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.

Pem. Big. Our souls religiously confirm thy words.

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.

Hub. I am no villain.

Sal. [Drawing his sword.] Must I rob the law? Bast. Your sword is bright, sir: put it up again.* Sal. Not till I sheath it in a murderer's skin.

Hub. Stand back, lord Salisbury; stand back, I say:

By Heaven, I think my sword's as sharp as yours.
I would not have you, lord, forget yourself,

Nor tempt the danger of my true 6 defence;
Lest I, by marking of your rage, forget
Your worth, your greatness, and nobility.

Big. Out, dunghill! dar'st thou brave a noble

man?

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;

So in the original; obviously meaning, till I have ennobled this hand with the honour of revenging so foul a crime. Pope proposed head, which has been commonly adopted, Gray the poet having been pleased with it. It is not easy to see how the change betters the passage.

H.

So in Othello: " Keep up your bright swords; for the dew will rust them."

Honest defence, defence in a good cause.

Yet I am none: Whose tongue soe'er speaks false, Not truly speaks; who speaks not truly, lies.

Pem. Cut him to pieces.

Bust.

Keep the peace, I say.

Sul. Stand by, or I shall gall you, Faulconbridge.
Bast. Thou wert better gall the devil, Salisbury:
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 Faulconbridge?
Second a villain, and a murderer ?

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 eyes, For villany is not without such rheum;

And he, long traded in it, makes it seem
Like rivers of remorse and innocency.
Away, with me, all you whose souls abhor
The uncleanly savours of a slaughter-house,
For I am stifled with this smell of sin.

Big. Away, toward Bury, to the Dauphin there!
Pem. There, tell the king, he may inquire us out.

Bast. Here's a good world!

fair work?

[Exeunt Lords. Knew you of this

Beyond the infinite and boundless reach

Of mercy, if thou didst this deed of death,

Art thou damn'd, Hubert.

Thou art more deep damn'd than prince Lucifer :
There is not yet so ugly a fiend of hell

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;

And if thou want'st a cord, the smallest thread
That ever spider twisted from her womb

Will serve to strangle thee; a rush will be

A beam to hang thee on: or would'st thou drown thyself,

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, and 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:

7

Now powers from home, and discontents at home,

7 That is, unowned interest; the interest that now has no acknowledged owner. On the death of Arthur, the right to the crown devolved to his sister Eleanor.

8

can

Meet in one line; and vast confusion waits,
As doth a raven on a sick-fall'n beast,
The imminent decay of wrested pomp.
Now happy he, whose cloak and cincture
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. The same. A Room in the Palace.

Enter King John, Pandulph with the Crown, and Attendants.

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

Pan. [Giving him the Crown.] Take again From this my hand, as holding of the pope,

Your sovereign greatness and authority.

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.

8 Girdle. The original has centre.

Then pause not; for the present time's so sick,
That present medicine must be minister'd,
Or overthrow incurable ensues.

Pan. It was my breath that blew this tempest up Upon your stubborn usage of the pope;

But, since you are a gentle convertite,

My tongue shall hush again this storm of war,
And make fair weather in your blustering land.
On this Ascension-day, remember well,
Upon your oath of service to the pope,

Go I to make the French lay down their arms.

[Exit John. Is this Ascension-day? Did not the prophet Say that before Ascension-day at noon

My crown I should give off?

Even so I have.

I did suppose it should be on constraint;

But, Heaven be thank'd, it is but voluntary.

Enter the Bastard.

Bast. All Kent hath yielded; nothing there holds out,

But Dover castle: London hath receiv'd,

Like a kind host, the Dauphin and his powers:
Your nobles will not hear you, but are gone
To offer service to your enemy;

And wild amazement hurries up and down
The little number of your doubtful friends.

John. Would not my lords return to me again,

After they heard young Arthur was alive?

Bast. They found him dead, and cast into the streets;

An empty casket, where the jewel of life

By some damn'd hand was robb'd and ta'en away. John. That villain Hubert told me he did live. Bast. So, on my soul, he did, for aught he knew. But wherefore do you droop? why lcok you sad?