No: know the gallant monarch is in arms,

And like an eagle o'er his aiery towers,

80

To souse annoyance that comes near his nest.

And you degenerate, you ingrate revolts

From your dear mother England, blush for shame.

Lew. There end thy brave, and turn thy face in peace;

We grant thou canst outscold us: fare thee well.

We hold our time too precious to be spent

With such a brabbler.

Pand.

Give me leave to speak.

We will attend to neither.

Bast. No, I will speak.

Lew.

Strike up

the drums: and let the tongue of war

Plead for our interest and our being here.

Bast. Indeed, your drums, being beaten, will cry out; And so shall you, being beaten. Do but start

An echo with the clamour of thy drum,

For at hand,

And even at hand a drum is ready brac'd,
That shall reverberate all as loud as thine.
Sound but another, and another shall
As loud as thine rattle the welkin's ear,
And mock the deep-mouth'd thunder.
Not trusting to this halting legate here,
Whom he hath used rather for sport than need,
Is warlike John; and in his forehead sits
A bare-ribb'd death, whose office is this day

To feast upon whole thousands of the French.

Lew. Strike up our drums, to find this danger out.

90

100

Bast. And thou shalt find it, Dauphin, do not doubt. [Exeunt.

The field of battle.

Alarums. Enter KING JOHN and HUBERT.

K. John. How goes the day with us? O, tell me, Hubert. Hub. Badly, I fear. How fares your majesty?

K. John. This fever, that hath troubled me so long,

Lies heavy on me; O, my heart is sick!

Enter a Messenger.

Mess. My lord, your valiant kinsman, Faulconbridge, Desires your majesty to leave the field,

And send him word by me which way you go.

K. John. Tell him, toward Swinstead, to the abbey there. Mess. Be of good comfort; for the great supply

That was expected by the Dauphin here,

Are wreck'd three nights ago on Goodwin Sands. his news was brought to Richard but even now.

110

K. John. Ay me! this tyrant fever burns me up, And will not let me welcome this good news.

Set on toward Swinstead: to my litter straight;

Weakness possesseth me, and I am faint.

120

[Exeunt.

An open place in the neighbourhood of Swinstead Abbey. Enter the BASTARD and HUBERT, severally.

Hub. Who's there? Speak, ho! Speak quickly, or I shoot. Bast. A friend. What art thou?

Hub.

Bast. Hubert, I think?

Of the part of England.

Brief then; and, what's the news? Hub. O, my sweet sir, news fitting to the night, Black, fearful, comfortless, and horrible.

Bast. Show me the very wound of this ill news:

I am no woman, I'll not swoon at it.

Hub. The king, I fear, is poison'd by a monk.
Bast. Who didst thou leave to tend his majesty?

Hub. Why, know you not? the lords are all come back,

And brought Prince Henry in their company.

Bast. I'll tell thee, Hubert, half my power this night,

Passing these flats, are taken by the tide;

These Lincoln Washes have devouréd them;

Myself, well mounted, hardly have escap❜d.

Away before conduct me to the king;

:

I doubt he will be dead or ere I come.

The orchard in Swinstead Abbey.

130

[Exeunt.

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.

Enter PEMBROKE.

Pem. His highness yet doth speak, and holds belief, That being brought into the open air,

It would allay the burning quality

Of that fell poison which assaileth him.

P. Hen. Let him be brought into the orchard here. Doth he still rage?

Pem.

He is more patient

Than when you left him: even now he sang.

140

[Exit Bigot.

150

Enter Attendants and BIGOT, carrying KING JOHN in

a chair.

K. John. Ay, marry, nòw my soul hath elbow-room. There is so hot a summer in my bosom,

And none of you will bid the winter come

To thrust his icy fingers in my maw,

And comfort me with cold. I do not ask you much.
P. Hen. O that there were some virtue in my

Enter the BASTARD.

tears!

K. John. O cousin, thou art come to set mine eye. My heart hath one poor string to stay it by,

Which holds but till thy news be uttered.

Bast. The Dauphin is preparing hitherward,

Where heaven He knows how we shall answer him;
For in a night the best part of my power,

Were in the Washes all unwarily

Devoured by the unexpected flood.

160

[The king dies.

Sal. You breathe these dead news in as dead an ear.

My liege! my lord! but now a kìng, now thùs.

To do the office for thee of revenge,

Bast. Art thou gone so ? I do but stay behind

170

And then my soul shall wait on thee to heaven,
As it on earth hath been thy servant still.

P. Hen. At Worcester must his body be interr'd;

For so he will'd it.

Bast.

Thither shall it then :

And happily there 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.

P. Hen. I have a kind soul that would give you 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,

180

Lie at the proud foot of a conqueror,

But when it first did help to wòund itsèlf.

Now these her princes are come home again,

Come the three corners of the world in arms,

And we shall shock them. Nought shall make us rue,
If England to itself do rest but true.

[Exeunt.

Enter ANTONIO, SALARINO, and SALANIO.

Ant. In sooth, I know not why I am so sad :

It wearies me; you say it wearies you;

But how I caught it, found it, or came by it,
I am to learn;

Salar.

Your mind is on the ocean; There, where your argosies with portly sail, Do overpeer the petty traffickers,

As they fly by them with their woven wings.

Ant. Believe me, no: I thank my fortune for it, My ventures are not in one bottom trusted,

Therefore my merchandise makes me not sad.

Enter BASSANIO, LORENZO, and GRATIANO. Salan. Here comes Bassanio, your most noble kinsman, Gratiano and Lorenzo. Fare ye well :

We leave you now with better company.

[Exeunt Salarino and Salanio.

Lor. My Lord Bassanio, since you have found Antonio,

We two will leave you: but at dinner-time,

I pray you, have in mind where we must meet,

Bass. I will not fail you.

Gra. You look not well, Signior Antonio;