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With our pure honours, nor attend the foot
That leaves the print of blood where'er it walks.
Bast. Whate'er you think, good words, I think, were best.
Sal. Our griefs, and not our manners, reason now.
[Seeing ARTHUR. Pem. 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.
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,
Pem. All murders past do stand excus'd in tl is:
Shall give a holiness, a purity,
To the yet unbegotten sin of times;
Bast. It is a damned and a bloody work;
Sal. If that it be the work of any hand?—
Never to be infected with delight,
Nor conversant with ease and idleness,
Pem. Big. Our souls religiously confirm thy words.
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.
Sal. Not till I sheathe it in a murderer's skin.
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 I, by marking of your rage, forget
Your worth, your greatness, and nobility.
Big. Out, dunghill! dar'st thou brave a nobleman ?
My innocent life against an emperor.
Sal. Thou art a murderer.
Do not prove me so;
Yet I am none: whose tongue soe'er speaks false,
Pem. Cut him to pieces.
If thou but frown on me, or stir thy foot,
Or teach thy hasty spleen to do me shame,
I'll strike thee dead. Put up thy sword betime;
That you shall think the devil is come from hell.
Hub. Lord Bigot, I am none.
Who kill'd this prince?
I honour'd him, I lov'd him; and will weep
For villany is not without such rheum;
Big. Away toward Bury, to the Dauphin there!
[Exeunt Lords. 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.
Do but hear me, sir.
Bast. Ha! I'll tell thee what;
Thou'rt damn'd as black-nay, nothing is so black;
As thou shalt be, if thou didst kill this child.
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 wouldst thou drown thyself,
And it shall be as all the ocean,
Hub. If I in act, consent, or sin of thought,
And snarleth in the gentle eyes of peace:
A Room in the Palace.
Enter KING JOHN, PANDULPH with the crown, and
K. John. Thus have I yielded up into your hand The circle of my glory.
[Giving KING 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 inflam'd.
Rests by you only to be qualified.
Then pause not; for the present time's so sick
That present medicine must be minister'd,
Or overthrow incurable ensues.
Pand. It was my breath that blew this tempest up,
Upon your stubborn usage of the pope:
But since you are a gentle convertite,
My tongue shall hush again this storm of war,
And make fair weather in your blustering land.
Go I to make the French lay down their arms.
K. John. Is this Ascension-day? Did not the prophet Say that before Ascension-day at noon
My crown I should give off? Even so I have:
I did suppose it should be on constraint;
But, heaven be thank'd, it is but voluntary.
Enter the Bastard.
Bast. All Kent hath yielded; nothing there holds out But Dover Castle: London hath receiv'd,
Like a kind host, the Dauphin and his powers:
To offer service to your enemy;
And wild amazement hurries up and down
K. John. Would not my lords return to me again,
Bast. They found him dead, and cast into the streets; An empty casket, where the jewel of life
By some damn'd hand was robb'd and ta'en away.
Be stirring as the time; be fire with fire;
And fright him there? and make him tremble there?
To meet displeasure further from the doors,
And grapple with him ere he come so nigh.
K. John. The legate of the pope hath been with me, And I have made a happy peace with him; And he hath promis'd to dismiss the powers Led by the Dauphin.
O inglorious league!