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Faulc. What words are these? how do my finews shake! My father's foe clad in my father's spoil!


beginning of the 2d aft, the Dauphin, speaking of Austria to young Aribur, says;

Richard, that robb’d the lion of bis beart,
And fougbetbe bely wars in Palestine,

By itis brave Duke came early to bis grave.
To which A-bur replies;

God mall forgive you Cæ's Deatb,

Tbi rarber, ibat you give bis Offspring Life ; Is not this a fufficient ground for Faulconbridge's quarrel to Austria: It may be objected, Faulcorbridge is not present to hear this. But, what if he be not? So the audience be inform'd duly of the cis. cumstance, the fact was too notorious to suppose Faulconbridge did not know of it. The ground of his quarrel, therefore, is fairly impied in that knowledge: And the Poet's art, perhaps, better shewn, (if we were to contend that point,) to let the information come from any other mouth than that of Faulconbridge. But then co a second material point. Tbe story is, (subjoins the Editor) ibat Auftria, who kill'd King Richard Caur-de-lion, wore, as the speil of ibat Prince, a lion's bide which bad belonged to bim: This circumftance renders the anger of tbe Bastard very natural: and ougbt not 10 bave been omitted. But is it omitted 'Or, clse, 'tis but begging the queft:on. In the 3d act, when Lady Constance perceives that Aufirie has abandoned her interest, she says 10 him ;

O Lymozes ! 0 Austria ! tbou dost mame
That bloody spoil.
Thou wear a lion' hide ! doff it, for fame;

And bang a calf's skin on those recreant limbs.
Now Faulconb.idge is present here, ard lees Austria thus habited. But
before, in the 2d eet, where Faulçonbridge begins to quarrel with
Auftria, let us attend to their dialogue,

Auft, Wbat the devil art thou ?
Faalc. One that will play the devil, Sir, with you,

An' be may catch your hide and you alone.
You are the bare, of whom the proverb goes,
Wbose valour plucks dead lions by obe beard,

I'll smoak your skin coat, an' I catch you right; But may it not here again be objected, that though Faulconbridge law Auftria clad in a lon's hide; ye, he mighé not know it to be the very hide, which was worn by King Richard his father? But to put that point out of all doubt, let us only hear what Lady Blanch imme, diately replies ;

0, well did he become that lion's hide,
Tbat did difrobe ibe lion of that rebe.

How doth Ale&to whisper in mine ears,
“ Delay not, Richard, kill the villain strait;
66 Disrobe him of the matchless monument,
“ Thy father's triumph o'er the savages
Now by his foul I swear, my father's foul,
Twice will I not review the morning's rise,
Till I have torn that trophy from thy back;
Ard split thy heart, for wearing it so long.

K. John. We like not this, thou doft forget thyself.


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Enter Pandulph.
K. Philip. Here comes the holy legate of the Pope

Pand. Hail, you anointed deputies of heav'n!
To thee, King John, my holy errand is
I Pandulph, of fair Milain Cardinal,
And from Pope Innocent the Legate here,
Do in his name religiously demand
Why thou against the church, our holy mother,
So wilfully doft spurn, and force perforce
Keep Stephen Langton, chosen archbishop
Of Canturbury, from that holy See ?
This in our foresaid holy father's name,
Pope Innocent, I do demand of thee.

K. John. What earthly name to interrogatories
Can task the free breath of a sacred King?
Thou canst not, Cardinal, devise a name
So flight, unworthy, and ridiculous,
To charge me to an answer, as the Pope.
Tell him this tale, and from the mouth of England
Add thus much more, that no Italian priest
Shall tithe or toll in our dominions :
But as we under heav'n are supreme head,
So, under him, that great fupremacy,
Where we do reign, we will alone uphold;

I submit it therefore, whether these lines have not been inserted, Father arbitrarily, than necessarily. Upon the whole, as Mr. Pope has generally been unfortunate in his criticisins; so he is no less up. happy in his diligcace, when he would aim at giving a reason what he does.


With th' affittance of a mortal hand.
So tell the Pope, al rev’rence set apart
To him and his ufurp'd authority.

K. Philip. Brother of England, you blaspheme in this.

K. Jobn. Tho' you, and all the Kings of Christendom Are led to grofy by this medling priest, Dreading the curse, that money may buy out ; And by the merit of vile gold, dross, duft, Purchase corrupted pardon of a man, Who in that fale sells pardon from himself: Tho' you, and all the rest, so grofty led, This jugling witch-craft with revenue cherish ; Yet I alone, alone, do me oppose Againft the Pope, and count his friends


Pand. Then by the lawful power that I have,
Thou shalt fand curst, and excommunicate;
And blessed shall he be, that doth revolt
From his allegiance to an heretick;
And meritorious shall that hand be call'd,
Canonized, and worship'd as a faint
That takes away by any fecret course
Thy hateful life.

Conft. O, lawful let it be (15),
That I have room with Rome to curse a while.
Good father Cardinal, cry thou, Amen,

keen curses ; for without my wrong
There is no tongue hath power to corse him right.

Pand. There's law, and warrant, Lady, for my curse

Conft. And for mine too; when law can do no right, Let it be lawful that law bar no wrong:

(15) 0, lawful let it be,

Tbai I bave leave witb Rome to curse a tubile ;? Mr. Pope, in the nicety of his ear, has, againft the authority of all the copies, displaced a jingle here; (which I have made bold to refore to the text,) thi' it is obvious to every knowing reader, how customary it is with our Poet, in a thousand instances, to play on words 6milar in found, and differing in fignification. He repeats the very same conundrum on the two words now before us, in Juliet Cafur.

Now is it Rome indeed ; and room enough,
When there is in it but onc only pan.


Law cannot give my child his kingdom here ;
For he, that holds his kingdom, holds the law;
Therefore since law itfelf is perfect wrong,
How can the law forbid my tongue to curse?

Pand. Philip of France, on peril of a curse,
Let go the hand of that arch-heretick;

raise the pow'r of France upon his head, Unless he do submit himself to Rome.

Eli. Look'st thou pale, France? do not let go thy handa

Conft. Look to that, devil! left that France repent,
And, by disjoining hands, hell lose a soul.

Auft. King Philip, listen to the Cardinal.
Faulc. And hang a calve's-skin on his recreant limbs,

Auft. Well, ruffian, I must pocket up these wrongs,
Faulc. Your breeches beft

may carry them.
k. John, Philip, what fay'st thou to the Cardinal ?
Const. What should he fay, but as the Cardinal ?

Lewis. Bethink you, father ; for the difference
Is purchace of a heavy curse from Rome,
Or the light loss of England for a friend;
Forgo the easier.

Blanch. That's the curse of Rome.

Conf. Lewis, ftand faft; the devil tempts thee here (16) In likeness of a new and trimmed bride.

Blanch. The lady Constance speaks nor from her faith : But from her need.


the devil tempis ibee bere In likeness of a new untrimmed bride.] Tho' all the copies concur in this reading, yet as urtrimmed cannot bear any signification to square with the se: se requied, I cannot help thinking it a corrupied-reading. It might, indeed, admit of this explanation, un. dress’d, ready to-go 10 bed: but then that is giving in to an allufion too gross for Lady Confiance. I have ventured to throw out the aega. tive, and read;

In likeness of a new and trimmed bride. i, e, of a new bride ; and on: deck'd and adorn'd as well by art as nature. Or we might read, but it departs a little wider from the traces of the text as we find it;

In likeness of a new betrimmed bride. But the first conje&ture answers the sense and purpose of the speaker; and requires but a very light variation. 6


Conf. Oh, if thou grant my need,
Which only lives but by the death of faith,
That need 'must needs infer this principle,
That faith would live again by death of need :
O, then tread down my need, and faith mounts up :
Keep my need up, and faith is trodden down.

K. John. The king is mov'd, and answers not to thisi,
Conft. O, be remov'd from him, and answer well.
Auft. Do fo, King Philip; hang no more in doubt.
Faulc. Hang nothing but a calve’s-skin, most sweet loute
K. Philip. I am perplext, and know not what to say.

Pand. What can'h thou say, but will perplex thee more, If thou stand excommunicate and curft ?

K. Philip. Good rev'rend father, make my person yours;
And tell me, how you would bestow yourself.
This royal hand and mine are newly knit,
And the conjunction of our inward souls
Marry'd in leagae, coupled and link'd together
With all religious strength of sacred vows :
The latest breath, that

the sound of words,
Was deep-sworn faith, peace, amity, true love
Between our kingdoms, and our royal selves.
And ev’n before this truce, but new before,
No longer than we well could wash our hands
To clap this royal bargain up of peace,
Heav'n knows, they were besmear'd and over-stain'd
With slaughter's pencil ; where revenge did paint
The fearful diff'rence of incensed Kings.
And shall these hands, fo lately purg'd of blood,
So newly join'd in love so strong in both,
Unyoke this seisure, and this kind regreet ?
Play fast and loose with faith ? so jest with heav'n,
Make such unconstant children of ourselves,
As now again to snatch our palm from palm ?
Un-swear faith fworn, and on the marriage-bed
Of smiling peace to march a bloody hoft,
And make a riot on the gentle brow
Of true fincerity ? O holy Sir,
My reverend father, let it not be fo;
Out of your grace, devise, ordain, impose



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