Sound but another, and another fhall,

As loud as thine, rattle the welkin's ear,

And mock the deep-mouth'd thunder. For at hand-
(Not trusting to this halting Legate here,
Whom he hath us'd rather for sport, than need)
Is warlike John; and in his forehead fits

A bare-ribb'd death; whofe office is this day
To feaft upon whole thousands of the French..
Lewis. Strike up your drums, to find this danger out,
Faule. And thou shalt find it, Dauphin, do not doubt.
[Exeunt.
SCENE changes to a Field of Battle.

Alarms. Enter King John and Hubert.

K.Jn. H

Ow goes the day with us? oh, tell me, Hubert. Hub.Badly, I fear; how fares your Majefty? K. John. This fever, that hath troubled me fo long, Lies heavy on me: oh, my heart is fick !›

Enter a Meffenger.

Mef. My Lord, your valiant kinfman, Faulconbridge, Defires your Majefty to leave the field;

And fend him word by me which way you go.

K.Job. Tell him, tow'rd Swinftead, to the abbey there. Mef. Be of good comfort: for the great fupply, That was expected by the Dauphin here, Are wreck'd three nights ago on Godwin-fands. This news was brought to Richard but ev'n now; The French fight coldly, and retire themselves.

K. John. Ah me! this tyrant fever burns me up, And will not let me welcome this good news. Set on tow'rd Swinstead; to my litter ftrait; Weakness poffeffeth me, and I am faint.

Sal.

[Exeunt.

SCENE changes to the French Camp.
Enter Salisbury, Pembroke, and Bigot.

I

Did not think the King fo ftor'd with friends. Pemb. Up once again; put fpirit in the French If they mifcarry, we mifcarry teo.

Sal

Sal. That mif-begotten devil, Faulconbridge,

In fpite of fpite, alone upholds the day.

Pemb. They lay, King John, fore fick, hath left the field,

Enter Melun, wounded.

Melun. Lead me to the revolts of England here.
Sal. When we were happy, we had other names.
Pemb. It is the Count Melun.

Sal. Wounded to death.

Melun. Fly, noble English, you are bought and fold; Untread the rude way of rebellion, (29) And welcome home again difçarded faith. Seek out King John, and fall before his feet: For if the French be Lords of this loud day, He means to recompence the pains you take, By cutting off your heads; thus hath he fworn, And I with him, and many more with me, Upon the altar at St. Edmondsbury;

Ev'n on that altar, where we fwore to you

(29) Unthread the rude eye of rebellion,] Tho' all the copies con cur in this reading, how poor is the metaphor, of untbreading the eye: of a needle? And, befides, as there is no mention made of a needle, how remote and obfcure is the allufion without it? The text, as I have reftor'd it, is eafy and natural; and it is 'the mode of expreffion, which our Author every where fond of, to tread and untread, the way, path, fteps, &c. So Salisbury, fays afterwards in this scene We will untread the feps of damned flight.

Henry VIII.

Richard IL

Say, Wolfey, that once trod the ways

of glory.

But tread the ftranger paths of banishment.

Richard HI.

Go, tread the path that thou shalt ne'er return. Merchant of Venice.

Hamlet.

Where is the horse, that doth untread again
His tedious measures wi'th' unbated fire,
That he did pace them first?

Whilft, like a puft and careless libertine,
Himself the primrose path of dalliance treads.
And in his poem, call'd, Venus and Adonis ;

She treads the paths, that she untreads again.

Dear amity and everlasting love.

Sal. May this be poffible! may this be true! Melun, Have I not hideous death within my view? Retaining but a quantity of life.

Which bleeds away, ev'n as a form of wax

Refolveth from its figure 'gainst the fire?

What in the world fhould make me now deceive,

Since I muft lofe the ufe of all deceit ?

Why should I then be falfe, fince it is true,
That I muft die here, and live hence by truth?
I fay again, if Lewis do win the day,

He is forfworn, if e'er those eyes of yours
Behold another day break in the east:

But ev'n this night, whofe black contagious breath
Already fmoaks about the burning creft

Of the old, feeble, and day-wearied fun,
Ev'n this ill night, your breathing fhall expire;
Paying the fine of rated treachery,

Ev'n with a treacherous fine of all your lives,
If Lewis by your affiftance win the day.
Commend me to one Hubert, with your King,
The love of him, and this refpe&t befides,
(For that my grandfire was an Englishman,)
Awakes my confcience to confefs all this.
In lieu whereof, I pray you, bear me hence
From forth the noile and rumour of the field;
Where I may think the remnant of my thoughts
In peace; and part this body and my foul,
With contemplation, and devout defires.

Sul. We do believe thee, and befhrew my foul
But I do love the favour and the form

Of this moft fair occafion, by the which
We will untread the fteps of damned flight;
And, like a bated and retired flood,

Leaving our rankness and irregular course,

Stoop low within thofe bounds, we have o'er-look'd; And calmly run on in obedience

Ev'n to our ocean, to our great King John.

My arm fhall give thee help to bear thee hence,

For

For I do fee the cruel pangs of death

Right in thine eye.

Away, my friends; new flight;

And happy newnefs, that intends.old right!

[Exeunt, leading off Melun.

SCENE changes to a different part of the French Camp.

Lew.

TH

Enter Lewis, and his Train. 1 10

But ftaid, and made the western welkin blush; HE fun of heav'n, methought, was loth to fet,. When th' English meafur'd backward their own ground. In faint retire: oh, bravely came we off, When with a volley of our needlefs fhot, After fuch bloody toil, we bid good night And wound our tatter'd colours clearly up, Laft in the field, and almost Lords of it!

Enter a Mefenger.

Mef. Where is my Prince, the Dauphin?
Lervis. Here; what news?

Mef. The Count Melun is flain; the English Lords
By his perfuafion are again fall'n off';;

And your fupply, which you have wifh'd fo long,
Are caft away, and funk on Godwin fands.

Lewis. Ah foul, fhrewd, news! Befhrew thy very heart,.

I did not think to be fo fad to-night,

As this hath made me, Who was he, that faid,

King John did fly, an hour or two before

The ftumbling night did part our weary powers.
Mef. Who ever spoke it, it is true, my Lord.

Lew. Well; keep good quarter,and good care to-night; The day fhall not be up fo foon as I,

To try the fair adventure of to-morrow.

[Exeunt.

SCENE

SCENE, an open Place in the Neighbourhood of Swinftead Abbey.

Hu.

Enter Faulconbridge, and Hubert, Severally.

WE

Ho's there? fpeak,ho! fpeak quickly, or I shoot.
Faule A friend. What art thou?

Hub. Of the part of England.

Faulc. And whither doft thou go?
Hub. What's that to thee?

Why may not I demand of thine affairs,
As well as thou of mine?

Faulc. Hubert, I think.

Hub. Thou haft a perfect thought: I will upon all hazards well believe

Thou art my friend, that know'ft my tongue so well: Who art thou?

Faulc. Who thou wilt and, if thou please, Thou may'st be-friend me so much, as to think, I come one way of the Plantagenets!

Hub.Unkind remembrance! thou and eyelefs night (30) Have done me fhame; brave foldier, pardon me, That any accent, breaking from thy tongue, Should 'fcape the true acquaintance of mine ear. Faulc. Come, come; fans complement; what news abroad? Hub. Why here walk I, in the black brow of night, To find you out.

Faulc. Brief then: and what's the news?

Hub. O my fweet Sir, news fitting to the night;. Black, fearful, comfortlefs, and horrible.

Faulc. Shew me the very wound of this ill news, I am no woman, I'll not fwoon at it.

Hub. The King, I fear, is poison'd by a Monk:

(30) Unkind remembrance; thou and endless night.

Have done me shame: -] Why, endless night? Hubert means no more, than that the dulnefs of his recollection, and the darkness of the night, had difgraced him in his not knowing Faulconbridge by the tone of his voice. Our Author certainly wrote, eye lefs. Mr. Warburton likewife concurr'd in starting this emendation.