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This act, so evilly born, shall cool the hearts
Of all his people, and freeze up their zeal;
That none so small advantage shall step forth,
To check his reign, but they will cherish it:
No natural exhalation in the sky,
No scape of nature, no distemper'd day,
No common wind, no customed event,

But they will pluck away his natural cause,
And call them meteors, prodigies, and signs,
Abortives, présages, and tongues of heaven,
Plainly denouncing vengeance upon John.
Lew. May be, he will not touch young Ar-
thur's life,

But hold himself safe in his prisonment.
Pand. O, Sir, when he shall hear of your
approach,

If that young Arthur be not gone already,
Even at that news he dies: and then the hearts
Of all his people shall revolt from him,
And kiss the lips of unacquainted change;
And pick strong matter of revolt, and wrath,
Out of the bloody fingers' ends of John.
Methinks, I see this hurly all on foot;
And, O, what better matter breeds for you,
Than I have nam'd!-The bastard Faulcon-
bridge

Is now in England, ransacking the church,
Offending charity: If but a dozen French
Were there in arms, they would be as a call
To train ten thousand English to their side;
Or, as a little snow, tumbled about,
Anon becomes a mountain. O noble Dauphin,
Go with me to the king: 'Tis wonderful,
What may be wrought out of their discontent:
Now that their souls are topfull of offence,
For England go; I will whet on the king.
Lew. Strong reasons make strong actions:
Let us go;

If you say, ay, the king will not say, no.
[Exeunt.

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me,

Fast to the chair: be heedful: hence, and watch. 1 Attend. I hope, your warrant will bear out the deed.

Hub. Uncleanly scruples! Fear not you: look to't.- Exeunt ATTENDANTS. Young lad, come forth; I have to say with you. Enter ARTHUR.

Arth. Good morrow, Hubert.

Hub. Good morrow, little prince.
Arth. As little prince (having so great a title
To be more prince,) as may be.-You are sad.
Hub. Indeed, I have been merrier.
Arth. 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:

* Tapestry.

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Read here, young Arthur. [Showing a paper.]
How now, foolish rheum! [Aside.
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?

Arth. Too fairly, Hubert, for so foul effect: Must you with hot irons burn out both mine eyes?

Hub. Young boy, I must.
Arth. And will you?
Hub. And I will.

Arth. Have you the heart? When your head

did but ake,

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 lain still,
And ne'er have spoke a loving word to you;
But you at your sick service had a prince.
Nay, you may think, my love was crafty love,
And call it, cunning; Do, an if you will:
If heaven be pleas'd that you must use me ill,
Why, then you must.-Will you put out mine
eyes?

These eyes, that never did, nor never shall,
So much as frown on you?

Hub. I have sworn to do it;

And with hot irons must I burn them out. Arth. Ab, none, but in this iron age, would do it!

The iron of itself, though heat red-hot,
Approaching near these eyes, would drink my
And quench his fiery indignation, [tears,
Even in the matter of mine innocence:
Nay, after that, consume away in rust,
But for containing fire to harm mine eye.
Are you more stubborn-hard than hammer'd
iron?

An if an angel should have come to me,
And told me, Hubert should put out mine eyes,
I would not have believ'd no tongue, but Hu-

bert's.

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For heaven's sake, Hubert, let me not be
bound!

Nay, hear me, Hubert! drive these men away,
And I will sit as quiet as a lamb;

I will not stir, nor wince, nor speak a word,
Nor look upon the iron angerly:
Thurst but these men away, and I'll forgive
Whatever torment you do put me to. [you,
Hub. Go, stand within; let me alone with

him.

1 Attend. I am best pleas'd to be from such a
deed.
[Exeunt ATTENDANTS.
Arth. Alas! I then have chid away my friend;
He hath a stern look, but a gentle heart:-
Let him come back, that his compassion may
Give life to yours.

Hub. Come, boy, prepare yourself.
Arth. Is there no remedy?

Hub. None, but to lose your eyes.
Arth. O heaven!-that there were but a mote
in yours,

A grain, a dust, a gnat, a wand'ring hair,
Any annoyance in that precious sense!
Then, feeling what small things are boist'rous
there,

Your vile intent must needs seem horrible.

Hub. Is this your promise? go to, hold your tongue.

Arth. Hubert, the utterance of a brace of

tongues

Must needs want pleading for a pair of eyes:
Let me not hold my tongue; let me not, Hu-

bert!

Or, Hubert, if you will, cut out my tongue,
So I may keep mine eyes; O, spare mine eyes;
Though to no use, but still to look on you!
Lo, by my troth, the instrument is cold,
And would not harm me.

Hub. I can heat it, boy.

Arth. No, in good sooth; the fire is with grief,

SCENE II.-The same.-A Room of State in
the Paluce.

Enter King JOHN, crowned; PEMBROKE, SALIS-
BURY, and other Lords. The King takes his
State.

K. John. Here once again we sit, once again
crown'd,

ness pleas'd,

And look'd upon, I hope, with cheerful eyes.
Pem. This once again, but that your high-
[fore,
Was once superfluous: you were crown'd be-
And that high royalty was ne'er pluck'd-off;
The faiths of men ne'er stained with revolt;
Fresh expectation troubled not the land,
With any long'd-for change, or better state.

Sal. Therefore, to be possess'd with double
To guard a title that was rich before, [pomp,
To gild refined gold, to paint the lily,"
To throw a perfume on the violet,
To smooth the ice, or add another hue
Unto the rainbow, or with taper-light
To seek the beauteous eye of heaven to gar-
Is wasteful, and ridiculous excess. [nish,t
Pem. But that your royal pleasure must be
done,

This act is as an ancient tale new told;
And, in the last repeating, troublesome,
Being urged at a time unseasonable.

Sal. In this, the antique and well-noted face
Of plain old form is much disfigured:
And, like a shifted wind unto a sail,
It makes the course of thoughts to fetch about:
Startles and frights consideration;
Makes sound opinion sick, and truth suspected,
For putting on so new a fashion'd robe.

Pem. When workmen strive to do better than
well,

They do confound their skill in covetousness: deadAnd, oftentimes, excusing of a fault,

Being create for comfort, to be us'd
In undeserv'd extremes: See else yourself;
There is no malice in this burning coal;
The breath of heaven hath blown his spirit out,
And strew'd repentant ashes on his head.
Hub. But with my breath I can revive it, boy.
Arth. And if you do, you will but make it
blush,
[Hubert:
And glow with shame of your proceedings,
Nay, it, perchance, will sparkle in your eyes;
And, like a dog that is compell'd to fight,
Snatch at his master that doth tarret him on.
All things, that you should use to do me wrong,
Deny their office: only you do lack
That mercy, which fierce fire, and iron, extends,
Creatures of note, for mercy-lacking uses.
Hub. Well, see to live; I will not touch thine
eyes

For all the treasure that thine uncle owes :+
Yet am I sworn, and I did purpose, boy,
With this same very iron to burn them out.
Arth. O, now you look like Hubert! all this
You were disguised.

[while

Hub. Peace: no more. Adieu;
Your uncle must not know but you are dead:
I'll fill these dogged spies with false reports.
And, pretty child, sleep doubtless, and secure,
That Hubert, for the wealth of all the world,
Will not offend thee.

Arth. O heaven!-I thank you, Hubert.
Hub. Silence; no more: Go closely in with

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Doth make the fault the worse by the excuse;
As patches, set upon a little breach,
Discredit more in hiding of the fault,
Than did the fault before it was so patch'd.+
Sal. To this effect, before you were new-
[highness
We breath'd our counsel: but it pleas'd your
To overbear it; and we are all well pleas'd;
Since all and every part of what we would,
Doth make a stand at what your highness will.
K. John. Some reasons of this double coro-

crown'd,

⚫ nation

[strong;

I have possess'd you with, and think them
And more, more strong, (when lesser is my
fear,)
I shall indue you with: Mean time, but ask
What you would have reform'd, that is not
well;

And well shall you perceive, how willingly
I will both hear and grant you your requests.
Pem. Then I, (as one that am the tongue of

these,

To sounds the purposes of all their hearts,)
Both for myself and them, (but, chief of all,
Your safety, for the which myself and them
Bend their best studies,) heartily request
The enfranchisement of Arthur; whose re-
straint

Doth move the murmuring lips of discontent
To break into this dangerous argument,
If, what in rest you have, in right you hold,
Why then your fears, (which, as they say, at-
tend
Tup
The steps of wrong,) should move you to mew

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Your tender kinsman, and to choke his days With barbarous ignorance, and deny his youth The rich advantage of good exercise? That the time's enemies may not have this To grace occasions, let it be our suit, That you have bid us ask his liberty; Which for our goods we do no further ask, Than whereupon our weal, on you depending, Counts it your weal, he have his liberty. K. John. Let it be so; I do commit his youth Enter HUBERT.

To your direction.-Hubert, what news with you?

Pem. This is the man should do the bloody deed;

He show'd his warrant to a friend of mine:
The image of a wicked heinous fault
Lives in his eye; that close aspect of his
Does show the mood of a much-troubled breast;
And I do fearfully believe, 'tis done,
What we so fear'd he had a charge to do.

Sal. The colour of the king doth come and Between his purpose and his conscience, [go, Like heralds 'twixt two dreadful battles set: His passion is so ripe, it needs must break. Pem. And, when it breaks, I fear, will issue thence

The foul corruption of a sweet child's death. K. John. We cannot hold mortality's strong hand:

Good lords, although my will to give is living, The suit which you demand is gone and dead: He tells us, Arthur is deceas'd to night.

Sal. Indeed, we fear'd, his sickness was past

cure.

Pem. Indeed we heard how near his death he was,

Before the child himself felt he was sick :
This must be answer'd, either here, or hence.
K. John. Why do you bend such solemn
brows on me?"

Think you, I bear the shears of destiny?
Have I commandment on the pulse of life?
Sul. It is apparent foul-play; and 'tis shame,
That greatness should so grossly offer it:
So thrive it in your game! and so farewell.
Pem. Stay yet, lord Salisbury; I'll go with
thee,

And find the inheritance of this poor child,
His little kingdom of a forced grave. [isle,
That blood, which ow'd the breath of all this
Three foot of it doth hold; Bad world the
while!
[out
This must not be thus borne: this will break
To all our sorrows, and ere long, I doubt.
[Exeunt LORDS.
K. John. They burn in indignation; I re-
pent;

There is no sure foundation set on blood;
No certain life achiev'd by others' death.-

Enter a MESSEnger.

A fearful eye thou hast; Where is that blood,
That I have seen inhabit in those cheeks?
So foul a sky clears not without a storm:
Pour down thy weather:-How goes all in
France?

Mess. From France to England.-Never such a powert

For any foreign preparation,
Was levied in the body of a land!

The copy of your speed is learn'd by them;
For, when you should be told they do prepare,
The tidings come, that they are all arriv❜d. ̧
+ Force.

* Owned.

K. John. O, where hath our intelligence been drunk? [care? Where hath it slept? Where is my mother's That such an army could be drawn in France, And she not hear of it?

Mess. My liege, her ear

Is stopp'd with dust; the first of April, died Your noble mother: And, as I hear, my lord, The lady Constance in a frenzy died [tongue Three days before: but this from rumour's I idly heard; if true or false, I know not.

K. John. Withhold thy speed, dreadful oc

casion!

O, make a league with me, till I have pleas'd My discontented peers!-What! mother dead? How wildly then walks my estate in France!— Under whose conduct came those powers of France,

That thou for truth giv'st out, are landed here? Mess. Under the Dauphin.

Enter the BASTARD and PETER of Pomfret.

K. John. Thou hast made me giddy [world With these ill tidings. Now, what says the To your proceedings? do not seek to stuff My head with more ill news, for it is full.

Bast. But, if you be afeard to hear the worst, Then let the worst, unheard, fall on your head. K. John. Bear with me, cousin; For I was amaz'd

Under the tide: but now I breathe again
Aloft the flood; and can give audience
To any tongue, speak it of what it will.

Bast. How I have sped among the clergy

men,

The sums I have collected shall express.
But as I travelled hither through the land,
I find the people strangely fantasied;
Possess'd with rumours, full of idle dreams;
Not knowing what they fear, but full of fear:
And here's a prophet, that I brought with me
From forth the streets of Pomfret, whom I
found

With many hundreds treading on his heels; To whom he sung, in rude harsh-sounding rhymes,

That, ere the next Ascension-day at noon, Your highness should deliver up your crown. K. John. Thou idle dreamer, wherefore didst thou so?

Peter. Foreknowing that the truth will fall

out so.

K. John. Hubert away with him; imprison him;

And on that day at noon, whereon, he says,
I shall yield up my crown, let him be hang'd:
Deliver him to safety, and return,
For I must use thee.-O my gentle cousin,
[Exit HUBERT, with PETER.
Hear'st thou the news abroad, who are arriv'd?
Bast. The French, my lord; men's mouths

are full of it:

Besides, I met lord Bigot, and lord Salisbury,
(With eyes as red as new-enkindled fire,)
And others more, going to seek the grave
Of Arthur, who, they say, is kill'd to night
On your suggestion.

K. John. Gentle kinsman, go,
And thrust thyself into their companies:
I have a way to win their loves again;
Bring them before me.

Bast. I will seek them out.

K. John. Nay, but make haste; the better foot before.

O, let me have no subject enemies,

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eyes.

1

I saw a smith stand with his hammer, thus,
The whilst his iron did on the anvil cool,
With open mouth swallowing a tailor's news;
Who, with his shears and measure in his hand,
Standing on slippers, (which his nimble haste
Had falsely thrust upon contráry feet,)
Told of a many thousand warlike French,
That were embatteled and rank'd in Kent:
Another lean unwash'd artificer

Cuts off his tale, and talks of Arthur's death. K. John. Why seek'st thou to possess me with these fears?

Why urgest thou so oft young Arthur's death? Thy hand hath murder'd him: I had mighty [him.

cause

To wish him dead, but thou hadst none to kill Hub. Had none, my lord! why, did you not provoke me?

K. John. It is the curse of kings, to be attended

By slaves, that take their humours for a war-
To break within the bloody house of life:
And, on the winking of authority,

K. John. Hadst thou but shook thy head, or made a pause,

When I spake darkly what I purposed;
Or turn'd an eye of doubt upon my face,
As bid me tell my tale in express words;
Deep shame had struck me dumb, made me
break off,
[in me:
And those thy fears might have wrought fears
But thou didst understand me by my signs,
And didst in signs again parley with sin;
Yea, without stop, didst let thy heart consent,
And, consequently, thy rude hand to act
The deed, which both our tongues held vile to

name,

Out of my sight, and never see me more!
My nobles leave me; and my state is brav❜d,
Even at my gates, with ranks of foreign powers:
Nay, in the body of this fleshly land,*

This kingdom, this confine of blood and breath,
Hostility and civil tumult reigns [death.
Between my conscience, and my cousin's

Hub. Arm you against your other enemies, I'll make a peace between your soul and you. Young Arthur is alive: This hand of mine Is yet a maiden and an innocent hand, Not painted with the crimson spots of blood. Within this bosom never enter'd yet The dreadful motion of a murd'rous thought, And you have slander'd nature in my form; Which, howsoever rude exteriorly, Is yet the cover of a fairer mind Than to be butcher of an innocent child.

K. John. Doth Arthur live? O, haste thee to the peers,

Throw this report on their incensed rage,
And make them tame to their obedience!
Forgive the comment that my passion made
Upon thy feature; for my rage was blind,
And foul imaginary eyes of blood
Presented thee more hideous than thou art.
O, answer not; but to my closet bring
The angry lords, with all expedient haste:
I conjure thee but slowly; run more fast.

[Exeunt.

SCENE III.-The same.-Before the Castle.
Enter ARTHUR, on the Walls.

Arth. The wall is high; and yet will I leap
down:-

[rant Good ground, be pitiful, and hurt me not!—
There's few, or none, do know me; if they did,
This ship-boy's semblance hath disguis'd me
I am afraid; and yet I'll venture it. [quite.
I'll find a thousand shifts to get away:
If I get down, and do not break my limbs,
As good to die, and go, as die, and stay.
[Leaps down.

To understand a law; to know the meaning Of dangerous majesty, when, perchance, it

frowns

More upon humour than advis'd respect.* Hub. Here is your hand and seal for what I did.

K. John. O, when the last account 'twixt

heaven and earth

Is to be made, then shall this hand and seal
Witness against us to damnation!
How oft the sight of means to do ill deeds,
Makes deeds ill done! Hadest not thou been
A fellow by the hand of nature mark'd, [by,
Quoted, and sign'd, to do a deed of shame,
This murder had not come into my mind:
But, taking note of thy abhorr'd aspect,
Finding thee fit for bloody villany,
Apt, liable, to be employ'd in danger,
1 faintly broke with thee of Arthur's death;
And thou to be endeared to a king,
Made it no conscience to destroy a prince.
Hub. My lord,—

* Deliberate consideration. + Observed.

O me! my uncle's spirit is in these stonesHeaven take my soul, and England keep my [Dies.

bones!

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Sal. Or, rather then set forward: for 'twill be Two long days' journey, lords, or e'er we meet. Enter the BASTARD.

per'd lords!

Bast. Once more to-day well met, distem[straight. The king, by me, requests your presence Sal. The king hath dispossess'd himself of We will not line his thin bestained cloak [us; With our pure honours, nor attend the foot That leaves the print of blood where-e'er it walks:

Return, and tell him so; we know the worst. Bast. Whate'er you think, good words, I think, were best.

Sal. Our griefs, and not our manners, reason

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object,

Form such another? This is the very top,
The height, the crest, or crest unto the crest,
Of murder's arms: this is the bloodiest shame,
The wildest savag'ry, the vilest stroke,
That ever wall-ey'd wrath, or staring rage,
Presented to the tears of soft remorse.t

Pem. All murders past do stand excus'd in
And this, so sole, and so unmatchable, [this:
Shall give a holiness, a purity,
To the yet-unbegotten sin of time;
And prove a deadly bloodshed but a jest,
Exampled by this heinous spectacle."

Bast. It is a damned and a bloody work; The graceless action of a heavy hand, If that it be the work of any hand.

Sal. If that it be the work of any hand?We had a kind of light, what would ensue : It is the shameful work of Hubert's hand; The practice, and the purpose, of the king:From whose obedience I forbid my soul, Kneeling before this ruin of sweet life, And breathing to his breathless excellence The incense of a vow, a holy vow; Never to taste the pleasures of the world, Never to be infected with delight, Nor conversant with ease and idleness, Till I have set a glory to this hand,‡ By giving it the worship of revenge.

Pem. Big. Our souls religiously confirm thy words.

Enter HUBERT.

Hub. Lords, I'am hot with haste in seeking

you:

Arthur doth live; the king hath sent for you. + Pity.

* Out of humour. 1 Hand should be head; a glory is the circle of rays which surrounds the heads of saints in pictures,

Sal. O, he is bold, and blushes not at death:

Avaunt, thou hateful villain, get thee gone!
Hub. I am no villain.
Sal. Must I rob the law?

[Drawing his sword. Bast. Your sword is bright, Sir; put it up

again.

I say;

Sal. Not till I sheath it in a murderer's skin. Hub. Stand back, lord Salisbury, stand back, [yours: By heaven, I think, my sword's as sharp as I would not have you, lord, forget yourself, Nor tempt the danger of my true defence; Lest I, by marking of your rage, forget Your worth, your greatness, and nobility., Big. Out, dunghill! dar'st thou brave a nobleman?

Hub. Not for my life: but yet I dare defend My innocent life against an emperor. Sal. Thou art a murderer.

Hub. Do not prove me so ;+

[false,

Yet, I am none: Whose tongue soe'er speaks Not truly speaks; who speaks not truly, lies. Pem. Cut him to pieces.

Bast. Keep the peace, I say.

Sal. Stand by, or I shall gall you, Faulconbridge.

Bast. Thou wert better gall the devil, Salisbury:

If thou but frown on me, or stir thy foot,
Or teach thy hasty spleen to do me shame,
I'll strike thee dead. Put up thy sword be-
time;

Or I'll so maul you and your toasting-iron,'
That you shall think the devil is come from hell.
Big. What wilt thou do, renowned Faulcon-
Second a villain, and a murderer?
Hub. Lord Bigot, I am none.
Big. Who kill'd this prince?

[bridge?

Hub. "Tis not an hour since I left him well: I honour'd him, I lov'd him; and will weep My date of life out, for his sweet life's loss.

Sal. Trust not those cunning waters of his

eyes,

For villany is not without such rheum;
And he, long traded in it, makes it seem
Like rivers of remorses and innocency.
Away, with me, all you whose souls abhor
The uncleanly savours of a slaughter-house,
For I am stifled with this smell of sin.

Big. Away, toward Bury, to the Dauphin there!

Pem. There, tell the king, he may inquire us
out.
[Exeunt LORDS.
Bast. Here's a good world!-Knew you of
this fair work?

Beyond the infinite and boundless reach
Of mercy, if thou didst this deed of death,
Art thou damn'd, Hubert.

Hub. Do but hear me, Sir.
Bast. Ha! I'll tell thee what;

Thou art damn'd as black-nay, nothing is so

black;

[cifer: Thou art more deep damn'd than prince LuThere is not yet so ugly a fiend of hell As thou shalt be, if thou didst kill this child. Hub. Upon my soul,

Bast. If thou didst but consent To this most cruel act, do but despair, And, if thou want'st a cord, the smallest thread That ever spider twisted from her womb Will serve to strangle thee; a rush will be A beam to hang thee on; or would'st thou drown thyself,

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