To souse annoyance that comes near his nest. To fierce and bloody inclination. 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 mock the deep-mouth'd thunder: for at hand, 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. 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. Mel. Lead me to the revolts of England here. Sal. Wounded to death. Mel. Fly, noble English, you are bought and sold; And welcome home again discarded faith. Sal. May this be possible? may this be true? Retaining but a quantity of life, Which bleeds away, even as a form of wax 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? SCENE V.] KING JOHN. I say again, if Lewis do win the day, yours But even this night, whose black contagious breath Even this ill night, your breathing shall expire, Even with a treacherous fine of all your lives, Sal. We do believe thee: and beshrew my soul Leaving our rankness and irregular course, Stoop low within those bounds we have o'erlook'd Even to our ocean, to our great King John. My arm shall give thee help to bear thee hence; New flight; 60 Right in thine eye. Away, my friends! [Exeunt, leading off Melun. SCENE V. The French camp. Enter LEWIS and his train. Lew. The sun of heaven methought was loath to set, Enter a Messenger. Mess. Where is my prince, the Dauphin? 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? 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 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. Bast. 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? Bast. 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: Bast. How did he take it? who did taste to him? 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, 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 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. |