Abbildungen der Seite
PDF
EPUB
[blocks in formation]

To souse annoyance that comes near his nest.
And you degenerate, you ingrate revolts,
You bloody Neroes, ripping up the womb
Of your dear mother England, blush for shame;
For your own ladies and pale-visaged maids
Like Amazons come tripping after drums,
Their thimbles into armed gauntlets change.
Their needles to lances, and their gentle hearts

To fierce and bloody inclination.

[blocks in formation]

160

Lew. There end thy brave, and turn thy face in peace; We grant thou canst outscold us: fare thee well; We hold our time too precious to be spent

With such a brabbler.

Pund.

Give me leave to speak.

We will attend to neither.

Bast. No, I will speak.

Lew.

Strike up the drums; and let the tongue of war

Plead for our interest and our being here.

Bast. Indeed, your drums, being beaten, will cry out; And so shall you, being beaten: do but start

An echo with the clamour of thy drum,
And even at hand a drum is ready braced
That shall reverberate all as loud as thine;
Sound but another, and another shall
As loud as thing rattle the welkin's ear

And mock the deep-mouth'd thunder: for at hand,
Not trusting to this halting legate here,

Whom he hath used rather for sport than need,

Is warlike John; and in his forehead sits

A bare-ribb'd death, whose office is this day

To feast upon whole thousands of the French.

170

Lew. Strike up our drums, to find this danger out. 179 Bast. And thou shalt find it, Dauphin, do not doubt.

SCENE III. The field of battle.

Alarums. Enter KING JOHN and HUBERT.

[Exeunt.

K. John. How goes the day with us? O, tell me, Hubert. Hub. Badly, I fear. How fares your majesty?

K. John. This fever, that hath troubled me so long,

Lies heavy on me; O, my heart is sick!

Enter a Messenger.

Mess. My lord, your valiant kinsman, Faulconbridge, Desires your majesty to leave the field

And send him word by me which way you go.

10

K. John. Tell him, toward Swinstead, to the abbey there. Mess. Be of good comfort; for the great supply That was expected by the Dauphin here, Are wreck'd three nights ago on Goodwin Sands. This news was brought to Richard but even now: The French fight coldly, and retire themselves. K. John. Ay me! this tyrant fever burns me up, And will not let me welcome this good news. Set on toward Swinstead: to my litter straight; Weakness possesseth me, and I am faint.

SCENE IV. Another part of the field.

Enter SALISBURY, PEMBROKE, and BIGOT.

[Exeunt.

Sal. I did not think the king so stored with friends.
Pem. Up once again; put spirit in the French:

If they miscarry, we miscarry too.

Sul. That misbegotten devil, Faulconbridge,

In spite of spite, alone upholds the day.

Pem. They say King John sore sick hath left the field.
Enter MELUN, wounded.

Mel. Lead me to the revolts of England here.
Sal. When we were happy we had other names.
Pem. It is the Count Melun.

Sal.

Wounded to death.

Mel. Fly, noble English, you are bought and sold;
Unthread the rude eye of rebellion

And welcome home again discarded faith.
Seek out King John and fall before his feet;
For if the French be lords of this loud day,
He means to recompense the pains you take
By cutting off your heads: thus hath he sworn
And I with him, and many moe with me,
Upon the altar at Saint Edmundsbury;
Even on that altar where we swore to you
Dear amity and everlasting love.

Sal. May this be possible? may this be true?
Mel. Have I not hideous death within my view,

Retaining but a quantity of life,

Which bleeds away, even as a form of wax
Resolveth from his figure 'gainst the fire?

What in the world should make me now deceive,

Since I must lose the use of all deceit?

Why should I then be false, since it is true

That I must die here and live hence by truth?

[merged small][ocr errors]

SCENE V.]

KING JOHN.

I say again, if Lewis do win the day,
He is forsworn, if e'er those eyes of
Behold another day break in the east:

yours

But even this night, whose black contagious breath
Aiready smokes about the burning crest
Of the old, feeble and day-wearied sun,

Even this ill night, your breathing shall expire,
Paying the fine of rated treachery

Even with a treacherous fine of all your lives,
If Lewis by your assistance win the day.
Commend me to one Hubert with your king:
The love of him and this respect besides,
For that my grandsire was an Englishman,
Awakes my conscience to confess all this.
In lieu whereof, I pray you, bear me hence
From forth the noise and rumour of the field,
Where I may think the remnant of my thoughts
In peace, and part this body and my soul
With contemplation and devout desires.

Sal. We do believe thee: and beshrew my soul
But I do love the favour and the form
Of this most fair occasion, by the which
We will untread the steps of damned flight,
And like a bated and retired flood,

Leaving our rankness and irregular course,

Stoop low within those bounds we have o'erlook'd
And calmly run on in obedience

Even to our ocean, to our great King John.

My arm shall give thee help to bear thee hence;
For I do see the cruel pangs of death

[merged small][ocr errors][merged small][merged small][merged small]

New flight; 60

Right in thine eye. Away, my friends!
And happy newness, that intends old right.

[Exeunt, leading off Melun.

SCENE V. The French camp.

Enter LEWIS and his train.

Lew. The sun of heaven methought was loath to set,
But stay'd and made the western welkin blush,
When English measure backward their own ground
In faint retire. O, bravely came we off,
When with a volley of our needless shot,
After such bloody toil, we bid good night;
And wound our tattering colors clearly up,
Last in the field, and almost lords of it!

Enter a Messenger.

Mess. Where is my prince, the Dauphin?
Lew.

Here: what news?

Mess. The Count Melun is slain: the English lords By his persuasion are again fall'n off,

And your supply, which you have wish'd so long,

Are cast away and sunk on Goodwin Sands.

Lew. Ah, foul shrewd news! beshrew thy very heart!

I did not think to be so sad to-night

As this hath made me. Who was he that said

King John did fly an hour or two before

The stumbling night did part our weary powers?
Mess. Whoever spoke it, it is true, my lord.

Lew. Well; keep good quarter and good care to-night:

The day shall not be up so soon as I,

To try the fair adventure of to-morrow.

10

21

[Exeunt.

SCENE VI. An open place in the neighborhood of Swinstead

[ocr errors][merged small][merged small]

Hub. Who's there? speak, ho! speak quickly, or I shoot. Bast. A friend. What art thou?

Hub.

Bast. Whither dost thou go?

Of the part of England.

Hub. What's that to thee? why may not I demand Of thine affairs, as well as thou of mine?

Bast. Hubert, I think?

Hub.

Thou hast a perfect thought:

I will upon all hazards well believe

Thou art my friend, that know'st my tongue so well.
Who art thou?

Bast.
Who thou wilt: and if thou please,
Thou mayst befriend me so much as to think
I come one way of the Plantagenets.

[ocr errors]

Hub. Unkind remembrance! thou and eyeless night Have done me shame: brave soldier, pardon me,

That any accent breaking from thy tongue

Should 'scape the true acquaintance of mine car.

10

Bast. Come, come; sans compliment, what news abroad?
Hub. Why, here walk I in the black brow of night,
To find you out.

Bast.
Brief, then; and what's the news?
Hub. O, my sweet sir, news fitting to the night,
Black, fearful, comfortless and horrible.

20

Bast. Show me the very wound of this ill news: I am no woman, I'll not swoon at it.

Hub. The king, I fear, is poison'd by a monk:
I left him almost speechless; and broke out
To acquaint you with this evil, that you might
The better arm you to the sudden time,
Than if you had at leisure known of this.

Bast. How did he take it? who did taste to him?
Hub. A monk, I tell you; a resolved villain,
Whose bowels suddenly burst out: the king
Yet speaks and peradventure may recover.

Bast. Who didst thou leave to tend his majesty?

30

Hub. Why, know you not? the lords are all come back, And brought Prince Henry in their company;

At whose request the king hath pardon'd them,

And they are all about his majesty.

Bast. Withhold thine indignation, mighty heaven,
And tempt us not to bear above our power!
I'll tell thee, Hubert, half my power this night,
Passing these flats, are taken by the tide;
These Lincoln Washes have devoured them;
Myself, well mounted, hardly have escaped.
Away before: conduct me to the king;
I doubt he will be dead or ere I come.

40

[Exeunt.

SCENE VII. The orchard in Swinstead Abbey.

Enter Prince HENRY, SALISBURY, and BIGOT.

P. Hen. It is too late: the life of all his blood
Is touch'd corruptibly, and his pure brain,
Which some suppose the soul's frail dwelling-house,
Doth by the idle comments that it makes
Foretell the ending of mortality.

Enter PEMBROKE.

Pem. 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 assaileth him.

P. Hen. Let him be brought into the orchard here. Doth he still rage?

10

[Exit Bigot.

Pem.
He is more patient
Than when you left him; even now he sung.
P. IIen. O vanity of sickness! fierce extremes
In their continuance will not feel themselves.
Death, having prey'd upon the outward parts,
Leaves them invisible, and his siege is now
Against the mind, the which he pricks und wounds
SHAK. II.-3

« ZurückWeiter »