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; 190
And he that speaks doth grip the hearer’s wrist,
Whilst he that hears makes fearful action,
With wrinkled brows, with nods, with rolling eyes.
I saw a smith stand with his hammer, thus,
The whilst his iron did on the anvil cool,
With open mouth swallowing a tailor’s news,
Who, with his shears and measure in his hand,
Standing on slippers which his nimble haste
Had falsely thrust upon contrary feet,
Told of a many thousand warlike French 200
That were embattailèd and ranked in Kent.
Another lean unwashed artificer
Cuts off his tale, and talks of Arthur’s death.
KING JOHN
Why seek’st thou to possess me with these fears?
Why urgest thou so oft young Arthur’s death?
Thy hand hath murdered him. I had a mighty cause
To wish him dead, but thou hadst none to kill him.
HUBERT
No had, my lord? Why, did you not provoke me?
KING JOHN
It is the curse of kings to be attended
By slaves that take their humours for a warrant
To break within the bloody house of life,
And on the winking of authority
To understand a law, to know the meaning
Of dangerous majesty, when perchance it frowns
More upon humour than advised respect.
HUBERT
Here is your hand and seal for what I did.
He shows a paper
KING JOHN
O, when the last account ’twixt heaven and earth
Is to be made, then shall this hand and seal
Witness against us to damnation!
How oft the sight of means to do ill deeds 220
Make deeds ill done! Hadst not thou been by,
A fellow by the hand of nature marked,
Quoted, and signed to do a deed of shame,
This murder had not come into my mind.
But taking note of thy abhorred aspect,
Finding thee fit for bloody villainy,
Apt, liable to be employed in danger,
I faintly broke with thee of Arthur’s death;
And thou, to be endeared to a king,
Made it no conscience to destroy a prince.
HUBERT My lord—
KING JOHN
Hadst thou but shook thy head or made a pause
When I spake darkly what I purposed,
Or turned an eye of doubt upon my face,
As bid me tell my tale in express words,
Deep shame had struck me dumb, made me break off,
And those thy fears might have wrought fears in me.
But thou didst understand me by my signs,
And didst in signs again parley with sin;
Yea, without stop, didst let thy heart consent,
And consequently thy rude hand to act
The deed which both our tongues held vile to name.
Out of my sight, and never see me more!
My nobles leave me, and my state is braved,
Even at my gates, with ranks of foreign powers;
Nay, in the body of this fleshly land,
This kingdom, this confine of blood and breath,
Hostility and civil tumult reigns
Between my conscience and my cousin’s death.
HUBERT
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 entered yet
The dreadful motion of a murderous thought;
And you have slandered nature in my form,
Which, howsoever rude exteriorly,
Is yet the cover of a fairer mind
Than to be butcher of an innocent child. 260
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, 265
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 ⌈severally⌉
4.3 Enter Arthur Duke of Brittaine on the walls, disguised as a ship-boy
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.
He leaps down
O me! My uncle’s spirit is in these stones.
Heaven take my soul, and England keep my bones! I0
He dies Enter the Earls of Pembroke and Salisbury, and Lord 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,
Who’s private with me of the Dauphin’s love;
’Tis much more general than these lines import.
BIGOT
Tomorrow morning let us meet him then.
SALISBURY
Or rather, then set forward, for ’twill be
Two long days’journey, lords, or ere we meet. 20
Enter the Bastard
BASTARD
Once more today well met, distempered lords.
The King by me requests your presence straight.
SALISBURY
The King hath dispossessed himself of us.
We will not line his thin bestainèd cloak
With our pure honours, nor attend the foot 25
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.
He sees Arthur’s body
What is he lies here?
PEMBROKE
O death, made proud with pure and princely beauty!
The earth had not a hole to hide this deed. 36
SALISBURY
Murder, as hating what himself hath done,
Doth lay it open to urge on revenge.
BIGOT
Or when he doomed this beauty to a grave,
Found it too precious-princely fora grave. 40
SALISBURY (to the Bastard)
Sir Richard, what think you? You have beheld.
Or have you read or heard; or could you think,
Or do you almost think, although you see,
That you do see? Could thoug
ht, 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, 55
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? 60
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, 65
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, 70
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 bold, and blushes not at death!—
Avaunt, thou hateful villain, get thee gone I
HUBERT
I am no villain.
SALISBURY Must I rob the law?
He draws his sword
BASTARD
Your sword is bright, sir; put it up again.
SALISBURY
Not till I sheathe it in a murderer’s skin.
HUBERT (drawing his sword)
Stand back, Lord Salisbury, stand back, I say!
By heaven, I think my sword’s as sharp as yours.
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.
BIGOT
Out, dunghill! Dar’st thou brave a nobleman?
HUBERT
Not for my life; but yet I dare defend
My innocent life against an emperor.
SALISBURY
Thou art a murderer.
HUBERT Do not prove me so;
Yet I am none. Whose tongue soe’er speaks false,
Not truly speaks; who speaks not truly, lies.
PEMBROKE
Cut him to pieces!
BASTARD (drawing his sword) Keep the peace, I say I
SALISBURY
Stand by, or I shall gall you, Falconbridge.
BASTARD
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. 100
BIGOT
What wilt thou do, renowned Falconbridge,
Second a villain and a murderer?
HUBERT
Lord Bigot, I am none.
BIGOT Who killed this prince?
HUBERT
’Tis not an hour since I left him well.
I honoured him, I loved him, and will weep
My date of life out for his sweet life’s loss.
SALISBURY
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. II0
Away with me, all you whose souls abhor
Th’uncleanly savours of a slaughter-house,
For I am stifled with this smell of sin.
BIGOT
Away toward Bury, to the Dauphin there.
PEMBROKE
There, tell the King, he may enquire us out. 115
Exeunt Pembroke, Salisbury, and Bigot
BASTARD
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 damned, Hubert.
HUBERT Do but hear me, sir.
BASTARD Ha! I’ll tell thee what:
Thou’rt damned as black—nay nothing is so black—
Thou art more deep damned than Prince Lucifer;
There is not yet so ugly a fiend of hell
As thou shalt be if thou didst kill this child.
HUBERT
Upon my soul—
BASTARD 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 wouldst 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.
HUBERT
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.
BASTARD Go bear him in thine arms.
I am amazed, methinks, and lose my way
Among the thorns and dangers of this world.
Hubert takes up Arthur in his arms
How easy dost thou take all England up I
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 scramble, and to part by th’ teeth
The unowed interest of proud swelling state.
Now for the bare-picked bone of majesty
Doth dogged war bristle his angry crest,
And snarleth in the gentle eyes of peace;
Now powers from home and discontents at home
Meet in one line, and vast confusion waits,
As doth a raven on a sick-fall’n beast,
The imminent decay of wrested pomp. 155
Now happy he whose cloak and cincture can
Hold out this tempest. Bear away that child,
And follow me with speed. I’ll to the King.
A thousand businesses are brief in hand,
And heaven itself doth frown upon the land.
Exeunt ⌈severally⌉
5.1 ⌈Flourish.⌉Enter King John and Cardinal Pandolf, with attendants
KING JOHN ⌈giving Pandolf the crown⌉
Thus have I yielded up into your hand
The circle of my glory.
PANDOLF(giving back the crown)Take again
From this my hand, as holding of the Pope,
Your sovereign greatness and authority.
KING JOHN
Now keep your holy word: go meet the French,
And from his Holiness use all your power
To stop their marches ‘fore we are enflamed.
Our discontented counties do revolt,
Our people quarrel with obedience,
>
Swearing allegiance and the love of soul
To stranger blood, to foreign royalty.
This inundation of mistempered humour
Rests by you only to be qualified.
Then pause not, for the present time’s so sick
That present med’cine must be ministered,
Or overthrow incurable ensues.
PANDOLF
It was my breath that blew this tempest up,
Upon your stubborn usage of the Pope,
But since you are a gentle convertite,
My tongue shall hush again this storm of war
And make fair weather in your blust’ring land.
On this Ascension Day, remember well,
Upon your oath of service to the Pope,
Go I to make the French lay down their arms.
⌈Exeunt all but King John⌉
KING JOHN
Is this Ascension Day Did not the prophet
Say that before Ascension Day at noon
My crown I should give off? Even so I have.
I did suppose it should be on constraint,
But, heaven be thanked, it is but voluntary.
Enter Bastard
BASTARD
All Kent hath yielded; nothing there holds out
But Dover Castle. London hath received,
Like a kind host, the Dauphin and his powers.
Your nobles will not hear you, but are gone
To offer service to your enemy;
And wild amazement hurries up and down
The little number of your doubtful friends.
KING JOHN
Would not my lords return to me again
After they heard young Arthur was alive?
BASTARD
They found him dead and cast into the streets,
An empty casket, where the jewel of life
By some damned hand was robbed and ta’en away.
KING JOHN
That villain Hubert told me he did live.
BASTARD
Soon my soul he did, for aught he knew.
But wherefore do you droop? Why look you sad?
Be great in act as you have been in thought.
Let not the world see fear and sad distrust
Govern the motion of a kingly eye.
Be stirring as the time, be fire with fire;
Threaten the threat’ner, and outface the brow
Of bragging horror. So shall inferior eyes,
That borrow their behaviours from the great,
Grow great by your example, and put on
The dauntless spirit of resolution.
Away, and glisten like the god of war
When he intendeth to become the field.
The Oxford Shakespeare: The Complete Works Page 150
