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Lew. I muse*, your majesty doth seem so cold, When such profound respects do pull you on.
Pand. I will denounce a curse upon his head.
time, Is it as he will? well then, France shall rue. Blanch. The suu's o'ercast with blood: Fair day,
Lew. Lady, with ine; with me thy fortune lies.
life dies. K. John. Cousin, go draw our puissance t toge ther.
[Exit Bastard, France, I am burn'd up with inflaming wrath; A rage, whose heat hath this condition, That nothing can allay, nothing but blood, The blood, and dearest-valu'd blood, of France. K. Phi. Thy rage shall burn thee up, and thou
shalt turn To ashes, ere our blood shall quench that fire: Look to thyself, thou art in jeopardy. K. John. No more than lie that threats. To arms let's hie!
The same. Plains near Augiers.
Alarums, Ercursions. Enter the Bastard, with
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 therë; While Philip breathes.
Enter King John, Arthur, and Hubert.
K. John. Hubert, keep this boy:-Philip, make up:
My lord, I rescu'd her;
[Ereunt. SCENE III.
Alarums; Excursions ; Retreat. Enter King
John, Elinor, Arthur, the Bastard, Hubert, and Lords.
K. John. So shall it be; your grace shall stay be. hind,
[To Elinor. So strongly guarded.-Cousin, look not sad :
[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 grief. K. John. Cousin (To the Bastard.], away for
England; haste before: And, ere our coming, see thou shake the bags Of hoarding abbots : angels* imprisoned Set thou at liberty: the fat ribs of peace Must by the hungry now be fed upon: Use our commission in his utmost force. Bast. Bell, book, and candle, shall not drive nie
Eli. Farewell, my gentle cousin.
[Exit Bastard, Eli, Come hither, little kinsman; hark, a word.
[She takes Arthur aside.
* Gold coia.
K. John. Come hicher, Hubert. O my gentle
Hub. I am much bounden to your majesty.
But ah, I will not :-Yet I love thee well;
Hub. So well, that what you bid me undertake,
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 nie: Dost thou understand me? Thou art his keeper. Hub.
And I will keep him so,
K. John. Death.
My lord ?
A grave. Hub.
He shall not live. K. John.
Enough. I could be merry now: Hubert, I love thee
For England, cousin :