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Some gentle order, and we shall be blest
To do your pleasure, and continue friends.

Pand. All form is formless, order orderless,
Save what is opposite to England's love.
Therefore, to arms! be champion of our church!
Or let the church our mother breathe her curse,
A mother's curse on her revolting son.
France, thou may't hold a serpent by the tongue,
A chafed lion by the mortal paw,
A fafting tyger safer by the tooth,
Than keep in peace that hand, which thou dost hold.

K. Philip. I may dis-join my hand, but not my faith.

Pand. So mak'st thou faith an enemy to faith ;
And like a civil war, set'st oath to oath,
Thy tongue against thy tongue. O, let thy vow
Firít made to heav'n, first be to heav'n perform’d;
That is, to be the champion of our church.
What since thou swor'ft, is sworn against thyself;
And may not be performed by thyself.
For that, which thou hast sworn to do amiss,
Is not amiss, when it is truly done :
And being not done, where doing tends to ill,
The truth is then most done, not doing ito
The better act of purposes mistook
Is to mistake again ; tho' indirect,
Yet indirection thereby grows direct,
And fallhood falfhood cures ; as fire cools fire,
Within the scorched veins of one new-burn'd.
It is religion that doth vows kept,
But thou haft sworn against religion :
By what thou swear?ft, against the thing thou swear'f:
And mak'st an oath the surety for thy truth,
Against an oath the truth thou art unsure
To swear, swear only not to be forsworn,
Else what a mockery should it be to sweat ?
But thou doft swear, only to be forsworn,
And most forsworn, to keep what thou doft swear.
Therefore thy latter vows, against thy firit,
Is in thyself rebellion to thyself.


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And better conquest never canst thou make,
Than arm thy constant and thy nobler parts
Against these giddy, loose suggestions ;
Upon which better part, our pray’rs come in,
If thoa vouchsafe them. But if not, then know,
The peril of our curses light on thee
So heavy, as thou thalt not shake them off;
But, in despair, die under their black weight.

Auft. Rebellion, flat rebellion.

Faulo. Will't not be ?
Will not a calve's. skin stop that mouth of thine:

Lewis. Father, to arms.

Blanch. Upon thy wedding day?
Against the blood that thou hast married ?
What, thall our feast be kept with Naughter'd men?
Shall braying trumpets, and loud churlifh drums,
Clamours of hell, be measures to our pomp?
O husband, hear me : (ay, alack, how new
Is husband in my mouth ?) ev'n for that name,
Which till this time my tongue did ne'er pronounce
Upon my knee I beg, go not to arms
Againit mine uncle

Conft. O, upon my knee,
Made hard with kneeling, I do pray to thee,
Thou virtuous Douphin, alter not the doom
Forethought by heav'n.

Blanch. Now thall I see thy love; what motive may
Be stronger with thee than the name of wise ?

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,
When such protocri respects do pull you on?

Pand. I will denounce a curse upon his head ?
K. Philip. Thou alt cot need. England, I'll fall

from thee,
Cont. O fair turn of banih'd Majesty!
El. foui revolt of French'inconstancy!
K11 France, thou shalt rue this hour within this hour.
24. Old Time incClock-fetter, that bal} Sexton Tise.

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,
And in their rage, I having hold of both,
They whirl asunder, and dismember me.
Husband, I cannot pray that thou may’ft win :
Uncle, I needs must pray that thou may'st loose ;
Father, I may not wish the fortune thine:
Grandam, I will not wish thy wishes thrive :
Whoever wins, on that fide shall I lose :
Assured 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. 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

Faule. N°

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,
And pours down mischief. Auflria's head lie there..
'Thus hath King Richard's fon perform’d his vow,
And offer'd Auftria's blood for sacrifice
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 afiailed in our tent,
And ta'en, 1 fear.

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)
For your fair safety; so I kiss your hand.

Eli. Farewel, my gentle coulin.
K. John Coz, farewel.

(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.]
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 bosom, 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 alham'd
To say what good respect I have of thee.

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,
That such an bideous trumpet calls to farley
The peepers of the house?


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