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K. John. Good friend, thou hast no cause to say Lew. What he hath won, that hath he fortified : so yet:
So hot a speed with such advice dispos'd, But thou shalt have; and creep time ne'er so slow, Such temperate order in so fierce a cause, Yet it shall come, for me to do thee good.
Doth want example: Who hath read, or heard, I had a thing to say, - But let it go :
Of any kindred action like to this? The sun is in the heaven, and the proud day, K. Phi. Well could I bear that England had this Attended with the pleasures of the world,
praise, Is all too wanton, and too full of gawds ,
So we could find some pattern of our shame.
Look, who comes here! a grave unto a soul; If this same were a church-yard where we stand, Holding the eternal spirit, against her will, And thou possessed with a thousand wrongs ;
In the vile prison of afflicted breath: Or if that surly spirit, melancholy,
I prythee, lady, go away with me. Had bak'd thy blood, and made it heavy, thick ; Const. Lo, now! now see the issue of your peace! (Which, else, runs tickling up and down the veins, K. Phi. Patience, good lady! comfort, gentle Making that idiot, laughter, keep men's eyes,
Constance ! And strain their cheeks to idle merriment,
Consi. No, I defy) all counsel, all redress, A passion hateful to my purposes ;)
But that which ends all counsel, true redress, Or if that thou couldst see me without eyes, Death, death: - O amiable lovely death! Hear me without thine ears, and make reply
Arise forth from the couch of lasting night, Without a tongue, using conceit' alone,
Thou hate and terror to prosperity, Without eyes, ears, and harmful sound of words ; And I will kiss thy détestable bones ; Then, in despite of brooded watchful day,
And put my eye-balls in thy vaulty brows; I would into thy bosom pour my thoughts : And ring these fingers with thy household worms; But, ah, I will not: Yet I love thee well; And stop this gap of breath with fulsome dust, And, by my troth, I think, thou lov'st me well. And be a carrion monster like thyself :
Hub. So well, that what you bid me undertake, Come, grin on me, and I will think'st thou smil'st, Though that my death were adjunct ? to my act, And buss thee as thy wife! Misery's love, By heaven, I'd do't.
O, come to me. K. John. Do not I know, thou would'st ? K. Phi.
O fair affliction, peace. Good Hubert, Hubert, Hubert, throw thine eye Const. No, no, I will not, having breath to On yon young boy: I'll tell thee what, my friend,
cry: is a very serpent in my way;
0, that my tongue were in the thunder's mouth! And, wheresoe'er this foot of mine doth tread, Then with a passion would I shake the world; He lies before me : Dost thou understand me? And rouse from sleep that fell anatomy, Thou art his keeper.
Which cannot hear a lady's feeble voice, Hub.
And I will keep him so, Which scorns a modern 6 invocation. That he shall not offend your majesty.
Pand. Lady, you utter madness, and not sorrow, K. John. Death.
Const. Thou art not holy to belie me so;
I am not mad : this hair I tear, is mine;
My name is Constance; I was Geffrey's wife; Hub.
He shall not live. Young Arthur is my son, and he is lost : K. John.
Enough. I am not mad; I would to heaven, I were ! I could be merry now: Hubert, I love thee; For then, 'tis like I should forget myself : Well, I'll not say what I intend for thee;
O, if I could, what grief should I forget!
Preach some philosophy, to make me mad,
For, being not mad, but sensible of grief,
For England, cousin : My reasonable part produces reason Hubert shall be your man, attend on you
How I may be deliver'd of these woes, With all true duty. — On toward Calais, ho! And teaches me to kill or hang myself :
(Exeunt. If I were mad, I should forget my son;
Or madly think, a babe of clouts were he: SCENE IV.- The same. The French King's Tent. I am not mad; too well, too well I feel Enter King Philip, Lewis, PanduLPH, and
The different plague of each calamity.
K. Phi. Bind up those tresses: 0, what love I note Attendants.
In the fair multitude of those her hairs ! K. Phi. So, by a roaring tempest on the flood,
Where but by chance a silver drop hath fallen, A whole armado s of convicted 4 sail
Even to that drop ten thousand wiry friends
Do glew themselves in sociable grief;
Const. To England, if you will.
Bind up your hairs. Arthur ta'en prisoner ? divers dear friends slain ?
Const. Yes, that I will; and wherefore will I And bloody England into England gone,
do it? O'erbearing interruption, spite of France ?
I tore them from their bonds : and cried aloud,
O that these hands could so redeem my son, 9 Showy ornaments.
1 Conception. Joined, 3 Fleet of war. 4 Overcome.
As they have gwen these hairs their liberty!
Shall blow each dust, each straw, each little rub, But now I envy at their liberty,
Out of the path which shall directly lead And will again commit them to their bonds, Thy foot to England's throne; and, therefore, mark. Because my poor child is a prisoner.
John hath seiz'd Arthur; and it cannot be, And, father cardinal, I have heard you say, That, whiles warm life plays in that infant's veins, That we shall see and know our friends in heaven; The misplac'd John should entertain an hour, If that be true, I shall see my boy again:
One minute, nay, one quiet breath of rest : For since the birth of Cain, the first male child, A sceptre snatch'd with an unruly hand, To him that did but yesterday suspire ?,
Must be as boisterously maintain'd as gain'd: There was not such a gracious 8 creature born. And he that stands upon a slippery place, But now will canker sorrow eat my bud,
Makes nice of no vile hold to stay him up: And chase the native beauty from his cheek, That John may stand, then Arthur needs must fall; And he will look as hollow as a ghost;
So be it, for it cannot be but so. As dim and meagre as an ague's fit ;
Lew. But what shall I gain by young Arthur's And so he'll die; and, rising so again,
fall ? When I shall meet him in the court of heaven Pand. You, in the right of lady Blanch, your I shall not know him: therefore never, never
wife, Must I behold my pretty Arthur more.
May then make all the claim that Arthur did. Pand. You hold too heinous a respect of grief. Lew. And lose it, life and all, as Arthur did. Const. He talks to me that never had a son. Pand. How green are you, and fresh in this old K. Phi. You are as fond of grief, as of your child.
world! Const. Grief fills the room up of my absent child, John lays you plots; the times conspire with you : Lies in his bed, walks up and down with me; For he that steeps his safety in true blood, Puts on his pretty looks, repeats his words, Shall find but bloody safety, and untrue. Remembers me of all his gracious parts,
This azt, so evilly born, shall cool the hearts Stuffs out his vacant garments with his form; Of all his people, and freeze up their zeal ; Then have I reason to be fond of grief.
That none so small advantage shall step forth, Fare you well: had you such a loss as I,
To check his reign, but they will cherish it: I could give better comfort than you do.
No natural exhalation in the sky, I will not keep this form upon my head,
No scape of nature, no distemper'd day, (Tearing off her head-dress. No common wind, no customed event, When there is such disorder in my wit.
But they will pluck away his natural cause, O lord, my boy, my Arthur, my fair son !
And call them meteors, prodigies, and signs, My life, my joy, my food, my all the world! Abortives, presages, and tongues of heaven, My widow-comfort, and my sorrow's cure. [Erit. Plainly denouncing vengeance upon John. K. Phi. I fear some outrage, and I'll follow her. Lew. May be, he will not touch young Arthur's
life, Lew. There's nothing in this world can make me But hold himself safe in his prisonment. joy:
Pand. O, sir, when he shall hear of your approach, Life is as tedious as a twice-told tale,
If that young Arthur be not gone already, Vexing the dull ear of a drowsy man;
Even at that news he dies : and then the heart And bitter shame hath spoil'd the sweet world's Of all his people shall revolt from him, taste,
And kiss the lips of unacquainted change ; That it yields nought but shame and bitterness. And pick strong matter of revolt, and wrath,
Pand. Before the curing of a strong disease, Out of the bloody fingers' ends of John, Even in the instant of repair and health,
Methinks, I see this hurly all on foot ; The fit is strongest ; evils that take leave,
And, 0, what better matter breeds for you, On their departure most of all show evil : Than I have nam'd! - The bastard Faulconbridge What have you lost, by losing of this day? Is now in England, ransacking the church,
Lew. All days of glory, joy, and happiness. Offending charity : If but a dozen French
Pand. If you had won it, certainly you had. Were there in arms, they would be as a call No, no : when fortune means to men most good, To train ten thousand English to their side ; She looks upon them with a threatening eye. Or, as a little snow, tumbled about, 'Tis strange, to think how much king John hath lost Anon becomes a mountain. O noble Dauphin, In this which he accounts so clearly won :
Go with me to the king : 'Tis wonderful, Are not you griev'd that Arthur is his prisoner? What may be wrought out of their discontent :
Lew. As heartily as he is glad he bath him. Now that their souls are topful of offence,
Pand. Your mind is all as youthful as your blood. For England go ; I will whet on the king. Now hear me speak with a prophetick spirit; Lew. Strong reasons make strong actions ; Let For even the breath of what I mean to speak
us go; 7 Breathe.
If you say, ay, the king will not say, no. (Exeunt. ACT IV.
SCENE I. - Northampton. A Room in the Castle. 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, Hub. Heat me these irons hot: and look thou And call it cunning; Do, an if you will : stand
If heaven be pleas'd that you must use me ill, Within the arras 9: when I strike my foot Why, then you must. — Will you put out mine eyes? Upon the bosom of the ground, rush forth : These eyes, that never did, nor never shall, And bind the boy, which you shall find with me, So much as frown on you ? Fast to the chair : be heedful : hence, and watch. Hub.
I have sworn to do it; 1 Altend. I hope your warrant will bear out the And with hot irons must I burn them out. deed.
Arth. Ah, none, but in this iron age, would do it! Hub. Uncleanly scruples ! Fear not you: look The iron of itself, though heat red-hot, to't.
[Exeunt Attendants. Approaching near these eyes, would drink my tears, Young lad, come forth; I have to say with you. And quench his fiery indignation,
Even in the matter of mine innocence:
Nay, after that, consume away in rust,
But for containing fire to harm mine eye. Hub.
Good-morrow, little prince. Are you more stubborn-hard than hammer'd iron ? Arth. As little prince (having so great a title
An if an angel should have come to me, To be more prince,) as may be. — You are sad. And told me, Hubert should put out mine eyes, Hub. Indeed, I have been merrier.
I would not have believ'd no tongue, but Hubert's Arth. Mercy on me! Hub. Come forth.
[Stamps. Methinks, no body should be sad but I: Yet I remember, when I was in France,
Re-enter Attendants, with Cord, Irons, &c. Young gentlemen would be as sad as night, Do as I bid you do. Only for wantonness. By my christendom,
Arth. O, save me, Hubert, save me! my eyes So I were out of prison and kept sheep,
are out, I should be merry as the day is long ;
| Even with the fierce looks of these bloody men. And so I would be here, but that I doubt
Hub. Give me the iron, I say, and bind him here. My uncle practises more harm to me:
Arth. Alas! what need you be so boist'rous rough? He is afraid of me, and I of him :
I will not struggle, I will stand stone-still. Is it my fault that I was Geffrey's son ?
For heaven's sake, Hubert, let me not be bound ! No, indeed, is't not; And I would to heaven,
Nay, hear me, Hubert ! drive these men away, I were your son, so you would love me, Hubert,
And I will sit as quiet as a lan b;
Nor look upon the iron angerly :
Arth. Are you sick, Hubert? you look pale to-day: Whatever torment you do put me to. In sooth, I would you were a little sick,
Hub. Go, stand within ; let me alone with him. That I might sit all night, and watch with you: Attend. I am best pleas'd to be from such a I warrant I love you more than you do me.
(Ereunt Attendants. Hub. His words do take possession of my bosom. Arth. Alas! I then have chid away my friend; Read here, young Arthur. [Showing a paper.] How He hath a stern look, but a gentle heart : now, foolish rheum :
[ Aside. Let him come back, that his compassion may Turning dispiteous torture out of door!
Give life to yours. I must be brief; lest resolution drop
Come, boy, prepare yourself. Out at mine eyes, in tender womanish tears.
Arth. Is there no remedy? Can you not read it ? is it not fair writ?
None, but to lose your eyes. Arth. Too fairly, Hubert, for so foul effect :
Arth. O heaven! - that there were but a mote
A grain, a dust, a gnat, a wand'ring hair,
Any annoyance in that precious sense!
And I will. Then, feeling what small things are boist'rous there, Arth. Have you the heart ? When your head did Your vile intent must needs seem horrible. but ake,
Hub. Is this your promise ? go to, hold your I knit my handkerchief about your brows,
tongue. (The best I had, a princess wrought it me,)
Arth. Hubert, the utterance of a brace of tongues And I did never ask it you again :
Must needs want pleading for a pair of eyes : And with my hand at midnight held your head;
Let me not hold my tongue; let me not, Hubert ! And, like the watchful minutes to the hour, Or, Hubert, if you will, cut out my tongue, Still and anon cheer'd up the heavy time;
So I may keep mine eyes; O, spare mine eyes; Saying, What lack you ? and, Where lies your grief? Though to no use, but still to look on you ! Or, What good love may I perform for you?
Lo, by my troth, the instrument is cold, Many a poor man's son would have lain still,
And would not harm me. 9 Tapestry.
I can heat it, boy.