So I may keep mine eyes; O, spare mine eyes;
Though to no use, but still to look on you!
Lo, by my troth, the instrument is cold,
And would not harm me.

Hub.

I can heat it, boy.

Arth. No, in good sooth; the fire is dead with grief,

Being create for comfort, to be us'd

In undeserv'd extremes: See else yourself;
There is no malice in this burning coal;

The breath of heaven hath blown his spirit out,
And strew'd repentant ashes on his head.

Hub. But with my breath I can revive it, boy.
Arth. And if you do, you will but make it blush,
And glow with shame of your proceedings, Hubert:
Nay, it, perchance, will sparkle in your eyes;
And, like a dog that is compell'd to fight,
Snatch at his master that doth tarret him on.
All things, that you should use to do me wrong,
Deny their office: ouly you do lack

That mercy, which fierce fire, and iron, extends, Creatures of note, for mercy-lacking uses.

Hub. Well, see to live; I will not touch thine

eyes

For all the treasure that thine uncle owest:

Yet am I sworn, and I did purpose, boy,

With this same very iron to burn them out.

Arth. O, now you look like Hubert! all this while

You were disguised.

Hub.
Peace: no more. Adieu;
Your uncle must not know but you are dead:
I'll fill these dogged spies with false reports.
And, pretty child, sleep doubtless, and secure,
That Hubert, for the wealth of all the world,
Will not offend thee.
Arth.

O heaven!-I thank you, Hubert,

* In cruelty I have not deserved.
+ Set him on, ‡ Owns,...'

Hub. Silence; no more: Go closely* in with me; Much danger do I undergo for thee.

[Exeunt.

SCENE II.

The same. A room of state in the palace.

Enter King John, crowned; Pembroke, Salisbury, and other lords. The king takes his state.

K. John. Here once again we sit, once again crown'd,

And look'd upon, I hope, with cheerful eyes.

Pem. This once again, but that your highness

pleas'd,

Was once superfluous: you were crown'd before,
And that high royalty was ne'er pluck'd off;
The faiths of men ne'er stained with revolt;
Fresh expectation troubled not the land,
With any long'd-for change, or better state.

Sal. Therefore, to be possess'd with double pomp,
To guardt a title that was rich before,
To gild refined gold, to paint the lily,
To throw a perfume on the violet,
To smooth the ice, or add another hue
Unto the rainbow, or with taper-light

To seek the beauteous eye of heaven to garnish,
Is wasteful, aud ridiculous excess.

Pem. But that your royal pleasure must be done,
This act is as an ancient tale new told;

And, in the last repeating, troublesome,

Being urged at a time unseasonable.

Sal. In this, the antique and well-noted face Of plain old form is much disfigured:

* Secretly.

+ Lace.

Decorate.

And, like a shifted wind unto a sail,

It makes the course of thoughts to fetch about;
Startles and frights consideration;

Makes sound opinion sick, and truth suspected,
For putting on so new a fashion'd robe.

Pem. When workmen strive to do better than well, They do confound their skill in covetousness:

And, oftentimes, excusing of a fault,

Doth make the fault the worse by the excuse;

As patches, set upon a little breach,
Discredit more in hiding of the fault,

Than did the fault before it was so patch'd.

Sal. To this effect, before you were new-crown'd, We breath'd our counsel: but it pleas'd your high-

ness

To overbear it; and we are all well pleas'd;

Since all and every part of what we would,
Doth make a stand at what your highness will.

K. John. Some reasons of this double coronation
I have possess'd you with, and think them strong;
And more, more strong (when lesser is my fear),
I shall indue you with: Mean time, but ask
What you would have reform'd, that is not well;
And well shall you perceive, how willingly
I will both hear and grant you your requests.
Pem. Then I (as one that am the tongue of these,
To soundt the purposes of all their hearts),
Both for myself, and them (but, chief of all,
Your safety, for the which myself and them
Bend their best studies), heartily request
The enfranchisement of Arthur; whose restraint
Doth move the murmuring lips of discontent
To break into this dangerous argument,-
If, what in rest you have, in right you hold,
Why then your fears (which, as they say, attend
The steps of wrong), should move you to mew up
Your tender kinsman, and to choke bis days

• Desire of excelling.

$Releasement.

+ Publish.

With barbarous ignorance, and deny his youth
The rich advantage of good exercise?

That the time's enemies may not have this
To grace occasions, let it be our suit,
That you have bid us ask his liberty;
Which for our goods we do no further ask,
Than whereupon our weal, on you depending,
Counts it your weal, he have his liberty.
K. John. Let it be so; I do commit his youth

Enter Hubert.

To your direction.-Hubert, what news with you?
Pem. This is the man should do the bloody deed;
He show'd his warrant to a friend of mine:

The image of a wicked heinous fault

Lives in his eye; that close aspéct of his

Does show the mood of a much-troubled breast;
And I do fearfully believe, 'tis done

What we so fear'd he had a charge to do.

Sal. The colour of the king doth come and go, Between his purpose and his conscience, Like heralds 'twixt two dreadful battles set: His passion is so ripe, it needs must break. Pem. And, when it breaks, I fear, will issue thence

The foul corruption of a sweet child's death.

K. John. We cannot hold mortality's strong
hand:

Good lords, although my will to give is living,
The suit which you demand is gone and dead:
He tells us, Arthur is deceas'd to-night.

Sal. Indeed, we fear'd, his sickness was past cure.
Pem. Indeed we heard how near his death he was,
Before the child himself felt he was sick:
This must be answer'd, either here, or hence.

K. John. Why do you bend such solemn brows
on me?

Think you, I bear the shears of destiny?

Have I commandment on the pulse of life?

KING JOHN.

Sal. It is apparent foul play; and 'tis shame,
That greatness should go grossly offer it:

59

So thrive it in your game! and so farewell.
Pem. Stay yet, lord Salisbury; I'll go with thee,
And find the inheritance of this poor child,
His little kingdom of a forced grave.

That blood, which ow'd the breath of all this isle,
Three foot of it doth hold; Bad world the while!
This must not be thus borne: this will break out
To all our sorrows, and ere long, I doubt.

[Exeunt Lords.
K. John. They burn in indignation; I repent;
There is no sure foundation set on blood;
No certain life achiev'd by others' death.

Enter a Messenger.

A fearful eye thou hast; Where is that blood,
That I have seen inhabit in those cheeks?

So foul a sky clears not without a storm:

Pour down thy weather:-How goes all in France ? Mess. From France to England.-Never such a powert

For any foreign preparation,

Was levied in the body of a land!

The copy of your speed is learn'd by them;
For, when you should be told they do prepare,
The tidings come, that they are all arriv'd.

K. John. O, where hath our intelligence been
drunk?

Where hath it slept? Where is my mother's care;
That such an army could be drawn in France,

And she not hear of it?

Mess.

My liege, her ear
Is stopp'd with dust; the first of April, died
Your noble mother: And, as I hear, my lord,
The lady Constance in a frenzy died