ARTHUR'S DEATH. ACT IV. SCENE 3.-Before the Castle. Arthur, disguised as a sailor boy, tries to escape. He leaps from the castle wall, and is killed. Arth. The wallis high; and yet will I leapdown: Good ground, be pitiful, and hurt me not!— There's few, or none, do know me; if they did, This ship-boy's semblance1 hath disguised me I am afraid; and yet I'll venture it. [quite. 5 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. 2 [Leaps down. Oh me! my uncle's spirit is in these stones :Heaven take my soul, and England keep my [Dies, 10 Sal. This is the prison. What is he lies here? (seeing Arthur) bones! Pem. Oh death, made proud with pure and princely beauty. The earth had not a hole to hide this deed. 20 1 (1.4). Ship-boy's semblance, the 2 (l. 9). Uncle's spirit. In reference sailor-boy's dress which Arthur Arthur had put on. to the hard stormy nature of King John. KING JOHN AND HIS CROWN. ACT V. SCENE 1.-Northampton Palace. Enter KING JOHN, PANDULPH and ATTENDANTS. K. John. Thus have I yielded up hand The circle of my glory.1 into your Pand. [giving JOHN the crown]. Take again From this my hand, as holding of the Pope, K. John. Now keep your holy word; go meet the French; And from his Holiness 2 use all your power 5 10 Then pause not; for the present time's so sick, 15 That present medicine must be minister'd, Or overthrow incurable ensues. Pand. It was my breath that blew this tempest up, Upon your stubborn usage of the Pope; 6 But since you are a gentle convertite, 20 On this Ascension-day, remember well, Go I to make the French lay down their arms. 25 Exit. K. John. Is this Ascension-day? Did not Say, that before Ascension day at noon But, heaven be thank'd, it is but voluntary. The Dauphin, aided by the disaffected nobles of England, gives battle to John at St. Edmund's-Bury. The king's troops are repulsed, and John is conveyed to Swinstead Abbey, sick of a fever. There the King dies. SCENE-Swinstead Abbey. Enter BIGOT and ATTENDANTS, who bring in KING JOHN in a chair. K. John. Ay, marry, now my soul hath elbow-room; It would not out at windows, nor at doors. 30 5 Upon a parchment, and against this fire Do I shrink up. P. Henry. How fares your majesty ? K. John. Poisoned-ill fare;-dead, forsook, cast off: And none of you will bid the Winter come, To make his bleak winds kiss my parched lips, much, I beg cold comfort; and you are so strait, P. Henry. O that there were some virtue in my tears, That might relieve you K. John. The salt in them is hot. 20 Within me is a hell; and there the poison On unreprievable condemned blood. Enter FAULCONBRIDGE. Faul. Oh, I am scalded with my violent motion And spleen of speed to see your majesty ! K. John. O cousin, thou art come to set mine eye: The tackle of my heart is cracked and burned; And all the shrouds, wherewith my life should sail, 25 |