Pemb. When workmen ftrive to do better than well,
They do confound their skill in covetousness *;
And oftentimes excufing of a fault

Doth make the fault the worfe by the excufe:
As patches fet upon a little breach,

Difcredit more in hiding of the flaw,

Than did the flaw before it was fo patch'd.

Sal. To this effect, before you were new-crown'd, We breath'd our counfel; but it pleas'd your Highness To overbear it; and we're all well pleas'd;

Since all and every part of what we would,
Muft make a ftand at what your Highness will.
K. John. Some reafons of this double coronation
I have poffefs'd you with, and think them ftrong;
And more, more ftrong (the leffer is my fear)
I fhall endue you with: mean time, but ask
What you would have reform'd, that is not well,
And well fhall you perceive how willingly

I will both hear and grant you your requests.
Pemb. Then I, as one that am the tongue of these,
To found the purposes of all their hearts,
(Both for myself and them; but chief of all,
Your fafety; for the which, myself and they
Bend their beft ftudies), heartily request
Th'infranchifement of Arthur; whofe reftraint
Doth move the murm'ring lips of difcontent
To break into this dang'rous argument.
If what in reft you have, in right you hold,
Why fhou'd your fears (which, as they fay, attend
The fteps of wrong) then move you to mew up
Your tender kinfman, and to choke his days
With barb'rous ignorance, and deny his youth
The rich advantage of good exercife?
That the time's enemies may not have this
To grace occafions, let it be our fuit,
That you have bid us afk his liberty;
Which for our good we do no further ask,
Than whereupon our weal, on you depending,
Counts it your weal, that he have liberty.

i. e. coveting to reach a higher excellence.

i. e. found forth, or déclare.

Enter Hubert.

K. John. Let it be fo; I do commit his youth To your direction. Hubert, what news with you? [The King goes afide with Hubert.

Pemb. This is the man fhould do the bloody deed:
He fhew'd his warrant to a friend of mine.
The image of a wicked heinous fault

Lives in his eye; that close aspect of his
Does fhew the mood of a much-troubled breaft.
And I do fearfully believe 'tis done,

What we fo fear'd he had a charge to do.

Sal. The colour of the King doth come and go,
Between his purpose and his confcience,

Like heralds 'twixt two dreadful battles fent:
His paffion is fo ripe it needs must break.

Pemb. And when it breaks, I fear, will iffue thence The foul corruption of a fweet child's death,

K. John. We cannot hold Mortality's ftrong hand. Good Lords, although my will to give is living, The fuit which you demand is gone, and dead. He tells us, Arthur is deceas'd to-night.

Sal. Indeed we fear'd his fickness was paft cure. Pemb. Indeed we heard how near his death he was, Before the child himself felt he was fick.

This must be anfwer'd either here or hence.

K. John. Why do you bend fuch folemn brows on me? Think you I bear the fhears of destiny?

Have I commandment on the pulse of life?

Sal. It is apparent foul play, and 'tis shame That greatnefs fhould fo grofsly offer it:

So thrive it in your game, and fo farewel!

Pemb. Stay yet, Lord Salisbury, I'll go with thee,
And find th' inheritance of this poor child,
His little kingdom of a forced grave.

That blood which own'd the breadth of all this ifle,
Three foot of it doth hold; bad world the while!
This must not be thus borne; this will break out
To all our forrows, and ere long, I doubt. [Exeunt.
SCENE III. Enter a Messenger.

K. John. They burn in indignation; I repent.

There is no fure foundation fet on blood;
No certain life atchiev'd by others' death
A fearful eye thou haft; where is that blood,

【Afide.

[To the Meflenger.

That I have feen inhabit in thofe cheeks?

So foul a fky clears not without a ftorm;

Pour down thy weather. How goes all in France? Mess. From France to England never such a power, For any foreign preparation,

Was levy'd 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,
The tidings come that they are all arriv'd,

K. John. O, where hath our intelligence been drunk?
Where hath it flept? where is my mother's care?
That fuch an army fhould be drawn in France,
And the not hear of it?

Mel. My Liege, her ear

Is ftopt with duft: the first of April dy'd
Your noble mother; and, as I hear, my Lord,
The Lady Conftance in a frenzy dy'd

Three days before: but this from rumour's tongue
I idlely heard; if true or falfe, I know not.

K. John. With-hold thy fpeed, dreadful occafion!
O make a league with me, till I have pleas'd
My difcontented peers. What! mother dead?
How wildly then walks my eftate in France?
Under whofe conduct came thofe powers of France,
That thou for truth giv'ft out are landed here?
Me. Under the Dauphin.

Enter Faulconbridge, and Peter of Pomfret. K. John. Thou haft made me giddy

With thefe ill tidings. Now, what fays the world To your proceedings? Do not feek to ftuff

My head with more ill news, for it is full.

Faulc. But if you be afraid to hear the worst, Then let the worft unheard fall on your head.

K. John. Bear with me, coufin; for I was amaz'd Under the tide; but now I breathe again Aloft the flood, and can give audience To any tongue, fpeak it of what it will.

Faule. How I have fped among the clergymen,
The fums I have collected fhall exprefs.
But as I travell'd hither through the land,
I find the people ftrangely fantafied;

Poffefs'd with rumours, full of idle dreams;
Not knowing what they fear, but full of fear.
And here's a prophet that I brought with me
From forth the ftreets of Pomfret, whom I found
With many hundreds treading on his heels:
To whom he fung in rude harsh-founding rhimes,
That ere the next Afcenfion day at noon,
Your Highness fhould deliver up your crown.

K. John. Thou idle dreamer, wherefore did'ft thou fo? Peter. Foreknowing that the truth will fall out fo. K. John. Hubert, away with him, imprison him, And on that day at noon whereon he says.

I fhall yield up my crown, let him be hang'd.
Deliver him to fafety, and return,

For I muft ufe thee.

-O my gentle coufin,

[Exit Hubert, with Peter.

Hear'ft thou the news abroad, who are arriv'd?

Faulc. The French, my Lord; mens' mouths are full

Befides, I met Lord Bigot and Lord Salisbury,

With eyes as red as new-enkindled fire,
And others more, going to feek the grave
Of Arthur, who, they fay, is kill'd to-night
On your fuggeftion.

K. John. Gentle kinfman, go

And thrust thyfelf into their company.
I have a way to win their loves again
Bring them before me.

Faulc. I will feek them out.

:

[of it.

K. John. Nay, but make hafte: the better foot before. O, let me have no fubject enemies,

When adverfe foreigners affright my towns
With dreadful pomp of ftout invafion.

Be Mercury, fet feathers to thy heels;
And fly, like thought, from them to me again.
Faule. The fpirit of the time fhall teach me speed.

[Exit. K. John. Spoke like a fprightful noble gentleman. Go after him; for he perhaps thall need

Some meffenger betwixt me and the Peers;
And be thou he.

Me. With all my heart, my Liege.

K. John. My mother dead!

SCENE IV.

[Exit.

Enter Hubert.

Hub. My Lord, they fay five moons were seen toFour fixed, and the fifth did whirl about

The other four in wond'rous motion.

K. John. Five moons?

Hub. Old men and beldams, in the streets, Do prophefy upon it dangerously.

[night:

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 wrift,
• Whilft he that hears makes fearful action

• With wrinkled brows, with nods, with rolling eyes.
I faw a fmith ftand with his hammer, thus,
The whilft his iron did on the anvil cool,
With open mouth swallowing a tailor's news;
Who with his fhears and measure in his hand,
Standing on flippers, which his nimble haste
Had falfely thruft upon contrary feet,
Told of a many thoufand warlike French
That were embattled and rank'd in Kent.
Another lean, unwash'd artificer,

Cuts off his tale, and talks of Arthur's death.'

K. John. Why feck'ft thou to poffefs me with thefe Why urgeft thou so oft young Arthur's death? [fears? Thy hand hath murder'd him: I had a cause

To wifh him dead, but thou hadft none to kill him. Hub. Had none, my Lord? why, did you not pro

voke me?

K. John. It is the curfe of Kings, to be attended "By flaves that take their humours for a warrant, "To break into the bloody house of life:

"And, on the winking of authority,

"To understand a law; to know the meaning

* This plainly hints at Davidfon's cafe, in the affair of Mary Queen of Scots; and so must have been inferted long after the frit reprefentation,