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King John

Act V, Scene 7

The orchard in Swinstead Abbey.
 
[Enter PRINCE HENRY, SALISBURY, and BIGOT]
 
PRINCE HENRY
               ,    ,          ,        ,          ,
      It is / too late,| the life | of all | his blood
            ,          ,     ,                ,    ,
      Is touched,| corrupt|ibly:| and his / pure brain
               ,         ,          ,        T      Tx      T
      (Which some | suppose | the soul's | frail dwelling-house) ??
        ,            ,     ,          ,         ,
      Doth by | the id|le com|ments that | it makes,
            ,         ,       ,       ,    ,
      Foretell | the end|ing of | mortal|ity.
 
[Enter PEMBROKE]
 
PEMBROKE
            ,        ,           ,           ,         ,
      His high|ness yet | doth speak,| and holds | belief,
            ,        ,         ,        ,     ,
      That be|ing brought | into | the op|en air,
           ,        ,         ,        ,     ,
      It would | allay | the burn|ing qual|ity
                  ,   ,        ,         ,       ,
      Of that / fell pois|on which | assail|eth him.
 
PRINCE HENRY
       ,              ,         ,         ,        ,
      Let him | be brought | into | the orch|ard here:
        ,         T     T
      Doth he | still rage?
 
[Exit BIGOT]
 
PEMBROKE
                             T        ,     ,
                            He | is more | patient
             ,          ,         ,      ,         ,
      Than when | you left | him; ev|en now | he sung.
 
PRINCE HENRY
         ,    ,        ,           ,         ,
      O van|ity | of sick|ness: fierce | extremes
           ,         ,    2      ,          ,          ,
      In their | contin|uance, will | not feel | themselves.
        ,              ,       ,         ,         ,
      Death hav|ing preyed | upon | the out|ward parts
         ,             ,    ,       2      ,         ,
      Leaves them | invis|ible,| and his siege | is now
          ,           ,          ,           ,            ,
      Against | the mind,| the which | he pricks | and wounds
            ,     ,               ,      ,     ,
      With ma|ny leg|ions of / strange fant|asies,
             ,            ,           ,                 ,    ,
      Which in | their throng,| and press | to that / last hold,
           ,            ,             ,             ,              ,
      Confound | themselves.| 'Tis strange | that death | should sing:
      ,   2       ,            ,      T    T     T
      I am the | cygnet | to this | pale faint swan,
             ,         ,        ,              ,    ,
      Who chants | a dole|ful hymn | to his / own death,
            ,         ,       ,         ,        ,
      And from | the org|an-pipe | of frail|ty sings
            ,         ,     ,          ,         ,
      His soul | and bo|dy to | their last|ing rest.
 
SALISBURY
       ,             ,           ,          ,          ,
      Be of | good* com|fort (prince)| for you | are born
          ,        ,      ,          ,     ,
      To set | a form | upon | that ind|igest
             ,          ,         ,          ,         ,
      Which he | hath left | so shape|less, and | so rude.
 
[Enter Attendants, and BIGOT, carrying KING JOHN in a chair]
 
KING JOHN
            ,       ,         ,          ,       ,
      Aye* mar|ry, now | my soul | hath el|bow room,
           ,          ,        ,         ,         ,
      It would | not out | at wind|ows, nor | at doors,
           2    ,    ,       ,        ,       ,
      There is so | hot a | summer | in my | bosom,
            ,        ,        ,       ,        ,
      That all | my bow|els crum|ble up | to dust:
         ,       ,          ,      ,             ,
      I am | a scrib|bled form | drawn with | a pen
        ,        ,          ,        ,            ,
      Upon | a parch|ment, and | against | this fire
         ,           ,
      Do I | shrink^up.
 
PRINCE HENRY
                             ,           ,    ,
                       How fares | your maj|esty?
 
KING JOHN
       ,          T    T     T         ,          ,
      Poisoned,| ill fare: dead,| forsook,| cast^off,
            ,        ,          ,         ,        ,
      And none | of you | will bid | the wint|er come
            ,         ,     ,        ,       ,
      To thrust | his i|cy fing|ers in | my maw;
           ,         ,         ,        ,             ,
      Nor let | my king|dom's riv|ers take | their course
                      ,    ,       ,        ,           ,
      Through my / burned bos|om: nor | entreat | the north
             x        T     T     T         ,        ,
      To make his | bleak winds kiss | my parch|ed lips,  ??
           ,       ,        ,         ,   ,        ,
      And comfort me with cold. I do not ask you much,  ????
         ,      ,   ,               ,              ,
      I beg | cold com/fort: and | you are | so straight
           ,       ,         ,       ,        ,
      And so | ingrate|ful, you | deny | me that.
 
PRINCE HENRY
          ,            ,          ,       ,        ,
      O that | there were | some vir|tue in | my tears,
             ,         ,        2
      That might | relieve | you.
 
KING JOHN
                                        ,         ,        ,
                                  The salt | in them | is hot.
          ,        ,       ,          ,            x
      Within | me is | a hell,| and there | the poison
       ,           ,          ,         ,      ,
      Is, as | a fiend,| confined | to tyr|annize,
          ,     ,     ,        ,        ,
      On un|repriev|able | condem|ned blood.
 
[Enter the BASTARD]
 
BASTARD
       ,   2       ,         ,        ,         ,
      Oh, I am | scalded | with my | violent | motion
             ,          ,         ,          ,    ,
      And spleen | of speed,| to see | your maj|esty.
 
KING JOHN
           ,        ,          ,        ,          ,
      Oh cous|in, thou | art come | to set | mine eye:
            ,      ,        ,           ,             ,
      The tack|le of | my heart,| is cracked | and burned,
           ,           ,             ,         ,             ,
      And all | the shrouds | wherewith | my life | should sail,
             ,         ,       T     T   T        ,
      Are turned | to one | thread, one lit|tle hair:
           ,           ,             ,          ,        ,
      My heart | hath one | poor* string | to stay | it by,
              ,           ,          ,        ,     ,
      Which holds | but till | thy news | be ut|tered,
            ,          ,           ,         ,        ,
      And then | all this | thou seest,| is but | a clod,
           ,       ,        ,       ,     ,
      And mod|ule of | confound|ed roy|alty.
 
BASTARD
            ,       ,       ,        ,      ,
      The Dauph|in is | prepar|ing hith|erward,
               x           ,         ,          ,       ,
      Where heaven | He knows | how we | shall ans|wer him.
           ,       ,           ,      ,            x
      For in | a night | the best | part of | my power,
         ,     ,        ,       ,        ,
      As I | upon | advant|age did | remove,
            ,         ,      ,       ,    ,
      Were in | the Wash|es all | unwar|ily,
          ,      ,        ,     ,       ,
      Devour|ed by | the un|expect|ed flood.
 
[KING JOHN dies]
 
SALISBURY
             ,              ,      ,            ,        ,
      You breathe | these dead | news in | as dead | an ear.
           ,          ,         ,    .   T    T    T
      My liege,| my lord:| but now | a king, now thus.
 
PRINCE HENRY
        2   ,        ,        ,         x          ,
      Even so | must I | run on,| and even | so* stop.
             ,      ,         ,            ,           ,
      What sure|ty of | the world,| what hope,| what stay,
             ,         ,        ,         ,         ,
      When this | was now | a king,| and now | is clay?
 
BASTARD
       ,           ,          ,         ,        ,
      Art thou | gone so?| I do | but stay | behind,
          ,        ,       ,           ,       ,
      To do | the of|fice for | thee, of | revenge,
            ,         ,            ,         ,          x
      And then | my soul | shall wait | on thee | to heaven,
          ,        ,            ,          ,        ,
      As it | on earth | hath been | thy serv|ant still.
             ,          ,            ,                ,      ,
      Now*, now,| you stars | that move | in your / right spheres,
             ,           x           ,           ,        ,
      Where be | your powers?| Show now | your mend|ed faiths,
            ,      ,       ,          ,      ,
      And inst|antly | return | with me | again,
           ,         ,         ,        ,   2    ,
      To push | destruc|tion, and | perpet|ual shame
       ,             ,      ,             ,         ,
      Out of | the weak | door of | our faint|ing land:
          T     T   .   T           ,           ,           ,
      Straight let us seek,| or straight | we shall | be sought,
            ,       ,      ,        ,      ,
      The Dauph|in rag|es at | our ver|y heels.
 
SALISBURY
           ,           ,          ,         ,        ,
      It seems | you know | not^then | so much | as we:
            ,    2    ,        ,       ,         ,
      The Card|inal Pand|ulph is | within | at rest,
            ,     .   T    T     T      ,          ,
      Who half | an hour since came | from the | Dauphin,
             ,           ,          ,       ,         ,
      And brings | from him | such^of|fers of | our peace,
          ,         ,      ,        ,           ,
      As we | with hon|or and | respect | may take,
            ,         ,      ,        ,           ,
      With pur|pose pres|ently | to leave | this war.
 
BASTARD
           ,          ,      ,         ,         ,
      He will | the rath|er do | it, when | he sees
            ,            ,     ,       ,        ,
      Ourselves | well* sin|ewed | to our | defense.
 
SALISBURY
       ,         ,   2     ,         ,       ,
      Nay, it | is in a | manner | done al|ready,
           ,     ,      ,         ,          ,
      For man|y car|riages | he hath | dispatched
                ,   ,         ,          ,             x
      To the / seaside,| and put | his cause | and quarrel
       ,           ,       ,         ,    ,
      To the | dispos|ing of | the card|inal,
             ,          ,        ,         ,       ,
      With whom | yourself,| myself,| and oth|er lords,
       .  T    T     T          ,      ,           ,
      If you think meet,| this aft|ernoon | will post
          ,       ,          ,         ,     ,
      To con|summate | this bus|iness hap|pily.
 
BASTARD
       ,           ,        ,        ,        ,
      Let it | be so,| and you | my nob|le prince,
            ,       ,        ,          ,          ,
      With oth|er princ|es that | may best | be spared,
              ,      ,           ,        ,    ,
      Shall wait | upon | your fath|er's fun|eral.
 
PRINCE HENRY
           ,          ,         ,     ,        ,
      At Worce|ster must | his bod|y be | interred,
           ,         ,  
      For so | he willed | it.
 
BASTARD
                                 ,        ,          ,
                               Thith|er shall | it then,
           ,     ,                 ,     ,         ,
      And hap|pily | may* your / sweet self | put on
           ,   2    ,          ,      ,         ,
      The lin|eal state,| and glo|ry of | the land,
           ,          ,        ,        ,        ,
      To whom | with all | submis|sion on | my knee,
         ,        ,          ,        ,     ,
      I do | bequeath | my faith|ful ser|vices
            ,        ,        ,     ,      ,
      And true | subjec|tion ev|erlast|ingly.
 
SALISBURY
                  ,    ,      ,         ,         ,
      And the / like tend|er of | our love | we make
           ,         ,        ,         ,     ,
      To rest | without | a spot | for ev|ermore.
 
PRINCE HENRY
          ,        ,      ,                  ,           ,
      I have | a kind | soul, that | would give | you thanks,
            ,          ,        ,        ,           ,
      And knows | not^how | to do | it, but | with tears.
 
BASTARD
          ,        ,          ,          ,       ,
      Oh let | us pay | the time:| but need|ful woe,
             ,          ,        ,    ,                ,
      Since^it | hath been | before|hand with | our griefs.
            ,        ,      ,         ,       ,
      This Eng|land nev|er did,| nor nev|er shall,
       ,             ,       ,          ,      ,
      Lie at | the proud | foot of | a con|queror,
            ,         ,           ,         ,         ,
      But when | it first | did help | to wound | itself.
       T     T    T      ,    2        T    T  .  T
      Now, these her | princes are | come home again,  ??
        ,          ,     ,                 ,          ,
      Come the | three corn/ers of | the world | in arms,
           ,           ,              ,             ,        ,
      And we | shall shock | them: Nought | shall make | us rue,
          ,        ,       ,         ,          ,
      If Eng|land to | itself | do rest | but true.
 
[Exeunt]

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