Read here, young Arthur. [Showing a paper.]
How now, foolish rheum ! [Aside.
Turning dispiteous torture out of door!
I must be brief; lest resolution drop
Out at mine eyes, in tender womanish tears.-
Can you not read it? is it not fair writ?
Arth. Too fairly, Hubert, for so foul effect: Must you with hot irous burn out both mine eyes ?
Hub. Young boy, I must.
Arth. And will you?
Hub. And I will.
Arth. Have you the heart? When your head did but ake,
I knit my handkerchief about your brows,
(The best I had, a princess wrought it me,)
And I did never ask it you again :
And with my hand at midnight held your head;
And, like the watchful minutes to the hour,
Still and anon cheer'd up the heavy time;
Saying, What lack you? and, Where lies your
grief?
Or, What good love may I perform for you?
Many a poor man's son would have lain still,
And ne'er have spoke a loving word to you;
But you at your sick service had a prince.
Nay, you may think my love was crafty love
And call it cunning: Do, an if you will:
If heaven be pleas'd that you must use me ill,
Why, then you must.-Will you put out mine
eyes?
These eyes, that never did, nor never shall,
So much as frown on you?
Hub. I have sworn to do it;
And with hot irons must I burn them out.
Arth. Ah! none, but in this iron age, would
The iron of itself, though heat red-hot,
Hub. Go, stand within; let me alone with
1 Attend. I am best pleas'd to be from such a deed. [Exeunt ATTENDANTS. Arth. Alas! I then have chid away my friend; He bath a stern look, but a gentle heart :Let him come back, that his compassion may Give life to yours.
Hub. Come, boy, prepare yourself.
Arth. Is there no remedy?
Hub. None, but to lose your eyes.
Arth. O heaven!-that there were but a mote in your's,
A grain, a dust, a gnat, a wand'ring hair,
Any annoyance in that precious sense!
Then, feeling what small things are boist'rous
there,
Your vile intent must needs seem horrible.
Hub. Is this your promise? go to, hold your
tongue.
Arth. Hubert, the utterance of a brace of tongues
Must needs want pleading for a pair of eyes: Let me not hold my tongue; let me not, Hubert!
Or, Hubert, if you will, cut out my tongue,
So I may keep mine eyes; O spare mine eyes;
Though to no use, but still to look on you !
Lo, by my troth, the instrument is cold,
And would not harm me
Hub. I can heat it, boy.
Arth. No, in good sooth; the fire is dead with grief
(Being create for comfort) to be us'd
In undeserv'd extremes: See else yourself;
There is no malice in this burning coal;
The breath of heaven hath blown his spirit out,
And strew'd repentant ashes on his head.
Hub. But with my breath I can revive it, boy.
Arth. And if you do, you will but make it
blush,
And glow with shame of your proceedings, Hubert:
Nay, it, perchance will sparkle in your eyes;
And, like a dog that is compell'd to fight,
Snatch at his master that doth tarre + him on.
All things, that you should use to do me wrong,
Deny their office: only you do lack
That mercy, which fierce fire, and iron, extends,
Creatures of note, for mercy-lacking uses.
Hub. Well, see to live; I will not touch thine
Approaching near these eyes, would drink my For all the treasure that thine uncle owes :
And quench his fiery indignation,
Even in the matter of mine innocence;
Nay, after that, consume away in rust,
But for containing fire to harm mine eye.
Are you more stubborn-hard than hammer'd iron ?
Au if an angel should have confe to me,
And told me Hubert should put out mine eyes,
I would not have believ'd no tongue, but Hu-
bert's.
Hub. Come forth.
Re-enter ATTENDANTS, with Cord, Irons, &c.
Do as I bid you do.
Arth. O save ine, Hubert, save me! my eyes
are out,
Yet am I sworn, and I did purpose, boy,
With this same very iron to burn them out.
Arth. O now you look like Hubert! all this
while
Even with the fierce looks of these bloody men. SCENE II.-The same.-A Room of State in Hub. Give me the iron, I say, and bind him
Arth. Alas, what need you be so boist'rous- Enter King John, crowned; PEMBOKE, SALIS
I will not struggle, I will stand stone still.
heaven's sake, Hubert, let me not be
BURY, and other Lords. The King takes his State.
K. John. Here once again we sit, once again crown'd,
Nay, bear me, Hubert! drive these men away, And look'd upon, I hope, with cheerful eyes.
And that high royalty was ne'er pluck'd off:
The faiths of men ne'er stained with revolt;
Fresh expectation troubled not the land,
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 tiine 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,
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.
Sol. The colour 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
band :-
Good lords, although my will to give is living,
The suit which you demand "is
dead:
It makes the course of thoughts to fetch He tells us, Arthur is deceas'd to night.
And more, more strong, (when lesser is my fear,)
I shall indue you with: Mean time, 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 re-
straint
Doth move the murmuring lips of discontent
To break into this daugerous argument,-
If, what in rest you have, in right you hold,
Why then your fears, (which, as they say, at-
tend
The steps of wrong,) should move you to mew
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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 solema
brows ou me ?
Think you I bear the shears of destiny?
Have I commandinent 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 breath of all this
isle,
Three foot of it doth hold; Bad world the
while!
This
must not be thus borne: this will break
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A fearful eye thou hast; Where is that blood,
That I bave seen inhabit in those cheeks !
So foul a sky clears not without a stormn:
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 learn'd by them; For, when you should be told they do prepare, The tidings come, that they are all arriv'd.
K. John. On! where hath our intelligence
Where hath it slept? Where is my mother's care?
That such an army could be drawn in France, And she not hear of it?
Mess. 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 rumour's tongue
I idly heard; if true or false, I know not. K. John. Withhold thy speed, dreadful ofcasion!
To your direction.-Hubert, what news with Oh! make a league with me, till I have
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 (world
With these ill tidings.-Now, what says the
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
Under the tide: but now I breathe again [amaz'd
Aloft the flood; and can give audience
To any tongue, speak it of what it will.
Bast. How I have sped among the
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
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
thon so?
Peter. Foreknowing that the truth will fall
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 kinsmen, go,
And thrust thyself into their companies:
I have a way to win their loves again;
Bring them before ine.
Bast. I will seek them out.
K. John. Nay, but make haste; the better
foot before.—
O let me have no subject enemies,
When adverse foreigners affright my towns
With dreadful pomp of stout invasion I-
Be Mercury, set feathers to thy heels;
And fly, like thought, from them to me again.
Bast. The spirit of the time shall teach me
speed.
[Exit.
K. John. Spoke like a spriteful noble gen-
Go after him; for he, perhaps, shall need
Some messenger betwixt me and the peers;
And be thou be.
Mess, With all my heart, my liege.
K. John. My mother dead!
Re-enter HUBERT.
Whilst he that bears, 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 baste
Had falsely thrust upon contrary feet,)
Told of a many thousand warlike French,
That were embaiteled 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?
[hin.
Thy hand hath murder'd him: I had mighty
To wish him dead, but thou hadst none to kill Hub. Had none, my lord! why, did you not provoke met
K. John. It is the curse of kings, to be at
[rant
By slaves, that take their humours for a war.
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 haud 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! 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 aspect,
Finding thee fit for bloody villany,
Apt, liable, to be employ'd in danger,
I faintly broke with thee of Arthu.'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
(in me :
And those thy fears might have wronght fears
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 beld vile to
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, I
This kingdom, this confine of blood and breath,
[death.
Hostility and civil tumult reigns
Between my conscience and my cousin's
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 inuocent haud,
were Not painted with the crimson spots of blood.
Within this bosom never euter'd yet
Hab. Old men, and beldams, in the streets
D prophecy upon it dangerously: [mouths
Young Arthur's death is common in their
And when they talk of him, they shake their
And whisper one another in the ear; (heads,
And be, that speaks, doth gripe the hearer's
wrist;
The dreadful motion of a murd'rous thought,
And you have slandered 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. Before the Castle. Enter ARTHUR, on the Walls.
SCENE III.-The same.
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 bath disguis'd me
I am afraid; and yet I'll venture it. [quite.
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 stonesHeaven take my soul, and England keep my bones! [Dies.
Enter PEMBROKE, SALISBURY, and Bigor. 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. [dinal?
Pem. Who brought that letter from the car-
Sal. The count Melun, a noble lord of
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.
Of murder's arms: this is the bloodiest shame,
The wildest savaga'ry, the vilest stroke,
That ever wall-ey'd wrath, or staring rage,
Presented to the tears of soft remorse..
Pem. All murders past do stand excus'd in
And this, so sole, and so unmatchable, (this :
Shall give a holiness, a purity,
To the yet-unbegotten sin of time;
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 haud,
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.
Hub. Lords, I am hot with haste in seeking
Arthur doth live; the king hath sent for you. Sal, Oh! 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 sheath it in a murderer's skin. Hub. Stand back, lord Salisbury, stand back, I say; [your's By heaven, I think my sword's as sharp as I would not have you, lord, forget yourself, Bast. Once more to-day well met, distein-Nor tempt the danger of my true defence; per'd + lords! Lest I, by marking of your rage, forget Your worth, your greatness, and nobility. Big. Out, dunghill! dar'st thou brave a
[straight. requests your presence 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-e'er it walks:
Return and tell him so; we know the worst. Bast. Whate'er you think, good words, think, were best. [now. Sal. Our griefs, and not our manners, reason Bast. But there is little reason in your grief; Therefore, 'twere reason you had manners
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. Pam. O death, made proud with pure and princely beauty!
The earth had not a hole to hide this deed.
Sal. Murder, as hating what himself hath
Doth lay it open, to urge on revenge. [done,
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
Form such another? This is the very top, The height, the crest, or crest unto the crest,
Bast. Thou wert better gall the devil, Sahsbury:
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 be-
time;
Or I'll so maul you and your toasting-iron,
That you shall think the devil is come from befl.
Big. What wilt thou do, renowned Faulcon-
bridge?
Second a villain, and a murderer?
Hub. Lord Bigot, I am none.
Big. Who kill'd this prince?
Hub. 'Tis not an hour since I left him well:
I honour'd him, I lov'd him; and will weep
My date of life out, for his sweet life's loss.
Sal. Trust not those cunning waters of his
For villany is not without such rheum;
And he long traded in it, makes it seem
• Pity. Hand should be head; a glory is the eircle of rays which surrounds the heads of sints in pictures. By compelling me to kill you.
Pem. There, tell the king, he may inquire us [Exeunt LORDS. Bast. Here's a good world!-Knew you of this fair work?
Beyond the intinite and boundless reach
of mercy, if thou didst this deed of death,
Art thou damn'd, Hubert.
Hub, Do but bear me, Sir.
Bast. Ha! I'll tell thee what;
Thou art damn'd as black-nay, nothing is so black;
Thou art more deep damn'd than prince Lucifer :
There is not yet so ugly a fiend of bell
As thou shalt be, if thou didst kill this child.
Hub. Upon my soul,-
Bast. If thou didst but consent
To this most cruel act, do but despair,
And, if thou want'st a cord, the smallest thread
That ever spider twisted from her womb
Will serve to strangle thee; a rush will be
A beam to hang thee on; or would'st
drown thyself,
Put but a little water in a spoon,
And it shall be as all the ocean,
Enough to stifle such a villain up.-
I do suspect thee very grievously.
Hub. If I in act, consent, or sin of thought, Be guilty of the stealing that sweet breath Which was embounded in this beauteous clay, Let bell want paías enough to torture me! 1 left bit well.
Bast. Go, bear him in thine arms.-
! am amazó, methinks; and lose my way
Among the thorns and dangers of this world.-
How easy dost thou take all England up!
From forth this morsel of dead royalty,
The life, the right, and truth of all this realm
Is fled to heaven; and England now is left
To tug and scramble, and to part by the teeth
The unowed interest of proud-swelling state.
Now, for the bare-pick'd bone of majesty,
Doth dogged war bristle his angry crest,
And snarleth in the gentle eyes of peace:
Now powers from home, and discontents
home,
Meet in one line; and vast confusion waits
(As doth a raven on a sick-fallen beast,)
The imminent decay of wrested pomp.
Now happy he, whose cloak and cincture + can
Hold out this tempest. Bear away that child,
And follow me with speed; I'll to the king:
A thousand businesses are brief in hand,
And heaven itself doth frown upon the land.
Swearing allegiance and the love of soul,
To stranger blood, to foreign royalty.
This inundation of mistemper'd humour
Rests by you only to be qualified.
Then pause not; for the present time's so sick,
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 :
But, since you are a gentle convertite,
My tongue shall hush again this storm of war,
And make fair weather in your blustering laud.
On this Ascension-day, remember well,
Upon your oath of service to the pope,
Go I to make the French lay down their arms.
[Exit.
K. John. Is this Ascension-day? Did not the prophet t
Say, that, before Ascension-day at noon,
My crown I should give off? Even so I have:
I did suppose, it should be on constraint;
But, heaven be thank'd it is but voluntary.
Bast. All Kent hath yielded; nothing there holds out,
But Dover castle: London hath receiv'd,
Like a kind host, the Dauphin and his powers:
Your nobles will not hear you, but are gone
To offer service to your enemy;
And wild amazement hurries up and down
The little number of your doubtful friends.
K. John. Would not my lords return to me
again,
After they heard young Arthur was alive?
Bast. They found him dead, and cast into
the streets;
An empty casket, where the jewel of life
By some damn'd hand was robb'd and ta'en away.
K. John. That villain Hubert told me he did live.
Bast. So, on my soul, he did, for aught he
But wherefore do you droop? why look you sad?
Be great in act, as you have been in thought;
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;
at 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?
SCENE I.-The same-A Room in the Palace.
Enter King JoHN, PANDULPH with the Crown, and Attendants.
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;
with me,
And he hath promis'd to dismiss the powers
Led by the Dauphin.
Bast. O inglorious league!
Shall we, upon the footing of our land,
K. John Thus have I yielded up into your Send fair-play orders, and make compromise
Pand. Take again [Giving JOHN the Crown. From this my hand, as holding of the pope, Your sovereign greatness and authority. K. John. Now keep your holy word: go meet
Arad from His Holiness use all your power I stop their marches, 'fore we are inflam'd. ear descontented counties do revolt; as people quarrel with obedience;
Insinuation, parley, and base truce,
To arms invasive ? shall a beardless boy,
And flesh his spirit in a warlike soil,
A cocker'd ‡ silken wanton brave our fields
Mocking the air with colours idly spread,
Perchance, the cardinal cannot make your
And find no check? Let us, my liege, to arms:
peace!
Or if he do, let it at least be said
They saw we had a purpose of defence.
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