There is no fure foundation fet on blood;
No certain life atchiev'd by others' death-
A fearful eye thou haft; where is that blood,
[To the Meffenger.

That I have feen inhabit in thofe cheeks?
So foul a fky clears not without a storm;

[Afide.

Pour down thy weather. How goes all in France? Me. From France to England never fuch a power, For any foreign preparation,

Was levy'd in the body of a land.

The copy of your fpeed is learn'd by them:
For when you fhould 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 flept? where is my mother's care?
That such an army fhould be drawn in France,
And fhe not hear of it?

Meff. My Liege, her ear

Is ftopt with duft: the first of April dy'd
Your noble mother; and, as I hear, my Lord,
The Lady Conftance in a frenzy dy'd

Three days before: but this from rumour's tongue
I idly heard; if true or falfe, I know not.

K. John. With-hold thy fpeed, dreadful occafion!
O make a league with me, till I have pleas'd
My difcontented peers. What! mother dead?
How wildly then walks my estate in France?
Under whofe conduct came thofe powers of France,
That thou for truth giv'st out are landed here?
Meff. Under the Dauphin.

Enter Faulconbridge, and Peter of Pomfret.
K. John. Thou haft made me giddy
With thefe ill tidings. Now, what fays the world
To your proceedings? Do not feck to stuff
My head with more ill news, for it is full.

Faulc. But if you be afraid to hear the worst,
Then let the worit unheard fall on your head. -
K. John. Bear with me, coufin; for I was amaz'd
Under the tide; but now I breathe again
Aloft the flood, and can give audience
To any tongue, fpeak it of what it will.

Faulc.

Faule. How I have fped among the clergymen,
The fums I have collected fhall exprefs.
But as I travell'd hither through the land,
I find the people ftrangely fantafied;
Poffefs'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 I found
With many hundreds treading on his heels:
To whom he fung in rude harfh-founding rhimes,
That ere the next Afcenfion-day at noon,
Your Highness should deliver up your crown.

K. John. Thou idle dreamer, wherefore did'st thou fo?
Peter. Foreknowing that the truth will fall out fo.
K. John Hubert, away with him, imprison him,
And on that day at noon whereon he fays

I fhall yield up my crown, let him be hang'd.
Deliver him to fafety, and return, :

For I must use thee. O, my gentle coufin,

[Exit Hubert with Peter.

Hear'ft thou the news abroad, who are arriv'd?

Faulc. The French, my Lord; mens' mouths are full Befides, I met Lord Bigot and Lord Salisbury, [of it. With eyes as red as new-enkindled fire,

And others more, going to feek the grave

Of Arthur, who, they fay, is kill'd to-night
On your fuggeftion.

K. John. Gentle kinfman, go

And thruft thyfelf into their company.
I have a way to win their loves again:
Bring them before me.

Faulc. I will feek them out.

K. John. Nay but make hafte: the better foot before. O, let me have no fubject enemies,

When adverse foreigners affright my towns
With dreadful pomp of ftout invafion.

Be Mercury, fet feathers to thy heels;

And fly, like thought, from them to me again. Faule. The fpirit of the time fhall teach me speed.

[Exit.

K. John. Spoke like a fprightful noble gentleman.

Go after him; for he perhaps fhall need

Some

Some meffenger betwixt me and the peers;

And be thou he.

Me. With all my heart, my Liege.

K. John. My mother dead!

SCENE IV. Enter Hubert.

[Exit.

Hub. My Lord, they fay five moons were feen toFour fixed, and the fifth did whirl about

The other four in wond'rous motion.

K. John. Five moons?

Hub. Old men and beldams, in the streets, Do prophesy upon it dangerously.

[night:

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, • Whilft he that hears makes fearful action

• With wrinkled brows, with nods, with rolling eyes,
I faw a fmith stand with his hammer, thus,
The whilft 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 flippers, which his nimble hafte
• Had falfely thrust upon contrary feet,

Told of a many thousand warlike French,
That were imbattled and rank'd in Kent.

• Another lean, unwash'd artificer,

• Cuts off his tale, and talks of Arthur's death.'

K. John. Why feek'st thou to poffefs me with thefe Why urgeft thou fo oft young Arthur's death? [fears? Thy hand hath murther'd him: I had a cause To with him dead, but thou had'ft none to kill him. Hub. Had none, my Lord? why, did you not pro

voke me?

K. John. It is the curfe of Kings, to be attended "By flaves that take their humours for a warrant, "To break into the bloody house of life:

And, on the winking of authority,

"To understand a law; to know the meaning

This plainly hints at Davifon's cafe, in the affair of Mary Queen of Scots; and fo muft have been inferted long after the first reprefentation.

"Of

"Of dang'rous majefty; when, perchance, it frowns "More upon humour, than advis'd respect.”

Hub. Here is your hand and feal for what I did.
K. John. Oh, when the laft account 'twixt heav'n

and earth

Is to be made, then fhall this hand and feal

Witnefs against us to damnation.

"How oft the fight of means to do ill deeds, "Makes deeds ill done? for hadft not thou been by, "A fellow by the hand of Nature mark'd, "Quoted, and fign'd to do a deed of fhame, "This murther had not come into

my

mind."

But taking note of thy abhorr'd aspect,
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,
Mad'ft it no confcience to deftroy a Prince.
Hub. My Lord

K. John." Hadft thou but fhook thy head, or made a "When I fpake darkly what I purpofed;

"Or turn'd an eye of doubt

upon my face, "Or bid me tell my tale in exprefs words;

[paufe,

Deep fhame had struck me dumb, made me break

"off,

"And thofe thy fears might have wrought fears in me.” But thou didst understand me by my signs,

An didft in figns again parley with fin;

Yea, without ftop, didft let thy heart confent,

And confequently thy rude hand to act

The deed, which both our tongues held vile to name.—
Out of my fight, and never fee me more!
My Nobles leave me, and my state is brav'd,
Ev'n at my gates, with ranks of foreign pow'rs;
Nay, in the body of this fleshly land,

This kingdom, this confine of blood and breath,
Hoftility and civil tumult reigns,

Between my confcience, and my coufin's death.

Hub. Arm you against your other enemies,
I'll make a peace between your foul and you.
Young Arthur is alive: this hand of mine
Is yet a maiden, and an innocent hand,

Not painted with the crimson fpots of blood.
Within this bofom never enter'd yet

The dreadful motion of a murderer's thought,
And you have flander'd nature in my form;
Which, howfoever rude exteriorly,

Is yet the cover of a fairer mind,

Than to be butcher of an innocent child.

K. John. Doth Arthur live? O hafte thee to the Peers, Throw this report on their incenfed rage, And make them tame to their obedience. Forgive the comment that my paffion made Upon thy feature, for my rage was blind; And foul imaginary eyes of blood Prefented thee more hideous than thou art. Oh, answer not, but to my closet bring The angry Lords with all expedient haste. I conjure thee but flowly: run more fast.

[Exeunt.

SCENE V. Aftreet before à prison.

Enter Arthur on the walls difguis'd.

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 fhip-boy's semblance hath difguis'd me quite. I am afraid, and yet I'll venture it.

[Leaps down.

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 ftay.
Oh me! my uncle's spirit is in these stones:
Heav'n take my soul, and England keep my bones!

Enter Pembroke, Salisbury, and Bigot.

[Dies.

Sal. Lords, I will meet him at St. Edmondsbury; It is our fafety; and we must embrace This gentle offer of the perilous time.

Pemb. 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 gen'ral than these lines import *.

i. e. whofe private, account, of the Dauphin' affection to our

caufe, is much more ample than the letters, Mr. Foge.

'VOL. III.

X x

Bigot.