With our pure honours, nor attend the foot That leaves the print of blood where-e'er it walks: Return, and tell him so; we know the worst. Faulc. Whate'er you think, good words, I think, were best. Sal. Our griefs, and not our manners, reason now. Faulc. But there is little reason in your grief; Therefore, 'twere reason, you had manners now. 450 Pemb. Sir, sir, impatience hath its privilege. Faulc. 'Tis true; to hurt his master, no man else. Sal. This is the prison: What is he lies here ? [Seeing ARTHUR. Pemb. O death, made proud with pure and princely beauty! The earth had not a hole to hide this deed. Sal. Murder, as hating what himself hath done, Doth lay it open to urge on revenge. Bigot. Or, when he doom'd this beauty to the grave, Found it too precious-princely for a grave. Sal. Sir Richard, what think you? Have you be held, 460 The height, the crest, or crest unto the crest, Pemb. Pemb. All murders past do stand excus'd in this: And this, so sole, and so unmatchable, Shall give a holiness, a purity, To the yet-unbegotten sins of time; 471 And prove a deadly bloodshed but a jest, Faulc. It is a damned and a bloody work; Sal. If that it be the work of any hand?— 489 490 Pemb. Bigot. Our souls religiously confirm thy. words. Enter HUBERT. Hub. Lords, I am hot with haste in seeking you: Arthur doth live; the king hath sent for you. Sal. Oh, he is bold, and blushes not at death :Avaunt, thou hateful villain, get thee gone! Hub. I am no villain. Sal. Must I rob the law? [Drawing his Sword. Nor tempt the danger of my true defence; Bigot. Out, dunghill! dar'st thou brave a noble man? Hub. Not for my life: but yet I dare defend My innocent life against an emperor. Sal. Thou art a murderer. Hub. Do not prove me so; 510 Yet, I am none: Whose tongue soe'er speaks false, Not truly speaks; who speaks not truly, lies. Pemb. Cut him to pieces. Faulc. Keep the peace, I say. Sal. Stand by, or I shall gaul you, Faulconbridge. Faulc. Thou wert better gaul the devil, Salisbury: If thou but frown on me, or stir thy foot, Or teach thy hasty spleen to do me shame, I'll strike thee dead. Put up thy sword betime; 520 Or I'll so maul you and your toasting-iron, That you shall think the devil is come from hell. Bigot. What wilt thou do, renowned Faulcon bridge? Second a villain, and a murderer? Hub. Lord Bigot, I am none, Bigot. Who kill'd this prince ? Hub. 'Tis not an hour since I left him well: And he, long traded in it, makes it seem 531 Bigot. Away, toward Bury, to the Dauphin there! Pemb. There, tell the king, he may inquire us out. [Exeunt Lords. Faulc. Here's a good world!-Knew you of this fair work? Beyond the infinite and boundless reach Of mercy, if thou didst this deed of death, Art thou damn'd, Hubert. Hub. Do but hear me, sir. Faulc. Ha! I'll tell thee what; 540 Thou art damn'd so black-nay, nothing is so black; Thou art more deep damn'd than prince Lucifer: There is not yet so ugly a fiend of hell As thou shalt be, if thou didst kill this child. Hub. Upon my soul Faulc. If thou didst but consent 550 To this most cruel ast, do but despair, And, And, if thou want'st a cord, the smallest thread Will serve to strangle thee; a rush will be a beam And it shall be as all the ocean, I do suspect thee very grievously. Hub. If I in act, consent, or sin of thought, 560 Be guilty of the stealing that sweet breath Which was embounded in this beauteous clay, Let hell want pains enough to torture me! I left him well. Faulc. Go, bear him in thine arms. I am amaz'd, methinks; and lose my way Now powers from home, and discontents at home, Now happy he, whose cloak and cincture can 570 580 Hold |