Puslapio vaizdai
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A place near Swinftead Abby.

Enter Bastard and Hubert feverally. Hub.HO's there? fpeak, ho, fpeak quickly, or I fhoot Baft. A friend. What art thou?

Hub. Of the part of England.

Baft. And whither doft thou go?

Hub. What's that to thee?

Why may not I demand of thine affairs,
As well as thou of mine?

Baft. Hubert, I think.

Hub. Thou haft a perfect thought:

I will upon all hazards well believe

Thou art my friend, that know'ft my tongue fo well:
Who art thou?

Baft. Who thou wilt; and if thou please

Thou may'st be-friend me fo much, as to think
I come one way of the Plantagenets.

Hub. Unkind remembrance! thou and

eyelefs night

Have done me fhame; brave foldier, pardon me,

That any accent breaking from thy tongue
Should 'scape the true acquaintance of mine ear.

Baft. Come, come; fans complement, what news abroad? Hub. Why here walk I, in the black brow of night,. To find you out.

Baft. Brief then: and what's the news?

Hub. O my fweet Sir, news fitting to the night, Black, fearful, comfortless, and horrible.

Baft. Shew me the very wound of this ill news,

I am no woman, I'll not fwoon at it.

Hub. The King, I fear, is poifon'd by a Monk: I left him almost speechlefs, and broke out

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8 endless ..: old edit. Warb, emend.


T'acquaint you with this evil; that you might.
The better arm you to the fudden time,
Than if you had at leisure known of this,

Baft. How did he take it? who did tafte to him?
Hub. A Monk, I tell you, a resolved villain,
Whose bowels fuddenly burft out; the King
Yet fpeaks, and peradventure may recover.

Baft. 9'Whom didft thou leave to tend his Majefty? Hub. Why, know you not? the Lords are all come back, And brought Prince Henry in their company,

At whofe requeft the King hath pardon'd them,
And they are all about his Majefty..

Baft. With-hold thine indignation, mighty heav'n!
And tempt us not to bear above our power.
I'll tell thee, Hubert, half my pow'rs this night
Paffing these flats, are taken by the tide,
Thefe Lincoln-wafhes have devoured them;
My felf, well mounted, hardly have escap❜d.
Away before: conduct me to the King,
I doubt he will be dead, or e'er I come.

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Changes to the Orchard at Swinftead Abby.
Enter Prince Henry, Salisbury and Bigot.

Henry. T is too late, the life of all his blood

•IT Is touch'd corruptibly; and his pure brain,

Which some suppose the foul's frail dwelling-house,
Doth, by the idle comments that it makes,

Foretel the ending of mortality.

Enter Pembroke.

Pemb. His Highness yet doth speak, and holds belief That being brought into the open air,


It would allay the burning quality
Of that fell poifon which affaileth him.

Henry. Let him be brought into the orchard here;
Doth he ftill rage?

Pemb. He is more patient

Than when you left him; even now he fung.
Henry. Oh vanity of sickness! fierce extreams
In their continuance will not feel themfelves.
Death having prey'd upon the outward parts
'Leaves them infenfible; his fiege is now`
Against the mind, the which he pricks and wounds
With many legions of ftrange fantafies,

Which, in their throng and prefs to that last hold,
Confound themfelves. 'Tis ftrange that death fhould fing:
I am the Cygnet to this pale, faint Swan,
Who chaunts a doleful hymn to his own death,
And from the organ-pipe of frailty fings

His foul and body to their lafting rest.

Sal. Be of good comfort, Prince, for you are born To fet a form upon that Indigeft

Which he hath left fo fhapeless and fo rude.

King John brought in.

K. John. Ay marry, now my foul hath elbow-room; It would not out at windows, nor at doors. There is fo hot a fummer in my bosom, That all my bowels crumble up to duft: I am a fcribbled form drawn with a pen Upon a parchment, and against this fire Do I fhrink up.

Henry. How fares your Majefty?


K.John. Poifon'd, ill fare! oh! dead, forfook, caft off, And none of you will bid the winter come

To thruft his icy fingers in my maw;

Nor let my kingdom's rivers take their course
Through my burn'd bofom: nor intreat the north
To make his bleak winds kifs my parched lips,

Leaves them; invifible his fiege is now

2 dead,


And comfort me with cold. I ask not much,
I beg cold comfort; and you are so strait
And fo ungrateful, you deny me that.

Henry. Oh that there were fome virtue in my tears,
That might relieve you!

K. John. The falt of them is hot. Within me is a hell, and there the poifon

Is as a fiend, confin'd to tyrannize

On unreprievable, condemned blood.




Enter Bastard.

Baft. Oh, I am fcalded with my violent motion, And spleen of fpeed to fee your Majefty.

K. John. Oh coufin, thou art come to fet mine eye:
The tackle of my heart is crackt and burnt,
And all the shrouds wherewith my life fhou'd fail
Are turned to one thread, one little hair:
My heart hath one poor ftring to stay it by,
Which holds but 'till thy news be uttered;
And then all this thou feeft is but a clod,
And model of confounded royalty.

Baft. The Dauphin is preparing hitherward,
Where heav'n he knows how we fhall anfwer him.
For, in a night, the best part of my power,
As I upon advantage did remove,

Were in the washes all, unwarily,
Devoured by the unexpected flood.

[The King dies.

Sal. You breathe thefe dead news in as dead an ear: My Liege! my Lord!- but now a King-now thus. Henry. Ev'n fo muft I run on, and ev'n fo ftop. a Baft. Art thou gone fo? I do but ftay behind To do the office for thee of revenge:

(a)—and ev'n fo ftop.

What furety of the world, what hope, what stay,
When this was now a King, and now is clay ?

Baft. Art thou gone fo?


And then my foul fhall wait on thee to heav'n,
As it on earth hath been thy fervant still.
Now, now, you stars, that move in your right fpheres,
Where be your pow'rs? fhew now your mended faiths,
And inftantly return with me again,

To push deftruction and perpetual fhame
Out of the weak door of our fainting land:
Strait let us feek, or ftrait we fhall be fought;
The Dauphin rages at our very heels.

Sal. It feems you know not then fo much as we:
The Cardinal Pandulph is within at rest,
Who half an hour fince came from the Dauphin;
And brings from him fuch offers of our peace,
As we with honour and refpect may take,
With purpose presently to leave this war.

Baft. He will the rather do it, when he fees
Our felves well finewed to our defence.

Sal. Nay, it is in a manner done already;
For many carriages he hath difpatch'd
To the fea-fide, and put his caufe and quarrel
To the difpofing of the Cardinal:

With whom your felf, my self, and other Lords,
If you think meet, this afternoon will post
To confummate this business happily.

Baft. Let it be fo; and you, my noble Prince,"
With other Princes that may best be fpar'd,
Shall wait upon your father's funeral.

Henry. At Worcester muft his body be interr'd,
For fo he will'd it.

Baft. Thither fhall it then,

And happily may your fweet felf put on
The lineal state and glory of the land!

To whom with all fubmiffion, on my knee,

I do bequeath my faithful fervices,

And true fubjection everlastingly.

Sal. And the like tender of our love we make, To reft without a fpot for evermore.

3 bright


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