Enter Arthur.

Arth. Good morrow, Hubert.
Hub. Good morrow, little prince.

Arth. As little prince (having so great a title
To be more prince) as may be.-You are sad.
Hub. Indeed, I have been merrier.
Arth. Mercy on me!

Methinks, nobody should be sad, but I:
Yet, I remember, when I was in France,
Young gentlemen would be as sad as night,
Only for wantonness. By my christendom,
So I were out of prison, and kept sheep,
I should be as merry as the day is long;
And so I would be here, but that I doubt
My uncle practises more harm to me:
He is afraid of me, and I of him:

Is it my fault that I was Geffrey's son?
No, indeed, is't not; And I would to heaven,
I were your son, so you would love me, Hubert.
Hub. If I talk to him, with his innocent prate,
He will awake my mercy, which lies dead:
Therefore I will be sudden, and dispatch. [Aside
Arth. Are you sick, Hubert? you look pale
to-day:

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'diron?

5 An if an angel should have come to me,
And told me, Hubert should put out mine eyes,
I would not have believ'd him; no tongue, but
Hubert's. [Hubert stamps, and the men enter.
Hub. Come forth; do as I bid you do.
10 Arth. O, save me, Hubert, save me! my eyes
are out,

Even with the fierce looks of these bloody men.
Hub. Give me the iron, I say, and bind him here.
Arth. Alas, what need you be so beistrous-rough?
151 will not struggle, I will stand stone-still.
For heaven's sake, Hubert, let me not be bound!
Nay, hear me, Hubert! drive these men away,
And I will sit as quiet as a lamb ;

I will not stir, nor wince, nor speak a word,
20 Nor look upon the iron angerly:
Thrust but these men away, and I'll forgive you,
Whatever torment you do put me to.

25

En sooth, I would you were a little sick;
That I might sit all night, and watch with you:
I warrant, I love you more than you do me.
Hub. Hiswords do take possession of my bosom.-
Read here, young.
Arthur- [Shewing a paper.
How now, foolish rheum!
[Aside. 30
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 irons burn out both mine eyes :
Hub. Young boy, I must.

Arth. And will you?

Hub. And I will.

Hub. Go, stand within; let me alone with him.
Exec. I am best pleas'd to be from such a deed.
[Exeunt.
Arth. Alas, I then have chid-away my friend;
He hath 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. [in your
Arth. O heaven!-that there were but a mote

A grain, a dust, a gnat, a wandering hair,

35 Any annoyance in that precious sense!
Then, feeling what small things are boistrous there,
Your vile intent must needs seem horrible.
Hub. Is this your promise? go to, hold your
tongue.

Arth. Have you the heart? When your head 40 Arth. Hubert, the utterance of a brace of tongues

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 anor chear'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 pleased 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. Ay, none, but in this iron age, would do it! The iron of itself, though heat red hot, Approaching near these eyes, would drink my tears, And quench his fiery indignation,

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:
45 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.

{grief

Arth. No, in good sooth; the fire is dead with
50 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.

55

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,
60 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.

Hub. Well, see to live: I will not touch thine eye
For all the treasure that thine uncle owes* ;
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 5
You were disguised.
[while
Adieu;

Hub. Peace: no more.
Your uncle must not know but you are dead:
I'll fill these dogged spies with false reports.
And, pretty child, sleep doubtless, and secure,
That Hubert, for the wealth of all the world,
Will not offend thee.

Arth. O heaven !—I thank you, Hubert.
Hub. Silence; no more: Go closely in with me;
Much danger do I undergo for thee.

SCENE II.

The Court of England.

[Exeunt.

Enter King John, Pembroke, Salisbury, and other lords.

I have possess'd you with, and think them strong;
And more, more strong (when lesser is my fear)
I shall endue 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.
Pemb. 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,
10 Your safety, for the which myself and them
Bead their best studies) heartily request
The enfranchisement of Arthur; whose restraint
Doth move the murmuring lips of discontent
To break into this dangerous argument:-
If, what in rest you have, in right you hold,
Why then your fears (which, as they say, attend
The steps of wrong) should move you to mew up
Your tender kinsman, and to choak his days
With barbarous ignorance, and deny his youth
The rich advantage of good exercise?
That the time's enemies may not have this
To grace occasions, let it be our suit,
That you have bid us ask his liberty;
Which for our goods we do no further ask,
Than whereupon our weal, on you depending,
Counts it your weal, he have his liberty.

15

K. John. Here once again we sit, once again 20 crown'd,

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

Pemb. This once again, but that your highness
pleas'd,

Was once superfluous: you were crown'd before, 25
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, 30
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.

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 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,

It makes the course of thoughts to fetch about;
Startles and frights consideration;
Makes sound opinion sick, and truth suspected,
For putting on so new a fashion'd robe.

[well,

Pemb. When workmen strive to do better than They do confound their skill in covetousness? : And, oftentimes, excusing of a fault

As patches, set upon a little breach,

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

Doth make the fault the worse by the excuse;

Discredit more in hiding of the fault,

Sal. To this effect, before you were new-crown'd,
We breath'dour counsel: butit pleas'd yourhighness
To over-bear it; and we are all well pleas'd;
Since all and every part of what we would,
Must make a stand at what your highness will.
K. John. Some reasons of this double coronation

To guard, is to fringe.

K. John. Let it be so; I do commit his youth
Enter Hubert.

To your direction.-Hubert, what news with you?
Pemb. This is the man should do the bloody
deed;

He shew'd his warrant to a friend of mine:
The image of a wicked heinous fault
Lives in his eye: that close aspect of his
35 Does shew 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.

Sal. The colour of the king doth come and go,
Between his purpose and his conscience',
40 Like heralds 'twixt two dreadful battles set":
His passion is so ripe, it needs must break.
Pemb. And, when it breaks, I fear will issue
thence

45

50

55

Think you, I bear the shears of destiny?
Have I commandment on the pulse of life?

Sul. It is apparent foul-play; and 'tis shame,
60 That greatness should so grossly offer it:-
So thrive it in your game! and so farewel.

* i. e. owns. i. e. not by their avarice, but in an eager emulation, an intense desire of excelling. 1. e. to declare, to publish. 1. e. to declare, to publish. i. e. between his consciousness of guilt, and his design to conceal it by fair professions, i. e. placed.

Pemr

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

: That blood, which ow'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 sorrows, and ere long, I doubt. [Exeunt.
K. John. They burn in indignation; I repent:
There is no sure foundation set on blood;
No certain life atchiev'd by others' death.-
Enter a Messenger.

A fearful eye thou hast; where is that blood,
That I have seen inhabit in those cheeks?
So foul a sky clears not without a storm:
Pour down thy weather:--How goes all in France?
Mes. Froni France to England.-Never such a
From any foreign preparation,
[power
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 tidings come,that they are all arriv'd. [drunk?
K. John. O, where hath our intelligence been
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?

Mes. My liege, her ear

Is stopt with dust; the first of April, dy'd
Your noble mother: And, as I hear, my lord,
The lady Constance in a frenzy dy'd

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 occasion!
O, make a league with me, till I have pleas'd
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?
Mes. Under the Dauphin.

Enter Faulconbridge and Peter of Pomfret.
K. John. Thou hast made me giddy
With these ill tidings.-Now, what says the world
To your proceedings? do not seek to stuff
My head with more ill news, for it is full.

Faule. But it you be aleard to hear the worst,
Then let the worst, unheard, fall on your head.
K. John. Bear with me, cousin; for I was amaz'd
Under the tide: but now I breathe again
Aloft the flood; and can give audience
To any tongue, speak it of what it will.

5

K. John. Thou idle dreamer, wherefore didst thou say so?

[80.

Peter. Fore-knowing that the truth will fall out
K.John. Hubert, away with him; imprison him;
And on that day at noon, whereon, he says,
I shall yield up my crown, let him be hang'd:
Deliver him to safety1, and return,

For I must use thee.-O my gentle cousin,
[Exit Hubert, with Peter.
10 Hear'st thou the news abroad, who are arriv❜d?
Faule. The French, my lord; men's mouths
are full of it:

Besides, I net lord Bigot, and lord Salisbury,
(With eyes as red as new-enkindled fire)
15 And others more, going to seek the grave
Of Arthur, who, they say, is kill'd to-night
On your suggestion.

K. John. Gentle kinsman, go,
And thrust thyself into their companies:
20I have a way to win their loves again;
Bring them before me.

Faulc. I will seek them out.

[before.K. John. Nay, but make haste; the better foot O, let me have no subject enemies,

23 When adverse foreigners affright my towns
With dreadful pomp of stout invasion!
Be Mercury, set feathers to thy heels;
And fly, like thought, from them to me again.
Faulc. The spirit of the time shall teach me speed.
[Exit.
K.John.Spokelikea sprightful noble gentleman.
Go after him; for he, perhaps, shall need
Some messenger betwixt me and the peers;
And be thou he.

30

[Exit.

[to-night:

Hub. My lord, they say, five moons were seen Four fixed; and the fifth did whirl about 40 The other, four, in wondrous motion.

45

K. John. Five moons?

Hub. Old men, and beldams, in the streets
Do prophesy upon it dangerously:
Young Arthur's death is common in their mouths:
And when they talk of him they shake their heads,
And whisper one another in the ear;

And he, that speaks, doth gripe the hearer's wrist;
Winst he, that hears, makes fearful action
With wrinkled brows, with nods, with rolling eyes.
50I saw a smith stand with his hammer, thus,
The whilst his iron did on the anvil cool,
With open mouth swallowing a taylor's news;
Who, with his shears and measure in his hand,
Standing on slippers (which his nimble haste
55 Had falsely thrust upon contrary feet')
Told of a many thousand warlike French,
That were embatteled and rank'd in Kent:
Another lean unwash'd artificer

Faule. How I have sped among the clergymen,
The swins I have collected shail express.
But, as I-travell'd hither through the land,
I find the people strangely fantasy'd;
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 I found
With many hundreds treading on his heels;
To whom he sung in rude harsh-sounding rhimes, 60
That, ere the next Ascension-day at noon,
Your highness should deliver up your crown.

Cuts off his tale, and talks of Arthur's death,
X. John. Why seek'st thou to possess me with

these fears?

Why urgest thou so oft young Arthur's death?

1i. e. into custody, 2 From this we are to infer, that some shoes of those times could only be worn on that foot for which they were inade...

Thy

Thy hand hath murder'd him: I had a mighty cause
To wish him dead, but thou hadst none to kill him.
Hub. Had none, my lord! why, did not you

provoke me?

K. John. It is the curse of kings, to be attended
By slaves, that take their humours for a warrant
To break within the bloody house of life:
And, on the winking of authority,

5

To understand a law; to know the meaning
Of dangerous majesty, when, perchance, it frowns 10
More upon humour than advis'd respect.

Hub. Here is your hand and seal for what I did.
K. John. Oh, 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? Had'st not thou been by,
A fellow by the hand of nature mark'd,
Quoted', and signed 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 villainy,
Apt, liable, to be employed in danger,
I faintly broke with thee of Arthur's death;
And thou, to be endeared to a king,
Mad'st it no conscience to destroy a prince.
Hub. My lord,-

K. John. Hadst thou but shook thy head, or
made a pause,

[off,

Forgive the comment that my passion made
Upon thy feature; for my rage was blind,
And foul imaginary eyes of blood

Presected thee more hideous than thou art.

Oh, answer not; but to my closet bring
The angry lords, with all expedient haste:

i conjure thee but slowly; run more fast. [Exe. SCENE III.

A Street before a Prison.

Enter Arthur on the walls.

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, 15 This ship-boy's semblance hath disguis'd me quite. I am afraid; and yet I'll venture it. down, and do not break my limbs, find a thousand shifts to get away: As good to die, and go, as die, and stay.

201

[25]

If I get

[Leaps down. Oh me! my uncle's spirit is in these stones:-Heaven take my soul, and England keep my bones! [Dies.

Enter Pembroke, Salisbury, and Bigot.
Sal. Lords, I will meet him at Saint Edmund's-
It is our safety, and we must embrace [bury;
This gentle offer of the perilous time.

Pemb. Who brought that letter from the cardinal?
Sal. The count Melun, a noble lord of France;
30 Whose private with me, of the Dauphin's love,
Is much more general than these lines import.

When I spake darkly what I purposed;
Or turn'd an eye of doubt upon my face;
Or bid me tell my tale in express words;
Deep shame had struck me dumb, made me break
And those thy fears might have wrought fears in 35
But thou didst understand me by my signs, [me:
And didst in signs again parley with sin;
Yea, without stop, didst let thy heart consent,
And, consequently, thy rude hand to act

Bigot. Tomorrow morning let us meet him then. Sal. Or, rather, then set forward: for 'twill be Two long days' journey, lords, or ere' we meet. Enter Faulconbridge.

Faulc. Once more to-day well met, distemper'd
lords!

The king, by me, requests your presence straight.
Sal. The king hath dispossess'd himself of us;

The deed, which both our tongues held vile toname. 40 We will not line his thin-bestained cloak

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,

This kingdom, this confine of blood and breath,
Hostility and civil tumult reigus
Between my conscience, and my cousin's death.

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 innocent hand,
Not painted with the crimson spots of blood.
Within this bosom never enter'd yet

The dreadful motion of a murd'rous thought,
And you have slander'd 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

45|

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.
Faulc. Whate'er you think, good words, I think,

were best.

[now. Sal. Our griefs, and not our manners, reason* Faule. But there is little reason in your grief: Therefore, 'twere reason, you had manners now. Pemb. Sir, sir, impatience hath its privilege. 50 Fau.c. 'Tis true; to hurt his master, no man

55

else.

Sal. This is the prison: What is he lies here? [Seeing Arthur. Pemb. 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 done, Doth lay it open to urge on revenge. [grave, Bigot. Or, when he doom'd this beauty to the 60 Found it too precious-princely for a grave.

Sal. Sir Richard, what think you? Have you beheld,

Meaning, his private account, or letter to me.

i. e. before.

Or

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 object,
Form such another? This is the very top,
The height, the crest, or crest unto the crest,
Of murder's arms: this is the bloodiest shame,
The wildest savag'ry, the vilest stroke,
That ever wall-ey'd wrath, or staring rage,
Presented to the tears of soft remorse.

Faule. Thou wert better gaul the devil, Salis-
If thou but frown on me, or stir thy foot, [bury:
Or teach thy hasty spleen to do me shame,
I'll strike thee dead. Put up thy sword betime;
5 Or I'll so maul you and your toasting iron,
That you shall think the devil is come from hell.
Bigot. What wilt thou do, renowned Faulcon-
Second a villain, and a murderer? [bridge?
Hub. Lord Bigot, I am none.
Bigot. Who kill'd this prince?

Pemb. All murders past do stand excus'd in this, 10
And this, so sole, and so unmatchable,
Shall give a holiness, a purity,

To the yet-unbegotten sins of time;
And prove a deadly bloodshed, but a jest,
Exampled by this heinous spectacle.

Faule. It is a damned and a bloody work;
The graceless action of a heavy hand.
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 this breathless excellence
Te incense of a vow, a holy row;
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 his hand,
By giving it the worship' of revenge.

Pemb. Bigot. Our souls religiously confirm thy
words.

Enter Hubert.

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.
Sul. Trust not those cunning waters of his eyes,
15 For villainy is not without such rheum;
And he, long traded in it, makes it seem
Like rivers of remorse and innocency.
Away with me, all you whose souls abhor
The uncleanly savours of a slaughter-house;
20 For I am stifled with the smell of sin.

out.

Bigot.Away, toward Bury, to the Dauphin there! Pemb. There, tell the king, he may enquire us [Exeunt lords, Faulc. Here's a good world!-Knew you of this 25 Beyond the infinite and boundless reach [fair work Of mercy, if thou didst this deed of death, Art thou damn'd, Hubert.

Hub. Do but hear me, sir.

Faulc. Ha! I'll tell thee what;

30 Thou art damn'd so black--nay,nothing is so black; Thou art more deep damn'd than prince Lucifer; There is not yet so ugly a fiend of hell

Hub. Lords, I am hot with haste in seeking you:35
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.
Faulc. Your sword is bright, sir; put it up

again.

40

45

50

As thou shalt be, if thou didst kill this child.
Hub. Upon my soul,-

Faulc. 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 thou 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 hell want pains enough to torture me!
I left him well.

Faulc. Go, bear him in thine arms.

I am amaz'd, 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,
55 The life, the right, and truth of all this realm
Is fled to heaven; and England now is left
To tug, and scamble, and to part by the teeth
The unow'd' interest of proud swelling state.
Now, for the bare-pick'd bone of majesty,
60 Doth dogged war bristle his angry crest,
And snarleth in the gentle eyes of peace:

This is a copy of the vows made in the ages of superstition and chivalry. 2 Glory here means, splendor, or renown. 1i. e. the honour or dignity. i. e. honest.

Ye. for hitherto.

Zi. e. unclaimed, or unotened.

i. e. do not make me one.

Now