But as I travell'd hither through the land,
I find the people strangely fantasied;
Possess'd with rumours, full of idle dreams,
Not knowing what they fear, but full of fear:
And here's a prophet, that I brought with me
From forth the streets of Pomfret, whom
found

With many hundreds treading on his heels;
To whom he sung, in rude harsh-sounding
rhymes,

And he that speaks, doth gripe the hearer's
wrist;

Whilst he that hears, makes fearful action,
With wrinkled brows, with nods, with rolling

eyes.

II saw a smith stand with his hammer, thus,
The whilst his iron did on the anvil cool,
With open mouth swallowing a tailor's news;
Who, with his shears and measure in his hand,
Standing on slippers, (which his nimble haste
Had falsely thrust upon contrary feet,)
Told of a many thousand warlike French,
That were embattailed and rank'd in Kent;
Another lean unwash'd artificer
Cuts off his tale, and talks of Arthur's death.
K. John. Why seek'st thou to possess me
with these fears?

That, ere the next Ascension-day at noon,
Your highness should deliver up your crown.
K. John. Thou idle dreamer, wherefore
didst thou so?

Peter. Foreknowing that the truth will fall

out so.

K. John. Hubert, away with him; im-
prison him:

And on that day at noon, whereon, he says,
I shall yield up my crown, let him be hang'd.
Deliver him to safety; and return, [Peter.
For I must use thee.-- [Exit Hubert, with
O my gentle cousin,
Hear'st thou the news abroad, who are ar-
riv'd?
[are full of it;
Bast. The French, my lord; men's mouths
Besides, I met Lord Bigot, and Lord

bury,

Why urgest thou so oft young Arthur's death?
Thy hand hath murder'd him: I had a
mighty cause
[kill him.
hadst none to
why, did you
[attended

To wish him dead, but thou
Hub. Had none, my lord!

not provoke me?

K. John. It is the curse of kings, to be By slaves, that take their humours for a warrant To break within the bloody house of life; Salis-And, on the winking of authority,

(With eyes as red as new-enkindled fire,)
And others more, going to seek the grave
Of Arthur, who, they say, is kill'd to-night
On your suggestion.
K. John.
Gentle kinsman, go,
And thrust thyself into their companies:
I have a way to win their loves again;
Bring them before me.

Bast.

I will seek them out. K. John. Nay, but make haste; the better

foot before.

O, let me have no subject enemies,
When adverse foreigners affright my towns
With dreadful pomp of stout invasion!
Be Mercury, set feathers to thy heels,
And fly like thought from them to me again.
Bast. The spirit of the time shall teach me
speed.

K. John. Spoke like a spriteful noble
gentleman.-
[Exit Bastard.
Go after him; for he, perhaps, shall need
Some messenger betwixt me and the peers;
And be thou he.

Mess. With all my heart, my liege. [Exit.
K. John. My mother dead!
Re-enter Hubert.

To understand a law; to know the meaning
Of dangerous majesty, when, perchance, it
frowns

More upon humour than advis'd respect.
Hub. Here is your hand and seal for what
I did.
[heaven and earth
K. John. O, when the last account 'twixt
Is to be made, then shall this hand and seal
Witness against us to damnation !
How oft the sight of means to do ill deeds,
Make ill deeds done! Hadst not thou been by,
A fellow by the hand of nature mark'd,
Quoted, and sign'd, to do a deed of shame,
This murder had not come into my mind:
But, taking note of thy abhorr'd aspéct,
Finding thee fit for bloody villainy,
Apt, liable to be employ'd in danger,
I faintly broke with thee of Arthur's death;
And thou, to be endeared to a king,
Made it no conscience to destroy a prince.
Hub. My lord,—
[or made a pause,
K. John. Hadst thou but shook thy head,
When I spake darkly what I purposed,
Or turn'd an eye of doubt upon my face,
As bid me tell my tale in express words,
Deep shame had struck me dumb, made me
break off,
[in me:

Hub. My lord, they say, five moons were And those thy fears might have wrought fears

seen to-night:

Four fixed; and the fifth did whirl about
The other four in wondrous motion.

K. John. Five moons!

But thou didst understand me by my signs,
And didst in signs again parley with sin;
Yea, without stop, didst let thy heart consent,
And consequently thy rude hand to act
The deed, which both our tongues held vile to

name.

Hub. Old men, and beldams, in the streets Do prophesy upon it dangerously: [mouths: Young Arthur's death is common in their Out of my sight, and never see me more! And when they talk of him, they shake their My nobles leave me; and my state is brav'd, And whisper one another in the ear; [heads, Even at my gates, with ranks of foreign powers:

Nay, in the body of this fleshly land,
This kingdom, this confine of blood and breath,
Hostility and civil tumult reigns
Between my conscience and my cousin's death.
Hub. Arm you against your other enemies,
I'll make a peace between your soul and you.
Young Arthur is alive: this hand of mine
Is yet a maiden and an innocent hand,
Not painted with the crimson spots of blood.
Within this bosom never enter'd yet
The dreadful motion of a murderous thought;|
And you have slander'd nature in my form,
Which, howsoever rude exteriorly,

Is yet the cover of a fairer mind

Than to be butcher of an innocent child.

K. John. Doth Arthur live? O, haste thee
to the peers,

Throw this report on their incensed rage,
And make them tame to their obedience !
Forgive the comment that my passion made
Upon thy feature; for my rage was blind,
And foul imaginary eyes of blood
Presented thee more hideous than thou art.
O, answer not; but to my closet bring
The angry lords, with all expedient haste;
I conjure thee but slowly; run more fast.
[Exeunt.
SCENE III.-Northampton. Before the
Castle.

Enter Arthur, on the walls.

Arth. The wall is high; and yet will I leap
down:-

Good ground, be pitiful, and hurt me not !-
There's few, or none, do know me: if they did,
This ship-boy's semblance hath disguis'd me
I am afraid; and yet I'll venture it. [quite.
If I
get down, and do not break my limbs,
I'll find a thousand shifts to get away:
As good to die and go, as die and stay.

[Leaps down. O me! my uncle's spirit is in these stones :Heaven take my soul, and England keep my

bones.

[Dies.

Enter Pembroke, Salisbury, and Bigot.

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,

Form such another? This is the very top,
The height, the crest, or crest unto the crest,
Of murder's arm: this is the bloodiest shame,
The wildest savagery, the vilest stroke,
That ever wall-ey'd wrath, or staring rage,
Presented to the tears of soft remorse.

Pem. All murders past do stand excus'd in
And this, so sole and so unmatchable, [this;
Shall give a holiness, a purity,

To the yet unbegotten sin of times;
And prove a deadly bloodshed but a jest,
Exampled by this heinous spectacle.

Bast. It is a damned and a bloody work;
The graceless action of a heavy hand,
If that it be the work of any hand.

Sal. If that it be the work of any hand?--
We had a kind of light, what would ensue :

Sal, Lords, I will meet him at Saint Ed-It is the shameful work of Hubert's hand;

The practice, and the purpose, of the king :-
From whose obedience I forbid my soul,
Kneeling before this ruin of sweet life,
And breathing to his breathless excellence
The incense of a vow, a holy vow,
Never to taste the pleasures of the world,
Never to be infected with delight,
Nor conversant with ease and idleness,
Till I have set a glory to this hand,
By giving it the worship of revenge. [words.
Pem. Big. Our souls religiously confirm thy
Enter Hubert.

Hub. Lords, I am hot with haste in seeking
you:

Arthur doth live; the king hath sent for you. Sal. O, he is bold, and blushes not at death :

Avaunt, thou hateful villain, get thee gone! And if thou want'st a cord, the smallest thread
Hub. I am no villain.
[law? That ever spider twisted from her womb
Sal. [Drawing his sword.] Must I rob the Will serve to strangle thee; a rush will be a
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:
[yours:
By heaven, I think my sword's as sharp as
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?

Hub. Not for my life: but yet I dare defend
My innocent life against an emperor.
Sal. Thou art a murderer.
Hub.
Do not prove me so;
Yet, I am none: whose tongue soe'er speaks
false,

Not truly speaks; who speaks not truly, lies.
Pem. Cut him to pieces.
Bast.
Keep the peace, I say.
Sal. Stand by, or I shall gall you, Faulcon-
bridge.
[bury:
Bast. Thou wert better gall the devil, Salis-
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:
Or I'll so maul you and your toasting-iron,
That you shall think the devil is come from
hell.

Big. What wilt thou do, renowned Faulcon-
Second a villain and a murderer ? [bridge?
Hub. Lord Bigot, I am none.

Big.
Who kill'd this prince?
Hub. 'Tis not an hour since I left him well:
I honour'd him, I lov'd him; and will weep
My date of life out for his sweet life's loss.

Sal. Trust not those cunning waters of his
For villainy is not without such rheum ; [eyes,
And he, long traded in it, makes it seeni
Like rivers of remorse and innocency.
Away with me, all you whose souls abhor
Th' uncleanly savours of a slaughter-house;
For I am stifled with this smell of sin. [there!
Big. Away toward Bury, to the Dauphin
Pem. There, tell the king, he may enquire
[Exeunt Lords.
Bast. Here's a good world -Knew you of
this fair work?

us out.

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, sir :-
Bast. Ha! I'll tell thee what; [black;
Thou art damn'd as black-nay, nothing is so
Thou art more deep damn'd than Prince Luci-
There is not yet so ugly a fiend of hell [fer:
As thou shalt be, if thou didst kill this child.
Hub. Upon my soul,--
Bast.
If thou didst but consent
To this most cruel act, do but despair;

beam

[self,

To hang thee on; or wouldst thou drown thy-
Put but a little water in a spoon,
And it shall be as all the ocean,
Enough to stifle such a villain up.-
I do suspect thee very grievously.

Hub. If I in act, consent, or sin of thought,
Be guilty of the stealing that sweet breath
Which was embounded in this beauteous clay,
Let hell want pains enough to torture me!
I left him well.

Bast.

Go, bear him in thine arms.—
I am amaz'd, methinks; and lose my way
Among the thorns and dangers of this world.-
How easy dost thou take all England up!
From forth this morsel of dead royalty,
The life, the right, the truth of all this realm
Is fled to heaven; and England now is left
To tug and scamble, and to part by the teeth
The unow'd interest of proud swelling state.
Now for the bare-pick'd bone of majesty
Doth dogged war bristle his angry crest,
And snarleth in the gentle eyes of peace :
Now powers from home, and discontents at
home,

Meet in one line; and vast confusion waits,
(As doth a raven on a sick-fallen beast,)
The imminent decay of wrested pomp.
Now happy he, whose cloak and cincture can
Hold out this tempest. Bear away that child,
And follow me with speed: I'll to the king:
A thousand businesses are brief in hand,
And heaven itself doth frown upon the land.
[Exeunt.

ACT V.

SCENE I.-Northampton. A Room in the
Palace.

Enter King John, Pandulpho with the crown,
and Attendants.

K. John. Thus have I yielded up into your The circle of my glory. [hand

Pand. [Giving John the crown.] Take again 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.
Our discontented counties do revolt;
Our people quarrel with obedience;
Swearing allegiance, and the love of soul,
To stranger blood, to foreign royalty.
This inundation of mistemper'd humour
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.
[pest up.

Pand. It was my breath that blew this tem

This shower, blown up by tempest of the soul,
Startles mine eyes, and makes me more amaz'd
Than had I seen the vaulty top of heaven
Figur'd quite o'er with burning meteors.
Lift up thy brow, renowned Salisbury,
And with a great heart heave away this storm:
Commend these waters to those baby eyes,
That never saw the giant-world enrag'd;
Nor met with fortune other than at feasts,
Full warm of blood, of mirth, of gossiping.
Come, come; for thou shalt thrust thy hand as
Into the purse of rich prosperity,

[deep

Till my attempt so much be glorified,
As to my ample hope was promised
Before I drew this gallant head of war,
And cull'd these fiery spirits from the world,
To outlook conquest, and to win renown
Even in the jaws of danger and of death.—
[Trumpet sounds.
What lusty trumpet thus doth summon us?
Enter the Bastard, attended.

Bast. According to the fair play of the
world,

Let me have audience; I am sent to speak :-
My holy lord of Milan, from the king

As Lewis himself:-so, nobles, shall you all,
That knit your sinews to the strength of mine.-I come, to learn how you have dealt for him ;

Enter Pandulpho, attended.

And even there, methinks, an angel spake :
Look, where the holy legate comes apace,
To give us warrant from the hand of heaven,
And on our actions set the name of right
With holy breath.

Pand.
Hail, noble prince of France!
The next is this,-king John hath reconcil'd
Himself to Rome; his spirit is come in,
That so stood out against the holy church,
The great metropolis and see of Rome:
Therefore, thy threat'ning colours now wind
And tame the savage spirit of wild war, [up;
That, like a lion foster'd up at hand,
It may lie gently at the foot of peace,
And be no further harmful than in show.
Lew. Your grace shall pardon me, I will not
I am too high-born to be propertied, [back:
To be a secondary at control,

Or useful serving-man, and instrument,
To any sovereign state throughout the world.
Your breath first kindled the dead coal of wars
Between this chastis'd kingdom and myself,
And brought in matter that should feed this fire:
And now 'tis far too huge to be blown out
With that same weak wind which enkindled it.
You taught me how to know the face of right,
Acquainted me with interest to this land,
Yea, thrust this enterprise into my heart;
And come you now to tell me, John hath made
His peace with Rome? What is that peace to
I, by the honour of my marriage-bed, [me?
After young Arthur, claim this land for mine;
And, now it is half-conquer'd, must I back,
Because that John hath made his peace with
Rome?
[borne,
Am I Rome's slave? What penny hath Rome
What men provided, what munition sent,
To underprop this action? is't not I,
That undergo this charge? who else but I,
And such as to my claim are liable,
Sweat in this business, and maintain this war?
Have I not heard these islanders shout out,
Vive le roy! as I have bank'd their towns?
Have I not here the best cards for the game,
To win this easy match, play'd for a crown?
And shall I now give o'er the yielded set?
No, on my soul, it never shall be said. [work.
Pand. You look but on the outside of this
Lew. Outside or inside, I will not return

And, as you answer, I do know the scope
And warrant limited unto my tongue.

Pand. The Dauphin is too wilful-opposite,
And will not temporize with my entreaties;
He flatly says, he'll not lay down his arms.

Bast. By all the blood that ever fury breath'd, The youth says well.-Now, hear our English king;

For thus his royalty doth speak in me.
He is prepar'd; and reason, too, he should:
This apish and unmannerly approach,
This harness'd masque, and unadvised revel,
This unhair'd sauciness, and boyish troops,
The king doth smile at ; and is wel! prepar'd
To whip this dwarfish war, these pigmy arms,
From out the circle of his territories.
That hand, which had the strength, even at
your door,

To cudgel you, and make you take the hatch;
To dive, like buckets, in concealed wells;
To crouch in litter of your stable planks;
To lie, like pawns, lock'd up in chests and
trunks;

To hug with swine; to seek sweet safety out
In vaults and prisons; and to thrill, and shake,
Even at the crying of your nation's crow,
Thinking his voice an armed Englishman ;——
Shall that victorious hand be feebled here,
That in your chambers gave you chastisement?
No! Know, the gallant monarch is in arms;
And, like an eagle o'er his aiery, towers,
To souse annoyance that comes near his nest.--
And you degenerate, you ingrate revolts,
You bloody Neroes, ripping up the womb
Of your dear mother England, blush for shame;
For your own ladies, and pale-visag'd maids,
Like amazons, come tripping after drums,
Their thimbles into armed gauntlets change,
Their neelds to lances, and their gentle hearts
To fierce and bloody inclination.

Lew. There end thy brave, and turn thy
face in peace;
[well:
We grant thou canst outscold us: fare thee
We hold our time too precious to be spent
With such a brabbler.

Pand.

Give me leave to speak.

Bast. No, I will speak.
Lew.

We will attend to neither.

Strike up the drums; and let the tongue of war
Plead for our interest, and our being here.