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To swear, swear only not to be forsworn : That nothing can allay, nothing but blood,
Else, what a mockery should it be to swear? The blood, and dearest-valu'd blood of France.
But thou dost swear only to be forsworn;

X. Phi. Thy rage shall burn thee up, and thou And most forsworn, to keep what thou dost swear.

shalt turn Therefore, thy latter vows, against thy first, To ashes, ere our blood shall quench that fire : Is in thyself rebellion to thyself:

Look to thyself, thou art in jeopardy. And better conquest never canst thou make,

K. John. No more than he that threats. — To Than arm thy constant and thy nobler parts

arms let's hie!

[Ereunt. Against those giddy loose suggestions : Upon which better part our prayers come in,

SCENE II. Plains near Angiers.
If thou vouchsafe them : but, if not, then know,
The peril of our curses light on thee;

Alarums ; Ercursions. Enter the Bastard, with So heavy, as thou shalt not shake them off,

AUSTRIA's head. But, in despair, die under their black weight. Bast. Now, by my life, thisday grows wondrous hot; Aust. Rebellion, flat rebellion !

Some airy devil hovers in the sky, Bast.

Will't not be ? And pours down mischief. Austria's head lie there, Will not a calf's skin stop that mouth of thine ? While Philip breathes.

Lew. Father, to arms !
Upon thy wedding day?

Enter King John, Arthur, and HUBERT. Against the blood that thou hast married ?

K.John. Hubert, keep this boy:- Philip, make up: What, shall our ast be kept with slaughter'd My mother is assailed in our tent, men?

And ta'en, I fear. Shall braying trumpets, and loud churlish drums, - Bast.

My lord, I rescu'd her;
Clamours of hell, — be measures 5 to our pomp? Her highness is in safety, fear you not :
O, husband, hear me!- ah, alack, how new But on, my liege : for very little pains
Is husband in my mouth! even for that name, Will bring this labour to an happy end. (Exeunt.
Which till this time my tongue did ne'er pronounce,
Upon my knee I beg, go not to arms

SCENE III. - The same.
Against mine uncle.
O, upon my knee,

Alarums; Excursions ; Retreat. Enter King John, Made hard with kneeling, I do pray to thee,

ELINOR, ARTHUR, the Bastard, HUBERT, and Lords. Thou virtuous Dauphin, alter not the doom

K. John. So shall it be ; your grace shall stay Fore-thought by heaven.


[T, ELINOR. Blanch. Now shall I see thy love; What motive may So strongly guarded. — Cousin, look not sad: Be stronger with thee than the name of wife ?

[To ARTHUR. Const. That which upholdeth him that thee upholds, Thy grandam loves thee; and thy uncle will His honour; O, thine honour, Lewis, thine honour! | As dear be to thee as thy father was.

Lew. I muse©, your majesty doth seem so cold, Arth. O, this will make my mother die with grief. When such profound respects do pull you on. K. John. Cousin, [To the Bastard.] away for Pand. I will denounce a curse upon his head.

England; haste before : K. Phi. Thou shalt not need : - England, I'll And, ere our coming, see thou shake the bags fall from thee.

Of hoarding abbots; angels 8 imprison'd Const. O fair return of banish'd majesty! Set thou at liberty : the fat ribs of peace Eli. O foul revolt of French inconstancy ! Must by the hungry now be fed upon : K. John. France, thou shalt rue this hour within Use our commission in its utmost force. this hour.

Bast. Bell, book, and candle shall not drive me Bast. Old time, the clock-setter, that bald sexton

back, time,

When gold and silver becks me to come on. Is it as he will ? well then, France shall rue. I leave your highness : — Grandam, I will pray Blanch. The sun's o'ercast with blood; Fair day, (If ever I remember to be holy,) adieu !

For your fair safety ; so I kiss your hand. Which is the side that I must go withal ?

Eli. Farewell, my gentle cousin. I am with both : each army hath a hand;

K. John.

Coz, farewell. And, in their rage, I having hold of both,

[Exit Bastard. They whirl asunder, and dismember me.

Eli. Come hither, little kinsman ; hark, a word. Husband, I cannot pray that thou mayst win;

(She takes ARTHUR aside. Uncle, I needs must pray that thou mayst lose ; K. John. Come hither, Hubert. O my gentle Father, I may not wish the fortune thine ;

Hubert, Grandam, I will not wish thy wishes thrive:

We owe thee much; within this wall of flesh Whoever wins, on that side shall I lose;

There is a soul, counts thee her creditor, Assured loss, before the match be play'd.

And with advantage means to pay thy love : Lew. Lady, with me; with me thy fortune lies.

And, my good friend, thy voluntary oath Blanch. There where my fortune lives, there my Lives in this bosom, dearly cherished. life dies.

Give me thy hand.

I had a thing to say, K. John. Cousin, go draw our puissance 7 to- But I will fit it with some better time. gether.

[Exit Bastard.

By heaven, Hubert, I am almost asham'd France, I am burn'd up with inflaming wrath ;

To say what good respect I have of thee. A rage, whose heat hath this condition,

Hub. I am much bounden to your majesty. 5 Music for dancing.

6 Wonder. 7 Force

8 Gold coin.

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6. John. Good friend, thou hast no cause to say Lew. What he hath won, that hath he fortified : so yet:

So hot a speed with such advice disposid, But thou shalt have; and creep time ne'er so slow, Such temperate order in so fierce a cause, Yet it shall come, for me to do thee good.

Doth want example: Who hath read, or heard, I had a thing to say, But let it go:

Of any kindred action like to this? The sun is in the heaven, and the proud day, K. Phi. Well could I bear that England had this Attended with the pleasures of the world,

praise, Is all too wanton, and too full of gawds 9,

So we could find some pattern of our shame. To give me audience : - If the midnight bell Did, with his iron tongue and brazen mouth,

Enter CONSTANCE. Sound one unto the drowsy race of night;

Look, who comes here! a grave unto a soul; If this same were a church-yard where we stand, Holding the eternal spirit, against her will, And thou possessed with a thousand wrongs; In the vile prison of afflicted breath : Or if that surly spirit, melancholy,

I pr’ythee, lady, go away with me. Had bak'd thy blood, and made it heavy, thick ; Const. Lo, now! now see the issue of your peace! (Which, else, runs tickling up and down the veins, K. Phi. Patience, good lady! comfort, gentle Making that idiot, laughter, keep men's eyes,

Constance ! And strain their cheeks to idle merriment,

Const. No, I defy5 all counsel, all redress, A passion hateful to my purposes ;)

But that which ends all counsel, true redress, Or if that thou couldst see me without eyes, Death, death : – O amiable lovely death! Hear me without thine ears, and make reply Arise forth from the couch of lasting night, Without a tongue, using conceit' alone,

Thou hate and terror to prosperity, Without eyes, ears, and harmful sound of words; And I will kiss thy détestable bones; Then, in despite of brooded watchful day,

And put my eye-balls in thy vaulty brows; I would into thy bosom pour my thoughts : And ring these fingers with thy household worms; But, ah, I will not : - Yet I love thee well; And stop this gap of breath with fulsome dust, And, by my troth, I think, thou lov'st me well. And be a carrion monster like thyself :

Hub. So well, that what you bid me undertake, Come, grin on me, and I will think'st thou smil'st, Though that my death were adjunct ? to my act, And buss thee as thy wife! Misery's love, By heaven, I'd do't.

0, come to me. K. John. Do not I know, thou would'st ? K. Phi.

O fair affliction, peace. Good Hubert, Hubert, Hubert, throw thine eye Const. No, no, I will not, having breath to On yon young boy: I'll tell thee what, my friend,

cry: He is a very serpent in my way;

0, that my tongue were in the thunder's mouth! And, wheresoe'er this foot of mine doth tread, Then with a passion would I shake the world ; He lies before me: Dost thou understand me? And rouse from sleep that fell anatomy, Thou art his keeper.

Which cannot hear a lady's feeble voice, Hub.

And I will keep him so, Which scorns a modern 6 invocation. That he shall not offend your majesty.

Pand. Lady, you utter madness, and not sorrow, K. John. Death.

Const. Thou art not holy to belie me so;
My lord ?

I am not mad : this hair I tear, is mine;
K. John.

My name is Constance; I was Geffrey's wife ; Hub.

He shall not live. Young Arthur is my son, and he is lost : K. John.

Enough. I am not mad; I would to heaven, I were ! I could be merry now: Hubert, I love thee; For then, 'tis like I should forget myself : Well, I'll not say what I intend for thee;

O, if I could, what grief should I forget!
Remember. Madam, fare you well :

Preach some philosophy, to make me mad,
I'll send those powers o'er to your majesty. And thou shalt be canoniz'd, cardinal;
Eli. My blessing go with thee !

For, being not mad, but sensible of grief,
K. John.

For England, cousin : My reasonable part produces reason Hubert shall be your man, attend on you

How I may be deliver'd of these woes, With all true duty. - On toward Calais, ho ! And teaches me to kill or hang myself :

[Exeunt. If I were mad, I should forget my son ;

Or madly think, a babe of clouts were he : SCENE IV. - The same. The French King's Tent. I am not mad; too well, too well I feel

The different plague of each calamity. Enter King Philip, Lewis, PanduLPH, and

K. Phi. Bind up those tresses: 0, what love I note Attendants.

In the fair multitude of those her hairs ! K. Phi. So, by a roaring tempest on the flood,

Where but by chance a silver drop hath fallen, A whole armado 3 of convicted 4 sail

Even to that drop ten thousand wiry friends
Is scatter'd and disjoin'd from fellowship.

Do glew themselves in sociable grief;
Pand. Courage and comfort! all shall yet go well. Like true, inseparable, faithful loves,
K. Phi. What can go well, when we have run so Sticking together in calamity.
ill ?

Const. To England, if you will.
Are we not beaten ? Is not Angiers lost ?

K. Phi.

Bind up your hairs. Arthur ta'en prisoner ? divers dear friends slain ?

Const. Yes, that I will; and wherefore will I And bloody England into England gone,

do it? O'erhearing interruption, spite of France ?

I tore them from their bonds: and cried aloud,

O that these hands could so redeem my son, 9 Showy ornaments.

I Conception. 9 Joined. 3 Fleet of war. 4 Overcome.

5 Refuse.

6 Common

A grave.

As they have given these hairs their liberty !

Shall blow each dust, each straw, each little rub, But now I envy at their liberty,

Out of the path which shall directly lead And will again commit them to their bonds, Thy foot to England's throne; and, therefore, mark. Because my poor child is a prisoner.

John hath seiz'd Arthur; and it cannot be, And, father cardinal, I have heard you say, That, whiles warm life plays in that infant's veins, That we shall see and know our friends in heaven; | The misplac'd John should entertain an hour, If that be true, I shall see my boy again :

One minute, nay, one quiet breath of rest : For since the birth of Cain, the first male child, A sceptre snatch'd with an unruly hand, To him that did but yesterday suspire 7,

Must be as boisterously maintain'd as gain'd: There was not such a gracious 8 creature born. And he that stands upon a slippery place, But now will canker sorrow eat my bud,

Makes nice of no vile hold to stay him up: And chase the native beauty from his cheek, That John may stand, then Arthur needs must fall; And he will look as hollow as a ghost;

So be it, for it cannot be but so. As dim and meagre as an ague's fit;

Lew. But what shall I gain by young Arthur's And so he'll die; and, rising so again,

fall ? When I shall meet him in the court of heaven Pand. You, in the riglit of lady Blanch, your I shall not know him: therefore never, never

wife, Must I behold my pretty Arthur more.

May then make all the claim that Arthur did. Pand. You hold too heinous a respect of grief. Lew. And lose it, life and all, as Arthur did. Const. He talks to me that never had a son. Pand. How green are you, and fresh in this old K. Phi. You are as fond of grief, as of your child.

world! Const. Grief fills the room up of my absent child, John lays you plots; the times conspire with you: Lies in his bed, walks up and down with me; For he that steeps his safety in true blood, Puts on his pretty looks, repeats his words, Shall find but bloody safety, and untrue. Remembers me of all his gracious parts,

This act, so evilly born, shall cool the hearts Stuffs out his vacant garments with his form; Of all his people, and freeze up their zeal ; Then have I reason to be fond of grief.

That none so small advantage shall step forth. Fare you well: had you such a loss as I,

To check his reign, but they will cherish it: I could give better comfort than you do.

No natural exhalation in the sky, I will not keep this form upon my head,

No scape of nature, no distemper'd day, [Tearing off her head-dress. No common wind, no customed event, When there is such disorder in my wit.

But they will pluck away his natural cause, O lord, my boy, my Arthur, my fair son !

And call them meteors, prodigies, and signs, My life, my joy, my food, my all the world! Abortives, presages, and tongues of heaven, My widow-comfort, and my sorrow's cure. [Erit. Plainly denouncing vengeance upon John. K. Phi. I fear some outrage, and I'll follow her. Lew. May be, he will not touch young Arthur's


life, Lew. There's nothing in this world can make me But hold himself safe in his prisonment. joy:

Pand. O, sir, when he shall hear of your approach, Life is as tedious as a twice-told tale,

If that young Arthur be not gone already, Vexing the dull ear of a drowsy man;

Even at that news he dies ; and then the heart And bitter shame hath spoil'd the sweet world's Of all his people shall revolt from him, taste,

And kiss the lips of unacquainted change ; That it yields nought but shame and bitterness. And pick strong matter of revolt, and wrath,

Pand. Before the curing of a strong disease, Out of the bloody fingers' ends of John. Even in the instant of repair and health,

Methinks, I see this hurly all on foot ; The fit is strongest ; evils that take leave,

And, 0, what better matter breeds for you, On their departure most of all show evil:

Than I have nam'd! – The bastard Faulconbridge What have you lost, by losing of this day? Is now in England, ransacking the church,

Lew. All days of glory, joy, and happiness. Offending charity : If but a dozen French

Pand. If you had won it, certainly you had. Were there in arms, they would be as a call No, no: when fortune means to men most good, To train ten thousand English to their side ; She looks upon them with a threatening eye. Or, as a little snow, tumbled about, 'Tis strange, to think how much king John hath lost Anon becomes a mountain. O noble Dauphin, In this which he accounts so clearly won :

Go with me to the king : 'Tis wonderful, Are not you griev'd that Arthur is his prisoner? What may be wronght out of their discontent :

Lew. As heartily as he is glad he hath him. Now that their souls are topful of offence,

Pand. Your mind is all as youthful as your blood. For England go; I will whet on the king. Now hear me speak with a prophetick spirit; Lew. Strong reasons make strong actions ; Let For even the breath of what I mean to speak 7 Breathe.

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

8 Graceful

us go;


SCENE I. - Northampton. A Room in the Castle. | And ne'er have spoke a loving word to you;

But you at your sick service had a prince.
Enter HUBERT and two Attendants.

Nay, you may think my love was crafty love, Hub. Heat me these irons hot: and look thou And call it cunning; Do, an if you will : stand

If heaven be pleas'd that you must use me ill, Within the arras 9: when I strike my foot

Why, then you must. — Will you put out mine eyes? Upon the bosom of the ground, rush forth : These eyes, that never did, nor never shall, And bind the boy, which you shall find with me,

So much as frown on you? Fast to the chair : be heedful: hence, and watch. Hub.

I have sworn to do it; 1 Altend. I hope your warrant will bear out the And with hot irons must I burn them out. deed.

Arth. Ah, none, but in this iron age, would do it! Hub. Uncleanly scruples ! Fear not you: look The iron of itself, though heat red-hot, to't.

[Ereunt Attendants. Approaching near these eyes, would drink my tears, Young lad, come forth ; I have to say with you. And quench his fiery indignation,

Even in the matter of mine innocence :
Enter ArthuR.

Nay, after that, consume away in rust,
Arth. Good-morrow, Hubert.

But for containing fire to harm mine eye. Hub.

Good-morrow, little prince. Are you more stubborn-hard than hammer'd iron ? Arth. As little prince having so great a title

An if an angel should have come to me, To be more prince,) as may be. You are sad. And told me, Hubert should put out mine eyes, Hub. Indeed, I have been merrier.

I would not have believ'd no tongue, but Hubert's. Arth. Mercy on me! Hub. Come forth.

[Slamps. Methinks, no body should be sad but I: Yet I remember, when I was in France,

Re-enler Attendants, with Cord, Irons, &c. Young gentlemen would be as sad as night, Do as I bid you do. Only for wantonness. By my christendom,

Arth. O, save me, Hubert, save me! my eyes So I were out of prison and kept sheep,

are out, I should be merry as the day is long ;

Even with the fierce looks of these bloody men. And so I would be here, but that I doubt

Hub. Give me the iron, I say, and bind him here. My uncle practises more harm to me:

Arth. Alas! what need you be so boist'rous rough? He is afraid of me, and I of him :

I will not struggle, I will stand stone-still. Is it my fault that I was Geffrey's son ?

For heaven's sake, Hubert, let me not be bound ! No, indeed, is't not; And I would to heaven,

Nay, hear me, Hubert! drive these men away, I were your son, so you would love me, Hubert,

And I will sit as quiet as a lamb; Hub. If I talk to him, with his innocent prate

I will not stir, nor wince, nor speak a word, He will awake my mercy which lies dead :

Nor look upon the iron angerly : Therefore, I will be sudden and despatch. [Aside. Thrust but these men away, and I'll forgive you,

Arth. Are you sick, Hubert? you look pale to-day: Whatever torment you do put me to. In sooth, I would you were a little sick,

Hub. Go, stand within ; let me alone with him. That I might sit all night, and watch with you: 1 Attend. I am best pleas'd to be from such a I warrant I love you more than you do me.


{Ereunt Attendants. Hub. His words do take possession of

my bosom.

Arth. Alas! I then have chid away my friend; Read here, young Arthur. [Showing a paper.] How He hath a stern look, but a gentle heart :now, foolish rheum :

[ Aside. Let him come back, that his compassion may Turning dispiteous torture out of door!

Give life to yours. I must be brief; lest resolution drop


Come, boy, prepare yourself. Out at mine eyes, in tender womanish tears.

Arth. Is there no remedy? Can you not read it ? is it not fair writ?


None, but to lose your eyes. Arth. Too fairly, Hubert, for so foul effect :

Arth. O heaven! - that there were but a mote
Must you with hot irons burn out both mine eyes?
Hub. Young boy, I must.

A grain, a dust, a gnat, a wand'ring hair,
And will you ?

Any annoyance in that precious sense !

And I will, Then, feeling what small things are boisťrous there, Arth. Have you the heart? When your head did Your vile intent must needs seem horrible. but ake,

Hub. Is this your promise ? go to, hold your I knit my handkerchief about your brows,

tongue. (The best I had, a princess wrought it me,)

Arth. Hubert, the utterance of a brace of tongues And I did never ask it you again :

Must needs want pleading for a pair of eyes : And with my hand at midnight held your head ;

Let me not hold my tongue; let me not, Hubert ! And, like the watchful minutes to the hour,

Or, Hubert, if you will, cut out my tongue, Still and anon cheer'd up the heavy time;

So I may keep mine eyes ; O, spare mine eyes; Saying, What lack you?'and, Where lies your grief? Though to no use, but still to look on you! Or, What good love may I perform for you?

Lo, by my troth, the instrument is cold, Many a poor man's son would have lain still,

And would not harm me, 9 Tapestry,


I can heat it, boy.

in yours,

Arth. No, in good sooth : the fire is dead with | They do confound their skill in covetousness*7 : grief,

And, oftentimes, excusing of a fault, Being create for comfort, to be us'd

Doth make the fault the worse by the excuse ;
In undeserv'd extremes !: See else, yourself; As patches, set upon a little breach,
There is no malice in this burning coal ;

Discredit more in hiding of the fault,
The breath of heaven hath blown his spirit out, Than did the fault before it was so patch'd.
And strew'd repentant ashes on his head.

Sal. To this effect before you were new crown'd, Hub. But with my breath I can revive it, boy. We breath'd our counsel: but it pleas'd your highness

Arth. And if you do, you will but make it blush, To overbear it; and we are all well pleas'd; And glow with shame of your proceedings, Hubert: Since all and every part of what we would, Nay, it, perchance, will sparkle in your eyes ; Doth make a stand at what your highness will. And, like a dog that is compellid to fight,

K. John. Some reasons of this double coronation Snatch at his master that doth tarre 2 him on. I have possess'd you with, and think them strong ; All things, that you should use to do me wrong, And more, more strong, (when lesser is my fear,) Deny their office: only you do lack

I shall indue you with : Mean time, but ask That mercy, which fierce fire, and iron, extends, What you would have reform'd that is not well; Creatures of note, for mercy-lacking uses.

And well shall you perceive, how willingly Hub. Well, see to live; I will not touch thine eyes I will both hear and grant you your requests. For all the treasure that thine uncle owes 3 :

Pem. Then I, (as one that am the tongue of these Yet am I sworn, and I did purpose, boy,

To sound 8 the purposes of all their hearts,) With this same very iron to burn them out. Both for myself and them, (but chief of all,

Arth. O, now you look like Hubert! all this while Your safety, for the which myself and them You were disguised.

Bend their best studies,) heartily request Hub.

Peace: no more. Adieu ; The enfranchisement of Arthur; whose restraint Your uncle must not know but you are dead : Doth move the murmuring lips of discontent I'll fill these dogged spies with false reports. To break into this dangerous argument, And, pretty child, sleep doubtless, and secure, If, what in rest you have, in right you hold, That Hubert, for the wealth of all the world, Why then your fears, (which as they say, attend Will not offend thee.

The steps of wrong,) should move you to mew up Arth. O heaven! - I thank you, Hubert. Your tender kinsman, and to choke his days Hub. Silence; no more: Go closely 4 in with me; With barbarous ignorance, and deny his youth Much danger do I undergo for thee. (Exeunt. The rich advantage of good exercise ?

That the time's enemies may not have this SCENE II. A Room of State in the Palace.


grace occasions, let it be our suit,

Enter King John, crowned ; PEMBROKE, Salisbury, which for our goods we do no further ask,


have bid us ask his liberty ; and other Lords. The King takes his State.

Than whereupon our weal, on you depending, K. John. Here once again we sit, once again Counts it your weal, he have his liberty. crown'd,

K. John. Let it be so; I do commit his youth And look'd upon, I hope, with cheerful eyes. Pem. This once again, but that your highness

Enter HUBERT. pleas'd,

To your direction. — Hubert, what news with you Was once superfluous: you were crown'd before, Pem. This is the man should do the bloody deed; And that high royalty was ne'er pluck'd off; He show'd his warrant to a friend of mine : The faiths of men ne'er stained with revolt; The image of a wicked heinous fault Fresh expectation troubled not the land,

Lives in his eye ; that close aspéct of his With any long'd-for change, or better state.

Does show the mood of a much-troubled breast; Sal. Therefore, to be possess'd with double pomp, And I do fearfully believe, 'tis done, To guard 5 a title that was rich before,

What we so fear'd he had a charge to do. To gild refined gold, to paint the lily,

Sal. The colour of the king doth come and go, To throw a perfume on the violet,

Between his purpose and his conscience, To smooth the ice, or add another hue

Like heralds 'twixt two dreadful battles set : Unto the rainbow, or with taper-light

His passion is so ripe, it needs must break. To seek the beauteous eye of heaven to garnish ?, Pem. And, when it breaks, I fear, will issue thence Is wasteful, and ridiculous excess.

The foul corruption of a sweet child's death. Pem. But that your royal pleasure must be done, K. John. We cannot hold mortality's strong This act is as an ancient tale new told ;

hand: – And, in the last repeating, troublesome,

Good lords, although my will to give is living, Being urged at a time unseasonable.

The suit which you demand is gone and dead : Sal. In this the antique and well-noted face He tells us, Arthur is deceas'd to-night. Of plain old form is much disfigured :

Sal. Indeed, we fear'd, his sickness was past cure. And, like a shifted wind unto a sail,

Pem. Indeed we heard how near his death he was, It makes the course of thoughts to fetch about: Before the child himself felt he was sick: Startles and frights consideration ;

This must be answer'd, either here, or hence. Makes sound opinion sick, and truth suspected, K. John. Why do you bend such solemn brows on For putting on so new a fashion'd robe.

me? Pem. When workmen strive to do better than well, Think you, I bear the shears of destiny ?

Have I commandment on the pulse of life? In cruelty I have not deserved. 3 Owns.

Sal. It is apparent foul-play; and 'tis shame, 6 Decorate 7 Desire of excelling.

2 Set him on.

4 Secretly

8 Publish.


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