Is it, as he will? well then, France fhall rue.

Blanch. The fun's o'ercaft with blood: fair day, adieu ! Which is the fide that I muft go withal?

I am with both, each army hath a hand,
And in their rage, I having hold of both,
They whirl afunder, and difmember me.
Husband, I cannot pray that thou may'ft win :
Uncle, I needs muft pray that thou may'ft loose :
Father, I may not with the fortune thine:
Grandam, I will not wish thy wishes thrive :
Whoever wins, on that fide fhall I lofe :
Affured lofs, before the match be play'd.

Lewis. Lady, with me, with me thy fortune lies.
Blan. There where my fortune lives, there my life dies.
K. John. Coufin, go draw our puiffance together.

[Exit Faulconbridge. France, I am burn'd up with inflaming wrath, A rage, whofe 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 To afhes, ere our blood fhall quench that fire:

Look to thyself, thou art in jeopardy.

K. John. No more, than he that threats. let's hie.

To arms

[Exeunt.

SCENE changes to a Field of battle.

Alarms, Excurfions: Enter Faulconbridge, with Auftria's

Faulc.

(17)

bead.

TOW, by my life, this day grows wond'rous hot (17);

N

-it grows wondrous bet;

Some airy Devil bovers in the fky.] I have, by Mr. Warburton's direction, ventu:'d to fubftitute, fiery Devil. It is a very unconclufive inference, fure, that, because it grew wond'rous hot, fome airy Devil hovered in the fky. It is a fort of reafoning, that carr es an air of ridicule; unless we could determine, that the Poet meant no more by the epithet than to exprefs the Sacred Text, in which the Devil is ftiled the Prince of the Air.

VOL. III.

R

Some

Some fiery devil hovers in the sky,

And pours down mifchief. Auftria's head lie there.-
Thus hath King Richard's fon perform'd his vow,
And offer'd Auftria's blood for facrifice

Unto his father's ever-living foul.

Enter King John, Arthur, and Hubert. K.John. There, Hubert, keep this boy. Richard, make up; My mother is affailed in our tent,

And ta'en, 1 fear.

Faulc. My Lord, I refcu'd her:

Her Highness is in fafety, fear you not.
But on, my Liege; for very little pains
Will bring this labour to an happy end.

[Exeunt.

Alarms, Excurfions, Retreat. Re-enter King John, Elinor, Arthur, Faulconbridge, Hubert, and Lords.

K. John. So fhall it be; your Grace fhall stay behind So ftrongly guarded: Coufin, 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. Coufin, away for England; hafte before,
[To Faulc.

And, ere our coming, fee thou fhake the bags
Of hoarding Abbots; their imprifoned angels
Set thou at liberty: the fat ribs of Peace (18)
Muft by the hungry war be fed upon.

Use our commiffion in its utmoft force.

Faulc. Bell, book, and candle, fhall not drive me back When gold and filver beck me to come on.

I leave your Highnefs: Grandam, I will pray,

(18)

the fat ribs of Peace

Muft by the bungry now be fed upon.] This word now seems a very idle term here, and conveys no fatisfactory idea. An Antithefis and oppofition of terms, fo perpetual with our Author, requires, Muft by the bungry war be fed upon.

War, demanding a large expence, is very poetically said to be hungry, and to prey on the wealth and fat of Peace. Mr. Warburton.

(If ever I remember to be holy)

For your fair fafety; fo I kifs your hand.
Eli. Farewel, my gentle coufin.

K. John. Coz, farewel.

[Exit Faule.

Eli. Come hither, little kinfman ;-hark, a word.
[Taking him to one fide of the Stage.
K. John.
[to Hubert on the other fide.]
Come hither, Hubert. O my gentle Hubert,
We owe thee much; within this wall of flesh
There is a foul counts thee her creditor,
And with advantage means to pay thy love:
And, my good friend, thy voluntary oath
Lives in this bofom, dearly cherished.
Give me thy hand, I had a thing to say -
But I will fit it with some better time.
By heaven, Hubert, I'm almost asham'd
To fay what good refpect I have of thee.
Hub. I am much bounden to your Majefty.
K.John. Good friend, thou haft no caufe to fay fo yet,
But thou shalt have-and creep time ne'er fo flow,
Yet it shall come for me to do thee good.

I had a thing to fay-but, let it go:
The fun is in the heav'n, and the proud day,
Attended with the pleafures of the world,
Is all too wanton, and too full of gawds,
To give me audience. If the midnight bell (19)

(19)

If the midnight bell

Did with bis iron tongue, and brazen mouth,

Did

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 imprefs by this fine defeription; 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 found of the b:11 Atrikes upon the ear with most awe and terror. And it is very ufual with our Shakespeare in other paffages to exprefs the horror of a midnight bell.

Did with his iron tongue and brazen mouth
Sound one unto the drowsy race of night;
If this fame were a church-yard where we ftand,
And thou poffeffed with a thoufand wrongs;
Or if that furly fpirit melancholy

Had bak'd thy blood and made it heavy-thick,
Which elfe runs tickling up and down the veins,
Making that ideot laughter keep mens eyes,
And ftrain their cheeks to idle merriment;
(A paffion hateful to my purposes)

Or if that thou could'ft fee me without eyes,
Hear me without thine ears, and make reply
Without a tongue, ufing conceit alone,
Without eyes, ears, and harmful found of words;
Then, in defpight of broad-ey'd watchful day,
I would into thy bofom pour my thoughts:
But ah, I will not-yet I love thee well;
And, by my troth, I think, thou lov'ft ine well.
Hub. So well, that what you hid me undertake,
Tho' that my death were adjunct to my act,
By heav'n, I'd do't.

K. John. Do not I know, thou would'ft?
Good Hubert, Hubert, Hubert, throw thine eye
On yon young boy: I'll tell thee what, my friend:
He is a very ferpent in my way,

And, wherefoe'er this foot of mine doth tread,
He lies before me. Doft thou understand me?

Thou art his keeper.

Hub. And I'll keep him fo,

That he fhall not offend your Majesty.

K. John. Death.

Hub. My Lord?

K. John. A grave.

Hub. He fhall not live.

K. John. Enough.

And fometimes, for the more folemnity, he is used to add the cis

cumftance of the particular hour.

The iron tongue of midnight hath toll'd twelve.

The bell then beating one.

Midfum, Night's Dream.

Hamlet.

I could be merry now. Hubert, I love thee;
Well, I'll not fay what I intend for thee:
Madam, fare you well.

Remember:

[Returning to the Queen.

I'll fend those pow'rs o'er to your Majesty.
Eli. My bleffing go with thee!

K. John. For England, coufin, go.
Hubert fhall be your man, t' attend on you
With all true duty; on, toward Calais, ho!

[Exeunt.

SCENE changes to the French Court.

Enter King Philip, Lewis, Pandulpho, and Attendants.'

K. Philip.

A whole Armado of collected fail
O, by a roaring tempeft on the flood,

SÅ

Is fcatter'd and disjoin'd from fellowship.

Pand. Courage and comfort, all shall yet go well.

K. Philip. What can go well, when we have run fo ill? Are we not beaten? Is not Angiers loft?

Arthur ta'en pris'ner? divers dear friends flain?
And bloody England into England gone,
O'er-bearing interruption, fpite of France?

Lewis. What he hath won, that hath he fortify'd:

So hot a speed with fuch advice difpos'd
Such temp'rate order in fo fierce a cause,

Doth want example; who hath read, or heard,
Of any kindred action like to this?

K. Phil. Well could I bear that England had this praise, So we could find some pattern of our fhame.

Enter Conftance.

Look, who comes here? a grave unto a foul,
Holding th' eternal spirit 'gainft her will
In the vile prison of afflicted breath;
I pr'ythee, Lady, go away with me.
Conft. Lo, now, now fee the issue of

your peace.
K. Ph. Patience, good Lady; comfort, gentle Conftance.
Confi. No, I defy all counfel, all redrefs,

R 3

But