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Bast. How did he take it? who did taste to him?
Hub. A monk, I tell you ; a resolved villain, Whose bowels suddenly burst out: the king Yet speaks, and, peradventure, may recover.
Bast. Who didst thou leave to tend his majesty?
Bast. Withhold thine indignation, mighty heaven,
The Orchard of Swinstead-Abbey.
Enter Prince HENRY, SALISBURY, and BIGOT,
P. Hen. It is too late; the life of all his blood Is touch'd corruptibly; and his pure brain (Which some suppose the soul's frail dwelling-house,) Doth, by the idle comments that it makes, Foretell the ending of mortality.
Pem. His Highness yet doth speak; and holds
P. Hen. Let him be brought into the orchard here. Doth he still rage?
[Exit Bigot. Pem.
He is more patient
P. Hen. O vanity of sickness! fierce extremes,
Sal. Be of good comfort, prince; for you are born To set a form
that indigest Which he hath left so shapeless and so rude. Re-enter Bigor and Attendants, who bring in King
John in a Chair.
P. Hen. How fares your majesty ?
tears, That might relieve you! K. John.
The salt in them is hot.Within me is a hell ; and there the poison Is, as a fiend, confin'd to tyrannize On unreprievable condemned blood.
Enter the Bastard.
Bast. O, I am scalded with my violent motion, And spleen of speed to see your majesty.
K. John. O cousin, thou art come to set mine eye: The tackle of my heart is crack’d and burn'd; And all the shrouds, wherewith my life should sail,
3 Narrow, avaricious.
Are turned to one thread, one little hair :
Bast. The Dauphin is preparing hitherward;
Sal. You breathe these dead news in as dead an
My liege! my lord !-But now a king, -now thus.
P. Hen. Even so must I run on, and even so stop. What surety of the world, what hope, what stay, When this was now a king, and now is clay!
Bast. Art thou gone so? I do but stay behind, To do the office for thee of revenge ; And then my soul shall wait on thee to heaven, As it on earth hath been thy servant still.Now, now, you stars, that move in your right spheres, Where be your powers ? Show now your mended
faiths; And instantly return with me again, To push destruction, and perpetual shame, Out of the weak door of our fainting land : Straight let us seek, or straight we shall be sought; The Dauphin rages at our very heels.
Sal. It seems, you know not then so much as we: The cardinal Pandulph is within at rest,
Who half an hour since came from the Dauphin;
Bast. He will the rather do it, when he sees
Sal. Nay, it is in a manner done already;
Bast. Let it be so:-And you, my noble prince,
P. Hen. At Worcester must his body be interr'd;
Thither shall it then.
Sal. And the like tender of our love we make,
thanks, And knows not how to do it, but with tears.
Bast. O, let us pay the time but needful woe, Since it hath been beforehand with our griefs. This England never did, (nor never shall,)