And, consequently, thy rude hand to act The deed, which both our tongues held vile to name. My nobles leave me ; and my state is braved, This kingdom, this confine of blood and breath, Between my conscience, and my cousin's death. The dreadful motion of a murd'rous thought, 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 the Throw this report on their incensed rage, Presented thee more hideous than thou art. [Exeunt. SCENE III. The same. Before the Castle. Enter ARTHUR on the walls. Arth. The wall is high; and yet will I leap down: If I get down, and do not break my limbs, (Leaps down.) O 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-Bury; It is our safety, and we must embrace This gentle offer of the perilous time. Pem. Who brought that letter from the cardinal? Sal. The count Melun, a noble lord of France; Whose private with me, of the Dauphin's love, Is much more general than these lines import. Big. To-morrow morning let us meet him then. Sal. Or, rather then set forward: for 'twill be Two long days' journey, lords, or e'er we meet. Enter the Bastard. Bast. 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; We will not line his thin bestained cloak With our pure honours, nor attend the foot, That leaves the print of blood where'er it walks: Return, and tell him so; we know the worst. Bast. Whate'er you think, good words, I think, were best. Sal. Our griefs, and not our manners, reason now. Bast. But there is little reason in your grief; Therefore, 'twere reason, you had manners now. Pem. Sir, sir, impatience hath his privilege. Bast. 'Tis true; to hurt his master, no man else. Sal. This is the prison: What is he lies here? (Seeing Arthur.) Pem. O death, made proud with pure and princely beauty! The earth hath not a hole to hide this deed. Sal. Murder, as hating what himself hath done, Doth lay it open, to urge on revenge. Big. Or, when he doom'd this beauty to a grave, Found it too precious-princely for a grave. Sal Sir Richard, what think you ? Have you beheld, 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, The height, the crest, or crest unto the crest, Pem. All murders past do stand excused in this : And this, so sole, and so unmatchable, Bast. It is a damned and a bloody work; Sal. If that it be the work of any hand?- By giving it the worship of revenge. Pem. Big. Our souls religiously confirm thy words. Enter HUBERT. Hub. Lords, I am hot with haste in seeking you. Must I rob the law? (Drawing his sword.) Bast. Your sword is bright, sir; put it up again. Hub. Stand back, Lord Salisbury, stand back, I say; By Heaven, I think, my sword 's as sharp as yours: I would not have you, lord, forget yourself, Nor tempt the danger of my true defence; Lest 1, by marking of your rage, forget Your worth, your greatness, and nobility. Big. Out, dunghill! darest thou brave a nobleman? Hub. Not for my life: but yet I dare defend My innocent life against an emperor. Sal. Thou art a murderer. Hub. Do not prove me so; Yet, I am none: Whose tongue soe'er speaks false, Pem. Cut him to pieces. Bast. Keep the peace, I say. Sal. Stand by, or I shall gall you, Faulconbridge. Hub. Lord Bigot, I am noue. I honour'd him, I loved him; and will weep Sal. Trust not those cunning waters of his eyes, Big. Away, toward Bury, to the Dauphin there! Bast. Here's a good world! - Knew you of this fair work? Beyond the infinite and boundless reach Of mercy, if thou didst this deed of death, Art thou damn'd, Hubert. Hub. Do but hear me, sir. Bast. Ha! I'll tell thee what; Thou art damn'd as 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 As thou shalt be, if thou didst kill this child. Hub. Upon my soul, Bast. 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 [self, A beam to hang thee on; or, wouldst thou drown thy 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, - Bast. Go, bear him in thine arms.- And Heaven itself doth frown upon the land. [Exeunt, АСТ V. SCENE I. The same. A Room in the Palace. Enter KING JOHN, PANDULPH with the crown, and Attendants. K. John. Thus have I yielded up into your hand The circle of my glory. Pand. Take again (Giving John the crown.) From this my hand, as holding of the pope, Your sovereign greatness and authority. K. John. Now keep your holy word: go meet the French; And from his holiness use all your power To stop their marches, 'fore we are inflamed. Our discontented counties do revolt; Our people quarrel with obedience; Swearing allegiance, and the love of soul, VOL. III. 13 |