Counts it your weale: he haue his liberty.
Enter Hubert.

Iohn. Let it be so: I do commit his youth
To your direction: Hubert, what newes with you?
Pem. This is the man should do the bloody deed:
He shew'd his warrant to a friend of mine,
The image of a wicked heynous fault
Liues in his eye: that close aspect of his,
Do shew the mood of a much troubled brest,
And I do fearefully beleeue 'tis done,
What we so fear'd he had a charge to do

Sal. The colour of the King doth come, and go
Betweene his purpose and his conscience,
Like Heralds 'twixt two dreadfull battailes set:
His passion is so ripe, it needs must breake

Pem. And when it breakes, I feare will issue thence
The foule corruption of a sweet childes death

Iohn. We cannot hold mortalities strong hand.
Good Lords, although my will to giue, is liuing,
The suite which you demand is gone, and dead.
He tels vs Arthur is deceas'd to night

Sal. Indeed we fear'd his sicknesse was past cure

Pem. Indeed we heard how neere his death he was,
Before the childe himselfe felt he was sicke: