Muft 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 fpare mine eyes!
Though to no ufe, but ftill 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 footh, the fire is dead with grief, Being create for comfort, to be us'd

In undeferv'd extreams; fee elfe your felf,
There is no malice in this burning coal;
The breath of heav'n hath blown its fpirit out,
And ftrew'd repentant ashes on its 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 fhame of your proceedings, Hubert:
Nay, it, perchance, will fparkle in your eyes:
And like a dog, that is compell'd to fight,
Snatch at his mafter that doth tarre him on.
All things, that you should ufe to do me wrong,
Deny their office; only you do lack

That mercy which fierce fire and iron extend,
Creatures of note for mercy-lacking uses.

Hub. Well, fee to live; I will not touch thine eye,

For all the treasure that thine uncle owns :

Yet am I fworn; and I did purpose, boy,

With this fame very iron to burn them out.

Arth. O, now you look like Hubert. All this while You were disguised.

Hub. Peace: no more. Adieu,

Your uncle muft not know but you are dead.
I'll fill these dogged fpies with false reports:
And, pretty child, fleep doubtlefs, and fecure,
That Hubert, for the wealth of all the world,
Will not offend thee.

Arth. O heav'n! I thank

you, Hubert.

Hub. Silence, no more; go clofely in with me. Much danger do I undergo for thee.

[Exeunt.

SCENE

SCENE changes to the Court of England.

Enter King John, Pembroke, Salisbury, and other Lords

K. John. HEI

ERE once again we fit, once again crown'd,

And look'd upon, I hope, with chearful eyes.

Pemb. This once again, but that your highness pleas'd,
Was once fuperfluous; you were crown'd before,
And that high royalty was ne'er pluck'd off:

The faiths of men ne'er ftained with revolt:
Fresh expectation troubled not the land
With any long'd-for change, or better state.

Sal. Therefore to be poffefs'd with double pomp,
To guard a title that was rich before;
To gild refined gold, to paint the lilly,
To throw a perfume on the violet,
To fmooth the ice, or add another hue
Unto the rainbow, or with taper-light

To feek the beauteous eye of heav'n to garnish,
Is wafteful and ridiculous excefs.

Pemb. 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 time unfeasonable.

Sal. In this the antique and well-noted face
Of plain old form is much disfigured;
And, like a fhifted wind unto a fail,

It makes the course of thoughts to fetch about;
Startles and frights confideration;

Makes found opinion fick, and truth fufpected,

For putting on fo new a fashion'd robe.

Pemb. When workmen ftrive to do better than well, They do confound their skill in covetousness; (15) And oftentimes excufing of a fault

(15) They do confound their Skill in Covetoufnefs.] i. e. Not by their Avarice, but in an eager Emulation, an intense Defire of excelling; as in Henry V.

But if it be a Sin to covet Honour,

I am the moft offending Soul alive.

R 4

Doth

Doth make the fault the worse by the excufe:
As patches, fet upon a little breach,
Difcredit more in hiding of the fault,

Than did the fault before it was fo patch'd.

Sal. To this effect, before you were new-crown'd, We breath'd our counfel; but it pleas'd your highness To over-bear it; and we're all well pleas'd; Since all and every part of what we would, Muft make a stand at what your highness will.

K. John. Some reasons of this double coronation I have poffeft you with, and think them strong. And more, more ftrong (the leffer is my fear) I fhall endue you with: mean time, but ask What you would have reform'd, that is not well, And well fhall you perceive how willingly I will both hear and grant you your requests. Pemb. Then I, as one that am the tongue of these, To found the purposes of all their hearts, (Both for myself and them; but chief of all, Your fafety; for the which, myself and they Bend their best ftudies;) heartily request Th' infranchisement of Arthur; whofe reftraint Doth move the murm'ring lips of discontent To break into this dang'rous argument; If what in rest you have, in right you hold, Why fhou'd your fears, (which, as they fay, attend The fteps of wrong) then move you to mew up Your tender kinfman, and to choke his days With barb'rous ignorance, and deny his youth The rich advantage of good exercise ? That the time's enemies may not have this Το grace occafions, let it be our fuit, That you have bid us ask his liberty; Which for our good we do no further ask, Than whereupon our weal, on you depending, Counts it your weal, that he have liberty.

Enter Hubert.

K. John. Let it be fo; I do commit his youth To your direction. Hubert, what news with you?

Pemb.

Pemb. This is the man, should do the bloody deed:
He fhew'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 fhew the mood of a much-troubled breast.
And I do fearfully believe 'tis done,
What we fo fear'd he had a charge to do.

Sal. The colour of the King doth come and go,
Between his purpose and his confcience,

Like heralds 'twixt two dreadful battles fent: (16)
His paffion is fo ripe, it needs must break.

Pemb. And when it breaks, I fear, will iffue thence The foul corruption of a fweet child's death.

K. John. We cannot hold mortality's ftrong hand.
Good lords, although my will to give is living,
The fuit which you demand is gone, and dead.
He tells us, Arthur is deceas'd to night.

Sal. Indeed, we fear'd, his fickness was paft cure. Pemb. Indeed, we heard how near his death he was, Before the child himself felt he was fick.

This must be anfwer'd, either here, or hence.

K. John. Why do you bend fuch folemn brows on me? Think you, I bear the fhears of destiny? Have I commandment on the pulfe of life? Sal. It is apparent foul-play, and 'tis fhame

That greatnefs fhould fo grofly offer it:

So thrive it in your game, and fo farewel!

Pemb. Stay yet, lord Salisbury, I'll go with thee,
And find th' inheritance of this poor child,
His little kingdom of a forced grave.

That blood, which own'd the breadth of all this isle,
Three foot of it doth hold; bad world the while!
This must not be thus borne; this will break out
To all our forrows, and ere long, I doubt.

[Exeunt.

(16) Like Heralds, 'twixt two dreadful Battles fet ;] But Heralds are not planted, 1 prefume, in the midft betwixt two Lines of Battle; tho' they, and Trumpets, are often fent over from Party to Party, to propofe Terms, demand a Parley, &c. I have therefore ventur'd to read, sent,

Enter a Messenger.

K. John. They burn in indignation; I repent.
There is no fure foundation fet on blood;
No certain life atchiev'd by others' death-

[Afide.

A fearful eye thou haft; where is that blood, [To the Mef That I have feen inhabit in those cheeks?

So foul a sky clears not without a storm;

Pour down thy weather: how goes all in France? Mef. From France to England never such a power, For any foreign preparation,

Was levy'd 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 tydings come, that they are all arriv❜d.

K. John. O, where hath our intelligence been drunk?
Where hath it flept? where is my mother's care?
That fuch an army fhould be drawn in France,
And the not hear of it?

Mef. My Liege, her ear

Is ftopt with duft: the first of April, dy'd
Your noble mother; and, as I hear, my lord,
The lady Conftance in a frenzie dy'd

Three days before: but this from rumour's tongue
I idlely heard; if true or falfe, I know not.

K. John. With-hold thy fpeed, dreadful occafion!
O make a league with me, till I have pleas'd
My difcontented peers. What! mother dead?
How wildly then walks my eftate in France?
Under whofe conduct came thofe powers of France,
That, thou for truth giv'ft out, are landed here?
Mef. Under the Dauphin.

Enter Faulconbridge, and Peter of Pomfret.
K. John. Thou haft made me giddy

With these ill tidings. Now, what fays the world
To your proceedings? Do not feek to stuff
My head with more ill news, for it is full.

Faul. But if you be afraid to hear the worst,
Then let the worst unheard fall on your head.

K. John,