And so ingrateful, you deny me that. P. Hen. O that there were some virtue in my tears, That might relieve you! K. John. The salt in them is hot Within me is a hell; and there the poison Is as a fiend confined 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 The tackle of my heart is crack'd and burn'd, And module of confounded royalty. 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, As I upon advantage did remove, Were in the Washes all unwarily Devoured by the unexpected flood. [The king dies. Sal. You breathe these dead news in as dead an ear. My liege! my lord! but now a king, now thus. stop. 58. module. . ., the mould or form of annihilated royalty. 60. answer, confront, meet. 50 60 62. upon advantage, as a favourable opportunity occurred. 65. dead news, news of death. What surety of the world, what hope, what stay, Bast. Art thou gone so? I do but stay behind 70 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 Where be your powers? show now your mended faiths, And instantly return with me again, To push destruction and perpetual shame Sal. It seems you know not, then, so much as we: The Cardinal Pandulph is within at rest, 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, you think meet, this afternoon will post To consummate this business happily. Bast. Let it be so: and you, my noble prince, With other princes that may best be spared, 82. Cardinal Pandulph. The historic cardinal who effected the negotiations was no longer 80 90 Pandulph, but Gualo (Hol. iii. 192). 97. princes, lords. Shall wait upon your father's funeral. P. Hen. At Worcester must his body be in terr'd; For so he will'd it. Bast. Thither shall it then : 100 And happily may your sweet self put on 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 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, Lie at the proud foot of a conqueror, But when it first did help to wound itself. 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. ΣΤΟ 104. bequeath, transfer. |