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To me, and to the state of my great grief,

Bast. And hang a calf's-skin on those recreant limbs. Let king's assemble ; for my grief's so great,

K. John. We like not this ; thou dost forget thyself. That no supporter but the huge firm earth

Enter Pandulph. Can hold it up: here I and sorrow sit;

K. Phil. Here comes the holy legate of the pope. Here is my throne, bid kings come bow to it.

Pand. Hail, you aointed deputies of heaven!(She throws herself on the ground.

To thee, king John, my holy errand is. Enter King John, King Philip, Lewis, Blanch, Elinor, || 1 Pandulph, of fair Milan cardinal, Bastard, Austria, and Attendants.

And from pope Innocent the legate here,

Do, in his name, religiously demand, K. Phil. "Tis true, fair daughter; and this blessed

Why thou against the church, our holy mother, day,

So wilfully dost spurn; and, force perforce, Ever in France shall be kept festival:

Keep Stephen Langton, chosen archbishop To solemnize this day, the glorious sun

of Canterbury, from that holy see? Stays in his course, and plays the alchemist;

This, in our 'foresaid holy father's name, Tuming, with splendor of his precious eye,

Pope Innocent, I do demand of thee. The neagre cloddy earth to glittering gold:

K. John. What earthly name to interrogatories, The yearly course, that brings this day about, Can task the free breath of a sacred king ? Shall never see it but a holyday.

Thou canst not, cardinal, devise a name Const. A wicked day, and not a holyday! (Rising. So slight, unworthy, and ridiculous, -What hath this day deserv'd ? what bath it done; To charge me to an answer, as the pope. That it in golden letters should be set,

Tell him this tale ; and from the mouth of England, Among the high tides in the kalendar?

Add thus much more - That no Italian priest Nay, rather, turn this day out of the week;

Sball tithe or toll in our dominions ; This day of shame, oppression, perjury :

But as we under heaven are supreme head,
Or, if it must stand still, let wives with child

So, under him, that great supremacy,
Pray, that their burdens may not fall this day, Where we do reign, we will alone uphold,
Lest that their hopes prodigiously be cross'd : Without the assistance of a mortal hand :
But on this day, let seamen fear no wreck;

So tell the pope; all reverence set apart,
No bargains break, that are not this day made ; To him, and his usurp'd authority.
This day, all things begun come to ill end;

K. Phil. Brother of England, you blaspheme in this. Yen, faith itself to hollow falsehood change!

K. John. Tho' you, and all the kings of Christendom, K. Phil. By heaven, lady, you shall have no cause Are led so grossly by this meddling priest, To curse the fair proceedings of this day:

Dreading the curse that money may buy out ; Have I not pawnd to you my majesty ?

And, by the merit of vile gold, dross, dust, Const. You have beguild me with a counterfeit, Purchase corrupted pardon of a man, Rexembling majesty; which, being touch'd, and tried, || Who, in that sale, sells pardon from himself: Proves valueless : You are forsworn, forsworn ; Though you, and all the rest, so grossly led, You came in arms to spill mine enemies' blood, This juggling witchcraft with revenue cherish; But now in arms, you strengthen it with yours : Yet I, alone, alone do me oppose The grappling vigour and rough frown of war, Against the pope, and count his friends my foes. Is eold in amity and painted peace,

Pand. Then, by the lawful power that I have, And our oppression hath made up this league:- Thou shalt stand curs’d, and excommunicate : Arm, arm, you heavens, against these perjurd kings! And blessed shall he be, that doth revolt A widow cries; be husband to me, heavens !

From his allegiance to an heretic ; le not the hours of this ungodly day

And meritorious shall that hand be calla, Wear out the day in peace; but, ere sunset,

Canonized, and worship'd as a saint,
Set armed discord 'twixt these perjur'd kings! That takes away by any secret course
Hear me, 0, hear me!

Thy hateful life.
Aust.
Lady Constance, peace.

Cogst. O, lawful let it be,
Const. War! war! no peace! peace is to me a war. That I have room with Rome to curse a while !
O Lymoges ! O Austria ! thou dost shame

Good father cardinal, cry thou, amen, That bloody spoil: Thou slave, thou wretch, thou To my keen curses; for, without my wrong, coward:

There is no tongue hath power to curse him right. Thoa little valiant, great in villany!

Pand. There's law and warrant, lady, for my curse. Theu ever strong upon the stronger side !

Const. And for mine too ; when law can do no right, Thor fortune's champion, that dost never fight Let it be lawful, that law bar no wrong: But when her humourous ladyship is by

Law cannot give my child his kingdom here;
To teach thee safety! thou art perjurid too,

For he, that holds his kingdom, holds the law:
And sooth'st up greatness. What a fool art thou, Therefore, since law itself is perfect wrong,
A ramping fool; to brag, and stamp, and swear, How can the law forbid my tongue to curse?
Upon my party! Thou cold-blooded slave,

Pand. Philip of France, on peril of a curse,
Hast thou not spoke like thunder on my side ? Let go the hand of that arch-heretic;
Been sword my soldier ? bidding me depend

And raise the power of France upon his head,
Upon thy stars, thy fortune, and thy strength ? Unless he do submit himself to Roine..
And dost thou now fall over to my foes?

Eli. Look'st thou pale, 'France? do not let go thy Thou wear a lion's hide! doff it for shame,

hand. And hang a calf's-skin on those recreant limbs. Const. Look to that, devil! lest that France repent, Aust. O, that a man should speak those words to me! || And, by disjoining bands, hell lose a soul. Baxt. And hang a calf's-skin on those recreant limbs. Aust. King Philip, listen to the cardinal. -Just. Thou dar’st not say so, villain, for thy life. Bast. And hang a calf's-skin on his recreant limbs.

Arest. Well, rustian, I must pocket up these wrongs, Pand. So mak'st thou faith an enemy to faitha;
Because

And, like a civil war, set'st oath to oath,
Bast. Your breeches best may carry them. Thy tongue against thy tongue. O, let thy vow
K. John, Philip, what say'st thou to the cardinal? First made to heaven, first be to heaven perform'd:
Const. What should he say, but as the cardinal? That is, to be the champion of our chureh !

Lew. Bethink you, father ; for the difference What'since thou sworist, is sworn against thysell, Is, purchase of a heavy curse from Rome,

And may not be performed by thyself: Or the light loss of England for a friend :

For that, which thou hast sworn to do amiss, Forgo the easier.

Is not amiss when it is truly done ;
Blanch. That's the curse of Rome.

And being not done, where doing tends to ill,
Const. O Lewis, stand fast; the devil tempts thee The truth is then most done not doing it:
In likeness of a new untrimmed bride. [here, || The better act of purposes mistook
Blanch. The lady Constance speaks not from her Is, to mistake again; though indirect,
faith,

Yet indirection thereby grows direct,
But from her need.

And falsehood falsehood cures ; as fire eools fire,
Const.
O, if thou grant my need,

Within the scorched veins of one new burn'd.
Which only lives but by the death of faith,

It is religion, that doth make vows kept;
That need must needs infer this principle, - But thou hast sworn against religion;
That faith would live again by death of need; By what thou swear'st, against the thing thou swear'st;
0, then, tread down my need, and faith mounts up; And mak'st an oath the surety for thy truth
Keep my need up, and faith is trodden down. Against an oath : 'The truth thou art unsure

K. John. The king is moved, and answers not to this. To swear, swear only not to be forsworn ;
Const. O, be remov'd from him, and answer well. Else, what a mockery should it be to swear?
Aust. Do so, king Philip; hang no more in doubt. But thou dost swear only to be forsworn;
Bast. Hang nothing but a calf's-skin, most sweet And most forsworn, to keep what thou dost swear.
lout,

Therefore, thy latter vows, against thy first,
K. Phil. I am perplex'd, and know not what to say. Is in thyself rebellion to thyself:
Pand. What can’st thou say, but will perplex thee And better conquest never canst thou make,
more,

Than arm thy constant and thy nobler parts
If thou stand excommunicate, and cura?

Against those giddy loose suggestions :
K. Phil. Good reverend father, make my person || Upon which better part our prayers come in,
yours,

If thou vouchsafe them : but, if not, then know,
And tell me, how you would bestow yourself. The peril of our curses light on thee;
This royal hand and mine are newly knit;

So heavy, as thou shalt not shake them off,
And the conjunction of our inward souls

But, in despair, die under their black weight. Married in league, coupled and link'd together

Aust. Rebellion, flat rebellion! With all religious strength of sacred vows ;

Bast.

Will't not be The latest breath that gave the sound of words,

Will not a calf's-skin stop that mouth of thine Was deep-sworn faith, peace, amity, true love,

Lew. Father, to arms ! Between our kingdoms, and our royal selves;

Blanch.

Upon thy wedding day? And even before this truçe, but new before,

Against the blood that thou hast married? No longer than we well could wash our hands, What, shall our feast be kept with slaughter'd men? To clap this royal bargnin up of peace,

Shall braying trumpets, and loud churlish drumsHeaven knows, they were besnicar'd and overstaind Clamours of hell,-be measures to our pomp? With slaughter's pencil; where revenge did paiut O husband, hear me !-ah, alack, how new The fearful difference of incensed kings:

Is husband in my mouth!-even for that name, And shall these hands, so lately purg'd of blood, Which till this time my tongue did ne'er pronounce, So newly join'd in love, so strong in both,

Upon my knee I beg, go not to arms Unyoke this seizure, and this kind regreet?

Against mine uncle. Play fast and loose with faith ? so jest with heaven, Const.

O, upon my knee,
Make such unconstant children of ourselves,

Made hard with kneeling, I do pray to thee,
As now again to snatch our palm from palm; Thou virtuous dauphin, alter not the doom
Unswear faith sworn; and on the marriage bed Fore-thought by heaven.
Of smiling peace to march a bloody host,

Blanch. Now shall I see thy love; What motive may And make a riot on the gentle brow

Be stronger with thee than the name of wife? Of true sincerity? O holy sir,

Const. That which upholdeth him that thee upholds, My reverend father, let it not be so:

His bonour: 0, thine honour, Lewis, thine honour. Out of your grace, devise, ordain, impose

Lew. I muse, your majesty doth seem so cold, Some gentle order ; and then we shall be bless'd When such profound respects do pull you on. To do your pleasure, and continue friends.

Pand. I will denounce a curse upon his head. Pand. All form is formless, order orderless,

K. Phil. Thou shalt not need :-England, I'll fall Save what is opposite to England's love.

from thee.
Therefore, to arms! be champion of our church! Const. O fair return of banish'd majesty!
Or let the church, our mother, breathe her curse, Eli. O foul revolt of French inconstaney!
A mother's curse, on her revolting son.

K. John. France, thou shalt rue this lour within France, thou may'st hold a serpent by the tongue,

this hour. A cased lion by the mortal paw,

Bast. Old time the clock-setter, that bald sexton time, A fasting ciger safer by the tooth,

Is it as he will? well then, France shall rue. Than keep in peace that hand which thou dost hold. Blanch. The sun's o'ereast with blood : Fair day, K. Phil. I inay disjoin my hand, but not iny faith. aulieu !

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shalt turn

Which is the side that I must go withal?

There is a soul, counts thee her creditor, I am with both: each army hath a hand ;

And with advantage means to pay thy love: And, in their rage, I having hold of both, ,

And, my good friend, thy voluntary oath They whirl asunder, and dismember me.

Lives in this bosom, dearly cherished. Husband, I cannot pray that thou may’st win; Give me thy hand. I had a thing to say,Unele, I needs must pray that thou may'st lose; But I will fit it with some better time. Father, I may not wish the fortune thine ;

By heaven, Hubert, I am almost asham'd Grandam, I will not wish thy wishes thrive:

To say what good respect I have of thee. Whoever wins, on that side shall I lose;

Hub. I am much bounden to your majesty. Assured loss, before the match be play'd.

K. John. Good friend, thou hast no cause to say Lew. Lady, with me; with me thy fortune lies.

yet: Blanch. There where my fortune lives, there my But thou shalt have; and creep time ne'er so slow, bife dies.

Yet it shall come, for me to do thee good, K.John. Cousin, go draw our puissance together.- I had a thing to say, -But let it go :

[E.rit Bastard. The sun is in the heaven, and the proud day, France, I am burn'd up with inflaming wrath; Attended with the pleasures of the world, A rage, whose heat hath this condition,

Is all too wanton, and too full of gawds, That nothing can allay, nothing but blood,

To give me audience : -If the midnight bell The blood, and dearest-valu'd blood, of France. Did, with his iron tongue and brazen mouth, K. Phil. Thy rage shall burn thee up, and thou Sound one unto the drowsy race of night ;

If this same were a church-yard where we stand, To ashes, ere our blood shall quench that fire: And thou possessed with a thousand wrongs; Lack to thyself, thou art in jeopardy.

Or if that surly spirit, melancholy, K.John. No more than he that threats.-To arms Had bak'd thy blood, and made it heavy, thick ; let's hie!

[Exeunt. || (Which, else, runs tickling up and down the veins,

Making that idiot, laughter, keep men's eyes, SCENE 11.-The same. Plains near Angiers. A

And strain their cheeks to idle merriment, larums, Excursions. Enter the Bastard, with Aus

A passion hateful to my purposes ;) tria's Hlaad.

Or if that thou could'st see me without eyes, Bast. Now, by my life, this day grows wondrous hot ; Hear me without thine ears, and make reply Same airy devil hovers in the sky,

Without a tongue, using conceit alone, And pours down mischief. Austria's head lie there; Without eyes, ears, and harmful sound of words; While Philip breathes.

Then, in despite of brooded watchful day, Enter King John, Arthur, and Hubert. I would into thy bosom pour my thoughts: K.John. Hubert, keep this boy ;-Philip, make up: But ah, I will not :-Yet I love thee well; My mother is assailed in our tent,

And, by my troth, I think, thou lov'st me well. And ta'en, I fear.

Hub. So well, that what you bid me undertake, My lord, I rescu'd her;

Though that my death were adjunct to my act, Her highness is in safety, fear you not :

By heaven, I'd do't. Bet on, my liege; for very little pains

K. John. Do not I know, thou would'st? Will bring this labour to an happy end. [Exeunt. Good Hubert, Hubert, Hubert, throw thine eye

On yon young boy : I'll tell thee what, my friend, SCENE III.-The san Alarins; Excursions ;

He is a very serpent in my way; Retreat. Enter King John, Elinor, Arthur, the Bas- And, wheresoe'er this foot of mine doth tread, tard, Hubert, and Lords.

He lies before me: Dost thou understand me? K.John. So shall it be ; your grace shall stay beo

Thou art his keeper. hind, [To Elinor. Hub.

And I will keep him so, So strongly guarded.-Cousin, look not sad :

That he shall not offend your majesty.

[To Arthur. K. John. Death. Thy grandam loves thee; and thy uncle will

Hub. As dear be to thee as thy father was.

K. John. Arih. O, this will make my mother die with grief. Hub.

He shall not live. K.John. Cousin, [To the Bastard.] away for Eng. K. Jonn.

Enough land; haste before :

I could be merry now: Hubert, I love thee;
And, ere our coming, see thou shake the bags Well, I'll not say what I intend for thee:
Of hoarding abbots; angels imprisoned

Remember-Madam, fare you well :
Set thou at liberty: the fat ribs of peace

I'll send those powers o'er to your majesty. Nust by the hungry now be fed upon :

Eli. My blessing go with thee! Use our commission in his utmost force.

K.John.

For England, cousin : Bax. Bell, book, and candle shall not drive me back, Hubert shall be your man, attend on you When gold and silver becks me to come on.

With all true duty.-On toward Calais, ho! [Exeunt. I leave your highness :-Grandam, I will pray (If ever I renember to be holy)

SCENE IV.-The same. The French King's Tent. For your fair safety; so I kiss your hand.

Enter King Philip, Lewis, Panduiph, and AttendEli. Farewell, my gentle cousin.

ants. Coz, farewell. (Ezit Bas. K. Phil. So, by a roaring tempest on the flood, Eli. Come hither, little kinsman; hark, a worl. A whole armado of convicted sail

[She takes Arthur aside. Is scatter'd and disjoin'd from fellowship. K.John. Come hither, Hubert. Omy gentle Hubert, Pand. Courage and comfort! all shall yet go well. We ove thee much; within this wall of flesh

K. Phil. What can go well, when we liave run so ill ?

Bast.

.

My lord ?

A grave.

X. John.

Are we not beaten? Is not Angiers lost?
Arthur ta'en prisoner? divers dear friends slain?
And bloody England into England gone,
O'erbearing interruprion, spite of France ?

Lew. What he hath won, that hath he fortified:
So hot a speed with such advice disposil,
Such temperate order in so fierce a cause',
Doth want example: Who bath read, or heard,
of any kindred action like to this?
K. Phil. Well could I bear that England had this

praise, So we could find some patter of our shame.

Enter Constance. Look, who comes here! a grave unto a soul; Holding the eternal spirit, against her will, In the vile prison of allicted breath :I prythee, lady, go away with me. Cons!. Lo, now! now see the issue of your peace! K. Phil. Patience, good lady! comfort, gentle Con

stance ! Const. No, I defy all counsel, all redress, But that which ends all counsel, true redress, Death, death :-( amiable lovely death! Thou odoriferous stench! sound rottenness! Arise forth from the couch of lasting night, Thou hate and terror to prosperity, And I will kiss thy detestable bones ; And put my eye-balls in thy vaulty brows; And ring these fingers with thy household worms; And stop this gap of breath with fulsome dust, And be a carrion monster like thyself: Com', grin on me; and I will think thou smil'st, And buss thte as thy wife! Misery's love, 0, come to me!

K. Phil. o mir affliction, peace!

Const. No, no, I will not, having breath to cry :0. that my tongue were in the thunder's month! Then with a passion would I shake the world; And rouse from sleep that fell anatomy, Which cannot hear a lady's feeble voice, Which scorns a modern invocation.

Pond. Lady, Fou utter madness, and not sorrow.

Const. Thou art not holy to belie me so ;
I am not mad: this hair I tear, is mine;
My name is Constance ; I was Geffrey's wife
Young Arthur is my son, and he is lost :
I ain not mad ;--I would to heaven, I were!
For then, 'tis like I should forget myself:
0, if I could, what grief should I forget!-
Preach some philosophy to make me mad,
And thou shalt be canoniz'd, cardinal;
For, bring not mad, but sensible of grief,
My reasonable part produces reason
How I may be deliver'd of these woes,
And teaches me to kill or hang myself:
If I were mad, I should forget my son ;
Or madly think, a babe of clouts were he :
I am not mail; too well, too well I feel
The different plague of each calamity.

K. Phil. Bind up those tresses : 0, what love I note
In the fair multitude of those her hairs !
Where but by chance a silver drop hath fallen,
Even to that drop ten thousand wiry friends
Do glew themselves in sociable grief;
Like true, inseparable, faithful loves,
Sticking (ogether in calamity.

Const. To England if you will.
K. Phil.

Dind up your hairs. Cans'. Yes, that I will; And wherefore will I do it? I lore them from their bouils; and cried aloud,

O that these hands could so redeem my son,
As they have given these hairs their liberty !
But now I envy at their libcrty,
And will again commit them to their bonds,
Because my poor child is a prisoner.
And, father cardinal, I have heard you say,
That we shall see and know our friends in heaven:
If that be true, I shall see my boy again ;
For, since the birth of Cain, the first male child,
To bim that did but yesterday suspire,
There was not such a gracious creature born.
But now will canker sorrow eat my bud,
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. Phil. You are as fond of grief, as of your child.

Const. Griet' 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,

[Tearing off her head-dress. When there is such djsorder in my wit. O lord! my boy, my Arthur, iny fair son ! My life, my joy, my food, my all the world! My widow-comfort, and my sorrows' cure ! [Exit. K. Phil. I fear some outrage, and I'll follow ber.

[Exil. Leur. 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 bath spoil'd the sweet world's taste;
That it yields naught, but shame, and bitterness.

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 lose by losing of this day?

Lew. All days of glory, joy, and happiness.

Pand. If you have 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 Jotun hath lost In this which he accounts so clearly won: Are not you griev'd, that Arthur is his prisoner?

Letr. 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, cach little rub, Out of the path which shall directly lead Thy foot to England's throne ; and, thereforc, mask. 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 boisteronsly maintain'd as gain'd: And he, that stands upon a slippery place,

Makes nite of no vile hold to stay him up:

Hub. Indeed, I have been merrier. That John may stand, then Arthur needs must fall; Arth.

Mercy on me! So be it, for it cannot be but so.

Methinks, no body should be sad but I:
Lex. But what shall I gain by young Arthur's fall? || Yet, I remember, when I was in France,

Pand. You, in the right of lady Blanch your wife, Young gentlemen would be as sad as night,
May then make all the claim that Arthur did. Only for wantonness. By my christendom,

Lee. And lose it, life and all, as Arthur did. So I were out of prison, and kept sheep,
Panda How green are you, and fresh in this old I should be as merry as the day is long;
world!

And so I would be here, but that I doubt
John lays you plots; the times conspire with you : My uncle practises more barm to me:
Por be, that steeps his safety in true blood,

He is afraid of me, and I of him:
Shall find but bloody safety, and untrue.

Is it my fault that I was Geffrey's son? This act, so evilly born, shall cool the hearts

No, indeed, is't not; And I would to heaven, Of all bis people, and freeze up their zeal ;

I were your son, so you would love me, Hubert. That none so small advantage shall step forth, Hub. If I talk to him, with his innocent prate To check his reign, but they will cherish it:

He will awake my mercy, wbich lies dead : No natural exhalation in the sky,

Therefore I will be sudden, and despatch. [Aside. No seape of nature, no distemper'd day,

Arth. Are you sick, Hubert? you look pale to-day: No common wind, no customed event,

In sooth, I would you were a little siek; But they will pluek away his natural cause,

That I might sit all night, and watch with you : And call them meteors, prodigies, and signs,

I warrant, I love you more than you do me. Abartives, presages, and tongues of heaven,

Hub. His words do take possession of my bosom.Plainly denouncing vengeance upon John.

Read here, young. Arthur. [Showing a paper.] How Lew. May be, he will not touch young Arthur's life,

now, foolish rheum!

[ Aside. Bas hold himself safe in his prisonment.

Turning dispiteous torture out of door! Pand. O, sir, when he shall hear of your approach,

I must be brief; lest resolution drop If that young Arthur be not gone already,

Out át mine eyes, in tender womanish tears.Even at that news he dies : and then the hearts

Can you not read it? is it not fair writ? Of all his people shall revolt from him,

Arth. Too fairly, Hubert, for so foul effect: And kiss the lips of unacquainted change;

Must you with hot irons burn out both mine eyes? And pick strong matter of revolt, and wrath,

Hub. Young boy, I must. Out of the bloody fingers' ends of John.

Arth.

And will you? Methinks, I see this hurly all on foot ;

Hub.

And I will. And, 0, what better matter breeds for you,

Arth. Have you the heart? When your head did but Than I have mam'd!—The bastard Faulconbridge

ache, Is now in England, ransacking the church,

I knit my handkerchief about your brows, Ofending charity : If but a dozen French

(The best I had, a princess wrought it me.) Were there in arms, they would be as a call

And I did never ask it you again : To train ten thousand English to their side ;

And with my hand at midnight held your head ; 0s, as a little snow, tumbled about,

And, like the watchful minutes to the hour, Apon becomes a mountain. O noble dauphin, Still and anón cheerd up the heavy time; Go with me to the king : 'Tis wonderful,

Saying, What lack you ? and, Where lies your grief? What may be wrought out of their discontent:

Or, What good love may I perform for you? Now that their souls are topful of offence,

Many a poor man's son would have lain still, For England go; I will wbet on the king.

And ne'er have spoke a loving word to you; Lev. Strong reasons make strong actions: Let us

But you at your sick service had a prince.

Nay, you may think, my love was crafty love, If you say, ay, the king will not say, no. [Exeunt. | 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? ACT IV,

These eyes, that never did, nor never shall,

So much as frown on you! SCENE 1.- Northampton. A Room in the Castle.

Hub.

I have sworn to do it;
Enter Hubert and two Attendants.

And with hot irons must I burn them out.
Hubert.

Arth. Ah, none, but in this iron age would do it!
HEAT me these irons hot: and, look thou stand The iron of itself, though heat red-hot,
Within the arras: when I strike my foot

Approaching near these eyes, would drink my tears, Upon the bosom of the ground, rnsh forth:

And quench his fiery indignation,
And bind the boy, which you shall find with me, Even in the matter of mine innocence :
Fast to the chair: be heedful: hence, and watch. Nay, after that, consume away in rust,

1 Atten. I hope, your warrant will bear out the deed. But for containing fire to harm mine eye.
Hub. Uneleanly scruples! Fear not you: look to'to- Are you more stubborn-hard than hammer'd iron!

[E.reunt Attendants. An if an angel should have come to me, Young lad, come forth; I have to say with you. And told me, Hubert should put out mine eyes, Enter Arthur.

I would not have believ'd no tongue, but Hubert's. Artha Good morrow, Hubert.

Hub. Come forth.

[Stamps Good morrow, little prince.

Re-enter Attendants, with cord, irons, co Arth. As little prince (having so great a tiele robe more prince.) as may be. You are sad. Do, as I bid you do.

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