A

TH

TH

Lo

Lew. I muse*, your majesty doth seem so cold, When such profound respects do pull you on. Pand. I will denounce a curse upon his head. K. Phi. Thou shalt not need :-England, I'll fall from thee.

Const. O fair return of banish'd majesty!

Eli. O foul revolt of French inconstancy!

K. John. France, thou shalt rue this hour within this hour.

Bast. Old time the clock-setter, that bald sexton

time,

Is it as he will? well then, France shall rue.

Blanch. The sun's o'ercast with blood: Fair day,
adieu!

Which is the side that I must go withal?
I am with both: each army hath a hand;
And, in their rage, I having hold of both,
They whirl asunder, and dismember me.
Husband, I cannot pray that thou may'st win;
Uncle, I needs must pray that thou may'st lose;
Father, I may not wish the fortune thine;
Graudam, I will not wish thy wishes thrive:
Whoever wins, on that side shall I lose;
Assured loss, before the match be play'd.

Lew. Lady, with me: with me thy fortune lies. Blanch. There where my fortune lives, there my life dies.

ther.

K. John. Cousin, go draw our puissance + toge[Exit Bastard. France, I am burn'd up with inflaming wrath; A rage, whose heat hath this condition, That nothing can allay, nothing but blood, The blood, and dearest-valu'd blood, of France. K. Phi. Thy rage shall burn thee up, and thou

shalt turn

To ashes, ere our blood shall quench that fire:
Look to thyself, thou art in jeopardy.

K. John. No more than he that threats.-To arms [Exeunt.

let's hie!

Alarums, Excursions. Enter the Bastard, with Austria's Head.

Bast. Now, by my life, this day grows wondrous hot;

Some airy devil hovers in the sky,

And pours down mischief. Austria's head lie there; While Philip breathes.

Enter King John, Arthur, and Hubert.

K. John. Hubert, keep this boy:-Philip, make up: My mother is assailed in our tent,

And ta'en, I fear.

Bast.

My lord, I rescu'd her;
Her highness is in safety, fear you not;
But on, my liege: for very little pains
Will bring this labour to an happy end.

[Exeunt.

SCENE III.

The same.

Alarums; Excursions; Retreat. Enter King John, Elinor, Arthur, the Bastard, Hubert, and Lords.

K. John. So shall it be; your grace shall stay be

hind,

[To Elinor.

So strongly guarded.-Cousin, look not sad:

[To Arthur.

Thy grandam loves thee; and thy uncle will
As dear be to thee as thy father was.

Arth. O, this will make my mother die with grief.
K. John. Cousin [To the Bastard.], away for
England; haste before:

And, ere our coming, see thou shake the bags
Of hoarding abbots: angels imprisoned
Set thou at liberty: the fat ribs of peace
Must by the hungry now be fed upon:

Use our commission in his utmost force.

Bast. Bell, book, and candle, shall not drive me back,

When gold and silver becks me to come on.

I leave your highness:-Grandam, I will pray (If ever I remember to be holy).

For your fair safety; so I kiss your hand.

Eli. Farewell, my gentle cousin.

K. John.

Coz, farewell.

[Exit Bastard.

Eli. Come hither, little kinsman; hark, a word.

[She takes Arthur aside.

• Gold coin.

K. John. Come hither, Hubert. O my gentle

Hubert,

We owe thee much; within this wall of flesh
There is a soul, counts thee her creditor,
And with advantage means to pay thy love:
And, my good friend, thy voluntary oath
Lives in this bosom, dearly cherished.
Give me thy hand. I had a thing to say,-
But I will fit it with some better time.
By heaven, Hubert, I am almost asham'd
To say what good respect I have of thee.

Hub. I am much bounden to your majesty.

K. John. Good friend, thou hast no cause to say
so yet:

But thou shalt have ;-and creep time ne'er so slow,
Yet it shall come, for me to do thee good.

I had a thing to say,-But let it go:
The sun is in the heaven, and the proud day,
Attended with the pleasures of the world,
Is all too wanton, and too full of gawds*,
To give me audience:-If the midnight bell
Did, with his iron tongue and brazen mouth,
Sound one unto the drowsy race of night;
If this same were a church-yard where we stand,
And thou possessed with a thousand wrongs;
Or if that surly spirit, melancholy,

Had bak'd thy blood, and made it heavy-thick
(Which, else, runs tickling up and down the veins,
Making that idiot, laughter, keep men's eyes,
And strain their cheeks to idle merriment,
A passion hateful to my purposes);

Or if that thou could'st see me without eyes,
Hear me without thine ears, and make reply
Without a tongue, using conceitt alone,
Without eyes, ears, and harmful sound of words;
Then, in despite of brooded watchful day,

I would into thy bosom pour my thoughts:

Showy ornaments.

↑ Conception.