t

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 embatteled 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 murther'd him: I had a mighty cause
To wish him dead, but thou hadst none to kill him.

HUB. None had, my lord! why, did you not provoke 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 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 ill deeds 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 murther had not come into my mind:
But, taking note of thy abhorr'd aspect,
Finding thee fit for bloody villainy,
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

HUB. My lord,—

K. JOHN. Hadst thou but shook thy head, or 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 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 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 murtherous 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.

[Exeunt.

SCENE III.—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:

[Leaps down

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 BIGOT.

SAL. Lords, I will meet him at St. 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 't will 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.

[Dies

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, 't were reason you had manners now.
PEM. Sir, sir, impatience hath his privilege.

BAST. 'T is 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 princely

beauty!

The earth had not a hole to hide this deed.

SAL. Murther, 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? You have 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,
Form such another? This is the very top,

The height, the crest, or crest unto the crest,

Of murther'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 tears of soft remorse.

PEM. All murthers 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 times;

And prove a deadly bloodshed but a jest,
Exampled by this heinous spectacle.

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.

hand?

SAL. If that it be the work of any
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.
Enter HUBERT.

HUB. Lords, I am hot with haste in seeking you:
Arthur doth live; the king hath sent for you.

SAL. O, he is bold, and blushes not at death:Avaunt, thou hateful villain, get thee gone!

HUB. I am no villain.
SAL.

Must I rob the law?

[Drawing his sword

BAST. Your sword is bright, sir; put it up again.
SAL. Not till I sheathe it in a murtherer's skin.
HUB. Stand back, lord Salisbury, stand back, I say;
By heaven, I think, my sword's as sharp as yours:
I would not have you, lord, forget yourself,
Nor tempt the danger of my true defence;
Lest I, by marking of your rage, forget

Your worth, your greatness, and nobility.

BIG. Out, dunghill! dar'st thou brave a nobleman?
HUB. Not for my life: but yet I dare defend

My innocent life against an emperor.

SAL. Thou art a murtherer.

HUB.

Do not prove me so;

Yet, I am none: Whose tongue soe'er speaks false,
Not truly speaks; who speaks not truly, lies.

PEM. Cut him to pieces.

BAST.

Keep the peace, 1 say.

SAL. Stand by, or I shall gall you, Faulconbridge.
BAST. Thou wert better gall the devil, Salisbury:

If thou but frown on me, or stir thy foot,

Or teach thy hasty spleen to do me shame,

I'll strike thee dead. Put up thy sword betime;

Or I'll so maul you and your toasting-iron,

That you
shall think the devil is come from hell.
BIG. What wilt thou do, renowned Faulconbridge?
Second a villain and a murthercr?

HUB. Lord Bigot, I am none.

BIG.

Who kill'd this prince?