Hub. Vpon my soule

Bast. If thou didst but consent

To this most cruell Act: do but dispaire,

And if thou want'st a Cord, the smallest thred

That euer Spider twisted from her wombe

Will serue to strangle thee: A rush will be a beame

To hang thee on. Or wouldst thou drowne thy selfe,

Put but a little water in a spoone,

And it shall be as all the Ocean,

Enough to stifle such a villaine vp.

I do suspect thee very greeuously

Hub. If I in act, consent, or sinne of thought,

Be guiltie of the stealing that sweete breath

Which was embounded in this beauteous clay,

Let hell want paines enough to torture me:

I left him well

Bast. Go, beare him in thine armes:

I am amaz'd me thinkes, and loose my way

Among the thornes, and dangers of this world.

How easie dost thou take all England vp,

From forth this morcell of dead Royaltie?

The life, the right, and truth of all this Realme

Is fled to heauen: and England now is left

To tug and scamble, and to part by th' teeth

The vn-owed interest of proud swelling State:

Now for the bare-pickt bone of Maiesty,

Doth dogged warre bristle his angry crest,

And snarleth in the gentle eyes of peace:

Now Powers from home, and discontents at home

Meet in one line: and vast confusion waites

As doth a Rauen on a sicke-falne beast,

The iminent decay of wrested pompe.

Now happy he, whose cloake and center can

Hold out this tempest. Beare away that childe,

And follow me with speed: Ile to the King:

A thousand businesses are briefe in hand,

And heauen it selfe doth frowne vpon the Land.

Enter.

Actus Quartus, Scaena prima.

Enter King Iohn and Pandolph, attendants.

K.Iohn. Thus haue I yeelded vp into your hand

The Circle of my glory

Pan. Take againe

From this my hand, as holding of the Pope

Your Soueraigne greatnesse and authoritie

Iohn. Now keep your holy word, go meet the French,

And from his holinesse vse all your power

To stop their marches 'fore we are enflam'd:

Our discontented Counties doe reuolt:

Our people quarrell with obedience,

Swearing Allegiance, and the loue of soule

To stranger-bloud, to forren Royalty;

This inundation of mistempred humor,

Rests by you onely to be qualified.

Then pause not: for the present time's so sicke,

That present medcine must be ministred,

Or ouerthrow incureable ensues

Pand. It was my breath that blew this Tempest vp,

Vpon your stubborne vsage of the Pope:

But since you are a gentle conuertite,

My tongue shall hush againe this storme of warre,

And make faire weather in your blustring land:

On this Ascention day, remember well,

Vpon your oath of seruice to the Pope,

Goe I to make the French lay downe their Armes.

Enter.

Iohn. Is this Ascension day? did not the Prophet

Say, that before Ascension day at noone,

My Crowne I should giue off? euen so I haue:

I did suppose it should be on constraint,

But (heau'n be thank'd) it is but voluntary.

Enter Bastard.

Bast. All Kent hath yeelded: nothing there holds out

But Douer Castle: London hath receiu'd

Like a kinde Host, the Dolphin and his powers.

Your Nobles will not heare you, but are gone

To offer seruice to your enemy:

And wilde amazement hurries vp and downe

The little number of your doubtfull friends

Iohn. Would not my Lords returne to me againe

After they heard yong Arthur was aliue?

Bast. They found him dead, and cast into the streets,

An empty Casket, where the Iewell of life

By some damn'd hand was rob'd, and tane away

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