And chase the native beauty from his cheek,
And he will look as hollow as a ghost,
As dim and meagre as an ague's fit,

And so he'll die; and, rising so again,

When I shall meet him in the court of heaven
I shall not know him: therefore never, never
Must I behold my pretty Arthur more.

Pand. You hold too heinous a respect of grief.
Const. He talks to me, that never had a son.
K. Phi. You are as fond of grief, as of your child.
Const. Grief fills the room up of my absent child,
Lies in his bed, walks up and down with me;
Puts on his pretty looks, repeats his words,
Remembers me of all his gracious parts,
Stuffs out his vacant garments with his form:
Then, have I reason to be fond of grief.

Fare
you well: had you such a loss as I,
I could give better comfort than you do.-
I will not keep this form upon my head',
When there is such disorder in my wit.
O lord! my boy, my Arthur, my fair son !
My life, my joy, my food, my all the world,
My widow-comfort, and my sorrow's cure!

[Exit. K. Phi. I fear some outrage, and I'll follow her. [Exit. Lew. There's nothing in this world, can make me joy: Life is as tedious as a twice-told tale,

Vexing the dull ear of a drowsy man;

And bitter shame hath spoil'd the sweet word's taste3, That it yields nought, but shame, and bitterness.

7 I will not keep this form upon my head,] In the modern editions this line is followed by the stage-direction "Tearing off her head-dress," but nothing of the kind is found in the old copies. Constance perhaps wore no headdress, but her hair, as we may gather from the preceding part of the scene, and when she says, "I will not keep this form upon my head," she begins again to disorder her hair, which she had previously knit up at the words "But now, I envy at their liberty," &c.

8

the sweet WORD's taste,] Malone understands "word" here to refer to life, and as such may be the sense: we prefer the old text, although Pope, with much plausibility, altered "word's" to world's.

Pand. Before the curing of a strong disease,
Even in the instant of repair and health,
The fit is strongest evils that take leave,
On their departure most of all show evil.
What have you lost by losing of this day?

Lew. All days of glory, joy, and happiness.
Pand. If you had won it, certainly, you had.
No, no: when fortune means to men most good,
She looks upon them with a threatening eye.
'Tis strange, to think how much king John hath lost
In this which he accounts so clearly won.

Are not you griev'd, that Arthur is his prisoner?
Lew. As heartily, as he is glad he hath him.
Pand. Your mind is all as youthful as your blood.
Now hear me speak with a prophetic spirit;
For even the breath of what I mean to speak
Shall blow each dust, each straw, each little rub,
Out of the path which shall directly lead

Thy foot to England's throne; and therefore mark.
John hath seiz'd Arthur; and it cannot be,
That whiles warm life plays in that infant's veins,
The misplac'd John should entertain an hour,
One minute, nay, one quiet breath of rest.
A sceptre, snatch'd with an unruly hand,
Must be as boisterously maintain'd as gain'd;
And he, that stands upon a slippery place,
Makes nice of no vile hold to stay him up:
That John may stand, then Arthur needs must fall;
So be it, for it cannot be but so.

Lew. But what shall I gain by young Arthur's fall? Pand. You, in the right of lady Blanch your wife, May then make all the claim that Arthur did.

Lew. And lose it, life and all, as Arthur did.

Pand. How green you are, and fresh in this old

world!

John lays you plots; the times conspire with you,
For he that steeps his safety in true blood

Shall find but bloody safety, and untrue.
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 scope 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, presages, and tongues of heaven,
Plainly denouncing vengeance upon John.

Lew. May be, he will not touch young Arthur'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 Faulconbridge
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,

This act, so evilly BORN,] It may be doubted whether we ought to understand "so evilly borne," as it is printed in the old copies, in the sense of having an evil birth, or merely as ill borne by John's subjects. The last is consistent with what is said afterwards, but seems to afford a poorer sense. A few lines afterwards the old copies have, "No scope of nature," usually, but perhaps injuriously printed scape by the modern editors.

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 strange actions. Let us

go:

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

[Exeunt.

ACT IV. SCENE I.

Northampton'. A Room in the Castle.

Enter HUBERT and two Attendants.

Hub. 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. 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.

10 Strong reasons make STRANGE actions :] So the first folio: the second substitutes strong for "strange," but certainly without any improvement, and perhaps, it was merely an error of the press.

1

Northampton.] Such has been the usual locality assigned to this scene, but on no authority, though it will answer the purpose as well as any other. "The fact is,” says Malone, "that Arthur was first confined at Falaise, and afterwards at Rouen, where he was put to death." The old stage-direction is merely, "Enter Hubert and Executioners," and all that is clear seems to be, that in Shakespeare, as well as in the old "King John," the scene is transferred to England.

2 Fast to the chair:] In the old "King John," we read at this point, "When you shall hear me (says Hubert) cry God save the king,' issue suddenly forth, lay hands on Arthur, set him in a chair, wherein once fast-bound, leave him to me to finish the rest."

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.

Mercy on me!

Arth.
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.

Hub. [Aside.] If I talk to him, with his innocent

prate

He will awake my mercy, which lies dead:

Therefore I will be sudden, and dispatch.

Arth. 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.

Hub. [Aside.] His words do take possession of my

bosom.

Read here, young Arthur. [Showing a paper.]

[Aside.] How now, foolish rheum!

Turning dispiteous torture out of door?
I must be brief; lest resolution drop

" in other

3 I SHOULD be as merry-] Malone reads, "I would be as merry: places he has confounded shall and will, as well as should and would. "Should" is as proper in this line, as "would" in the line which immediately follows.