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Enter King John, King Philip, Lewis, Blanch, Elinor,

Faulconbridge, and Austria. K.Phil

. 'Tis true, fair daughter ; and this blessed day Ever in France shall be kept festival : To folemnize this day, the glorious Sun Stays in his course, and plays the Alchymist; Turning with fplendour of his precious eye The meagre cloddy earth to glitt'ring gold. The yearly course, that brings this day, about, Shall never fee it, but a holy-day.

Conft. A wicked day, and not an holy-day:-[Rifing What hath this day deserv'd ? what hath it done, That it in golden letters should be set Among the high tides in the kalendar ? Nay, rather turn this day out of the week, This day of fame, oppression, perjury : Or, if it must stand still, let wives with child Pray, that their burdens may not fall this day,. Lest that their hopes prodigiously be croft : But, on this day, let seamen 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 fallhood change !

K. Philip. By heaven, Lady, you shall have no cause: To corse the fair proceedings of this day : Have I not pawn'd to you my Majefty ?

Conft. You have beguil'd me with a counterfeit Resembling Majesty, which, touch'd and try'd, Proves valueless: you are forsworn, forsworn.. You came in arms to spill my enemies blood, But now in arms, you ftrengihen it with yours. The grapling vigour, and rough frown of war, Is cold in amity and painted peace, And our oppression hath made up this league : Aim, arm, ye Heavn’s, against these perjur'a Kings: 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 Sun-set,


Set armed discord '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: 0. Lymoges, O Aufiria! thou doft Mame That bloody spoil: thou slave,thou wretch; thou coward, Thou l.cule valiant, great in villainy ! Thou ever strong upon the stronger fide; Thou Fortune's champion, that doit never fight But when her humorous Lady ship 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 itamp, and swear, Upon my party ; thou cold-blooded slave, Halt thou not spoke like thunder on my

lide? Been sworn my foldier, bidding me depend, Upon thy fars, thy fortune, and thy firength ? And dos thou now. fall over to my foes. 'Thou wear a lion's hide ! doff it for name, And hang a calve's skin on thoie recreant limbs,

dup. O, that a man would speak those words to me! Faule. And hang a calva's kin, on those recreant

limbs. Auft. Thou dar'ít not say fo, villain, for thy life. Faac. And hang a calvc's kin on those recreant

lim's. Auft. Methinks, that Richard's pride and Richard's

fall (14) Should be a precedent to fright you, Sir..


(14) Auft. Merhinks, thal Richard's pride and Richard's fall). These 12 fubsequent lines Mr. Pope first inserted from the old fetch of this play, call’d, The troublejome Reign of king Vobr, in Two Paris, As the Verses are not bad, I have not cathter'd them i tho' !o not conceive them jo absolutely esintial to clearing up any circumsance of the action, as Mr. Pope seems to imagine. Whate was the ground of this quarrel of the Bastard to Auira (lays that Gentleman) is no wbere specified in the present play; nur is ibere in this place, or the scene where it is forft hinted ah, (namely, the 2d of Act 2) the least mention of any reason for it. This is the Editor's afiertiga., but let us examine, how well it is grounded. In the very

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


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beginning of the 2d 18, the Dauphin, speaking of Austria to
young Arthur, says ;

Richard, ibat robb'd the lion of bis beart,
And fougbi obe holy wars in Palestine,

By ibis brave Duke came early to bis grave.
To which Arıbur replies ;

God shall forgive you Cæur-de-lion's Death,

Tbe rather, ibal you give bis 0f siring Life;
Is not this a fufficient ground for Faulconbridge's quarrel to Au Mris?
It may be objected, Faulconbridge is not present to hear this. But,
what if he be not? So the audience be inform'd duely of the cir:
cumstance, the fact was too notorious to suppose Faulconbridge did
aut know of it. The ground of his quarrel, therefore, is fairly
implied 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
to a seconi material point. The story is, (subjoins the Editor) ibat
Austria, wbo killed King Richard Cour-de-lion, wore, as the spoil of
tbar Prince, a lion's bide wbicb bad belonged to bim: This circumstance
renders the anger of the Bastard very natural: and ought not to bave
been omitted. But is it omitted. Or, elle, 'tis but begging, the
question. In the 3d act, when Lady Constance perceives that Auftria
has abandoned her interest, she says to him ;

O Lymoges ! O Austria I thou dos Mama
That bloody, spoile-
Tbou wear a lion's hide ! dojf it, for fame 3:

And bang a calf's skin on ekose recrcant limbs.
Now Faulconbridge is present here, and fees Auftria thus habited. But
before, in the 21 a£t, where Fauiconbridge begins to quarrel will
sufiria, let us attend to their dialogue.

Auft. Wbucibe devil art thou
Faulo. One that will play the devil, Sir, with you,
An' he


hide ard you alone.
You are the bare, of whom the proverb goes,
Wirose va’our plucks dead lions by the beard,

I'll Smoak your skin coat, an' I catch you right;
But may it not here again he objected, that though Faulconbridge sa
Aufria clad in a lion's bide; ye: he might not know it to be the
very hide, which was worn by King Richard his father ? But to por
that point out of all doubt, let us only hear what Lady Blanib imn...
diately replies ;

0, well did he become that lion's hide,
That did disi-obe the lion of that robe,

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How doth Ale to whisper in my ears,
" Delay not, Richard, kill the villain ftrait;
46 Difrobe him of the matchless monument,
« Thy father's triumph o'er the savages-
Now by his soul I swear, my father's soul,
Twice will l not review the morning's rise,
Till I have torn that trophy from thy back ;
And split thy heart, for wearing it so long.
K. John. We like not this, thou doft forget thyself.

Enwer 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 ;
1 Pandidpb, of fair Milain Cardinal,
And from Pope Innocent the Legate here,
Do in his name religioufly demand
Why thou against the church, our holy mothers,
So wilfully doft spurn, and force perforce
Keep Stephen Langlox chosen archbishop
of Canterbury, from that holy See?
This in our foresaid holy father's name,
PopInnocent, I do demand of thee.

K. John. What earthly namesto interrogatorics
Çan tals the free breath of a sacred King?
Thou canst not. Cardinal, devise a same
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 fubmit it therefore, whether these lines have not been interted,
rather arbitrarily, than necessarily. Upon the whole, as Mr. Pope.
has generally been unfortunate in his criticisms į so he is no less un..
happy in bis diligence, when he would aim at giving a reason for
What he dues.


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Without th'affiftance of a mortal hand.
So tell the Pope, all rev’rence set apart
To him and his ufurp'd authority.

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

K. John. Tho' you, and all the Kings of Christendom
Are led fo grolly by this medling priett,
Dreading the curse, that money may buy out;
And by the merit of vile gold, dress, duft,
Purchase corrupted pardon of a man,
Who in that sale fells pardon from himself:
Tho' you, and all the rest, fo grotly led,
This jugling witch-craft with revenue cherish ;
Yet Ialone, alone, do me oppose
Against the Pope, and count his friends my foes.

Pand. Then hy the lawful power that I have,
Thou shalt stand curft, and excommunicate ;
And blefied shall he be, that doth revoli
From his allegiance to an heretick;
And meretorious Mall that hand be call’d,
Canonized, and worship'd as a saine
That takes away by any secret course
Thy hateful life.

Conf. O, lawful let it be, (15)
That I have room with Rone to curse a while.
Good father Cardinal, cry thou, Amen,
To my keen curses; for without my wrong
There is no tongue hath power to curse him right:

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

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


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cor to 1 Top dri too tiy

05) 0, lunfulld it be

i but I have have witb Rome t? curse a whila;]
Mr. Tape, in the nicery of his ear, bas, against the authority of all
the copies, displaced a jingle here; (which I have made bold an
restore to the text,) tho' it is obvious to every knowing reader,
how customary it is with our Poet, in a thousand instances, to play
on words similar in sound, and differing in fignification. He repcais
the very same conundrum on the two words now before us, in Juius

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




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