Enter the Bastard. Bast. Once more to-day well met, distemper'd* lords! The king, by me, requests your presence straight. 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. Pem. 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. Pem. 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 ob ject, Form such another? This is the very top, Out of humour. That ever wall-ey'd wrath, or staring rage, Pem. 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 time; And prove a deadly blood-shed but a jest, Bast. It is a damned and a bloody work; hand? Sal. If that it be the work of any By giving it the worship of revenge. Pem. 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 fob the law? [Drawing his sword. • Pity. + Hand should be head; a glory is the circle of rays which surrounds the heads of saints in pictures. Bast. Your sword is bright, sir; put it up again. By heaven, I think, my sword's as sharp as yours: 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, Do not prove me sot; Hub. Yet, I am none: Whose tongue soe'er speaks false, Not truly speaks; who speaks not truly, lies. Pem. Cut him to pieces. Bast. say. Keep the peace, I If thou but frown on me, or stir thy foot, 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. • Honest. + By compelling me to kill you. Pity. Away, with me, all you whose souls abhor Big. Away, toward Bury, to the dauphin there! Pem. There, tell the king, he may inquire us [Exeunt Lords. Bast. Here's a good world!-Knew you of this fair work? out. Beyond the infinite and boundless reach Of mercy, if thou didst this deed of death, Hub. Do but hear me, sir. Bast. Ha! I'll tell thee what; Thou art damn'd as black-nay, nothing is so black; As thou shalt be, if thou didst kill this child. Bast. If thou didst but consent To this most cruel act, do but despair, And, if thou want'st a cord, the smallest thread That ever spider twisted from her womb Will serve to strangle thee; a rush will be A beam to hang thee on; or would'st thou drown thyself, Put but a little water in a spoon, And it shall be as all the ocean, Enough to stifle such a villain up.— I do suspect thee very grievously. Hub. If I in act, consent, or sin of thought, Be guilty of the stealing that sweet breath Which was embounded in this beauteous clay, Let hell want pains enough to torture me! 1 left him well. Bast. Go, bear him in thine arms. I am amaz'd*, methinks; and lose my way * Confounded. From forth this morsel of dead royalty, [Exeunt. ACT V. SCENE I. The same. A room in the palace. Enter King John, Pandulph with the crown, and attendants. K. John. Thus have I yielded up into your hand The circle of my glory. Pand. Take again [Giving John the crown. From this my hand, as holding of the pope, Your sovereign greatness and authority. K.John. Now keep your holy word: go meet the French; And from his holiness use all your power |