Sal. Murder, as hating what himself hath done,
Doth lay it open to urge on revenge.
Big. Or, when he doom'd this beauty to a grave,[523]
Found it too precious-princely for a grave.[524]40
Sal. Sir Richard, what think you? have you beheld,[525]
Or have you read or heard? or could you think?
Or do you almost think, although you see,
That you do see? could thought, without this object,[526]
Form such another? This is the very top,[527]45
The height, the crest, or crest unto the crest,
Of murder's arms: this is the bloodiest shame,
The wildest savagery, the vilest stroke,
That ever wall-eyed wrath or staring rage
Presented to the tears of soft remorse.50
Pem. All murders past do stand excused in this:
And this, so sole and so unmatchable,
Shall give a holiness, a purity,
To the yet unbegotten sin of times;[528]
And prove a deadly bloodshed but a jest,55
Exampled by this heinous spectacle.
Bast. It is a damned and a bloody work;
The graceless action of a heavy hand,
If that it be the work of any-hand.
Sal. If that it be the work of any hand![529]60
We had a kind of light what would ensue:
It is the shameful work of Hubert's hand;
The practice and the purpose of the king:
From whose obedience I forbid my soul,
Kneeling before this ruin of sweet life,65
And breathing to his breathless excellence[530]
The incense of a vow, a holy vow,
Never to taste the pleasures of the world,
Never to be infected with delight,
Nor conversant with ease and idleness,70
Till I have set a glory to this hand,[531]
By giving it the worship of revenge.
Pem. } Our souls religiously confirm thy words.
Big. }
Enter Hubert.
Hub. Lords, I am hot with haste in seeking you:[532]
Arthur doth live; the king hath sent for you.75
Sal. O, he is bold and blushes not at death.
Avaunt, thou hateful villain, get thee gone!