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KING JOHN
Doth Arthur live? O, haste thee to the peers,
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.
Exeunt
SCENE III. Before the castle
Enter ARTHUR, on the walls
ARTHUR
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 disguised 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
SALISBURY
Lords, I will meet him at Saint Edmundsbury:
It is our safety, and we must embrace
This gentle offer of the perilous time.
PEMBROKE
Who brought that letter from the cardinal?
SALISBURY
The Count Melun, a noble lord of France,
Whose private with me of the Dauphin's love
Is much more general than these lines import.
BIGOT
To-morrow morning let us meet him then.
SALISBURY
Or rather then set forward; for 'twill be
Two long days' journey, lords, or ere we meet.
Enter the BASTARD
BASTARD
Once more to-day well met, distemper'd lords!
The king by me requests your presence straight.
SALISBURY
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'er it walks.
Return and tell him so: we know the worst.
BASTARD
Whate'er you think, good words, I think, were best.
SALISBURY
Our griefs, and not our manners, reason now.
BASTARD
But there is little reason in your grief;
Therefore 'twere reason you had manners now.
PEMBROKE
Sir, sir, impatience hath his privilege.
BASTARD
'Tis true, to hurt his master, no man else.
SALISBURY
This is the prison. What is he lies here?
Seeing ARTHUR
PEMBROKE
O death, made proud with pure and princely beauty!
The earth had not a hole to hide this deed.
SALISBURY
Murder, as hating what himself hath done,
Doth lay it open to urge on revenge.
BIGOT
Or, when he doom'd this beauty to a grave,
Found it too precious-princely for a grave.
SALISBURY
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 savagery, the vilest stroke,
That ever wall-eyed wrath or staring rage
Presented to the tears of soft remorse.
PEMBROKE
All murders past do stand excused 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.
BASTARD
It is a damned and a bloody work;
The graceless action of a heavy hand,
If that it be the work of any hand.
SALISBURY
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 practise 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.
PEMBROKE and BIGOT
Our souls religiously confirm thy words.
Enter HUBERT
HUBERT
Lords, I am hot with haste in seeking you:
Arthur doth live; the king hath sent for you.
SALISBURY
O, he is old and blushes not at death.
Avaunt, thou hateful villain, get thee gone!
HUBERT
I am no villain.
SALISBURY
Must I rob the law?
Drawing his sword
BASTARD
Your sword is bright, sir; put it up again.
SALISBURY
Not till I sheathe it in a murderer's skin.
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