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