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P. Hen. Let him be brought into the orchard here.
He is more patient
Than when you left him: even now he sung.
P. Hen. O, vanity of sickness! fierce extremes
Which, in their throng and press to that last hold,
Who chants a doleful hymn to his own death,
And from the organ-pipe of frailty sings
His soul and body to their lasting rest.
Sal. Be of good comfort, prince; for you are born
To set a form upon that indigest,
Which he hath left so shapeless and so rude.
Re-enter BIGOT and Attendants, who bring in King JOHN in a Chair.
K. John. Ay, marry, now my soul hath elbow-room;
It would not out at windows, nor at doors.
How fares your majesty?
- dead, forsook, cast off,
K. John. Poison'd, ill-fare;
Nor let my kingdom's rivers take their course
And comfort me with cold. I do not ask you much:
I beg cold comfort; and you are so strait,
And so ingrateful, you deny me that.
P. Hen. O, that there were some virtue in my tears,
That might relieve you!
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 :
And all the shrouds, wherewith my life should sail,
Bast. The Dauphin is preparing hitherward,
[The King dies.
Sal. You breathe these dead news in as dead an ear. 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,
Now, now, you stars, that move in your right spheres,
And instantly return with me again,
Straight let us seek, or straight we shall be sought:
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;
With whom yourself, myself, and other lords,
To consummate this business happily.
Bast. Let it be so.
And you, my noble prince,
With other princes that may best be spar'd,
Shall wait upon your father's funeral.
P. Hen. At Worcester must his body be interr'd; For so he will'd it.
Thither shall it then.
And happily may your sweet self put on
The lineal state and glory of the land:
To whom, with all submission, on my knee,
I do bequeath my faithful services,
And true subjection everlastingly.
Sal. And the like tender of our love we make,
To rest without a spot for evermore.
P. Hen. I have a kind soul, that would give 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,
But when it first did help to wound itself.
Now these, her princes, are come home again,
And we shall shock them. Nought shall make us rue,
Lords, Heralds, Officers, Soldiers, Gardeners, Keeper, Messenger,
Groom, and other Attendants.
SCENE, dispersedly in England and Wales.
Enter King RICHARD, attended; JOHN OF GAUNT, and other
Nobles, with him.
K. Rich. Old John of Gaunt, time-honour'd Lancaster, Hast thou, according to thy oath and band,