For being not mad, but fenfible of grief,
My reafonable part produces reafon
How I may be delivered of these woes,
And teaches me to kill or hang myself.
If I were mad, I fhould forget my fon,
Cr madly think a babe of clouts were he:
1 am not mad; too well, too well I feel
The different plague of each calamity.

K. Phi. Eind up thofe trefles; O what love I note
In the fair multitude of thofe her hairs:
Where but by chance a filver drop bath fallen,
Even to that drop ten thousand wiery friends
Do glew themselves in fociable griet;

Like true infeparable faithful loves,
Sticking together in calamity.

Con. To England, if you will.-——————
K. Phi. Bind up your hairs.

Con. Yes, that I will; and wherefore will I do it!
I tore them from their bonds, and cried aloud,
O that thefe hands could fo redeem my fon,
As they have given thefe hairs their liberty!
Eut now I envy at their liberty,

And will again commit them to their bonds,
Because my poor child is a prifoner.

And, father Cardinal, I have heard you fay,
That we fhall fee and know our friends in Heaven;
If that be, I fhall fee my boy again.

For fince the birth of Cain, the firft 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 chase the native beauty from his check;
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 to again,

When I shall meet him in the court of Heaven,

I fhall not know him; therefore never, never,
Muft I behold my pretty Arthur more.

Pand. You hold too heinous a respect of grief.
Con. He talks to me that never had a fon.-

K. Phi. You are as fond of grief as of your child. Con. Grief fills the room up of my abient child; Lyes in his bed, walks up and down with me; Futs 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 reafon 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 fuch diforder 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! [Exit. K. Phi. I fear fome outrage, and I'll follow her.

[Exit. Lewis. There's nothing in this world can make

me joy;

Life is as tedious as a twice-told tale,

Vexing the dull ear of a drowsy man.

A bitter fhame hath fpoiled the fweet world's taste,
That it yields nought but thame and bitterness.
Pand. Before the curing of a ftrong difeafe,
Even in the inftant of repair and health,
The fit is ftrongeft: evils that take leave,
On their departure most of all thew evil.
What have you loft, by lofing of this day?
Lewis. All days of glory, joy, and happiness.
Pand. It 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.

Are you not grieved that Arthur is his prifoner?
Levis. As heartily as he is glad he hath him.
Pand. Your mind is all as youthful as your blood.
Now hear me fpeak with a prophetic fpirit;
For even the breath of what I mean to ipeak
Shall blow each duft, each ftraw, each little rub,
Out of the path which shall directly lead

Thy foot to England's throne; and therefore mark.
John hath feized Arthur, and it cannot be
That whilt warm life plays in that infant's veins,
The mifplaced John fhould entertain an hour,
A minute, nay, one quiet breath of rest.
A fceptre fnatched with an unruly hand,
Must be as boisterously maintained as gained,
And he, that ftands upon a flippery place,
Makes nice of no vile hold to itay him up.
That John may stand, then Arthur needs must fall;
So be it, for it cannot be but so.

Lewis. But what shall 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 your plots; the times confpire with you; .
For he that fteeps his fafety in true blood,
Shall find but bloody fafety and untrue.
This act fo evilly born, fhall cool the harts
Of all his people, and freeze up their z al;
That no fo finall advantage shall step forth
To check his reign, but they will cherish it.
No nat'ral exhalation in the fky,

No fcape of nature, no diltempered day,
No common wind, no customed event,
But they will pluck away its natural cause,
And call them meteors, prodigies, and figns,
Abortives and prefages, tongues of Heaven
Plainly denouncing vengeance upon John.
Lewis. May be he will not touch young Arthur's
But hold himself fafe in his prifonment. [life,
Pand. O Sir, when he fhall hear of your approach,
If that young Arthur be not gone already,
Even at this news he dies: and then the hearts
"Of all his people fhall revolt from him,
And kifs the lips of unacquainted change;
And pick strong matter of revolt and wrath,
Out of the bloody fingers' ends of John.
Methinks I fee this hurly all on foot;
And O, what better matter breeds for you
Than I have named !---The Baltard 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;
Or, as a little now, 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.

A CT IV.

SCENE changes to England.

A Prifan

Enter HUBERT and Executioner.

HUBERT.

HEAT me thefe irons hot, and look thou ftand

you

Within the arras: when I ftrike my foot Upon the bofom of the ground, rufh forth, And bind the boy, which fhall find with me,, Fast to the chair. Be heedful; hence, and watch. Exe. 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 say with you. Enter ARTHUR.

Arth. Good morrow, Hubert.

Hub. Good morrow, little Prince.

Arth. As little Prince (having fo great a title To be more Prince) as may be. You are fad. Hub. Indeed I have been merrier.

14

Arth. Mercy on me!

Methinks nobody fhould 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 Chriftendom,
So were I out of prison, 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?