A rage, whose heat hath this condition, To ashes, ere our blood shall quench that fire: K. John. No more than he that threats. - To [Exeunt. SCENE II. The same. Plains near Angiers. Alarums; Excursions. Enter the Bastard, with AUSTRIA'S head. Bast. Now, by my life, this day grows wondrous hot; Some airy devil hovers in the sky, And pours down mischief. Austria's head, lie there; Enter KING JOHN, ARTHUR, and HUBERT. up: My mother is assailed in our tent, Bast. : But thou shalt have: and creep time ne'er so slow The sun is in the heaven, and the proud day, Had bak'd thy blood, and made it heavy, thick; My lord, I rescu'd her; Alarums; Excursions; Retreat. Enter KING JOHN, K. John. So shall it be; your grace shall stay [To ARTHUR. 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 K. John. Cousin, [to the Bastard.] away for And, ere our coming, see thou shake the bags Bast. Bell, book, and candle shall not drive me When gold and silver becks me to come on. (If ever I remember to be holy,) Coz, farewell. El. 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 But I will fit it with some better time. Hub. So well, that what you bid me undertake, K. John. Do not I know, thou would'st? And, wheresoe'er this foot of mine doth tread, Hub. And I will keep him so, Hub. K. John. Hub. K. John. My lord? Arthur ta'en prisoner? divers dear friends slain? And bloody England into England gone, O'erbearing interruption, spite of France? Lew. What he hath won, that hath he fortified: So hot a speed with such advice dispos'd, Such temperate order in so fierce a cause, Doth want example: Who hath read, or heard, Of any kindred action like to this? K. Phi. Well could I bear that England had this praise, So we could find some pattern of our shame. Enter CONSTANCE. Look, who comes here! a grave unto a soul; I pr'ythee, lady, go away with me. Const. Lo, now! now see the issue of your peace! K. Phi. Patience, good lady! comfort, gentle Constance ! Const. No, I defy all counsel, all redress, Come, grin on me; and I will think thou smil'st, K. Phi. O fair affliction, peace. Const. No, no, I will not, having breath to cry :O, that my tongue were in the thunder's mouth! Then with a passion would I shake the world; And rouse from sleep that fell anatomy, Which cannot hear a lady's feeble voice, Which scorns a modern invocation. Pand. Lady, you utter madness, and not sorrow. Const. Thou art not holy to belie me so; I am not mad this hair I tear, is mine; My name is Constance; I was Geffrey's wife; Young Arthur is my son, and he is lost : I am not mad;- I would to heaven, I were! For then, 'tis like I should forget myself: O, if I could, what grief should I forget! Preach some philosophy to make me mad, And thou shalt be canoniz'd, cardinal; For, being not mad, but sensible of grief, My reasonable part produces reason How I may be deliver'd of these woes, And teaches me to kill or hang myself: If I were mad, I should forget my son; Or madly think, a babe of clouts were he : I am not mad; too well, too well I feel The different plague of each calamity. K. Phi. Bind up those tresses: O, what love I I tore them from their bonds; and cried aloud, And will again commit them to their bonds, And, father cardinal, I have heard you say, That we shall see and know our friends in heaven. If that be true, I shall see my boy again; For, since the birth of Cain, the first male child, Pand. You hold too heinous a respect of grief. [Tearing off her head-dress. When there is such disorder in my wit. O lord! my boy, my Arthur, my fair son ! My life, my joy, my food, my all the world! My widow-comfort, and my sorrows' cure! [Exit. K. Phi. I fear some outrage, and I'll follow her. [Exil Lew. There's nothing in this world, can make me joy : Life is as tedious as a twice-told tale, Lew. All days of glory, joy, and happiness. And he, that stands upon a slippery place, Lew. But what shall I gain by young Arthur's fall? Pand. You, in the right of lady Blanch your May then make all the claim that Arthur did. John lays you plots; the times conspire with you: 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 hears 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 strong actions: Let us go; If you say, ay, the king will not say, no. [Exeunt. Arth. Good morrow, Mercy on me! To be more prince,) as may be. Is it my fault that I was Geffrey's son? Arth. Are you sick, Hubert? you look pale today: In sooth, I would you were a little sick; som. Read here, young Arthur. [Showing a paper.] How now, foolish rheum! Turning dispiteous torture out of door! [Aside. 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 ake, I knit my handkerchief about your brows, And with my hand at midnight held your head; These eyes, that never did, nor never shall, 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! Are you more stubborn-hard than hammer'd iron? [Stamps. Re-enter Attendants, with cords, irons, &c. Do as I bid you do. Arth. O, save me, Hubert, save me! my eyes are out, 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? 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. I am best pleas'd 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 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, 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. 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. Was once superfluous: you were crown'd before, Sal. Therefore, to be possess'd with double pomp, To guard a title that was rich before, To smooth the ice, or add another hue To seek the beauteous eye of heaven to garnish, Pem. But that your royal pleasure must be done, Sal. In this, the antique and well-noted face It makes the course of thoughts to fetch about; 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 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 K. John. They burn in indignation; I repent; these, To sound the purposes of all their hearts,) The enfranchisement of Arthur; whose restraint K. John. Let it be so; I do commit his youth To your direction. — Hubert, what news with you? Sal. The colour of the king doth come and go, The foul corruption of a sweet child's death. K. John. We cannot hold mortality's strong Good lords, although my will to give is living, Sal. Indeed, we fear'd, his sickness was past cure. 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. A fearful eye thou hast; Where is that blood, That I have seen inhabit in those cheeks? Pour down thy weather:-How goes all in France? Mess. From France to England. - 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; K. John. O, where hath our intelligence been drunk? Where hath it slept? Where is my mother's care? That such an army could be drawn in France, And she not hear of it? Mess. My liege, her ear Is stopp'd with dust; the first of April, died Your noble mother: And, as I hear, my lord, The lady Constance in a frenzy died Three days before but this from rumour's tongue I idly heard; if true, or false, I know not. 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 travelled 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 hang'd: Deliver him to safety, and return, For I must use thee. O my gentle cousin, [Erit 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: |