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I left him almost speechless, and broke out
Faulc. How did he take it? who did taste to him?
Hub. A Monk, I tell you; a resolved villain,
Faulc. Who didit thou leave to tend his Majesty.
Hub. Why, know you not the Lords are all come back, And brought Prince Henry in their company; At whose requeft the King hath pardon’d them, And they are all about his Majesty.
Faule. With-hold thine indignation, mighty heav'nl
Is touch'd corruptibly; and his pure brain,
Enter Pembroke. Pemb. His Highness yet doth speak, and holds belief, That, being brought into the open air, It would allay the burning quality Of that fell poison, which affaileth him.
Henry. Let him be brought into the orchard here; Doth he still rage ?
Pemb. He is more patient,
Henry. Oh vanity of fickness ! fierce extreams
Sal. Be of good comfort, Prince ; for you are born.
King John brought in. K. John. Ay, marry, now my soul hath elbow-room It would not out at windows, nor at doors. There is so hot a summer in my bosom, That all my bowels crumble up to dust : I am a scribbled form drawn with a pen Upon a parchment, and againf this fire Do I shrink up.
Henry. How fares your Majesty ? K. John.Poison'd, ill fare! dead, forfook, cartoff; (31) (31). Poison'd, il! fate! ] This is Mr. Pope's reading, on authority that I can find. I have replac'd fare, with the old copies ; and considering how much our Author lov'd and has practis'd the jingle and play on words, Smilar in sound; there is no queition but be intended it here. So, in his Second Part of Henry VI.
Sheriff, fareivel; and better than I fare ; And, in the Third Part of Henry VI.
How now, fair Lords : What fare? What news abroad? Il fate both takes away the antithesis, and makes a very flat insipid exclamation.
And none of you will bid the winter come
Henry. Oh, that there were some virtue in my tears, That might relieve you!
K. John. The salt of them is hot.
K. John. Oh, cousin, thou art come to set mine eye :: The tackle of my heart is crackt and burnt ; And all the frouds, wherewith.my. life Thould sail, Are turned to one thread, one little hair : My heart hath one poor string to. kay it by, Which holds but till thy news be uttered ; And then all this thou seeft, is but a clod, And module of confounded royalt;'.
Faule. The Dauphin is preparing bitherward, Where, heav'n he knows, how we shall answer him.. For, in a night, the best part of my power, As I upon advantage did remove, Were in the washes, all unwarily, Devoured by the unexpected food. (7 be King diess
Sal. You breathe these dead news in as dead an ear: My Liege! my Lord !--but now. a King-now thuş.
Henry. Ev’n so must I run on, and ev'n so stop. What furety of the world, what hope, what stay, When this was now a King, and now is clay!
Faulc. Art thou gone fo? I do but stay behind, To do the office for thee of revenge:
And then my soul Mall wait on thee to heav'n,
Sal. It seems, you know not then so much as we':
Faulc. He will the rather do it, when he sees
Sal. Nay, it is in a manner done already ;
meet, this afternoon will post To consummate this business happily,
Faulc. Let it be so; and you, my noble Prince,
Henry. At Worcester must his body be interr’d,
Faulc. Thither shall it then.
Sal. And the like tender of our love we make,
Henry. I have a kind foul, that would give you thanks, And knows not how to do it, but with tears.
Faulo. Oh, let us pay the time but needful woeg.