Bigot. Or, when he doom'd this beauty to the grave, Found it too precious-princely, for a grave. Sal. Sir Richard, what think you? You have beheld, Or have you read, or heard? or could you think? Or do you almost think, although you see, That you do fee? could thought, without this object, The height, the creft, or creft unto the creft, That ever wall-ey'd wrath, or ftaring rage, Presented to the tears of foft remorse. Pemb. All murders paft do ftand excus'd in this: And this, fo fole, and fo unmatchable, Shall give a holiness, a purity, To the yet-unbegotten fins of time; And prove a deadly bloodshed but a jest, Faulc. It is a damned and a bloody work; Sal. If that it be the work of any hand?- The practice, and the purpose, of the king the glaive-the fword. • The practice,]-contrivance, plat. 'Till I have ' fet a glory to this hand, [Laying bold on one of Arthur's. By giving it the worship of revenge. Pemb. Bigot. Our fouls religiously confirm thy words. Enter Hubert. Hub. Lords, I am hot with hafte in seeking you: Arthur doth live; the king hath fent for you. Sal. Oh, he is bold, and blushes not at death :Avaunt, thou hateful villain, get thee gone! Hub. I am no villain. Sal. Muft I rob the law? [Drawing bis fword. Faulc. Your fword is bright, fir; put it up again. Hub. Stand back, lord Salisbury, ftand back, I fay; S Left I, by marking of your rage, forget Bigot. Out, dunghill! dar'ft thou brave a nobleman! Sal. Thou art a murderer. t Hub. Do not prove me so; Yet, I am none: Whose tongue foe'er speaks false, Pemb. Cut him to pieces. Faulc. Keep the peace, I say. Sal. Stand by, or I fhall gaul you, Faulconbridge. fet a glory to this hand,]-rendered it famous, by the exemplary vengeance I shall take on the perpetrators of this foul deed. true defence;]-proper, able, fkilful; in a juft caufe. Do not prove me fo;]-put me to this dangerous proof of cence; by provoking me to kill you. my inno If thou but frown on me, or stir thy foot, I'll strike thee dead. Put up thy fword, betimes That you shall think the devil is come from hell. Bigot. What wilt thou do, renowned Faulconbridge? Second a villain, and a murderer ? . Hub. Lord Bigot, I am none. Bigot. Who kill'd this prince? Hub. 'Tis not an hour fince I left him well: Bigot. Away, toward Bury, to the Dauphin there! [Exeunt. Faulc. 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, fir. Faulc. Ha! I'll tell thee what; Thou art damn'd so black-nay, nothing is so black; Thou art more deep damn'd than prince Lucifer: There is not yet fo ugly a fiend of hell As thou shalt be, if thou didst kill this child. Hub. Upon my foul, Faulc. Faulc. If thou didst but confent To this most cruel act, do but despair, And, if thou want'ft a cord, the smallest thread Will ferve to ftrangle thee; a rufh will be a beam To hang thee on: or, would't thou drown thyfelf, And it shall be as all the ocean, up. I do fufpect thee very grievously. Hub. If I in act, confent, or fin of thought, Faulc. Go, bear him in thine arms. I am amaz'd, methinks; and lofe my way W * The imminent decay of wrefted pomp. " feramble. wun-owed]-having no proper owner. * The imminent decay of wrested pomp.]-The fpeedy deltruction of a prince, whofe crown is on the point of being wrefted from him. Now happy he, whofe ' cloak and cincture can [Exeunt. ACT V. SCENE I. The Court of England. Enter King John, Pandulph, and Attendants. K. John. Thus have I yielded up into your hand The circle of my glory. Pand. Take again [Giving up the crown. From this my hand, as holding of the pope, Sovereign your 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, Our people quarrel with obedience; Refts by you only to be qualify'd. Then pause not; for the present time's so sick, Or overthrow incurable enfues. Pand. It was my breath that blew this tempest up, Upon your stubborn ufage of the y cleak and cinture]-garments. pope: brief in band,-in hand, and af despatch. But |