SCENE II.

The same. Plains near Angiers.

Alarums, Excursions. Enter the Bastard, with AUSTRIA's head.

Bast. Now, by my life, this day grows wondrous hot;

Some airy devil hovers in the sky,

And pours down mischief. Austria's head lie there;

While Philip breathes.

Enter King JOHN, ARTHUR, and HUBERT.

K. John. Hubert, keep this boy: - Philip, make up:

My mother is assailed in our tent,
And ta'en, I fear.

Bast. My Lord, I rescu'd her;
Her highness is in safety, fear you not:
But on, my Liege; for very little pains
Will bring this labour to an happy end.
[Exeunt.

SCENE III.

The same.

Alarums; Excursions; Retreat. Enter King JOHN, ELINOR, ARTHUR, the Bastard, HUBERT, and Lords.

K. John. So shall it be: your Grace shall stay behind,

[To ELINOR.

So

by

So strongly guarded, Cousin, look not sad:
Thy grandam loves thee; and thy uncle will
[To ARTHUR.
As dear be to thee as thy father was.

Arth. O, this will make my mother die with

grief.

K. John. Consin, [To the Bastard.] away for England: haste before: And, ere our coming, see thou shake the bags Of hoarding abbots; imprisoned angels Set thou at liberty: the fat ribs of peace Must by the hungry now be fed upon : Use our commission in his utmost force. Bast. Bell, book, and candle shall not drive me back,

When gold and silver becks me to come on.
I leave your Highness: Graudam, I will pray
(If ever I remember to be holy,)

For your fair safety; so I kiss your hand.
Eli. Farewell, my gentle cousin.

K. John. Coz, farewell.

[Exit Bastard.

Eli. Come hither, little kinsman; hark, a

word.

[Se takes ARTHUR aside. K. John. Come hither, Hubert. O my gentle Hubert,

We owe thee much, within this wall of flesh
There is a soul, counts thee her creditor,
And with advantage means to pay thy love:
And, my good friend, thy voluntary oath
Lives in this bosom, dearly cherished.
Give me thy hand. I hat a thing to say,
But I will fit it with some better time.
By heaven, Hubert, I am almost asham'd
To say what good respect I have of thee.
VOL. VIII.

Hub. I am much bounden to your Majesty. K. John. Good friend, thou hast no cause to say so yet:

But thou shalt have; and creep time ne'er so

slow,

Yet it shall come, for me to do thee good. I had a thing to say But let it go:

The sun is in the heaven; and the proud day,
Attended with the pleasures of the world,
Is all too wanton, and too full of gawds,
To give me audience: If the midnight bell
Did, with his iron tongue and brazen mouth,
Sound one unto the drowsy race of night;
If this same were a churchyard where we stand,
And thou possessed with a thousand wrongs;
Or if that surly spirit, melancholy,
Had bak'd thy blood, and made it heavy, thick;
(Which, else, runs tickling up and down the
veins,

Making that idiot, laughter, keep men's eyes,
And strain their cheeks to idle merriment,
A passion hateful to my purposes ;)

Or if that thou could'st see me without eyės,
Hear me without thine ears, and make reply
Without a tongue, using conceit alone,
Without eyes, ears, and harmful sound of words;
Then, in despite of brooded watchful day,
I would into thy bosom pour my thoughts:
But ah, I will not:- -Yet I love thee well;
And, by my troth, I think, thou lov'st me well.
Hub. So well, that what you bid me under-

take,

Though that ny death were adjunct to my act, By heaven, I'd do't.

K. John. Do not I know, thou would'st? Good Hubert, Hubert, Hubert, throw thine eye

On yon young boy: I'll tell thee what, my friend,

He is a very serpent in my way;

And, wheresoe'er this foot of

tread,

mine doth

He lies before me: Dost thou uuderstand me?

Thou art his keeper.

Hub. And I'll keep him so,

That he shall not offend your Majesty.

K. John. Death

Hub. My Lord?

K. John. A grave.

Hub. He shall not live.

K. John. Enough.

I could be merry now: Hubert, I love thee;
Well, I'll not say what I intend for thee:
Remember. Madam, fare you well:

I'll send those powers o'er to your Majesty.
Eli. My blessing go with thee!

K. John. For England, cousin:
Hubert shall be your man, attend on you
With all true duty. On toward Calais ho!
(Exeunt.

SCENE IV.

The same. The French King's Tent.

Enter King PHILIP, LEWIS, PANDULPH, and Attendants.

K. Phi. So, by a roaring tempest on the flood A whole armado of convicted sail

Is scatter'd, and disjoin'd from fellowship.

Pand. Courage and comfort! all shall yet go well,

K. Phi. What can go well, when we have run so ill?

Are we not beaten? Is not Angiers lost?
Arthur ta'en prisoner? divers dear friends slain?
And bloody England into England gone,
O'erbearing interruption, spite of France?
Lew. What he hath won, that hath he for-
tified:

So hot a speed with such advice dispos'd,
Such temperate order in so fierce a cause,
Doth want example: Who hath read, or heard,
Of any kindred action like to this?

K. Phi. Well could I bear that England had this praise,

So we could find some pattern of our shame.

Enter CONSTANCE.

Look, who comes here! a grave unto a soul: Holding the eternal spirit, against her will, In the vile prison of afflicted breath:

I pr'ythee, Lady, go away with me.

Const. Lo, now! now see the issue of your peace!

K. Phi. Patience, good Lady! comfort, gentle Gonstance!

Const. No, I defy all counsel, all redress, But that which ends all counsel, true redress, Death, death:-O amiable lovely death! Thou odoriferous stench! sound rottenness! Arise forth from the couch of lasting night, Thou hate and terror to prosperity, And I will kiss thy détestable bones;

And

put my eyeballs in thy vaulty brows;