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Even to our ocean, to our great king John.-
[Exeunt, leading off Melun.
SCENE V.—The same. 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 the English measur'd 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 tatter'd colours clearly up, Last in the field, and almost lords of it!
Enter a Messenger.
Mess. The count Melun is slain; the English lords,
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
Mess. Whoever spoke it, it is true, my lord.
night; The day shall not be up so soon as I, To try the fair adventure of to-morrow. [Exeunt.
SCENE VI. An open Place in the Neighbourhood of
Enter the Bastard and HUBERT, meeting.
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: an if thou please, Thou may'st befriend me so much, as to think I come one way of the Plantagenets.
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 ear.
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.
Bast. Show me the very wound of this ill news;
Hub. The king, I fear, is poison’d by a monk :
Bast. How did he take it? who did taste to him?
Hub. A monk, 1 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 ?
Bast. Withhold thine indignation, mighty heaven,
SCENE VII.-The Orchard of 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 ?
[Exit Bicot. Pem. He is more patient Than when you left him; even now he sung.
P. Hen. O vanity of sickness! fierce extremes,
His soul and body to their lasting rest.
Sal. Be of good comfort, prince; for you are born To set a form upon that indigest, Which he hath left so shapeless and so rude.
Re-enter Bigot and Attendants, who bring in King
John in a Chair.
P. Hen. How fares your majesty ?
P. Hen. O, that there were some virtue in my tears, That might relieve you!
K. John. The salt in them is hot.-