SCENE, an open Place in the Neighbourhood of Swinftead Abbey.

Hu.

Enter Faulconbridge, and Hubert, feverally.

WE

7Ho's there? fpeak, ho! fpeak quickly, or I shoot Faulc. A friend. What art thou?

Hub. Of the

part of England.

Faulc. And whither doft thou go?

Hub. What's that to thee?

Why may not I demand of thine affairs,
As well as thou of mine ?

Faulc. Hubert, I think.

Hub. Thou haft a perfect thought:

I will upon all hazards well believe

Thou art my friend, that know'ft my tongue fo well: Who art thou?

Faulc. Who thou wilt ? and, if thou please, Thou may'ft be-friend me fo much, as to think, I come one way of the Plantagenets!

Hub. Unkind remembrance! thou and eyeless night(30) Have done me fhame; brave foldier, pardon me, That any accent, breaking from thy tongue, Should 'scape the true acquaintance of mine ear. Faule. Come, come; fans complement, what news abroad? Hub. Why here walk I, in the black brow of night, To find you out.

Faulc. Brief then and what's the news?

:

Hub. O my fweet Sir, news fitting to the night; Black, fearful, comfortlefs, and horrible.

Faulc. Shew me the very wound of this ill news, I am no woman, I'll not fwcon at it.

Hub. The King, I fear, is poifon'd by a Monk :

(30) Unkind remembrance; thou and endless night

Have done me foame -] Why, endless night? Hubert means

no more, than that the dulnefs of his recollection, and the darkness of the night, had difgraced him in his not knowing Faulconbridge by the tore of his voice. Our Author cera n'y wrote, eye-lefs. Mr. Warburton likewise concurr'd in starting this emendation.

I left him almoft fpeechlefs, and broke out
T'acquaint you with this evil; that you might
The better arm you to the fudden time,
Than if you had at leifure known of this.

Faule. How did he take it? who did tafte to him?
Hub. A Monk, I tell you; a resolved villain,
Whofe bowels fuddenly burft out; the King
Yet fpeaks; and, peradventure, may recover.
Faule. Who didft thou leave to tend his Majefty?
Hub. Why, know you not? the Lords are all come back,
And brought Prince Henry in their company;
At whofe request the King hath pardon'd them,
And they are all about his Majefty.

Faale. With hold thine indignation, mighty heav'n !-
And tempt us not to bear above our power.
I'll tell thee, Hubert, half my pow'rs this night,
Paffing thefe fats, are taken by the tide ;
Thefe Lincoln-washes have devoured them;
Myfelf, well mounted, hardly have efcaped.
Away, before: conduct me to the King;
I doubt, he will be dead, or e'er I come.

[Exeunt.

SCENE changes to the Orchard in Swinflead
Abbey.

Enter Prince Henry, Salisbury, and Bigot.

Henry T is too late; the life of all his blood

Is touch'd corruptibly; and his pure brain, (Which, fome fuppofe, the foul's frail-dwelling houfe,) Doth, by the idle comments that it makes;

Foretel the ending of mortality,

Enter Pembroke.

Pemb. His Highnefs yet doth fpeak, 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 fill rage?

Pemb.

t

Pemb. He is more patient,
Than when you left him; even now he fung.
Henry. Oh vanity of ficknefs! fierce extreams
In their continuance will not feel themselves.
Death, having prey'd upon the outward parts,
Leaves them; invifible his fiege is now,
Against the mind; the which he pricks and wounds
With many legions of strange fantafies;
Which, in their throng, and prefs to that laft hold,
Confound themselves. 'Tis ftrange, that death fhould
fing :----

I am the cygnet to this pale, faint fwan,
Who chaunts a doleful hymn to his own death;
And, from the organ-pipe of frailty, fings

His foul and body to their lafting reft.

Sal. Be of good comfort, Prince; for you are born To fet a form upon that indigeft,

Which he hath left fo shapeless and fo rude.

King John brought in.

K. John. Ay, marry, now my foul hath elbow-room; It would not out at windows, nor at doors.

There is fo hot a fummer in my bofom,
That all my bowels crumble up to du:
I am a fcribbled form drawn with a pen
Upon a parchment, and against this fire.
Do I fhrink up.

Henry. How fares your Majefty?

K. John. Poifon'd, ill fare! dead, forfook, caft off (31);

(31) Poifen'd, ill fate!] This is Mr. Pope's reading, on no authority that I can find. I have replac'd fare, with the old copies; and confidering how much our Author lov'd and has practis'd the jingle and play on words, fimilat in found; there is no queftion but he intended it here.

So, in his Second Part of Henry VI.

Sheriff, farewel; and better than I fare :

And, in the Third Part of Henry VI.

How now, fair Iords? What fare? What news abroad? Ill fate both takes away the antithefis, and makes a very flat infipid exclamation.

And

And none of you will bid the winter come
To thrust his icy fingers in my maw;

Nor let my kingdom's rivers take their course,
Through my burn'd bofom : nor intreat the north
To make his bleak winds kiss my parched lips,
And comfort me with cold. I ask not much,
I beg cold comfort; and you are fo strait,

And fo ungrateful, you deny me that.

Henry. Oh, that there were fome virtue in my tears, That might relieve you!

K. John. The falt of them is hot.

Within me is a hell; and there the poison
Is, as a fiend, confin'd to tyrannize

On unreprievable, condemned blood.

Enter Faulconbridge.

Faule. Oh, I am fcalded with my violent motion, And fpleen of speed to fee your Majefty.

K. John. Oh, coufin, thou art come to fet mine eye The tackle of my heart is crackt and burnt; And all the shrouds, wherewith my life fhould fail, Are turned to one thread, one little hair : My heart hath one poor ftring to stay it by, Which holds but till thy news be uttered: And then all this thou feeft, is but a clod, And module of confounded royalty.

Faulc. The Dauphin is preparing hitherward,

Where, heav'n he knows, how we fhall anfwer him.
For, in a night, the beft part of my power,
As I upon advantage did remove,
Were in the wafhes, all unwarily,
Devoured by the unexpected flood.

[The Kings dies.

Sal. You breathe thefe dead news in as dead an ear:

My Liege! my Lord!-but now a King-now thus.
Henry. Ev'n fo must I run on, and ev'n fo stop.
What furety of the world, what hope, what ftay,
When this was now a King, and now is clay?
Faule. Art thou gone fo? I do but stay behind,
To do the office for thee of revenge :

And

And then my foul shall wait on thee to heav'n,
As it on earth hath been thy fervant still.

Now, now, you stars, that move in your bright spheres,
Where be your pow'rs? fhew now your mended faiths,
And inftantly return with me again,

To push destruction and perpetual shame
Out of the weak door of our fainting land:
Strait let us feek, or strait we shall be fought;
The Dauphin rages at our very heels.

Sal. It feems, you know not then so much as we:
The Cardinal Pandulph is within at rest,

Who half an hour fince came from the Dauphin;
And brings from him fuch offers of our peace,
As we with honour and respect may take,
With purpose presently to leave this war.

Faule. He will the rather do it, when he fees
Ourselves well finewed to our defence.

Sal. Nay, it is in a manner done already;
For many carriages he hath dispatch'd
To the fea-fide, and put his caufe and quarrel
To the difpofing of the Cardinal :

With whom yourfelf, myself, and other Lords,

If

you think meet, this afternoon will poft To confummate this bufinefs happily.

Faulc. Let it be fo; and you, my noble Prince,
With other Princes that may best be spar'd,
Shall wait upon your father's funeral.

Henry. At Worcester muft his body be interr'd,
For fo he will'd it.

Faule. Thither fhall it then.

And happily may your sweet self put on
The lineal ftate, and glory of the land!
To whom, with all fubmiffion on my knee,
I do bequeath my faithful fervices,

And true fubjection everlaftingly.

Sal. And the like tender of our love we make,

To reft without a spot for evermore.

Henry. I have a kind foul, that would give you thanks,

And knows not how to do it, but with tears.