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Some gentle order, and we shall be blest
Pand. All form is formless, order orderless,
K. Philip. I may dis-join my hand, but not my faith.
Pand. So mak'st thou faith an enemy to faith ;
And better conquest never canst thou make,
Auft. Rebellion, flat rebellion.
Faulo. Will't not be ?
Lewis. Father, to arms.
Blanch. Upon thy wedding day?
Conft. O, upon my knee,
Blanch. Now thall I see thy love; what motive may
Conft. That wach upholdeth him, that thee upholds, His honour. On, shine honour, Lewis, thine honour !
Lewis. I mites your Majesty doch seem so cold,
Pand. I will denounce a curse upon his head ?
Is it, as he will ? well then, France thall rue.
Blanch. The sun's o'ercast with blood : fair day, adieu ! Which is the side that I must go withal ? I am with both, each
hath a hand,
Lewis. Lady, with me, with me thy fortune lies.
life dies: K. John. Cousin, go draw our puiffance together.
[Exit Faulconbridge. France, I am burn'd up with inflaming wrath, A rage, whose heat hath this condition; That nothing can allay, nothing but blood, The blood, and dearest-valu'd blood of France.
K. Ph. Thy rage shall burn thee up, and thou shalt turn Toʻashes,' ere our blood shall quench that fire: Look to thyself, thou art in jeopardy. K. John. No more, than he that threats. To armslet's hie.
[Exeunt. SCENE changes to a Field of battle. Alarms, Excursions : Enter Faulconbridge, with Auftria's
bead. Faulc. OW, by my life, this day grows wond'rous
hot (17) ;
it grows wond'rous bor; Some airy Devil bovers in the sky.] I have, by Mr. Warburton's direction, vencu:'d to substitute, fiery Devil. It is a very unconclusive inference, sure, that, because it grew wond'rous hot, some airy Devil hovered in the sky. It is a sort of reasoning, that carr es an air of ridicule; unless we could determine, that the Poet means no more by the epithét than to express the Sacred Text, in which the Devil is filed the Prince of the Air. VOL. III. R
Some fiery devil hovers in the sky,
Enter King John, Arthur, and Hubert.
Faulc. My Lord, I rescu'd her: Her Highness is in safety, fear you not. But on, my Liege; for very little pains Will bring this labour to an happy end. (Exeunt. Alarms, Excursions, Retreat. Re-enter King John, Elinor,
Arthur, Faulconbridge, Hubert, and Lords. K. John. So fhall it be; your Grace shall stay behind So strongly guarded : Cousin, look not fad, [To Arthur. Thy grandam loves thee, and thy uncle will As dear be to thee, as thy father was.
Arth. O, this will make my mother die with grief. K. John. Cousin, away for England; bafte before,
[To Faulc. And, ere our coming, fee thou shake the bags Of hoarding Abbots; their imprisoned angels Set thou at liberty : the fat ribs of Peace (18) Must by the hungry war be fed upon. Use our commiffion in its utmoft force.
Faulc. Bell, book, and candle, shall not drive me back When gold and silver beck me to come on. I leave your Highness : Grandam, I will pray,
the fat ribs of Peace Mufby the bungry now be fed upon.] This word now seems a very idle term here, and conveys no satisfactory idea, An Antithesis and oppofition of terms, so perpetual with our Author, requiress
Must by the bungry war be fed upon. War, demanding a large expence, is very poetically said to he bungry, and to prey on ihe wealth and far of Peace,
Mr, Warburton. Sound on into the drowsy race of night;} I do not think, that found on gives here that idea of folemnity and horror, which, 'tis plain, our Poet intended to impress by this fine description; and which my emendation conveys. i.e. If it were the ftill part of the night or one of the clock in the morning, when the sound of the bull Atrikes upon the ear with moft awe and terror, And it is very usual with our Shakespeare in other passages to express the horror of a mida night bell. So, in Oibello; Silence that dreadful bell, it frights the illc,
(If ever I remember to be holy)
Eli. Farewel, my gentle coulin.
(Exit Faule. Eli. Come hither, little kinsman ;-hark, a word.
[Taking him to ore fide of the Stage. K. John.
(to Hubert on the other side.]
Hub. I am much bounden to your Majesty.
K.John. Good friend, thou hast no cause to say so yet,But thou shalt have and creep time ne'er so flow, Yet it shall come for me to do thee good. I had a thing to say--but, let it go : The sun is in the heav'n, and the proud day, Attended with the pleasures of the world, Is all too wanton, and too full of gawds, To give me audience. If the midnight bell (19)
Did (19) If tbe midnight bell
Did with bis iron tongue, and brazen mouth,
what's the business,