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K. John. Come hither, Hubert. O my gentle Hu

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

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. 408 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 on unto the drowsy race of night; If this same were a church-yard where we stand, And thou possessed with a thousand wrongs ; Or if that surly spirit, melancholy,

410 Had bak'd thy blood, and made it heavy, thick; (Which, else, runs tickling up and down the veins, Making that ideot, laughter, keep men's eyes, And strain their cheeks to idle merriment,

A passion

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A passion hateful to my purposes)
Or if that thou could'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 despight of broad-ey'd watchful day, 490
I would into thy bosom pour my thoughts :
But, ah, I will not :-Yet I love thee well;
And, by my troth, I think, thou lov'st me well.

Hub. So well, that what you bid me undertake,
Though that


death werè adjunct to my act,
By heaven I would do it.

K. John. Do not I know thou would'st ?
Good Hubert, Hubert, Hubert, throw thine eye
On yon young boy : I'll tell thee what, my friend,
He is a very serpent in my way ;

And, wheresoe'er this foot of mine doth tread,
He lies before me : Dost thou understand me?
Thou art his keeper.

Hub. And I'll keep him so,
That he shall not offend your majesty.

K. John, Death.
Hub. My lord!
K. John. A grave.
Hub. He shall not live.
K. John. Enough.

I could be merry now : Hubert, I love thee;
Well, I'll not say what I intend for thee :
Madam, fare


well :
I'll send those powers o'er to your majesty.


Eli. My blessing go with thee!

K. John. For England, cousin, go:. Hubert shall be your man, attend on you With all true duty.-On toward Calais, ho !



The French Court. Enter King PHILIP, Lewis, PAN

DULPH, and Attendants.

K. Phil. So, by a roaring tempest on the flood, A whole armado of collected sail

450 Is scatter'd, and disjoin'd from fellowship. 1. Pand. Courage and comfort ! all shall yet go well, K. Phil. What can go well, when we have run so

Are we not beaten ? Is not Angiers lost?
Arthur ta'en prisoner a divers dear friends slain?
And bloody England into England gone,
O'er-bearing interruption, spite of France ;

Lewis. What he hath won, that hath he fortify'd :
So hot a speed with such advice disposid,
Such temperate order in so fierce a cause,
Doth want example ; Who hath read, or heard,

any kindred action like to this? K. Phil. Well could I bear that England had this

praise, So we could find some pattern of our shame.




Look, who comes here! a grave unto a soul ;
Holding the eternal spirit, against her will,
In the vile prison of afflicted breath:-
I pr’ythee, lady, go away with me.
Const. Lo, now! now see the issue of your peace !
K. Phil. Patience, good lady! comfort, gentle Cono
stance !

Const. No, I defy all counsel, all redress,
But that which ends all counsel, true redress,
Death, death !-Oh amiable lovely death!
Thou odoriferous stench/ sound rottenness!
Arise forth from the couch of lasting night,
Thou hate and terror to prosperity,
And I will kiss thy detestable bones ;
And put my eye-balls in thy vaulty brows;
And ring these fingers with thy household worms;
And stop this gasp of breath with fulsome dust, 480
And be a carrion monster like thyself:
Come, grin on me; and I will think thou smil'st,
And buss thee as thy wife! Misery's love,
Oh, come to me!

K. Phil. Oh fair affliction, peace.

Const. No, no, I will not, having breath to cry: Oh, that my tongue were in the thunder's mouth ! Then with a passion would I shake the world; And rouze 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 unholy 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: Oh, if I could, what grief should I forget! Preach some philosophy to make me mad, 500 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. Phil. Bind up those tresses : Oh, what love I note

510 In the fair multitude of those her hairs ! Where but by chance a silver drop hath fallen, Even to that drop ten thousand wiry friends Do glew themselves in sociable grief; Like true, inseparable, faithful loves, Sticking together in calamity. Const, To England, if yoll

will. K. Phil. Bind up your hairs.

Const. Yes, that I will! And wherefore will I do it? I tore them from their bonds; and cry'd aloud, 520


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