SCENE III.

The Same. Before the Castle.

Enter ARTHUR, on the Walls.

Arth. The wall is high; and yet will I leap

down:

Good ground, be pitiful, and hurt me not!

There's few, or none, do know me; if they did,

This shipboy's semblance hath disguis'd me quite.
I am afraid; and yet I'll venture it.

If I get down, and do not break my limbs,
I'll find a thousand shifts to get away:

As good to die, and go, as die, and stay.

[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.

Sal. Lords, I will meet him at saint Edmund'sBury;

It is our safety, and we must embrace

This gentle offer of the perilous time.

Pemb. Who brought that letter from the cardinal? Sal. The count Melun, a noble lord of France; Whose private with me 47, of the Dauphin's love, Is much more general than these lines import.

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. The king hath dispossess'd himself of us
We will not line his thin bestained cloak
With our pure honours, nor attend the foot
That leaves the print of blood where-e'er it walks :
Return, and tell him so; we know the worst.

Bast. Whate'er you think, good words, I think, were best.

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. Pemb. 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. Pemb. O death, made proud with pure and princely

beauty!

The earth had not a hole to hide this deed.

Sal. Murder, as hating what himself hath done, Doth lay it open, to urge on revenge.

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,

Or have you read, or heard? or could you think? Or do you almost think, although you see,

That you do see? could thought, without this object,
Form such another? This is the very top,

The height, the crest, or crest unto the crest,
Of murder's arms: this is the bloodiest shame,

The wildest savag'ry, the vilest stroke,

That ever wall-ey'd wrath, or staring rage,

Presented to the tears of soft remorse.

Pemb. All murders past do stand excus'd in this :

And this, so sole, and so unmatchable,

Shall give a holiness, a purity,

To the yet-unbegotten sin of times;

And prove a deadly bloodshed but a jest,
Exampled by this heinous spectacle.

Bast. It is a damned and a bloody work;
The graceless action of a heavy hand,
If that it be the work of any hand.

Sal. If that it be the work of any hand?
We had a kind of light, what would ensue :
It is the shameful work of Hubert's hand;
The practice, and the purpose, of the king:-
From whose obedience I forbid my soul,
Kneeling before this ruin of sweet life,
And breathing to his breathless excellence
The incense of a vow, a holy vow ;
Never to taste the pleasures of the world,
Never to be infected with delight,

Nor conversant with ease and idleness,

:

Till I have set a glory to this hand,

By giving it the worship of revenge.

Pemb. Big. Our souls religiously confirm thy words.

Enter HUBERT.

Hub. Lords, I am hot with haste in seeking you: Arthur doth live; the king hath sent for you.

Sal. O, he is bold, and blushes not at death :Avaunt, thou hateful villain, get thee gone!

Hub. I am no villain.

Sal.

Must I rob the law?

[Drawing his sword.

Bast. Your sword is bright, sir; put it up again. Sal. Not till I sheath it in a murderer's skin. Hub. Stand back, lord Salisbury, stand back, I say; By heaven, I think, my sword's as sharp as yours: I would not have you, lord, forget yourself, Nor tempt the danger of my true defence; Lest I, by marking of your rage, forget Your worth, your greatness, and nobility.

Big. Out, dunghill! dar'st thou brave a nobleman? Hub. Not for my life: but yet I dare defend

My innocent life against an emperor.

Sal. Thou art a murderer.

Hub.

Do not prove me so ;

Yet, I am none: Whose tongue soe'er speaks false,

Not truly speaks; who speaks not truly, lies.

Pemb. Cut him to pieces.

Bast.

Keep the peace, I say.

Sal. Stand by, or I shall gall you, Faulconbridge.

Bast. Thou wert better gall the devil, Salisbury: If thou but frown on me, or stir thy foot,

Or teach thy hasty spleen to do me shame,
I'll strike thee dead. Put up thy sword betime;
Or I'll so maul you and your toasting-iron,
That you shall think the devil is come from hell.
Big. What wilt thou do, renowned Faulconbridge?
Second a villain, and a murderer ?

Hub. Lord Bigot, I am none.
Big.

Who kill'd this prince?

Hub. 'Tis not an hour since I left him well: I honour'd him, I lov'd him; and will weep My date of life out, for his sweet life's loss.

Sal. Trust not those cunning waters of his eyes, For villainy is not without such rheum; And he, long traded in it, makes it seem Like rivers of remorse and innocency. Away, with me, all you whose souls abhor The uncleanly favours of a slaughter-house; For I am stifled with the smell of sin.

Big. Away, toward Bury, to the Dauphin there! Pemb. There, tell the king, he may enquire us out. [Exeunt Lords.

Bust. Here's a good world!-Knew you of this fair

work?

Beyond the infinite and boundless reach

Of mercy, if thou didst this deed of death,

Art thou damn'd, Hubert.

Hub.

Do but hear me, sir.

Bast. Ha! I'll tell thee what;