Within the arras: 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 Attend. I hope, your warrant will bear out the deed. Hub. Uncleanly scruples: fear not you: look to't.[Exeunt Attendants. Young lad, come forth; I have to say with you. Enter ARTHUR. Hubert. Arth. Good morrow, Is it my fault that I was Geffrey's son ? I were your son, so you would love me, Hubert. Hub. [Aside.] If I talk to him, with his innocent prate He will awake my mercy, which lies dead : Arth. Are you sick, Hubert? you look pale today. In sooth, I would you were a little sick; That I might sit all night, and watch with you: Hub. [Aside.] His words do take possession of my bosom. Read here, young Arthur. [Showing a paper.] [Aside.] How now, foolish rheum! Turning dispiteous torture out of door? I must be brief; lest resolution drop Out at mine eyes in tender womanish tears.- Arth. Too fairly, Hubert, for so foul effect. Must you with hot irons burn out both mine eyes? Hub. Young boy, I must. Arth. Hub. And will you? And I will. Arth. Have you the heart? When your head did but ache, I knit my handkerchief about your brows, And with my hand at midnight held your head, If heaven be pleas'd that you will use me ill, Hub. Arth. Alas! what need you be so boisterousrough? I will not struggle; I will stand stone-still. I will not stir, nor wince, nor speak a word, Thrust but these men away, and I'll forgive you, Hub. Go, stand within: let me alone with him. 1 Attend. 1 am best pleased to be from such a deed. [Exeunt Attendants. Arth. Alas! I then have chid away my friend; He hath a stern look, but a gentle heart.Let him come back, that his compassion may Give life to yours. 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 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. 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; Hub. But with my breath I can revive it, boy. Hub. Well, see to live; I will not touch thine eyes For all the treasure that thine uncle owes : 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, Sal. Therefore, to be possess'd with double pomp, 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, And in the last repeating troublesome, Being urged at a time unseasonable. Sal. In this, the antique and well-noted face It makes the course of thoughts to fetch about, Makes sound opinion sick, and truth suspected, Pem. When workmen strive to do better than well, They do confound their skill in covetousness; Doth make the fault the worse by the excuse: Sal. To this effect, before you were newcrown'd, We breath'd our counsel; but it pleas'd your high ness To overbear it, and we are all well pleas'd; K. John. Some reasons of this double coronation I have possess'd you with, and think them strong: I will both hear and grant you your requests. Th' enfranchisement of Arthur; whose restraint K. John. Let it be so: I do commit his youth To your direction.-Hubert, what news with you! The image of a wicked heinous fault Sal. The colour of the king doth come and go, 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, 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. K. John. Why do you bend such solemn brows on me? Think you, I bear the shears of destiny? Sal. It is apparent foul-play; and 'tis shame, Pem. Stay yet, lord Salisbury; I'll go with thee, That blood which ow'd 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, power For any foreign preparation, Was levied in the body of a land. The copy of your speed is learn'd by them; K. John. O! where hath our intelligence been drunk? Where hath it slept? Where is my mother's Mess. K. John. Withhold thy speed, dreadful Occasion! O! make a league with me, till I have pleas'd My discontented peers.-What! mother dead? How wildly, then, walks my estate in France!Under whose conduct came those powers of France, That thou for truth giv'st out are landed here? Mess. Under the Dauphin. Enter the Bastard, and PETER of Pomfret. K. John. Thou hast made me giddy With these ill tidings.-Now, what says the world To your proceedings? do not seek to stuff My head with more ill news, for it is full. Bast. But if you be afeard to hear the worst, Then let the worst, unheard, fall on your head. K. John. Bear with me, cousin, for I was amaz'd Under the tide; but now I breathe again Aloft the flood, and can give audience To any tongue, speak it of what it will. Bast. How I have sped among the clergymen, The sums I have collected shall express: 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 I found With many hundreds treading on his heels; To whom he sung, in rude harsh-sounding rhymes. 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: imprison him; And on that day at noon, whereon, he says, I shall yield up my crown, let him be haug'd. Deliver him to safety, and return, For I must use thee.-O my gentle cousin! [Exit HUBERT, with Peter. Hear'st thou the news abroad, who are arriv'd? Bast. The French, my lord; men's mouths are full of it: Besides, I met lord Bigot, and lord Salisbury, K. John. Bast. I will seek them out. K. John. Nay, but make haste; the better foot before. O! let me have no subject enemies, K. John. Spoke like a spriteful, noble gentle man. Go after him; for he, perhaps, shall need Mess. With all my heart, my liege. [Exit. Re-enter HUBERT. Hub. My lord, they say, five moons were seen to-night: Four fixed; and the fifth did whirl about Old men, and beldams, in the streets And he that speaks, doth gripe the hearer's wrist, 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? Why urgest thou so oft young Arthur's death? Thy hand hath murder'd him: I had a mighty cause To wish him dead, but thou hadst none to kill him. Hub. Had none, my lord! why, did you not provoke me? 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. K. John. O! when the last account 'twixt heaven and earth Is to be made, then shall this hand and seal I faintly broke with thee of Arthur's death; Made it no conscience to destroy a prince. K John. Hadst thou but shook thy head, or made a pause, When I spake darkly what I purposed; Deep shame had struck me dumb, made me break off, And those thy fears might have wrought fears in me: The deed which both our tongues held vile to name. The dreadful motion of a murderous thought, Than to be butcher of an innocent child. K. John. Doth Arthur live? O! haste thee to [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. It is our safety, and we must embrace Pem. Who brought that letter from the cardinal? Big. To-morrow morning let us meet him then. Sal. Or, rather then set forward: for 'twill be Two long days' journey, lords, or e'er we meet. Enter the Bastard. Bast. Once more to-day well-met, distemper'd lords. The king by me requests your presence straight. Sal. Our griefs, and not our manners, reason now. Bast. But there is little reason in your grief; Therefore, 'twere reason you had manners now. Pem. Sir, sir, impatience hath his privilege. Bast. 'Tis true; to hurt his master, no man else. Sal. This is the prison. What is he lies here? [Seeing ARTHUR. proud with pure and Pem. O death! made princely beauty, The earth had not a hole to hide this deed. Big. 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 beheld, |