Shakespeare - First Folio facsimile (1910)/The Life and Death of King John/Act 5 Scene 4
Scena Quarta.
Enter Salisbury, Pembroke, and Bigot.
Sal. I did not thinke the King so stor'd with friends.
Pem. Vp once againe: put spirit in the French,If they miscarry: we miscarry too.
Sal. That misbegotten diuell Falconbridge,In spight of spight, alone vpholds the day.
Pem. They say King Iohn sore sick, hath left the field.
Enter Meloon wounded.
Mel. Lead me to the Reuolts of England heere.
Sal. When we were happie, we had other names.
Pem. It is the Count Meloone.
Sal. Wounded to death.
Mel. Fly Noble English, you are bought and sold,Vnthred the rude eye of Rebellion,And welcome home againe discarded faith,Seeke out King Iohn, and fall before his feete:For if the French be Lords of this loud day,He meanes to recompence the paines you take,By cutting off your heads: Thus hath he sworne,And I with him, and many moe with mee,Vpon the Altar at S. Edmondsbury,Euen on that Altar, where we swore to youDeere Amity, and euerlasting loue.
Sal. May this be possible? May this be true?
Mel. Haue I not hideous death within my view,Retaining but a quantity of life,Which bleeds away, euen as a forme of waxeResolueth from his figure 'gainst the fire?What in the world should make me now deceiue,Since I must loose the vse of all deceite?Why should I then be false, since it is trueThat I must dye heere, and liue hence, by Truth?I say againe, if Lewis do win the day,He is forsworne, if ere those eyes of yoursBehold another day breake in the East:But euen this night, whose blacke contagious breathAlready smoakes about the burning CrestOf the old, feeble, and day-wearied Sunne,Euen this ill night, your breathing shall expire,Paying the fine of rated Treachery,Euen with a treacherous fine of all your liues:If Lewis, by your assistance win the day.Commend me to one Hubert, with your King;The loue of him, and this respect besides(For that my Grandsire was an Englishman)Awakes my Conscience to confesse all this.In lieu whereof, I pray you beare me henceFrom forth the noise and rumour of the Field;Where I may thinke the remnant of my thoughtsIn peace: and part this bodie and my souleWith contemplation, and deuout desires.
Sal. We do beleeue thee, and beshrew my soule,But I do loue the fauour, and the formeOf this most faire occasion, by the whichWe will vntread the steps of damned flight,And like a bated and retired Flood,Leauing our ranknesse and irregular course,Stoope lowe within those bounds we haue ore-look'd,And calmely run on in obedienceEuen to our Ocean, to our great King Iohn.My arme shall giue thee helpe to beare thee hence, For I do see the cruell pangs of deathRight in thine eye. Away, my friends, new flight,ExeuntAnd happie newnesse, that intends old right.