Arthur.
O Hubert! Hubert! are my Hopes at last
Confin'd within these lonely, ragged Walls!
Was it for this thy fruitless Mercy spar'd me?
Ah! what is Life depriv'd of Liberty?
It shall be so, these Walls no more shall hide me:
The Mote beneath I've fathom'd with a Line,
And find its Depth proportion'd to my Stature;
At worst, the Danger's less attempting to escape,
Than pining here in hourly Fear of Death:
Take Courage Heart! whatever Chance befal thee
Cannot be sorer than my Suff'ring here.
Eternal Providence, to thee I bow,
Extend thy gracious Arm to save my Fall!
  But if thy sacred Pleasure has decreed,
  Thy sinful Creature must untimely bleed;
  For a repentant Soul, ye Saints, make room,

  Who seeks his Happiness in Worlds to come, [He leaps from the Walls, and is cover'd by a Parapet between his Body and the Audience. Enter Falconbridge, Hubert, Salisbury, Pembroke and Arundel.

Salis.
Prove him but living, and the Terms are welcome:
Nor think our Bodies have been cas'd in Steel,
To wrong the native Course of royal Pow'r:
But to assert our Liberties and Rights,
As in the Laws of Edward they are cited.
Which if the King by Charter shall confirm,
And give Enfranchisement to Royal Arthur,
Nor mew him up to choke his Days
With barb'rous Ignorance, or deny his Youth
The princely Helps of graceful Exercise,
Then shall appeas'd Resistance sheath her Sword,
Or henceforth turn it on the Foes of England!

Fal.
Spoke with the Spirit of an English Noble!
Nought then remains, but that your Eyes have Proof
Of Arthur's Health and princely Liberty.
Hubert, conduct us— [As they are passing to the Castle, Salisbury sees the Body of Arthur in the Ditch.

Salis.
—Ha! what Body's this,
That in the Water, 'mid'st the Weeds and Rushes,
Mischance or Malice has depriv'd of Life! [They bring the Body forward:
Ha! 'tis he! 'tis Arthur! royal Arthur breathless!
Pale, cold, and lost beyond Recovery!

Hub.
O fatal Chance—

Fal.
—Hubert! if thou hast done
This Deed, or but in Thought consented to it,
Thou art more deeply damn'd than Lucifer!

Hub.
By Heav'n! within this Hour I left him living!

Salis.
This sure is the most savage Act of Power,
The deadliest Wound that ever wall-ey'd Rage
Or Malice gave the Heart of Innocence!

Fal.
Villain! I do suspect thee grievously!

Hub.
Then, on my Soul, most grievously you wrong me!

Salis.
Wrong thee, Traitor! what Proof so palpable!

Hub.
If I in Act, Direction or Consent,
Have done, conspir'd or compass'd ought
That has bereft this hapless Youth of Life,
Let Hell want Pains to punish me!

Salis.
Since Murder thus defies the Pains of Hell,
Down then to Hell's wide Horrors that attend thee. [Stabs him.

Fal.
What has your Rashness done, my Lord!

Salis.
—A Deed
That dries the Tears of Pity with Revenge!

Fal.
Hubert, look up, and ere thy Breath forsakes thee,
Now, as thou hop'st to find eternal Mercy!
Inform us truly how this Youth was murder'd.

Hub.
Then by those last dear Hopes I'm ignorant!
But 'tis the Fate of those who once are guilty,
Never to be believ'd when innocent.
Thus having once consented to destroy him,
The bare Intention was a Crime too great,
To pass unheaded by eternal Justice;
Yet, let me say—so may my Soul reach Heav'n,
As of this Prince's Death I'm innocent. [Dies.

Fal.
You hear, My Lords, a dying Man's Report.

Salis.
We hear enough to charge his Death on Tyranny,
Whether by that vile Hand, or by Mischance,
It matters not, his Prison has destroy'd him!
Now back, Sir, to the King; tell him how ill
His Proofs of Arthur living have succeeded!
But how he dy'd our Swords shall have in Question;
Our Battles are at hand, if he thinks fit
To answer us in Arms, our Arms shall make
Reply—This tell him, Sir,—Our Parley's ended.

Fal.
But this, and I have done. I know the King
Is still inclin'd to give your Griefs Redress:
Consider, therefore, if you prosecute.
This War, how far more dangerous is the Cure
Your Swords apply, than what his Sceptre offers.

Salis.
The Danger be on us—

Fal.
—Farewel, my Lords. [Exit Fal.

Salis.
Now bear we to our Camp this injur'd Object,
Which, like the Wounds of Cæsar, when expos'd,
Shall raise the common Pity to Revenge,
And warm the neutral Coward to our Cause:
  But to his mournful Mother, O! what Heart,
  What Tongue the dismal Tidings shall impart! [Exeunt with the Body of Arthur.

Next section