The Orchard of Swinstead Abbey.
 Enter PRINCE HENRY, SALISBURY, and BIGOT.

Prince Henry	It is too late; the life of all his blood
	Is touched 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.

Pembroke	His highness yet doth speak, and holds belief
	That being brought into the open air,
	It would allay the burning quality
	Of that fell poison which assaileth him.

Prince Henry	Let him be brought into the orchard here.
													[Exit BIGOT.
	Doth he still rage?

Pembroke								He is more patient
	Than when you left him. Even now he sung.

Prince Henry	O vanity of sickness! Fierce extremes
	In their continuance will not feel themselves.
	Death, having preyed upon the outward parts,
	Leaves them invisible, and his siege is now
	Against the mind, the which he pricks and wounds
	With many legions of strange fantasies,
	Which, in their throng and press to that last hold,
	Confound themselves. 'Tis strange that death should sing.
	I am the cygnet to this pale faint swan
	Who chants a doleful hymn to his own death,
	And from the organ-pipe of frailty sings
	His soul and body to their lasting rest.

Salisbury	Be of good comfort, prince; for you are born
	To set a form upon that indigest
	Which he hath left so shapeless and so rude.

              KING JOHN brought in by BIGOT and ATTENDANTS.

King John	Ay, marry, now my soul hath elbow-room;
	It would not out at windows nor at doors.
	There is so hot a summer in my bosom
	That all my bowels crumble up to dust.
	I am a scribbled form drawn with a pen
	Upon a parchment, and against this fire
	Do I shrink up.

Prince Henry						How fares your majesty?

King John	Poisoned - ill fare: dead, forsook, cast off;
	And none of you will bid the winter come
	To thrust his icy fingers in my maw,
	Nor let my kingdom's rivers take their course
	Through my burned bosom, nor entreat the north
	To make his bleak winds kiss my parchd 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.

Prince Henry	O that there were some virtue in my tears
	That might relieve you.

King 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 condemnd blood.

                              Enter BASTARD.

Bastard	O, I am scalded with my violent motion
	And spleen of speed to see your majesty.

King John	O cousin, thou art come to set mine eye.
	The tackle of my heart is cracked and burned,
	And all the shrouds wherewith my life should sail
	Are turnd to one thread, one little hair;
	My heart hath one poor string to stay it by,
	Which holds but till thy news be utterd;
	And then all this thou seest is but a clod
	And module of confounded royalty.

Bastard	The Dauphin is preparing hitherward,
	Where God 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
	Devourd by the unexpected flood.
													[KING JOHN dies.

Salisbury	You breathe these dead news in as dead an ear.
	My liege, my lord: but now a king, now thus.

Prince Henry	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?

Bastard	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.
	[To PEMBROKE, SALISBURY, and BIGOT.]
	Now, now, you stars that move in your right spheres,
	Where be your powers? Show now your mended faiths,
	And instantly return with me again
	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.

Salisbury	It seems you know not, then, so much as we.
	The Cardinal Pandulph is within at rest,
	Who half an hour since came from the Dauphin,
	And brings from him such offers of our peace
	As we with honour and respect may take,
	With purpose presently to leave this war.

Bastard	He will the rather do it when he sees
	Ourselves well sinewd to our defence.

Salisbury	Nay, 'tis in a manner done already;
	For many carriages he hath dispatched
	To the seaside, and put his cause and quarrel
	To the disposing of the cardinal,
	With whom yourself, myself, and other lords,
	If you think meet, this afternoon will post
	To consummate this business happily.

Bastard	Let it be so. And you, my noble prince,
	With other princes that may best be spared,
	Shall wait upon your father's funeral.

Prince Henry	At Worcester must his body be interred;
	For so he willed it.

Bastard							Thither shall it then;
	And happily may your sweet self put on
	The lineal state and glory of the land;
	To whom, with all submission, on my knee,
	I do bequeath my faithful services
	And true subjection everlastingly.

Salisbury	And the like tender of our love we make,
	To rest without a spot for evermore.

Prince Henry	I have a kind soul that would give thanks,
	And knows not how to do it but with tears.

Bastard	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. Naught shall make us rue,
	If England to itself do rest but true.
													[Exeunt.
