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 now wish the fortune thine;
Grandam, 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.

K. John. Cousin, go draw our puissance together,[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 valued 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.

let's hie!

K. John. No more than he that threats.-To arms [Exeunt. SCENE II. The same. Plains near Angiers. Alarums; Excursions. Enter the Bastard, with

AUSTRIA'S Head.

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.
Bust. Bell, book, and candle shall not drive me
back;

When gold and silver becks me to come on.
I leave your highness :-Grandain, 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.

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 churchyard 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 cou'd'st see me without eyes,
Hear me without thine ears, and make reply
Without a tongue, using conceit alone,
Without eyes, ears, and harmful sound of words;
Then, in despite of brooded" watchful day,
But ah, I will not:-Yet, I love thee well;
I would into thy bosom peur my thoughts:
And, by my troth, I think, thou lov'st me well.
Hub. So well, that what you bid me undertake,
Though that my death were adjunct to my act,
By heaven, I'd do't.

3 Gold coin of that name.

4 It appears from Johnson's Ecclesiastical Laws, that sentence of excommunication was to be explained in order in English, with bells tolling and candles lighted, that it may cause the greater dread; for laymen have greater regard to this solemnity than to the effect of such sentences."

5 Showy ornaments.

6 The old copy reads into, the emendation is Theobald's.

7 Conception.

8 Pope proposed to read broad-eyed, instead of brood. ed. The alteration, it must be confessed, is elegant, but unnecessary. The allusion is to the vigilance of animals while brooding, or with a brood of young ones under their protection. Brooded may be used for brood

discontenting, in other places of these plays. To sit on brood, or abrood, is the old term applied to birds during the period of incubation. All the metaphorical uses of the verb to brood are common to the Latin incubo.

Lies in his bed, walks up and down with me;
Puts on his pretty looks, repeats his words,
Remembers me of all his gracious parts,
Stuffs out his vacant garments with his form;
Then, have I reason to be fond of grief.
Fare you well: had you such a loss as I,
I could give better comfort than you do.-
I will not keep this form upon my head,

[Tearing of her head-dress. When there is such disorder in my wit. 1) lord, my boy, my Arthur, my fair son! My life, my joy, my food, my all the world! My widow-comfort, and my sorrow's cure! [Exit. K. Phi. I fear some outrage, and I'll follow her. [Exit. Lew. There's nothing in this world can make me joy i

Life is as tedious as a twice-told tale,'
Vexing the dull ear of a drowsy man;

And bitter shame hath spoil'd the sweet world's taste,

That it yields nought, but shame, and bitterness.
Pand. Before the curing of a strong disease,
Even in the instant of repair and health,
The fit is strongest; evils, that take leave,
On their departure most of all show evil :
What have you lost by losing of this day?

Lew. All days of glory, joy, and happiness.
Pand. If you had won it, certainly, you had.
No, no: when fortune means to men most good,
She looks upon them with a threatening eye.
"Tis strange, to think how much King John hath lost
In this which he accounts so clearly won:
Are not you griev'd, that Arthur is his prisoner?
Lew. As heartily, as he is glad he hath him.
Pand. Your mind is all as youthful as your blood.
Now hear me speak, with a prophetic spirit;
For even the breath of what I mean to speak
Shall blow each dust, each straw, each little rub,
Out of the path which shall directly lead
Thy foot to England's throne; and, therefore, mark.
John hath seiz'd Arthur; and it cannot be,
That, whiles warm life plays in that infant's veins,
The misplac'd John should entertain an hour,
One minute, nay, one quiet breath of rest:
A sceptre, snatch'd with an unruly hand,
Must be as boisterously maintain'd as gain'd:
And he, that stands upon a slippery place,
Makes nice of no vile hold to stay him up:
That John may stand, then Arthur needs must fall;
So be it, for it cannot be but so.

Lew. But what shall I gain by young Arthur's fall?

Pand. You, in the right of Lady Blanch your

wife,

John lays you plots; the time conspires with you:
For he, that steeps his safety in true blood,
Shall find but bloody safety, and untrue.
This act, so evilly born, shall cool the hearts
Of all his people, and freeze up their zeal;
That none so small advantage shall step forth,

1 'For when thou art angry, all our days are gone, we bring our years to an end, as it were a tale that is told. Psalm xc.

2 The old copy reads trord's. The alteration was made by Pope. Malone thinks that it is unnecessary; and that by the sweet word, life is meant. Steevens prefers Pope's emendation, which is countenanced by Hamlet's

To check his reign, but they will cherish it:
No natural exhalation in the sky,
No scape of nature, no distemper'd day,
No common wind, no customed event,
But they will pluck away his natural cause,
And call them meteors, prodigies, and signs,
Abortives, presages, and tongues of heaven,
Plainly denouncing vengeance upon John.

Lew. May be, he will not touch young Arthur's life,

But hold himself safe in his prisonment.

Pand O, sir, when he shall hear of your approach, If that young Arthur be not gone already, Even at that news he dies: and then the hearts Of all his people shall revolt from him, And kiss the lips of unacquainted change; And pick strong matter of revolt, and wrath, Out of the bloody fingers' ends of John. Methinks, I see this hurly all on foot; And, O, what better matter breeds for you, Than I have nam'd!-The bastard Faulconbridge Is now in England, ransacking the church, Offending charity: If but a dozen French Were there in arms, they would be as a call To train ten thousand English to their side; Or, as a little snow," tumbled about, Anon becomes a mountain. O noble Dauphin, Go with me to the king: 'Tis wonderful, What may be wrought out of their discontent: Now that their souls are topfull of offence, For England go; I will whet on the king.

Lew. Strong reasons make strongs actions: Let us go;

If you say, ay, the king will not say, no. [Exeunt.

ACT IV.

SCENE I. Northampton. A Room in the Castle. Enter HUBERT and two Attendants.

Hub. Heat me these irons, hot: and, look thou stand

Within the arras:10 when I strike my foot Upon the bosom of the ground, rush forth: And bind the boy, which you shall find with me, Fast to the chair: be heedful: hence, and watch. 1 Attendant. I hope, your warrant will bear out the deed.

to't.

Hub. Uncleanly scruples! Fear not you look [Exeunt Attendants. Young lad, come forth; I have to say with you. Enter ARTHUR.

Arth. Good morrow, Hubert.

Hub. Good morrow, little prince. Arth. As little prince (having so great a title To be more prince,) as may be.-You are sad. Hub. Indeed, I have been merrier.

Arth.

He writes me here.'

4 The old copy reads scope. The emendation is Pope's. Shakspeare finely calls a monstrous birth an escape of nature, as if it were produced while she was busy elsewhere, or intent upon some other thing. 5 Hurly is tumult.

6 The image is taken from the manner in which birds

10 Tapestry.

So I were out of prison, and kept sheep, I should be as merry as the day is long; And so I would be here, but that I doubt My uncle practises more harm to me : He is afraid of me, and I of him:

Is it my fault that I was Geffrey's son?
No, indeed, is't not; And I would to heaven,
I were your son, so you would love me, Hubert.
Hub. If I talk to him, with his innocent prate
He will awake my mercy, which lies dead:
Therefore I will be sudden, and despatch. [Aside.
Arth. Are you sick, Hubert? you look pale to-day:
In sooth, I would you were a little sick;
That I might sit all night, and watch with you:
I warrant, I love you more than you do me.
Hub. His words do take possession of my

som.

bo

Arth. Too fairly, Hubert, for so foul effect: Must you with hot irons burn out both mine eyes? Hub. Young boy, I must. And will you?

Arth.

Hub.

And I will. Arth. Have you the heart? When your head did but ake,

I knit my handkerchief about your brows
(The best I had, a princess wrought it me,)
And I did never ask it you again:

And with my hand at midnight held your head;
And, like the watchful minutes to the hour,
Still and anon cheer'd up the heavy time;
Saying, What lack you? and, Where lies your
grief?

Or, What good love may I perform for you?
Many a poor man's son would have lain still,
And ne'er have spoke a loving word to you;
But
you at your sick service had a prince.
Nay, you may think my love was crafty love,
And call it cunning; Do, an if you will:
If heaven be pleas'd that you must use me ill,
Why, then you must.-Will you put out mine eyes?
These eyes, that never did, nor never shall,
So much as frown on you?
Hub.
I have sworn to do it;
And with hot irons must I burn them out.
Arth. Ah, none, but in this iron age, would do it!
The iron of itself, though heat' red-hot,
Approaching near these eyes, would drink my tears,
And quench his fiery indignation
Even in the matter of mine innocence:
Nay, after that, consume away in rust,
But for containing fire to harm mine eye.

Hub.

Come, boy, prepare yourself

Arth. Is there no remedy?
Hub.
None, but to lose your eyes.
Arth. O heaven!-that there were but a mote in
yours,

A grain, a dust, a gnat, a wand'ring hair,
Any annoyance in that precious sense!
Then, feeling what small things are boist'rous there,
Your vile intent must needs seem horrible.

Hub. Is this your promise? go to, hold your

tongue.

Arth. Hubert, the utterance of a brace of tongues Must needs want pleading for a pair of eyes; Let me not hold my tongue; let me not, Hubert! Or, Hubert, if you will, cut out my tongue, 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.

I can heat it, boy.

Hub. 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 y 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 tarre him on.
All things, that you should use to do me wrong,
Deny their office: only 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 owes:* 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 disguis'd.

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,

bert's.

Even with the fierce looks of these bloody men. Hub. Give me the iron I say, and bind him here. Arth. Alas! what need you be so boist'rousrough?

にな

Arth. O heaven!-I thank you, Hubert. 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; PixBROKE, SALISBURY, and other Lords. The King takes his State.

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

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

1 The participle heat, though now obsolete, was use in Shakspeare's time. He commanded that should heat the furnace one seven times more than 4 was wont to be heat.-Daniel, iii. 19.

and Fairfaxe.

4 i. e. stimulate, set him on. 5 Owns.

6 i. e. secretly, privately.

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.

ན་

Sal. Therefore, to be possess'd with double pomp,
To guard2 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, and ridiculous excess.

Pem. But that your royal pleasure must be done,

This act is as an ancient tale new told ;3
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:
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: 4
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 sound 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 his days
With barbarous ignorance, and deny his youth
The rich advantage of good exercise?10
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,

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 aspect 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,11
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?

Sal. It is apparent foul-play; and 'tis shame,
That greatness should so grossly offer it:
So thrive it in your game! and so farewell.

And find the inheritance of this poor child,
Pem. Stay yet, Lord Salisbury, I'll go with thee,
His little kingdom of a forced grave.

That blood, which ow'd12 the breadth 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.13-Never such
a power

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?