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 about; Startles and frights consideration; Makes sound opi opinion sick, and truth suspected, For putting on so new a fashion'd robe.
Pem. When workmen strive to do better than wel, 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.
Sal. To this effect, before you were new-crown'd, We breath'd our counsel: but it pleas'd your highness 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 coronation I have possess'd you with, and think them strong; And more, more strong, (when lesser is my fear,) I shall indue you with: Meantime, 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 restraint 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, attend
The steps of wrong,) should move you to mew up 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, That whereupon our weal, on you depending, Counts it your weal, he have his liberty.
K.John. Let it be so; I do commit this youth
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 color of the king doth come and go, Between his purpose and his conscience, 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 :- Great 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?
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 breadth of all this isle, Three foot of it doth hold: Bad world the while! This must not be thus borne: this will break out To all our sorrows, and ere long I doubt.
K. John. They burn in indignation; I repent;
There is no sure foundation set on blood; No certain life achiev'd by others' death.-
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 learned by them; For, when you should be told they do prepare,
The tidings come, that they are all arriv'd.
K. John. O, 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,
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 rumor's tongue I idly heard; If true, or false, I know not.
K. John. Withhold thy speed, dreadful occasion!
O, make a league with me, till I have pleas'd My discontented peers!-my mother dead?
Hub. My lord, they say, five moons were seen to-night:
Four fixed; and the fifth did whirl about
The other four, in wondrous motion.
K. John. Five moons?
Old men, and beldams, in the streets,
Do prophesy upon it dangerously;
Young Arthur's death is common in their mouths: And when they talk of him, they shake their heads,
And whisper one another in the ear;
And he, that speaks, doth gripe the hearer's wrist; Whilst he, that hears, makes fearful action, With wrinkled brows, with nods, with rolling eyes. 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 contrary feet,) Told of a many thousand warlike French, That were embattailled 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 cause To wish him dead, but thou hadst none to kill him. 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 humors for a warrant To 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 humor 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! Hadst 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 had 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.
K. John. Hadst thou but shook thy head, or made a pause,
When I spake darkly what I purposed; Or turned an eye of doubt upon my face,
And bid me tell my tale in express words:
Deep shame had struck me dumb, made me break off, And those thy fears might have wrought fears in me: 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 civic tumult reigns Between my conscience, and my cousin's death. Hub. Arm you against your other enemies, I'll make a peace betwixt 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 notion 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.
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 hath disguis'd me quite. I am afraid; and yet I'll venture it. If I get down, and do not break my limbs, I'll find a thousand shifts to get away: As good to die, and go, as die, and stay. O me! my uncle's spirit is in these stones :- Heaven take my soul, and England keep my bones!
Enter PEMBROKE, SALISBURY and BIGCT.
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.
Pem. Who brought that letter from the cardinal ? 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.
Faul. Once more to-day well met, distemper'd lords ! The king by me, requests your presence straight.
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