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Pem. Stay yet, lord Salisbury; I'll go And find th' inheritance of this poor child, His little kingdom of a forced grave.
That blood, which ow'd' the breadth of all this isle, Three foot of it doth hold; Bad world the while! This must not be thus borne: this will break out To all our sorrows, and ere long, I doubt.
[Exeunt Lords. K. John. They burn in indignation; I repent; There is no sure foundation set on blood; No certain life achiev'd by others' death.
Enter a Messenger.
A fearful eye thou hast; Where is that blood,
So foul a sky clears not without a storm:
Pour down thy weather:-How goes all in France? Mess. From France to England.-Never such a For any foreign preparation,
Was levied in the body of a land!
The copy of your speed is learn'd by them;
For, when you should be told they do prepare,
K. John. O, where hath our intelligence been drunk? Where hath it slept? Where is my mother's care? That such an army could be drawn in France, And she not hear of it?
My liege, her ear
Three days before: but this from rumour's tongue
K. John. Withhold thy speed, dreadful occasion!
ow'd for own'd.
How wildly then walks' my estate in France !— Under whose conduct came those powers of France, That thou for truth giv'st out, are landed here? Mess. Under the Dauphin.
Enter PHILIP and PETER OF POMFRET.
Thou hast made me giddy With these ill tidings.-Now, what says the world To your proceedings? do not seek to stuff My head with more ill news, for it is full.
Phil. But, if you be afeard to hear the worst, Then let the worst, unheard, fall on your head.
K. John. Bear with me, cousin; for I was amaz'd Under the tide: but now I breathe again
Aloft the flood; and can give audience
Phil. How I have sped among the clergymen,
Your highness should deliver up your crown.
K. John. Thou idle dreamer, wherefore didst thou so?
Peter. Foreknowing that the truth will fall out so. K. John. Hubert, away with him; imprison him; And on that day at noon, whereon, he says,
I shall yield up my crown, let him be hang'd:
'How ill go my affairs in France!
⚫ Give him into safe custody.
For I must use thee.-O my gentle cousin,
[Exit HUBERT, with PETER. Hear'st thou the news abroad, who are arriv'd? Phil. The French, my lord; men's mouths are full
Besides, I met lord Bigot, and lord Salisbury,
Gentle kinsman, go,
And thrust thyself into their companies:
I will seek them out.
K. John. Nay, but make haste; the better foot O, let me have no subject enemies,
When adverse foreigners affright my towns
With all my heart, my liege. [Exit.
K. John. My mother dead!
Hub. My, lord, they say, five moons were seen Four fixed; and the fifth did whirl about [to-night : The other four, in wond'rous motion.
K. John. Five moons?
Old men, and beldams, in
Do prophecy upon it dangerously:
[the streets Young Arthur's death is common in their mouths: And when they talk of him, they shake their heads,
And whisper one another in the ear;
And he, that speaks, doth gripe the hearer's wrist;
With wrinkled brows, with nods, with rolling eyes.
Cuts off his tale, and talks of Arthur's death.
K. John. Why seek'st thou to possess me with these Why urgest thou so oft young Arthur's death? [fears ? Thy hand hath murder'd him: I had mighty cause To wish him dead, but thou hadst none to kill him. Hub. Had none, my lord! why, did
K. John. It is the curse of kings, to be attended
To understand a law; to know the meaning
Hub. Here is your hand and seal for what I did. K. John. O, when the last account 'twixt heaven and earth
Is to be made, then shall this hand and seal
How oft the sight of means to do ill deeds,
Makes deeds ill done! Hadest not thou been by,
This plainly hints at Davidson's case, in the affair of Mary Queen of Scots.-WARBURTON. It is extremely probable that our author meant to pay his court to Elizabeth by this covert apology for her conduct to Mary.-MALONE.
A fellow by the hand of nature mark'd,
K. John. Hadst thou but shook thy head,
or made [a pause,
Deep shame had struck me dumb, made me break off,
The deed, which both our tongues held vile to name.—
This kingdom, this confine of blood and breath,
Between my conscience, and my cousin's death.
The dreadful motion of a murd'rous thought,
Is yet the cover of a fairer mind
Than to be butcher of an innocent child.