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That we shall see and know our friends in heav'n ;
If that be, I fhall fee my boy again.

For fince the birth of Cain, the first male-child,
To him that did but yesterday fufpire,

There was not fuch a gracious creature born.
But now will canker forrow eat my bud
And chafe the native beauty from his cheek;
And he will look as hollow as a ghoft;
As dim and meagre as an ague's fit;
And fo he'll die: and, rifing fo again,
When I fhall meet him in the court of heav'n
I fhall not know him; therefore never, never,
Muft I behold my pretty Arthur more.

Pand. You hold too heinous a respect of grief.
Conft. He talks to me that never had a son.
K. Philip. You are as fond of grief, as of your



Conft. Grief fills the room up of my absent child; Lies in his bed, walks up and down with me; Puts on his pretty looks, repeats his words, Remembers me of all his gracious parts; Stuffs out his vacant garments with his form; Then have I reason to be fond of grief. Fare you well; had you fuch a lofs as I, I could give better comfort than you do. I will not keep this form upon my head, [Tearing off her head-cloaths. When there is such disorder in my wit: O Lord, my boy, my Arthur, my fair fon! My life, my joy, my food, my all the world! My widow-comfort, and my forrow's cure!


K. Philip. I fear fome outrage, and I'll follow her.


bad you fuch a lofs as I

ever cannot help himself cafts his I could give better comfort -eyes on others for affiftance, and This is a fentiment which great often mistakes their inability for forrow always dictates. Who- coldness.


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Lewis. There's nothing in this world can make me


Life is as tedious as a twice-told tale,
Vexing the dull ear of a drowsy man.
A bitter shame hath spoilt the fweet world's tafte,
That it yields nought but fhame and bitterness.
Pand. Before the curing of a strong disease,
Ev'n in the inftant of repair and health,
The fit is ftrongeft: evils that take leave,
On their departure, moft of all fhew evil.
What have you loft by lofing of this day?

Lewis. All days of glory, joy, and happiness. Pand. If you had won it, certainly, you had. No, no; when fortune means to men moft good,

She looks upon them with a threat'ning eye.

'Tis ftrange to think how much King John hath loft

In this, which he accounts fo clearly won.

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Are not you griev'd, that Arthur is his prifoner ?

Lewis. As heartily, as he is glad he hath him.

Pand. Your mind is all as youthful as your blood.

Now hear me speak with a prophetick fpirit;

For ev❜n the breath of what I mean to speak
Shall blow each dust, each straw, each little rub,
Out of the path which fhall directly lead,
Thy foot to England's throne: and therefore mark.
John hath feiz'd Arthur, and it cannot be
That whilft warm life plays in that infant's veins,
The misplac'd John fhould entertain an hour,
A minute, nay, one quiet breath, of reft.
A fcepter, fnatch'd with an unruly hand,

There's nothing in this, &c.] The young Prince feels his defeat with more fenfibility than his father. Shame operates moft

ftrongly in the earlier years; and when can difgrace be less welcome than when a man is going to his bride?


Must be as boist'rously maintain'd, as gain'd.
And he, that stands upon a flipp'ry place,
Makes nice of no vile hold to stay him up.
That John may stand, then Arthur needs muft fail;
So be it, for it cannot be but fo.

Lewis. But what fhall I gain by young Arthur's fall? Pand. You, in the right of lady Blanch your wife, May then make all the claim that Arthur did.

Lewis. And lose it, life and all, as Arthur did. Pand. How green you are, and fresh in this old world!

John lays you plots; the times confpire with you;
For he, that steeps his safety in2 true blood,
Shall find but bloody fafety and untrue.
This act, fo evilly born, fhall cool the hearts
Of all his people, and freeze up their zeal ;
That no fo small advantage fhall ftep forth
To check his reign, but they will cherish it.
No nat❜ral exhalation in the fky,
'No 'scape of nature, no diftemper'd day,
No common wind, no cuftomed event,
But they will pluck away it's nat❜ral cause,
And call them meteors, prodigies, and figns,
Abortives, and prefages, tongues of heav'n,
Plainly denouncing vengeance upon John.

Lewis. May be, he will not touch young Arthur's life;

But hold himself safe in his imprisonment. Pand. O Sir, when he fhall hear of your approach, If that young Arthur be not gone already, Ev'n at this news he dies: and then the hearts Of all his people fhall revolt from him,

2 True blood.] The blood of him that has the juft claim.

3 No'fcape of nature,-] The author very finely calls a monfrous birth, an escape of nature. As if it were produced while fhe

was bufy elsewhere, or intent on
fome other thing. But the Ox-
ford Editor will have it, that
Shakespeare wrote,
No fhape of nature.



And kifs the lips of unacquainted changes
And pick ftrong matter of revolt and wrath,
Out of the bloody fingers' ends of John.
Methinks, I fee this hurly all on foot;
And Q, what better matter breeds for you
Than I have nam'd! The baftard Faulconbridge
Is now in England, ranfacking the church,
Offending charity. If but twelve French
Were there in arms, they would be as a call
To train ten thousand English to their fide;
4 Or, as a little snow, tumbled about,
Anon becomes a mountain. Noble Dauphin ;
Go with me to the King: 'tis wonderful
What may be wrought out of their discontent.
Now that their fouls are top-full of offence,
For England go; I will whet on the King.

Lewis. Strong reafon makes strong actions: let us go;
If you fay ay, the King will not fay no. [Exeunt.



Changes to ENGLAND.


Enter Hubert and Executioners.


EAT me these irons hot, and, look, thou stand


Within the arras; when I ftrike my foot
Upon the bosom of the ground, rush forth


4 Or, as a little Snow.] Bacon, in his hiftory of Henry VII. fpeaking of Perkin's march, ob

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ferves, that their fnow-ball did not gather as it rolled.


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And bind the boy, which you fhall find with me, Faft to the chair. Be heedful; hence, and watch.

Exec. I hope, your warrant will bear out the deed. Hub. Uncleanly fcruples! fear not you ; look to't.Young lad, come forth; I have to fay with you.

Enter Arthur.

Arth. Good morrow, Hubert.

Hub. Good morrow, little prince.
Arth. As little prince (having fo great å title
To be more Prince) as may be.-You are fad.
Hub. Indeed, I have been merrier.

Arth. Mercy on me!

Methinks, no body should be fad but I;
Yet I remember when I was in France,
Young gentlemen would be as fad as night,
Only for wantonnefs. By my christendom,
So were I out of prifon, and kept sheep,
I fhould be merry as the day is long:
And fo I would be here, but that, I doubt,
My uncle practises more harm to me.
He is afraid of me, and I of him.
Is it my fault, that I was Geffrey's fon?
Indeed, it is not; and I would to heav'n,
I were your fon, fo you would love me, Hubert.
Hub. If I talk to him, with his innocent prate
He will awake my mercy, which lies dead;
Therefore I will be fudden, and dispatch.


Arth. Are you fick, Hubert? you look pale to day;
In footh, I would, you were a little fick ;
That I might fit all night and watch with you..
Alas, I love you more than you do me.

Hub. His words do take poffeffion of my bofom.

Read here, young Arthur
How now, foolish rheum,

[Shewing a paper. [Afide.

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