let it be lawful that law bar no wrong. Law cannot give my child his kingdom here, For he that holds his kingdom holds the law; Therefore, since law itself is perfect wrong, How can the law forbid my tongue to curse? PANDULPH. Philip of France, on peril of a curse, Let go the hand of that arch-heretic, And raise the power of France upon his head, Unless he do submit himself to Rome. QUEEN ELEANOR. Look’st thou pale, France? Do not let go thy hand.