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SCENE VII.—The orchard of Swinstead-Abbey.
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 That, being brought into the open air, [belief, It would aslay the burning quality Of that fell poison which assaileth him.
P. Hen. Let him be brought into the orchard here.Doth he still rage?
He is more patient Than when you left him ; even now he sung.
P. Hen. O vanity of sickness ! fierce extremes,
Sal. Be of good comfort, prince; for you are born
1 i. e, corruptively. • In their tumult and hurry of resorting to the last tenable part.
To set a form upon that indigest'
- John in a chair.
P. Hen. How fares your majesty?
K. John. Poison'd,-ill-fare; dead, forsook, cast And none of you will bid the winter come, [off: To thrust his icy fingers in my maw; Nor let my kingdom's rivers take their course Through my burn'd bosom; nor entreat the north To make his bleak winds kiss my parched lips, And comfort me with cold :-I do not ask you much, I beg cold comfort; and you are so strait, And so ingrateful, you deny me that.
The salt in them is hot.-
K. John. O cousin, thou art come to set mine eye:
ii. e. chaos.
· shrouds, in its true sense of ropes.
Which holds but till thy news be uttered;
Phil. The Dauphin is preparing hitherward;
ear. My liege! my lord !—But now a king,—now thus.
P. Hen. Even so must I run on, and even so stop. What surety of the world, what hope, what stay, When this was now a king, and now is clay!
Phil. Art thou gone so? I do but stay behind, To do the office for thee of revenge; And then my soul shall wait on thee to heaven, As it on earth hath been thy servant still. Now, now, you stars, that move in your right spheres, Where be your powers ? Show now your mended And instantly return with me again,
[faiths; To push destruction, and perpetual shame, Out of the weak door of our fainting land : Straight let us seek, or straight we shall be sought; The Dauphin rages at our very heels.
Sal. It seems, you know not then so much as we;
Phil. He will the rather do it, when he sees
· module, for copy, transcript. * This untoward accident really happened to king John himself in passing from Lynn to Lincolnshire.
Sal. Nay, it is in a manner done already;
Phil. Let it be so :—And you, my noble prince,
P. Hen. At Worcester must his body be interr’d,
Thither shall it then.
Sal. And the like tender of our love we make,
thanks, And knows not how to do it, but with tears.
Phil. 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.
END OF KING JOHN.