K. John. Withhold thy speed, dreadful occasion! O, make a league with me, till I have pleas'd My discontented peers!-What! mother dead? How wildly then walks my estate in France!Under whose conduct came those powers of France, 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 With these ill tidings.-Now, what says the world 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 amaz'd' Under the tide but now I breathe again Aloft the flood; and can give audience To any tongue, speak it of what it will.
Bast. How I have sped among the clergymen, 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 I 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
Peter. Foreknowing that the truth will fall out so. K. John. Hubert, away with him; imprison him; 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 kinsman, go, And thrust thyself into their companies: I have a way to win their loves again ; Bring them before me.
K. John. It is the curse of kings, to be attended By slaves that take their humours 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 humour than advis'd respect.'
Hub. Here is your hand and seal for what r did.
K. John. O, when the last account 'twixt heaves 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 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,
K. John. Nay, but make haste; the better foot Made it no conscience to destroy a prince.
K. John. Hadst thou but shook thy head, os 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 break off,
And those thy fears might have wrought fears in
But thou didst understand me by my signs, And didst in signs again parley with sin;
| Yes, without stop, didst let thy heart consent, And, consequently, thy rude hand to act The deed, which both our tongues held vile to
Hub. My lord, they say, five moons were seen 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 civil tumult reigns
Between my conscience, and my cousin's death.
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, Not painted with the crimson spots of blood. Within this bosom never enter'd yet The dreadful motion 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.
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.
Pem. O death, made proud with pure and prince
The earth had not a hole to hide this deed. Sal. Murder, as hating what himself hath done, Doth lay it open, to urge on revenge.
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,
K. John. Doth Arthur live? O, haste thee to Form such another? This is the very top,
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.
ter Arthur, on the walls.
Arth. The wall is high; and yet will I down:
The height, the crest, or crest unto the crest, Of murder's arms: this is the bloodiest shame, The wildest savagery, the vilest stroke, That ever wall-ey'd wrath, or staring rage, Presented to the ears of soft remorse."
Pem. All murders past do stand excus'd in this : And this, so sole, and so unmatchable, Shall give a holiness, a purity,
To the yet-unbegotten sin of time; [Exe. And prove a deadly bloodshed but a jest, Exampled by this heinous spectacle.
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.
[Leaps down. O me! my uncle's spirit is in these stones:Heaven take my soul, and England keep my bones! [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.
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. Enter the Bastard.
Bast. Once more to-day well met, distemper'd lords!
The king, by me, requests your presence straight. 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'er it walks: Return, and tell him so; we know the worst. Bast. Whate'er you think, good words, I think, were best.
Sal. Our griefs, and not our manners, reason now. Bast. But there is little reason in your grief; Therefore, 'twere reason, you had manners now.
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 hand ; 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, By giving it the worship of revenge.
Pem. Big. Our souls religiously confirm thy words.
(6) Hand should be head: a glory is the circle of rays which surrounds the heads of saints in pictures. (7) Honest. (8) By compelling me to kill you.
Yet I am name: Whose tongue soefer peaks false. The imminent decay of wrested poo. Not rate speaks; who speaks not 'ruly, Jes.
Now sapey be, whose cloak and uncture) can Pem. Cut aim to pieces. Hold at mas embest. Bear away hat hud, Bast Keep the ware, I av. And follow me with speed 'lo the ang: Sal. Stand or shall zail you. Fuie inbridge. A thousand businesses are briet in hand. Brut. Toen wert better gail ne denti, Salisbury. And heaven iiseil doth irown upon he and If thon but frown so me, or stir the ont.
Or each the nasty spleen to to ne shame, I strike thee sead. Or so maui tos und four "oasting-iron, That you shall think the devs come from hell. Big. What wilt hondo, renowned Faulconbridge"
Pit 30 hy sword betime;
Second a villain, and a murderer?
Hub. Lord Bigot, I am sone. Biz.
Who will'd this prance Huh. Tis not an hour ance i eft nun weil: I honour'd nim, i tov'd nim; and will weep My date of tile sut, for ms sweet life's loss.
Sat. Trist not those cunning waters of his eyes, For villany is not without much theum,' And he, long traded in it, makes it seem Like rivers of remories and nnocency.
A way, with me, and all you whose souls abhor The incleanly savours of a slaughter-nouse, For I am stiled with this smell of nn.
SCEVE L-The same room in the palace. Enter King Jonn, Panduipa with the creon, and diendants.
K. John. Thus have I yielded up into your hand. The circle of my glory. Pend. Take gun
Giring John the croten. From this my hand, as holding of the pope, Your sovereign greatness and authority, K. John. Now seep your holy word. go meet. the French:
And from us notiness use all your power To stop their marches, 'fore ve are indiam'd.
Big. A wig, toward Bury, to the dauphin there! Our fiscontented counties to revoit; Pem. There, tell the king, he may incuire as Our pencie quarrel with obedience: Ecunt Lards. Swearing allegrance, and he love of soul, Ta stranger bloot, ta foreign mva.tv. Tus inundation of nistemper': humour Rests by you only to be qualified.
Bast. He's a good world !-Knew you of this fair work?
Beyond the infinite and boundless reach Of mercy, if Chog first this deed of death, Ar hou damn'd, Hibert. Hub.
Do but hear me, sir. Bast. Ha! I'll tell thee what Thou art damn'd sa black-nay, nothing is sol
Thon art more deep famn'd than prince Lucifer: There is not vet so ugly a fiend of heil
A thou shalt be, if thou didst kill this child. His. Upon my soul,- Bast.
Then pause not, for the present time's so sick, That present medicme must be minister'd, Or overthrow incurable ensues.
Pand. It was my oreath that blew this
Coon your stubborn asace of the node : But, since you are a rente convertite,
My tongue shail bush again this storm of war, And make fair weather in your blustering and. On this Ascension-day, remember weil,
If thou didst but consent: Upon your oal of service to the pone. Go I to make the French lay down their arms. (Ext
To this most cruel act, do but despair, And if non want'st a cord, the smallest thread That ever wider twisted from her womb Wil verve to strangle thee; a rush will be
A beam to hang thee on; or would'st thou drown thyself,
Put but a frie water in a moon, And if that he as all the sean, Baouch to stile such a villain 19. Idi magert thee very grievously.
Hub. If in aet, consent, or vin of thought, Berarity of the meaing that sweet breath When 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?,' methinks; and lose my way Among the thorne and dangers of this world.- How easy diet thon taxe all England up! From forth this morsel of dead royalty, The nife, the right, and truth of all this realm Je fled to heaven; and England now is left To tog and seamble, and to part by the teeth The nnowed interest of prond-swelling state. Now, for the bare-pick'd hone of majesty, Doth dogard war bristle his angry crest, And marleth in the gentle eves of peace: Now powers from home, and discontents at home, Meet in one line; and vast confusion waits (As doth a raven on a sick-fallen beast,)
(1) Moisture. (2) Pity. (3) Confounded.
K. John. Is this Ascension-day? Dad not the prochet
1y, that, before Ascension-dav at noon, My crown I should rive of Even so I have: I did suppose, it should be on const int ; But, heaven be thank'd, it is but voluntary.
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; 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; And he hath promis'd to dismiss the powers1 Led by the dauphin.
Bast O, inglorious league! Shall we, upon the footing of our land, Send fair-play orders, and make compromise, 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 your peace; Or if he do, let it at least be said, They saw we had a purpose of defence.
K. John. Have you the ordering of this present time.
Bast. A way then, with good courage; yet, I know, Our party may well meet a prouder foe. [Exeunt. SCENE II-A plain, near St. Edmund's-Bury. Enter, in arms, Lewis, Salisbury, Melun, Pem- broke, 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: O, it grieves my soul, That I must draw this metal from my side, To be a widow-maker; O, 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 and weep Upon the spot of this enforc'd cause,) To grace the gentry of a land remote, (2) Fondled.
And follow unacquainted colours here? What, here ?-O nation, that thou could'st remove! 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 combine 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. O, 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 had I 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. Come, come; for thou shalt thrust thy hand as deep 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, To give us warrant from the hand of heaven; With holy breath. And on our actions set the name of right,
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 back; 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 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 me? I, 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 men w to my claim are liable. Sweat in the insiness, and maintain his war? Have I not heard nese standers shout mi, V 28. lave jank i neir owns. Have I not here he best cards for 'he zame, Tovin his easy match Day 1 for a crown And had now give o'er the "ended set? Y530 Hul, it never shall be said.
Pod. You ook but in the antide of this work. Leo. Gutsude or inside, i will not return
Til my attempt so much se glorified As to my amole hope was promised Before I drew has railant head of war, And till 1 hese er? spirits from the world, Tai antions conquest, tad to win renowa
Even in the jaws of danger and of death.
[Trampet sounds. What lusty trumpet thus doth summon us?
Enter the Bastard, attended.
But. According to the fair play of the world, Let me have audience: I am went to speak. — My holy lord of Milan, from the ung
I come, to learn now on have feat for aim; And as you answer. I do know 'ne scope And warrant amated unto my tongue.
Pod. The taulun is too wilful-onnosite, And will not temporize with my entreaties; He Aati savu ne ́l not ay down us irms.
Bast. By ill the blood that ever fury breath'd, The youth says wett - Now hear our English sing:
For thus his route dota "peak in me. He is prepar'd, and awon on, he should: The apich and grimanner!y apprich, This nammessi misie, and unadv sed revel, This anhair'd sauciness, and borish troone, The king doth smile at and is well prepar'd To whip this dwarfish war, these pigmy arms, From out the circle of his territories,
That hand, which had the strength, even at your door,
To cudzel you, and make you take the hatch; To dive, like buckets, in concealed1 wells; To crouch in litter of your stable planks: To lie, like pawns, lock'd im in chests and trunks; To hug with wine: to seek sweet safety out Is vaults and prisons; and to thrill, and shake, Even at the crying of your nation's crow, Thinking his voice an armed Englishman ;- Shail that victorious hand be feebied here, That in your chambers give von chastisement? No: Know, the gallant monarch is in arms; And like an eagle o'er his aiery* towers,
To souse annoyance that comes near his nest.- And you degenerate, you ingrate revolts, You bloody Neroes, ripping up the womb Of your dear mother England, blush for shame: For your own ladies, and pale-visag'd maids, Like Amazons, come tripping after drums; Their thimbles into armed gauntlets change, Their needs to lances, and their gentle hearts To fierce and bloody inclination.
Lew. There end thy brave," and turn thy face. in peace,
We grant, thou canst outscold us: fare thee well; We hold our time too precious to be spent With such a brabbler.
Give me leave to speak. Bast. No, I will speak. Lew. We will attend to neither:- Strike up the drums; and let the tongue of war
Plead or our interest, and our being here. Bast. indeed, your drums, being beaten, will
And so shail you, being beaten : Do but start Aacho with the amour of hy trum. Auden at and a trum is read ɔra i, That shall reverberate ui is oud as hine; Sound out another and another snail, As ond is mine, rattle the welkin's ear. And mock the tees-mouth'd thunder: for at ATVĒ Not rusting to this baiting egate here, Whom he hath us i rather for sport than need, Is wartike Jenn, and in as forenead sts A barco 1 leath, whose office is his la To feast on whole housands of the French. Ler. Strike in our trums, to find this tanger out. Bast. And thou shail and it, dauphin, to nut (Exerunt. SCENE HL-The same. A field of battle. Alarums. Enter King John and Hubert.
Desires your majesty to leave the field;
And send um wird by me, which way you go. K. John. Teil him, toward Swinstead, to the
Mett. Be of good comfort: for the great supply, That was expected by the dauphin here,
Are wreck'd Caree nights ago on Good win sands. This news was brought to Richard but even now The French fight enidly, and retire themselves.
K. John. All me this tyrant fever burns me up, And will not let me welcome this good news. Set on toward Swinstead: to my litter straight- Weakness possessein me, and I am faint. ¡Ext. SCENE IV.-The same. Another part of the same. Enter Salisbury, Pembroke, Bigot, and others.
Sal. I did not think the king so stor'd with friends. Pem. Cp once again; put spirit in the French; If they miscarry, we miscarry 100.
Sal. That misbegotten devil, Faulconbridge, In spite of spite, alone upholds the day. Pem. They say, king John, sore sick, hath left the field.
Enter Melun wounded, and led by soldiers. Mel. Lead me to the revolts of England here. Sal. When we were happy, we had other names. Pem. It is the count Melun.
Wounded to death. Mel. Fly, noble English, you are bought and sold ; Enthread the rude eve of rebellion, And welcome home again discarded faith. Seek out king John, and fall before his feet; For, if the French be lords of this loud day, He means to recompense the pains you take, By cutting off your heads: Thus hath be sworn, And I with him, and many more with me, Upon the altar at Saint Edmund's-Bury; Even on that altar, where we swore to you Dear amity and everlasting love.
(2) Leap over the hatch. (5) Nest. (6) Needles. (7) Boast. (4) The crowing of a cock.'(9) A proverb intimating treachery.
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