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And thrust thyself into their companies:
Faul. I will seek them out.
K. John, Nay, but make haste; the better foot before.
O, let me have no subjects enemies,
[Exit the ENGLISH HERALD. K. John. My mother dead !—
Hub. My lord, they say, five moons were seen to
Four fixed; and the fifth did whirl about
The other four, in wondrous motion.
K. John. Five moons?
Hub. Old men, and beldams, in the streets
Do prophesy upon it dangerously:
Young Arthur's death is common in their mouths:
And he, that speaks, doth gripe the hearer's wrist;
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?
Why urgest thou so oft young Arthur's death?
K. John. It is the curse of kings, to be attended
To understand a law; to know the meaning
Hub. Here is your hand and seal for what I did.
Is to be made, then shall this hand and seal
K. John. Hadst thou but shook thy head, or made a pause,
When I spake darkly what I purposed;
And those thy fears might have wrought fears in me:
This kingdom, this confine of blood and breath,
Between my conscience, and my cousin's death.
This hand of mine
Is yet a maiden and an innocent hand,
Not painted with the crimson spots of blood.
The dreadful motion of a murd'rous thought,
Is yet the cover of a fairer mind
Than to be butcher of an innocent child.
Young Arthur is alive.
K. John. Doth Arthur live? O, haste thee to the
Throw this report on their incensed rage,
And make them tame to their obedience!
[Exeunt KING JOHN and HUBERT.
The Gates of a Castle.
Enter ARTHUR on the Walls of the Castle. Arth. The wall is high: and yet will I leap down: Good ground, be pitiful, and hurt me not; I am afraid; and yet I'll venture it. 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!
Enter SALISBURY, with Letters, PEMBROKE, and
Sal, Lords, I will meet him at St. Edmund's Bury; It is our safety, and we must embrace
This gentle offer of the perilous time.
Pem. Who brought that letter from the Cardinal? Sal. Count Chatillon a noble lord of France; Whose private with me, of the Dauphin's love, Is much more general than these lines import. Ess. To-morrow morning-let us meet him then.
Faul. Once more to-day well met, distemper'd lords!
The King, by me, requests your presence straight.
Sal. The King hath dispossess'd himself of us; We'll not attend the foot,
That leaves the print of blood where'er it walks:
Faul. Whate'er you think, good words, I think, were best,
Ess. Our griefs, and not our manners, reason now. Faul. But there is little reason in your grief; Therefore, 'twere reason, you had manners now. Pem. Sir, sir, impatience hath his privilege, Faul. "Tis true; to hurt his master, no man else. Sal. This is the prison:-What is he lies here? [Seeing ARTHUR. Pem. O death, made proud with pure and princely beauty!
The earth had not a hole to hide this deed.
Sal. Murder, as hating what himself hath done, Doth lay it open, to urge on revenge.
Ess. Or, when he doom'd this beauty to a grave, Found it too precious-princely for a grave.
Sal. Sir Richard, what think, you? Have you be-
Or have you read, or heard,-or could you think,-
Sal. If that it be the work of any