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made a pause,



Besides, 1 met lord Bigot, and lord Salisbury, Is to be made, then shall this hand and seal ( With eyes as red as new-enkindled fire,)

Witness against us to dimmation ! And others more, going to seek the grave

How oft the sight of means to do ill deeds, Of Arthur, who, they say,

kill'd to-night

Makes deeds ill done! Hadest not thou been by, On your suggestion.

A fellow by the hand of nature mark’d, k. John. Gentle kinsman, go,

Quoted, and sign'd, to do a deed of shame, And thrust thyself into their companies :

This murder had not come into my mind : I have a way to win their loves again;

But, taking note of thy abhorr'd aspect, Bring them before me.

Finding thee fit for bloody villainy, Bast.

I will seek them out. Apt, liable, to be employ'd in danger, k. John. Nay, but make haste ; the better foot I faintly broke with thee of Arthur's death; before.

And thou, to be endeared to a king, 0, let me have no subject enemies,

Made it no conscience to destroy a prince. When adverse foreigners aftrighit my towns

Hub. My lord, With dreadful pomp of stout invasion !

K. John. Hadst thou but shook thy head, or Be Mercury, set feathers to thy heels; And Aly, like thought, from them to me again. When I spake darkly what I purposed; Bust. The spirit of the time shall teach me speed. Or turn’d an eye of doubt upon my face,


. As bid me tell my tale in express words; K'. John. Spoke like a spriteful noble gentle- | Deep shame had struck me dumb, made me break off,

And those thy fears might have wrought fears in me: Go after him; for he, perhaps, shall need

But thou didst understand me by my signs, Soine messenger betwixt me and the peers;

And didst in signs again parley with sin ; And be thou he.

Yea, without stop, didst let thy heart consent, Mess. With all my heart, my liege. And, consequently, thy rude hand to act

[Erit. The deed, which both our tongues held vile to K. John. My mother dead ! Re-enter Hubert.

Out of my sight, and never see me more !

My nobles leave me; and my state is brav’d, Hub. My lord, they say, five moons were seen Even at my gates, with ranks of foreign powers : to-night :

Nay, in the body of this fleshly land, Four fixed ; and the fifth did whirl about

This kingdom, this confine of blood and breath, The other four, in wond'rous motion.

Hostility and civil tumult reigns k. John. Five moons ?

Between my conscience, and my cousin's death. Hub. Old men, and beldams, in the streets Hub. Arm you against your other enemies, Do prophesy upon it dangerously :

I'll make a peace between your soul and you.
Young Arthur's death is common in their mouths : Young Arthur is alive : This hand of mine
And when they talk of him, they shake their heads, Is yet a maiden and an innocent hand,
And whisper one another in the ear;

Not painted with the crimson spots of blood.
And he, that speaks, doth gripe the hearer's wrist; Within this bosom never enter'd yet
Whilst he, that hears, makes fearful action,

The dreadful motion of a murd'rous thought,
With wrinkled brows, with nods, with rolling eyes. And you have slander'd nature in my form ;
I saw a smith stand with his hammer, thus,

Which howsoever rude exteriorly,
The whilst his iron did on the anvil cool,

Is yet the cover of a fairer mind
With open mouth swallowing a tailor's news; Than to be butcher of an innocent child.
Who, with his shears and measure in his hand,

K. John. Doth Arthur live? O, haste thee to the Standing on slippers, (which his nimble haste

peers, Had falsely thrust upon contráry feet,)

Throw this report on their incensed rage, Told of a many thousand warlike French,

And make them tame to their obedience! That were embatteled and rank'd in Kent :

Forgive the comment that my passion made
Another lean unwash'd artificer

Upon thy feature ; for my rage was blind,
Cuts off his tale, and talks of Arthur's dea-l). And foul imaginary eyes of blood
K. John. Why seek'st thou to possess me with Presented thee more hideous than thou art.
these fuars?

O, answer not; but to my closet bring
Why urgest thou so oft young Arthur's death? The angry lords, with all expedient haste :
Thy hand hath murder'd him : I had mighty cause I conjure thee but slowly; run more fast. (Ercunt.
To wish him dead, but thou hadst none to kill


- The same. Before the Castle. Hub. Had none, my lord! why, did you not provoke me?

Enter ARTHUR, on the walls. K. John. It is the curse of kings, to be attended Arth. The wall is high; and yet will I leap By slaves, that take their humours for a warrant

down: To break within the bloody house of life :

Good ground, he pitiful, and hurt me not ! And, on the winking of authority,

There's few, or none, do know me; if they did, To understand a law; to know the meaning This ship-boy's semblance hath disguis'd me quite. Of dangerous majesty, when, perchance, it frowns I am afraid ; and vet l'll venture it. More upon humour than advis'd respect.

If I get down, and do not break iny limbs, Hub. Here is your hand and seal for what I did. I'll find a thousand shifts to get away : k. John. O, when the last account 'twixt heaven As good to die, and go, as die, and stay. and earth

Leaps down.

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O me! my uncle's spirit is in these stones :

Never to taste the pleasures of the worii. Heaven take my soul, and England keep my bones! Never to be infected with chixhi,

(Dies. Nor conversant with case and icileness, Enter PEMBROKE, SALISBURY, and Bigor.

Till I have set a glory to this hend.

By giving it the worship of revenge. Sal. Lords, I will meet him at Saint Edmund's- Pem. Dig. Our souls religiously confirin tliy Bury;

words. It is our safety, and we must embrare

Enter UUEERT. This gentle offer of the perilous time.

Pem. Who brought that letter from the cardinal ? Hub. Lords, I am hot with haste in seeking you: Sal. The count Melun, a noble lord of France;

Arthur doth live; the king hath sent for you. Whose private with me, of the Dauphin's love,

Sal. O, he is bold, and blushes not at death: Is much more general than these lines import.

Avaunt, thou hateful villain, get thee gone! Biy. To-morrow morning let us meet him then.

Hub. I am no villain. Sal. Or, rather then set forward : for 'twill be Sal.

Must I rob the law ? Two long days' journey, lords, or e'er we meet.

[Drawing his suord.

Bast. Your sword is bright, sir ; put it up again. Enter the Bastard.

Sal. Not till I sheath it in a murderer's skin. Bast. Once more to-day well met, distemper'd

Hub. Stand back, lord Salisbury, stand back, I lorıls !

say ; The king, by me, requests your presence straight.

By heaven, I think, my sword's as sharp as yours : Sal. The king hath dispossess'd himself of us; I would not have you, lord, forget yourself, We will not line his thin bestained cloak

Nor tempt the danger of my true detence; With our pure honours, nor attend the foot

Lest I, by marking of your rage, forget That leaves the print of blood where-e'er it walks: Your worth, your greatness, and nobility. Return, and tell him so; we know the worst.

Big. Out, dunghill! dar'st thou brave a nobleBast. Whate'er you think, good words, I think,

man ? were best.

Hub. Not for my life : but yet I dare defend Sal. Our griefs, and not our manners, reason now.

My innocent life against an emperor. Bast. But there is little reason in your grief;

Sal. Thou art a murderer. Therefore, 'twere reason, you had manners now.


Do not prove me so; Pem. Sir, sir, impatience hath his privilege. Yet, I am none : Whose tongue soe'er speaks false, Bast. 'Tis true; to hurt his master, no man else. Not truly speaks ; who speaks not truly, lies. Sal. This is the prison : What is he lies here? Pem. Cut him to pieces. [Seeing ARTHUR. Bast.

Keep the peace, I say. Pem. O death, made proud with pure and

Sal. Stand by, or I shall gall you, Fauiconbridge. princely beauty !

Bast. Thou wert better gall the devil, Salisbury: The earth had not a hole to hide this deed.

If thou but frown on me, or stir thy foot, Sal. Murder, as hating what himself hath done, Or teach thy hasty spleen to do me shame, Doth lay it open, to urge on revenge.

I'll strike thee dead. Put up thy sword betime; Big. Or, when he doom'd this beauty to a grave, Or I'll so maul you and your toasting-iron, Found it too precious-princely for a grave.


shall think the devil is come from heli. Sal. Sir Richard, what think you? Have you Big. What wilt thou do, renowned Faulcon. beheld,

bridge? Or have you read, or heard? or could you think? Second a villain and a murderer ? Or do you almost think, although you see,

Hub. Lord Bigot, I am none. That you do see ? could thought, without this object, Big:

Who kill'd this prince : Form such another ? This the very top,

Hub. 'Tis not an hour since I left bim well : The height, the crest, cr crest unto the crest,

I honour'd him, I lov'd him; and will weep Of murder's arms : this is the bloodiest shame, My date of life out, for his sweet life's loss. The wildest savag'ry, the vilest stroke,

Sal. Trust not those cunning waters of his eyes, That ever wall-ey'd wrath, or staring rage,

For villainy is not without such rheum; Presented to the tears of soft remorse.

And he, long traded in it, makes it seem Pem. All murders past do stand excus'd in this : Like rivers of remorse and innocency. And this so sole, and so unmatchable,

Away, with me, all you whose souls abhor Shall give a holiness, a purity,

The uncleanly savours of a slaughter-house ; To the yet-unbegotten sin of times ;

For I am stified with this smell of sin. And prove a deadly bloodshed but a jest,

Big. Away, toward Bury, to the Dauphin there . Exampled by this heinous spectacle.

Pem. There, tell the king, he may inquire us out. Bast. It is a damned and a bloody work ;

[Erewnt Lords. The graceless action of a heavy hand,

Bast. Here's a good world! – Knew you of this If that it be the work of any hand.

fair work? Sal. If that it be the work of any hand ?

Beyond the infinite and boundless reach We had a kind of light, what would ensue:

Of mercy, if thou didst this deed of death, It is the shameful work of Hubert's hand;

Art thou damn'd, Hubert. The practice, and the purpose, of the king:


Do but hear me, sir. From whose obedience I forbid my soul,

Bast. Ha! I'll tell thee what ; Kneeling before this ruin of sweet life

Thou art darr n'd as black

- nay, nothing is so And breathing to his breathless excellence

black ; The incense of a vow, a holy vow;

Thou art more deep damn'd than prince Lucifer :

There is not yet so ugly a fiend of hell

I am amaz’d, methinks; and lose my way
As thou shalt be, if thou didst kill this child. Among the thorns and dangers of this world.
Hub. Upon my soul,


dost thou take all England up! Bast.

If thou didst but consent From forth this morsel of dead royalty, To this most cruel act, do but despair,

The life, the right, and truth of all this realm And, if thou want'st a cord, the sinallest thread Is fled to heaven; and England now is left That ever spider twisted from her womb

To tug and scamble, and to part by the teeth Will serve to strangle thee; a rush will be

The unowed interest of proud-swelling state. A beam to hang thee on; or would'st thou drown Now, for the bare-pick'd bone of majesty, thyself,

Doth dog war bristle his angry crest, Put but a little water in a spoon,

And snarleth in the gentle eyes of peace : And it shall be as all the ocean,

Now powers from home, and discontents at home, Enough to stifle such a villain up.

Meet in one line ; and vast confusion waits I do suspect thee very grievously.

(As doth a raven on a sick-fallen beast,) Hub. If I in act, consent, or sin of thought The eminent decay of wrested pomp. Be guilty of the stealing that sweet breath

Now happy he, whose cloak and cincture can Which was embounded in this beauteous clay, Hold out this tempest. Bear away that child, Let hell want pains enough to torture me!

And follow me with speed ; I'll to the king :
I left him well.

A thousand businesses are brief in hand,
Go, bear him in thine arms. – And heaven itself doth frown upon the land.




But Dover castle : London hath receiv’d, SCENE I. - The same. A Room in the Palace.

Like a kind host, the Dauphin and his powers : Enter King John, Pandulph with the crown, and

Your nobles will not hear you, but are gone

To offer service to your enemy;

And wild amazement hurries up and down K. John. Thus have I yielded up into your hand

The little number of your doubtful friends. The circle of my glory.

K. John. Would not my lords return to Pand. Take again

again, [Giving John the crown.

After they heard young Arthur was alive? From this my hand, as holding of the pope,

Bast. They found him dead, and cast into the Your sovereign greatness and authority.

streets ; K. John. Now keep your holy word : go meet

An empty casket, where the jewel of life the French;

By some damn'd hand was robb’d and ta en away. And from his holiness use all your power

K. John. That villain Hubert told me he did To stop their marches, 'fore we are inflam’d.

live. Our discontented counties do revolt;

Bast. So, on my soul, he did, for aught he knew. Our people quarrel with obedience ;

But wherefore do you droop? why look you sad ? Swearing allegiance, and the love of soul,

Be great in act, as you have been in thought; To stranger blood, to foreign royalty.

Let not the world see fear, and sad distrust, This inundation of mistemper'd humour

Govern the motion of a kingly eye : Rests by you only to be qualified.

Be stirring as the time; be fire with fire; Then pause not; for the present time's so sick,

Threaten the threat'ner, and outface the brow That present medicine must be minister'd,

Of bragging horror : so shall inferior eyes, Or overthrow incurable ensues.

That borrow their behaviours from the great, Pand. It was my breath that blew this tempest up,

Grow great by your example, and put on Upon your stubborn usage of the pope :

The dauntless spirit of resolution. But, since you are a gentle convertite,

Away; and glister like the god of war, My tongue shall hush again this storm of war,

When he intendeth to become the field : And make fair weather in your blustering land.

Show boldness and aspiring confidence. On this Ascension-day, remember well,

What, shall they seek the lion in his den, Upon your oath of service to the pope,

And fright him there? and make bim tremble Go I to make the French lay down their arms.


[Erit. 0, let it not be said ! - Forage, and run K. John. Is this Ascension-day? Did not the

To meet displeasure further from the doors ; prophet

And grapple with him, ere he come so nigh. Say, that, before Ascension-day at noon,

K. John. The legate of the pope hath been with My crown I should give off? Even so I have :

me, I did suppose, it should be on constraint;

And I have made a happy peace with him; But, heaven be thank’d, it is but voluntary.

And he hath promis'd to dismiss the powers

Led by the Dauphin.
Enter the Bastard.


O inglorious league! Bust. All Kent bath yielded; nothing there Shall we, upon the footing of our land, holds out,

Send fair-play orders, and make compromise,

back ;

Insinuation, parley, and base truce,

Figur'd quite o'er with burning meteors. To arms invasive? shall a beardless boy,

Lift up thy brow, renowned Salisbury, A cocker'd silken wanton brave our fields,

And with a great heart heave away this storm: And fresh his spirit in a warlike soil,

Commend these waters to those baby eyes, Mocking the air with colours idly spread,

That never saw the giant world enrag'd; find no check ? Let us, my liege, to arms : Nor met with fortune other than at feasts, Percnance, the cardinal cannot make your peace; Full warm of blood, of mirth, of gossiping. Or if he do, let it at least be said,

Come, come; for thou shalt thrust thy hand as deep They saw we had a purpose of defence.

Into the purse of rich prosperity, K. John. Have thou the ordering of this present As Lewis himself: - so, nobles, shall you all, time.

That knit your sinews to the strength of mine. Bast. Away then, with good courage; yet, I know, Our party may well meet a prouder foc. [Ereunt.

Enter PanduLPH, attended.

And even there, methinks, an angel spake : SCENE II. A Plain, near St. Edmund's-Bury. Look, where the holy legate comes apace,

To give us warrant from the hand of heaven ; Enter in arms, LEWIS, SALISBURY, Melun,

And on our actions set the name of right,
PEMBROKE, Bigot, and Soldiers.

With holy breath.
Lew. My lord Melun, let this be copied out, Pand.

Hail, noble prince of France! And keep it safe for our remembrance :

The next is this, king John hath reconcil'd Return the precedent to these lords again ;

Himself to Rome; his spirit is come in, That, having our fair order written down,

That so stood out against the holy church, Both they, and we, perusing o'er these notes, The great metropolis and see of Rome : May know wherefore we took the sacrament, Therefore thy threat’ning colours now wind up, And keep our faiths firm and inviolable.

And tame the savage spirit of wild war; Sal. Upon our sides it never shall be broken. That, like a lion foster'd up at hand, And, noble dauphin, albeit we swear

It may lie gently at the foot of peace, A voluntary zeal, and unurg'd faith,

And be no further harmful than in show.
To your proceedings; yet, believe me, prince, Lew. Your grace shall pardun me, I will not
I am not glad that such a sore of time
Should seek a plaster by contemn'd revolt,

I am too high-born to be propertied,
And beal the inveterate canker of one wound, To be a secondary ai controul,
By making many: 0, it grieves my soul,

Or useful serving-man, and instrument,
That I must draw this metal from my side

To any sovereign state throughout the world. To be a widow-maker ; 0, and there,

Your breath first kindled the dead coal of wars Where honourable rescue, and defence,

Between this chástis'd kingdom and myself, Cries out upon the name of Salisbury :

And brought in matter that should feed this fire; But such is the infection of the time,

And now 'tis far too huge to be blown out That, for the health and physick of our right, With that same weak wind which enkindled it. We cannot deal but with the very hand

You taught me how to know the face of right, Of stern injustice and confused wrong.

Acquainted me with interest to this land, And is't not pity, O my grieved friends!

Yea, thrust this enterprize into my heart : That we, the sons and children of this isle,

And come you now to tell me, John hath made Were born to see so sad an hour as this:

His peace with Rome? What is that peace to me? Wherein we step after a stranger march

I, by the honour of my marriage-bed, Upon her gentle bosom, and fill up

After young Arthur, claim this land for mine; Her enemies' ranks, (I must withdraw and weep And, now it is half-conquer'd, must I back, Upon the spot of this enforced cause,)

Because that John hath made his peace with Rome ? To grace the gentry of a land remote,

Am I Rome's slave? What penny hath Rome borne, And follow unacquainted colours here?

What men provided, what munition sent,
What, here? - O nation, that thou could'st remove! To underprop this action ? is't not I,
That Neptune's arms, who clippeth thee about, That undergo this charge? who else but I,
Would bear thee from the knowledge of thyself, And such as to my claim are liable,
And grapple thee unto a pagan shore ;

Sweat in this business, and maintain this war? Where these two Christian armies might combine Have I not heard these islanders shout out, The blood of malice in a vein of league,

Vive le roy! as I have bank'd their towns? And not to spend it so unneighbourly!

Have I not here the best cards for the

game, Lew. A noble temper dost thou show in this ; To win this easy match play'd for a crown? And great affections, wrestling in thy bosom, And shall I now give o'er the yielded set? Do make an earthquake of nobility.

No, on my soul, it never shall be said. 0, what a noble combat hast thou fought,

Pand. You look but on the outside of this work. Between compulsion, and a brave respect !

Lew. Outside or inside, I will not return Let me wipe off this honourable dew,

Till my attempt so much be glorified That silverly doth progress on thy cheeks :

As to my ample hope was promised My heart hath melted at a lady's tears,

Before I drew this gallant head of war, Being an ordinary inundacion ;

And cull'd these fiery spirits from the world, But this effusion of such manly drops,

To cutlook conquest, and to win renown This shower, blown up by tempest of the soul, Even in the jaws of danger and of death. Startles mine eyes, and makes me more amaz'd

[Trumpel sounts. Than had I seen the vaulty top of heaven

What lusty trumpet thus doth summon us?


Leu. Strike up our drums, to find this danger out.
Enter the Bastard, attended.

Bast. And thou shalt find it, Dauphin, do not
Bast. According to the fair play of the world,


[Ecerent. Let me have audience; I am sent to speak : My holy lord of Milan, from the king

SCENE III. The same. A Field of Batlle. I coine, to learn how you have dealt for him ;

Alarums. Enter King Joux and Hubert. And, as you answer, I do know the

scope And warrant limited unto my tongue.

K. John. How goes the day with us? 0, tell me, Pan. The dauphin is too wilful opposite,

Hubert. And will not temporize with my entreaties;

Hub. Badly, I fear: How fares your majesty ? He flatly says, he'll not lay down his arms.

K. John. This fever, that hath troubled me so Bust. By all the blood that ever jury breath'd,

long, The youth says well :- - Now hear our English | Lies heavy on me; 0, my heart is sick!

king; For thus his royalty doth speak in me.

Enter a Messenger. He is prepar'd; and reason too, he should :

Mess. My lord, your valiant kinsman, FaulconThis apish and unmannerly approach,

bridge, This barness'd masque, and unadvised revel, Desires your majesty to leave the field ; This unhair'd sauciness, and boyish troops,

And send him word by me, which way you go. The king doth smile at; and is well prepar'd

K. John. Tell him, toward Swinstead, to the To whip this dwarfish war, these pigmy arms,

abbey there. From out the circle of his territories.

Mess. Be of good comfort ; for the great supply, That hand, which had the strength, even at your That was expected by the dauphin here, door,

Are wreck'd three nights ago on Goodwin's sands. To cudgel you, and make you take the hatch; This news was brought to Richard but even now: To dive, like buckets, in concealed wells;

The French fight coldly, and retire themselves. To crouch in litter of your stable planks;

K. John. Ah me! this tyrant fever burns me up, To lie, like pawns, lock'd up in chests and And will not let me welcome this good news. trunks;

Set on toward Swinstead : to my litter straight;
To hug with swine ; to seek sweet safety out Weakness possesseth me, and I am faint. [Exeunt.
In vaults and prisons; and to thrill, and shake,
Even at the crying of your nation's crow,


The same. Another part of th.
Thinking liis voice an armed Englishman ;-
Shall that victorious hand be feebied here,
That in your chambers gave you chastisement ?

Enter SALISBURY, PEMBROKE, Bigor, and others.
No: Know, the gallant monarch is in arms;

Sal. I did not think the king so stor'd with And like an cagle o'er his aiery towers,

friends. To souse annoyance that comes near his nest. -- Pem. Up once again; put spirit in the French: And you degenerate, you ingrate revolts,

If they miscarry, we miscarry too.
You bloody Neroes, ripping up the womb

Sal. That misbegotten devil, Faulconbridge,
Of your dear mother England, blush for shame : In spite of spite, alone upholds the day.
For your own ladies, and pale-visag'd maids,

Pem. They say, king John, sore sick, hath left
Like Amazons, come tripping after drums;

the field. Their thimbles into armed gauntlets change,

Enter Melun wounded, and led by Soldiers.
Their neelds to lances, and their gentle hearts
To fierce and bloody inclination.

Mel. Lead me to the revolts of England here. Lew. There end thy brave, and turn thy face in Sal. When we were happy, we had other names. peace ;

Pem. It is the count Melun. We grant, thou canst outscold us : fare thee well;


Wounded to death.
We hold our time too precious to be spent

Mel. Fly, noble English, you are bought and
With such a brabbler.

Give me leave to speak. Unthread the rude eye of rebellion,
Bast. No, I will speak.

And welcome home again discarded faith. Leu.

We will attend to neither: Seek out king John, and fall before his foet; Strike up the drums; and let the tongue of war For, if the French be lords of this loud day, Plead for our interest, and our being here.

He means to recompense the pains you take, Bast. Indeed, your drums, being beaten, will cry By cutting off your heads: Thus hath he sworn, out;

And I with him, and many more with me, And so shall you, being beaten : Do but start Upon the altar at Saint Edmund's-Bury ; An echo with the clamour of thy drum,

Even on that altar, where we swore to you And even at hand a drum is ready brac'd,

Dear amity and everlasting love. That shall reverberate all as loud as thine;

Sal. May this be possible ? may this be true ? Sound but another, and another shall,

Mel. Have I no: hideous death within my view As loud as thine, rattle the welkin's ear,

Retaining but a quantity of life;
And mock the deep-mouth'd thunder : for at hand Which bleeds away, even as a form of wax
(Not trusting to this halting legate here,

Resolveth from his figure 'gainst the tire?
Whom he hath us'd rather for sport than need,) What in the world should make me now deceive,
Is warlike Jolin ; and in his forehead sits

Since I must lose the use of all deceit?
A bare-ribb’d death, whose office is this day Why should I then be faise ; since it is true
To feast upon while thousands of the French. That I must die here, and live hence by truth?

sold ;


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