| ACT V SCENE VI | An open place in the neighbourhood of Swinstead Abbey. | |
| | Enter the BASTARD and HUBERT, severally. | |
| HUBERT | Who's there? speak, ho! speak quickly, or I shoot. | |
| BASTARD | A friend. What art thou? | |
| HUBERT | Of the part of England. | |
| BASTARD | Whither dost thou go? | 5 |
| HUBERT | What's that to thee? why may not I demand | |
| | Of thine affairs, as well as thou of mine? | |
| BASTARD | Hubert, I think? | |
| HUBERT | Thou hast a perfect thought: | |
| | I will upon all hazards well believe | 10 |
| | Thou art my friend, that know'st my tongue so well. | |
| | Who art thou? | |
| BASTARD | Who thou wilt: and if thou please, | |
| | Thou mayst befriend me so much as to think | |
| | I come one way of the Plantagenets. | 15 |
| HUBERT | Unkind remembrance! thou and eyeless night | |
| | Have done me shame: brave soldier, pardon me, | |
| | That any accent breaking from thy tongue | |
| | Should 'scape the true acquaintance of mine ear. | |
| BASTARD | Come, come; sans compliment, what news abroad? | 20 |
| HUBERT | Why, here walk I in the black brow of night, | |
| | To find you out. | |
| BASTARD | Brief, then; and what's the news? | |
| HUBERT | O, my sweet sir, news fitting to the night, | |
| | Black, fearful, comfortless and horrible. | 25 |
| BASTARD | Show me the very wound of this ill news: | |
| | I am no woman, I'll not swoon at it. | |
| HUBERT | The king, I fear, is poison'd by a monk: | |
| | I left him almost speechless; and broke out | |
| | To acquaint you with this evil, that you might | 30 |
| | The better arm you to the sudden time, | |
| | Than if you had at leisure known of this. | |
| BASTARD | How did he take it? who did taste to him? | |
| HUBERT | A monk, I tell you; a resolved villain, | |
| | Whose bowels suddenly burst out: the king | 35 |
| | Yet speaks and peradventure may recover. | |
| BASTARD | Who didst thou leave to tend his majesty? | |
| HUBERT | Why, know you not? the lords are all come back, | |
| | And brought Prince Henry in their company; | |
| | At whose request the king hath pardon'd them, | 40 |
| | And they are all about his majesty. | |
| BASTARD | Withhold thine indignation, mighty heaven, | |
| | And tempt us not to bear above our power! | |
| | I'll tell tree, Hubert, half my power this night, | |
| | Passing these flats, are taken by the tide; | 45 |
| | These Lincoln Washes have devoured them; | |
| | Myself, well mounted, hardly have escaped. | |
| | Away before: conduct me to the king; | |
| | I doubt he will be dead or ere I come. | |
| | Exeunt | |
