Nay; in the body of this fleshly land,1
This kingdom, this confine of blood and breath,
Hostility and civil tumult reigns
Between my conscience and my cousin's death.
HUB. Arm you against your other enemies :
I'll make a peace between your soul and you.
Young Arthur is alive: this hand of mine
Is yet a maiden and an innocent hand,
Not painted with the crimson spots of blood.
Within this bosom never enter'd yet
The dreadful motion of a murderous thought;
have slander'd nature in my form,
Which, howsoever rude exteriorly,
Is yet the cover of a fairer mind
Than to be butcher of an innocent child.
K. JOHN. Doth Arthur live? O, haste thee to the
Throw this report on their incensed rage,
And make them tame to their obedience!
Forgive the comment that my passion made
Upon thy feature; for my rage was blind,
And foul-imaginary eyes of blood
Presented thee more hideous than thou art.
O, answer not, but to my closet bring
The angry Lords with all expedient haste!
I conjure thee but slowly; run more fast.
SCENE III. 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 ship-boy'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.
O me! my uncle's spirit is in these stones:
Heaven take my soul, and England keep my bones! 10
Enter PEMBROKE, SALISBURY, and BIGOT.
SAL. Lords, I will meet him at Saint Edmundsbury:
It is our safety, and we must embrace
This gentle offer of the perilous time.
PEM. Who brought that letter from the Cardinal?
SAL. The Count Melun, a noble Lord of France;
Whose private' with me of the Dolphin'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 ere we meet.
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 sin-bestained cloak
With our pure honours, nor attend the foot
That leaves the print of blood where'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.
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
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
1 intimate and peculiar property.
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 savagery, the vildest stroke,
That ever wall-ey'd1 Wrath or staring Rage
Presented to the tears of soft Remorse.
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 sins of Time;
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 head
By giving it the worship of revenge.
Our souls religiously confirm thy words.
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?
BAST. Your sword is bright, Sir; put it up again.
SAL. Not till I sheathe 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 your's!
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 self against an Emperor.
SAL. Thou art a murderer.
Yet I am none: whose tongue soe'er speaks false
Not truly speaks; who speaks not truly lies.
PEM. Cut him to pieces.
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.
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 traded2 in it, makes it seem
Like rivers of remorse and innocency.
Away with me, all you whose souls abhor
The uncleanly savours of a slaughter-house;
For I am stifled with this smell of sin.
BIG. Away toward Bury, to the Dolphin there!
PEM. There, tell the King, he may inquire us out.
BAST. 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.
BAST. Ha! I'll tell thee what;
Thou 'rt damn'd as black-nay, nothing is so black;
Thou art more deep damn'd than Prince Lucifer:
There is not yet so ugly a fiend of Hell
As thou shalt be, if thou didst kill this child.
HUB. Upon my soul-
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!
I left him well.
Go, bear him in thine arms.
I am amaz'd, methinks; and lose my way
Among the thorns and dangers of this world.
How easy dost thou take all England up!
From forth this morsel of dead Royalty
The life, the right, and truth of all this realm
Is fled to Heaven; and England now is left
To tug and scamble, and to part by the teeth
The unowed1 interest of proud-swelling State.
Now for the bare-pick'd bone of majesty
Doth dogged War bristle his angry crest,
And snarleth in the gentle eyes of Peace:
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