King John
William Shakespeare
- 129 pages
- English
- ePUB (mobile friendly)
- Available on iOS & Android
King John
William Shakespeare
About This Book
Classic Books Library presents this new beautiful edition of William Shakespeare's history play, "King John". This edition features a specially commissioned new biography of William Shakespeare. Supported by France, a claim to be the rightful heir to throne arises from Arthur, the King's nephew, and King John is asked to step down. He refuses, and France and England enter into battle. The play depicts the difficulties and struggles for power and ownership that come with war and sovereignty. Set in 13th century England, the events depicted take place before Shakespeare's other history plays. William Shakespeare (1564 - 1616) was an English playwright, poet, and actor. He is considered to be the greatest writer in the English language and is celebrated as the world's most famous dramatist.
Frequently asked questions
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Heat me these irons hot; and look thou stand
Within the arras: when I strike my foot
Upon the bosom of the ground, rush forth
And bind the boy which you shall find with me
Fast to the chair: be heedful: hence, and watch.
I hope your warrant will bear out the deed.
Uncleanly scruples! Fear not you; look to't.—
Good morrow, Hubert.
Good morrow, little prince.
As little prince, having so great a tide
To be more prince, as may be.—You are sad.
Indeed I have been merrier.
Mercy on me!
Methinks no body should be sad but I:
Yet, I remember, when I was in France,
Young gentlemen would be as sad as night,
Only for wantonness. By my christendom,
So I were out of prison, and kept sheep,
I should be as merry as the day is long;
And so I would be here, but that I doubt
My uncle practises more harm to me:
He is afraid of me, and I of him:
Is it my fault that I was Geffrey's son?
No, indeed, is't not; and I would to heaven
I were your son, so you would love me, Hubert.
[Aside.] If I talk to him, with his innocent prate
He will awake my mercy, which lies dead:
Therefore I will be sudden and despatch.
Are you sick, Hubert? you look pale to-day:
In sooth, I would you were a little sick,
That I might sit all night and watch with you:
I warrant I love you more than you do me.
[Aside.] His words do take possession of my bosom.—
Read here, young Arthur.
Turning dispiteous torture out of door!
I must be brief, lest resolution drop
Out at mine eyes in tender womanish tears.—
Can you not read it? is it not fair writ?
Too fairly, Hubert, for so foul effect.
Must you with hot irons burn out both mine eyes?
Young boy, I must.
And will you?
And I will.
Have you the heart? When your head did but ache,
I knit my handkerchief about your brows,—
The best I had, a princess wrought it me,—
And I did never ask it you again;
And with my hand at midnight held your head;
And, like the watchful minutes to the hour,
Still and anon cheer'd up the heavy time,
Saying 'What lack you?' and 'Where lies your grief?'
Or 'What good love may I perform for you?'
Many a poor man's son would have lien still,
A...