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
pomp,
To guard a title that was rich before,
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 garnish,
Is wasteful and ridiculous excess.
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 He tells us, Arthur is deceas'd to night. 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:
And, oftentimes, excusing of a fault,
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.
Sul. To this effect, before you were new
crown'd,
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.
Sal. Indeed we fear'd his sickness was past
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?
Sal. 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.
That blood, which ow'd the breath of all this
isle,
K. John. Some reasons of this double coro-Three foot of it doth hold; Bad world the
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 sound 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
The steps of wrong,) should move you to mew
This must not be thus borne: this will break
To all our sorrows, and ere long, I doubt.
[Ereunt LORDS. K. John. They burn in indignation; I repent;
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 power
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.
K. John. Oh! where hath our intelligence
been drunk?
Where hath it slept? Where is my mother's
care?
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
Three days before: but this from rumour's
tongue
I idly heard; if true or false, I know not.
K. John. Withhold thy speed, dreadful oc-
casion!
To your direction.-Hubert, what news with Oh! make a league with me, till I have
My discontented peers!-What! mother, dead?
How wildly then walks my estate in France -
Under whose conduct came those powers of Whilst he that bears, makes fearful action,
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
Under the tide but now I breathe again [amaz'd
Aloft the flood; and can give audience
To any tongue, speak it of what it will.
[men, Bast. How I have sped among the clergy. 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 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
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 kinsmen, 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,
When adverse foreigners affright my towns
With dreadful pomp of stout invasion !-
Be Mercury, set feathers to thy heels;
And fly, like thought, from them to me again.
Bast. The spirit of the time shall teach me
speed.
[Exit.
K. John. Spoke like a spriteful noble gen-
Go after him; for he, perhaps, shall need Some messenger betwixt me and the peers; And be thou be.
Mess. With all my heart, my liege.
K. John. My mother dead!
With wrinkled brows, with nods, with rolling
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 baste
Had falsely thrust upon contráry feet,)
Told of a many thousand warlike French,
That were emba:teled 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 murdei'd him: I had mighty [him. 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 at
[rant By slaves, that take their humours for a warTo break within the bloody house of life, And, on the winking of authority,
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 by,
A fellow by the hand of nature mark'd,
Quoted, and sign'd, to do a deed of shame,
This murder bad not come into my mind:
But, taking note of thy abhorr'd aspéct,
Finding thee fit for bloody villany,
Apt, liable, to be employ'd in danger,
I 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,-
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
[in me :
And those thy fears might have wrought fears
But thou didst understand me by my sigus,
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
Out of my sight, and never see me more!
Even at my gates, with ranks of foreign powers:
My nobles leave me; and my state is brav'd,
Nay, in the body of this fleshly land,
This kingdom, this confine of blood and breath,
[death.
Hostility and civil tumult reigns
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,
Hub. My lord, they say five moons were Not painted with the crimson spots of blood.
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:
Good ground, be pitiful, and hurt me not !—
There's few, or none, do know me; if they did,
This ship-boy's semblance bath disguis'd me
I am afraid; and yet I'll venture it. [quite.
If I get down, and do not break my limbs,
I'll find a thousand shifts to get away:
As good to die aud go, as die and stay.
[Leaps down. O me! my uncle's spirit is in these stonesHeaven take my soul, and England keep my [Dies.
Enter PEMBROKE, SALISBURY, and BIGOT. Sal. Lords, I will meet him at Saint Edmund's-Bury;
It is our safety and we must embrace
This gentle offer of the perilous time. [dinal?
Pem. Who brought that letter from the car-
Sal. The count Melun, a noble lord of
France;
Whose private with me, of the Dauphin's love,
Is much more general than these lines import,
Big. To-morrow morning let us meet him
then.
Sal. Or, rather then set forward for 'twill be Two long days' journey, lords, or e'er we meet. Enter the BASTARD.
Bast. Once more to-day well met, distemper'd + lords! [straight. 'The king, by me, requests your presence Sal. The king hath dispossess'd himself of us; We will not line his thin bestained cloak 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, think, were best. [now. Sal. Our griefs, and not our manners, reasou Bast. But there is little reason in your grief; Therefore, 'twere reason you had manners
Pem. Sir, Sir, impatience hath his privilege. Bast. 'Tis true; to hurt his master, no man else.
Sal. This is the prison: What is he lies here? [Seeing ARTHUR. Pam. O death, made proud with pure and princely beauty!
The earth had not a hole to hide this deed.
Sal. Murder, as hating what himself hath
Doth lay it open, to urge on revenge. [done,
Big. Or, when he doom'd this beauty to a
grave,
Found it too precious-princely for a grave.
Sal. Sir Richard, what think you? Have you
beheld,
Or have you read, or heard? or could you think?
Or do you almost think, although you see,
That you do see? could thought without this
object,
Form such another? This is the very top,
The height, the crest, or crest unto the crest,
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Of murder's arms: this is the bloodiest shame,
The wildest savaga'ry, the vilest stroke,
That ever wall-ey'd wrath, or staring rage,
Presented to the tears of soft remorse.
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 baud;
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, t
By giving it the worship of revenge.
Pem. Big. Our souls religiously confirm thy
words.
Hub. Lords, I am hot with haste in seeking you:
Arthur doth live; the king hath sent for you. Sal. Oh 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.
Sal. Not till I sheath it in a murderer's skin. Hub. Stand back, lord Salisbury, stand back, I say; [your's: 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.
Sul. Thou art a murderer.
Hub. Do not prove me so; t
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-
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-
bridge?
Second a villain, and a murderer ?
Hub. Lord Bigot, I am none.
Big. Who kill'd this prince?
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 cuuning waters of his
eyes,
For villany is not without such rheum;
And he long traded in it, makes it seem
• Pity. Hand should be head; a glory is the circle of rays which surrounds the heads of saints in pictures. By compelling me to kill you.
Like rivers of remorse, 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;
Thou art more deep damn'd than prince Lucifer :
There 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
drown thyself,
Put but a little water in a spoon,
And it shall be as all the ocean,
Enough to stifle such a villain up.-
I do suspect thee very grievously.
Hub. If I in act, consent, or sin of thought, Be guilty of the stealing that sweet breath Which was embounded in this beauteous clay, Let hell want pains enough to torture me! I left him well.
Bast. Go, bear him in thine arms.-
I am amaz'd, methinks; and lose my way
Among the thorns and dangers of this world.—
How easy dost thou take all England up!
From forth this morsel of dead royalty,
The life, the right, and truth of all this realm
Is fled to heaven; and England now is left
To tug and scramble, and to part by the teeth
The unowed interest of proud-swelling state.
Now, for the bare-pick'd bone of majesty,
Doth dogged war bristle his angry crest,
And snarleth in the gentle eyes of peace :
Now powers from home, and discontents
home,
Meet in one line; and vast confusion waits
(As doth a raven on a sick-fallen beast,)
The imminent decay of wrested pomp.
Now happy he, whose cloak and cincture + can
Hold out this tempest. Bear away that child,
And follow me with speed; I'll to the king:
A thousand businesses are brief in hand,
And heaven itself doth frown upon the land.
Swearing allegiance and the love of soul,
To stranger blood, to foreign royalty.
This inundation of mistemper'd humour
Rests by you only to be qualified.
Then pause not; for the present time's so sick,
That present medicine must be minister'd,
or overthrow incurable ensues.
Pand. It was my breath that blew this tempest up,
Upon your stubborn usage of the pope :
But, since you are a gentle convertite,
My tongue shall hush again this storm of war,
And make fair weather in your blustering land.
On this Ascension-day, remember well,
Upon your oath of service to the pope,
Go I to make the French lay down their arms.
[Exit.
K. John. Is this Ascension-day? Did not the
prophet
Say, that, before Ascension-day at noon,
My crown I should give off? Even so I have:
I did suppose, it should be on constraint;
But, heaven be thank'd it is but voluntary.
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But wherefore do you droop? why look you sad?
Be great in act, as you have been in thought;
Let not the world see fear and sad distrust
Govern the motion of a kingly eye
Be stirring as the time; be fire with fire;
at Threaten the threat'ner, and outface the brow
Of bragging horror: so shall inferior eyes,
That borrow their behaviours from the great,
Grow great by your example, and put on
The dauntless spirit of resolution.
Away; and glister like the god of war,
When he intendeth to become the field:
Show boldness, and aspiring confidence.
What, shall they seek the lion in his den,
And fright him there? and make him tremble
there?
O let it not be said !-Forage, and run
To meet displeasure further from the doors;
And grapple with him, ere he come so nigh.
K. John. The legate of the pope hath been
And I have made a happy peace with him;
with me,
And he hath promis'd to dismiss the powers
Led by the Dauphin.
Bast. O inglorious league!
Send fair-play orders, and make compromise
Shall we, upon the footing of our land,
Insinuation, parley, and base truce,
To arms invasive? shall a beardless boy,
A cocker'd silken wanton brave our fields
And flesh his spirit in a warlike soil,
Mocking the air with colours idly spread,
And find no check? Let us, my liege, to arms:
Perchance, the cardinal cannot make
peace !
Or if he do, let it at least be said
They saw we had a purpose of defence.
• Convert. This man was dragged at horses' tails to the town of Wareham, and there hanged on a gibbet with his son... Hume, Fondled.
K. John. Have thou the ordering of this present time.
Bast. Away then, with good courage; yet I know,
Our party may well meet a prouder foe.
SCENE II-A Plain near St. Edmund's-
Bury.
Enter, in arms, LEWIS, SALISBURY, MELUN,
PEMBROKE, BIGOT, and Soldiers.
Lew. My lord Melun, let this be copied out,
And keep it safe for our remembrance :
Return the precedent to these lords again;
That, having our fair order written down,
Both they and we, perusing o'er these notes,
May know wherefore we took the sacrament,
And keep our faiths firm and inviolable.
Sal. Upon our sides it never shall be broken.
And, noble Dauphin, albeit we swear
A voluntary zeal, and unurg'd faith,
To your proceedings; yet, believe me, prince,
I am not glad that such a sore of time
Should seek a plaster by contemn'd revolt,
And heal the inveterate canker of one wound,
By making many: Oh! it grieves my soul,
That I must draw this metal from my side
To be a widow-maker; Oh! and there,
Where honourable rescue and defence,
Cries out upon the name of Salisbury:
But such is the infection of the time,
That, for the health and physic of our right,
We cannot deal but with the very hand
Of stern injustice and confused wrong.-
And is't not pity, O my grieved friends!
That we, the sons and children of this isle,
Were born to see so sad an hour as this;
Wherein we step after a stranger march
Upon her gentle bosom, and fill up
Her enemies' ranks, (I must withdraw
Upon the spot of this enforced cause,)
To grace the gentry of a land remote,
And follow unacquainted colours here?
What, here ?-O nation, that thou coulds't
To give us warrant from the hand of heaven
And on our actions set the name of right,
With holy breath.
Pand. Hail, noble prince of France!
The next is this,-king John hath reconcil'd
Himself to Rome; his spirit is come in,
That so stood out against the holy church,
The great metropolis and see of Rome :
Therefore thy threat'ning colours now wind up,
And tame the savage spirit of wild war;
That, like a lion foster'd up at hand,
It may lie gently at the foot of peace,
And be no further harmful than in show.
Lew. Your grace shall pardon me, I will not
I am too high-born to be propertied,⚫
To be a secondary at control,
Or useful serving-man, and instrument,
To any sovereign state throughout the world.
Your breath first kindled the dead coal of wars,
Between this chástis'd kingdom and myself,
And brought in matter that should should feed
this fire;
And now 'tis far too huge to be blown out
With that same weak wind which enkindled it.
You taught me how to know the face of right,
Acquainted me with interest to this land,
Yea, thrust this enterprize into my heart;
And come you now to tell me, John hath made
His peace with Rome? What is that peace to
1, by the honour of my marriage-bed,
After young Arthur, claim this land for mine ;
And, now it is half-conquer'd, must I back,
Because that John hath made his peace with
Rome ?
Am I Rome's slave? What penny hath Rome
borne,
What men provided, what munition sent,
To underprop this action? is't not I,
That undergo this charge? who else but I,
And such as to my claim are liable,
Sweat in this business, and maintain this war ?
Have I not heard these islanders shout out,
re-Vive le roy! as I have bank'd their towns?
Have I not here the best cards for the game,
To win this easy match play'd for a crown?
And shall I now give o'er the yielded set?
No, on my soul, it never shall be said.
Pand. You look but on the outside of this
work.
That Neptune's arms, who clippeth thee about, Would bear thee from the knowledge of thyself,
And grapple thee unto a pagan shore;
Where these two Christian armies might com-
The blood of malice in a vein of league,
And not to spend it so unneighbourly!
Lew. A noble temper dost thou show in this;
And great affections, wrestling in thy bosom,
Do make an earthquake of nobility.
Oh! what a noble combat hast thou fought,
Between compulsion, and a brave respect!
Let me wipe off this honourable dew,
That silverly doth progress on thy cheeks:
My heart hath melted at a lady's tears,
Being an ordinary inundation!
But this effusion of such manly drops,
This shower, blown up by tempest of the soul,
Startles mine eyes, and makes me more amaz'd
Than I had seen the vaulty top of heaven
Figur'd quite o'er with burning meteors.
Lift up thy brow, renowned Salisbury,
And with a great heart heave away this storm.
Commend these waters to those baby eyes,
That never saw the giant world enrag'd;
Nor met with fortune other than at feasts,
Full warm of blood, of mirth, of gossiping.
Lew. Outside or inside, I will not return Till my attempt so much be glorified Before I drew this gallant head of war, As to my ample hope was promised And cull'd these fiery spirits from the world, To outlook conquest, and to win renown Even in the jaws of danger and of death.[Trumpet sounds. What lusty trumpet thus doth summon us? Enter the BASTARD attended. Bast. According to the fair play of the world,
Let me have audience; I am sent to speak :-
My holy lord of Milan, from the king
I come, to learn how you have dealt for him;
And, as you answer, I do know the scope
And warrant limited unto my tongue.
Pand. The Dauphin is too wilful-opposite,
And will not temporize with my entreaties;
He flatly says, he'll not lay down his arms.
Bast. By all the blood that ever fury breath'd,
Come, come! for thou shalt thrust thy hand as The youth says well:-Now hear our English
Into the purse of rich prosperity,
As Lewis himself :-so, nobles, shall you all,"
That knit your sinews to the strength of mine.
Enter PANDULPH, attended.
And even there, methinks, an angel spake:
Look, where the holy legate comes apace,
For thus his royalty doth speak in me.
He is prepar'd; and reason too, he should:
This apish and unmannerly approach,
This harness'd masque, aud unadvised revel,
This unhair'd sauciness, and boyish troops,
The king doth smile at; and is well prepar'd
To whip this dwarfish war, these pigmy arins,
From out the circle of his territories.
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