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One to be marry'd! gone to swear a peace!

False blood to false blood join'd! gone to

be friends!

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Shall Lewis have Blanch, and Blanch those provinces? It is not fo; thou hast mif-fpoke, mif-heard;

Γ

Be well advis'd, tell o'er thy tale again,

It cannot be; thou doft but fay 'tis fo.
I trust I may not trust thee; for thy word
Is but the vain breath of a common man.

A

Believe me, I do not believe thee, man;
I have a King's oath to the contrary.
Thou shalt be punish'd for thus frighting me;
For I am fick, and capable of fears;
Oppress'd with wrongs, and therefore full of fears;
A widow, hufsbandless, subject to fears;
A woman, naturally born to fears :
And though thou now confess thou didst but jest,
With my vex'd spirits I cannot take a truce;
But they will quake and tremble all this day.
What dost thou mean by shaking of thy head?
Why dost thou look fo fadly on my fon?
What means that hand upon that breast of thine?
Why holds thine eye that lamentable rheum,
Like a proud river peering o'er his bounds?
Be these sad fighs confirmers of thy words?
Then speak again, not all thy former tale,
But this one word, whether thy tale be true.

Sal. As true as, I believe, you think them false,
That give you cause to prove my faying true,
Const. Oh, if thou teach me to believe this forrow.
Teach thou this forrow how to make me die;
And let belief and life encounter fo,
As doth the fury of two desp'rate men,
Which in the very meeting fall and die.
Lewis wed Blanch! O boy, then where art thou?
France friend with England! what becomes of me?

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Fellow,

:

Fellow, be gone, I cannot brook thy fight *.
Arth. I do befeech you, mother, be content.
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"If thou that bid'st me be content, wert

grim,

Ugly, and fland'rous to thy mother's womb, " Full of unpleasing blots, and fightless stains, "Lame, foolish, crooked, fwart, prodigious, "Patch'd with foul moles, and eye-offending marks;

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I would not care; I then would be content. For then I should not love thee: no, nor thou "Become thy great birth, nor deserve a crown. But thou art fair, and at thy birth, dear boy! "Nature and fortune join'd to make thee great. "Of Nature's gifts thou may'st with lilies boast, And with the half-blown rose." But Fortune, oh! She is corrupted, change'd, and, won from thee, Adulterates hourly with thine uncle John; And with her golden hand hath pluck'd on France To tread down fair respect of fovereignty, And made his Majesty the bawd to theirs. France is a bawd to Fortune, and to John: That strumpet Fortune, that ufurping John! Tell me, thou fellow, is not France forsworn? Invenom him with words; or get thee gone, And leave these woes alone, which I alone Am bound to underbear.

Sal. Pardon me, Madam,

:

I may not go without you to the Kings.
Conft. Thou may'st, thou shalt, I will not go with
[thee.

I will instruct my forrows to be proud:
For grief is proud, and makes his owner stout.
To me, and to the state of my great grief,
Let Kings affemble: for my grief's so great,
That no fupporter but the huge firm earth.

*

- brook thy fight.

This news hath made thee a most ugly man.
Sal. What other harm have I, good Lady, done,
But spoke the harm that is by others done?
Conft. Which harm within itself so heinous is,

As it makes harmful all that speak of it,
Arth. I do befeech you, &c.

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[Sits down on the floor.

Can hold it up. Here I and forrow fit.
Here is my throne, bid Kings come bow to it.

SCENE II.

Enter King John, King Philip, Lewis, Blanch, Elinor, Faulconbridge, und Austria.

K. Phil. "Tis true, fair daughter, and this blessed

Ever in France fhall be kept festival.
To folemnize this day, the glorious fun
Stays in his course, and plays the alchymist;
Turning with splendor of his precious eye
The meagre cloudy earth to glitt'ring gold.
The yearly course that brings this day about,
Shall never fee it but a holiday.

[day

Conft. A wicked day, and not an holiday.- [Rifing. What hath this day deserv'd? what hath it done, That it in golden letter should be fet Among the high tides in the kalendar? Nay, rather turn this day out of the week, This day of shame, oppreffion, perjury: Or, if it must stand still, let wives with child Pray, that their burthens may not fall this day, Left that their hopes prodigioufly be crofs'd. But on this day, let feamen fear no wreck; No bargains break, that are not this day made; This day, all things begun come to ill end, Yea, faith itself to hollow falfehood change!

K. Phil. By heaven, Lady, you shall have no cause To curse the fair proceedings of this day, Have I not pawn'd to you my majesty?

Conft. You have beguil'd me with a counterfeit Resembling majesty, which, touch'd and try'd, Proves valueless: you are forfworn, forfworn; You came in arms to spill my enemies blood, But now in arms you strengthen it with your's. The grappling vigour, and rough frown of war, Is cold in amity and painted peace, And our oppreffion hath made up this league. Arm, arm, ye heav'ns, against these perjur'd kings.

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A

A widow cries, be husband to me, heav'n!
Let not the hours of this ungodly day
Wear out the day in peace; but ere fun-fet,
Set armed Difcord 'twixt these perjur'd Kings.
Hear me, oh, hear me!

Auft. Lady Constance, peace.

Conft. War, war, no peace; peace is to me a war.

O Lymoges, O Austria! thou dost shame

That bloody spoil: thou slave, thou wretch, thou cowThou little valiant, great in villany !

[ard,

Thou ever ftrong upon the stronger fide;
Thou Fortune's champion, that doft never fight
But when her humorous Ladyship is by
To teach thee safety! thou art perjur'd too,
And footh'it up greatness. What a fool art thou,
A ramping fool, to brag, to stamp, and swear,
Upon my party? thou cold-blooded flave,
Hast thou not spoke like thunder on my fide?
Been sworn my foldier, bidding me depend
Upon thy stars, thy fortune, and thy strength?
And dost thou now fall over to my foes?
Thou wear a lion's hide! doff it for shame,
And hang a calve's-skin on those recreant limbs.
Auft. O that a man would speak those words to me!
Faule. And hang a calve's-skin on those recreant

limbs.

1

Auft. Thou dar'st not say so, villain, for thy life. : Faulc. And hang a calve's-skin on those recreant

limbs.

Auft. * Methinks that Richard's pride, and Richard's fall

• Should be a precedent to fright you, Sir.

:

* What was the ground of this quarrel of the bastard to Austria, is no where specified in the present play: nor is there in this place, or the scene where it is first hinted at (namely the second of act 2.) the leaft mention of any reason for it. But the ftory is, that Auftria, who kill'd King Richard Cœur de lion, wore, as the spoil of that Princefa lion's hide which had belonged to him. This circumftance renders the anger of the bastard very natural, and ought not to have been omitico. In the first fketch of this play, (which Shakespeare is faid to have had a hand in, jointly with Wm. Rowley), we accordingly find this infifted upon, and I have ventured to place a few of those verfes here. Mr. Pope.

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Faulc. What words are these? how do my finews • My father's foe clad in my father's spoil! • How doth Alecto whisper in my ears, Delay not, Richard, kill the villain strait; Difrobe him of the matchless monument. Thy father's triumph o'er the favages. Now, by this foul I swear, my father's foul, Twice will I not review the morning's rife, • Till I have torn that trophy from thy back; • And split thy heart for wearing it fo long.

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

SCENE III. Enter Pandulph.

K. Phil, Here comes the holy Legate of the pope.
Pand. Hail, you anointed deputies of heaven!

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 dost spurn, and force perforce
Keep Stephen Langton, chofen Archbishop
Of Canterbury, from that holy fee?
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 facred King?
Thou canst not, Cardinal, devise a name
So flight, unworthy, and ridiculous,
To charge me to an anfwer, 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 fupreme head,
So, under him, that great fupremacy,
Where we do reign, we will alone uphold,
Without th' assistance of a mortal hand.
So tell the Pope, all rev'rence set apart
To him and his ufurp'd authority.

K. Phil. Brother of England, you blafpheme in this.
K. John. Thơ you and all the Kings of Christendon

Are led fo grossly by this meddling prieft,
VOL. III.

Sf

Dreading

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