Law cannot give my child his kingdom here;
For he, that holds his kingdom, holds the law;
Therefore fince law itfelf is perfect wrong,
How can the law forbid my tongue to curfe?
Pand. Philip of France, on peril of a curfe,
Let go the hand of that arch-heretick;
And raise the pow'r of France upon his head,
Unlefs he do fubmit himself to Rome.

Eli. Look'st thou pale, France? do not let go thy hand. Conft. Look to that, devil! left that France repent, And, by disjoining hands, hell lofe a foul.

Auft. King Philip, liften to the Cardinal.

Faulc. And hang a calve's-fkin on his recreant limbs. Auft. Well, ruffian, I muft pocket up thefe wrongs, Becaufe

Faulc. Your breeches beft may carry them.

K. John. Philip, what fay'it thou to the Cardinal?
Conft. What fhould he fay, but as the Cardinal ?
Lewis. Bethink you, father; for the difference
Is purchace of a heavy curfe from Rome,

Or the light lofs of England for a friend;
Forgo the easier.

Blanch. That's the curfe of Rome,

Conft. Lewis, ftand faft; the devil tempts thee here(16) In likeness of a new and trimmed bride.

Blanch. The lady Conftance speaks not from her faith: But from her need.

(16)

the devil tempts thec-bere

In likeness of a new untrimmed bride.] Tho' all the copies concur in this reading, yet as untrimmed cannot bear any fignification to fquare with the fenfe required, I cannot help thinking it a corrupted reading. It might, indeed, admit of this explanation, undrefs'd, ready to go to bed: but then that is giving in to an allufion too grois for Lady Conftance. I have ventur'd to throw out the negative, and read;

nature.

In likeness of a net and trimmed bride.

i. e. of a new bride; and one deck'd and adorn'd as well by art as Or we might read; but it departs a little wider from the traces of the text as we find it;

In likeness of a nero betrimmed bride.

But the first conjecture anfwers the fenfe and purpose of the speaker; and requires but a very flight variation.

Conft.

Conft. Oh, if thou grant my need, Which only lives but by the death of faith, That need muft needs infer this principle, That faith would live again by death of need: O, then tread down my need, and faith mounts up: Keep my need up, and faith is trodden down.

K. John. The king is mov'd, and answers not to this. Conft. O, be remov'd from him, and anfwer well. Auft. Do fo, King Philip; hang no more in doubt. Faule. Hang nothing but a calve's-fkin, moft fweet lout. K. Philip. I am perplext, and know not what to say. Pand. What can't thou fay, but will perplex thee more, If thou ftand excommunicate and curst?

K. Philip. Good rev'rend father, make my perfon yours
And tell me, how you would bestow yourself.
This royal hand and mine are newly knit,
And the conjunction of our inward fouls
Marry'd in league, coupled and link'd together
With all religious ftrength of facred vows:
The latest breath, that gave the found of words,
Was deep-fworn faith, peace, amity, true love
Between our kingdoms, and our royal felves.
And ev'n before this truce, but new before,
No longer than we well could wash our hands
To clap this royal bargain up of peace,

Heav'n knows, they were befmear'd and over-stain’d
With flaughter's pencil; where revenge did paint
The fearful diffrence of incenfed Kings.
And fhall thefe hands, fo lately purg'd of blood,
Só newly join'd in love fo ftrong in both,
Unyoke this feifure, and this kind règreet?
Play faft and loofe with faith? fo jeft with heav'n,
Make fuch unconftant children of ourselves,
As now again to fnatch our palm from palm ?
Un-fwear faith fworn, and on the marriage-bed
Of fmiling peace to march a bloody hoft,
And make a riot on the gentle brow

Of true fincerity holy Sir,
My reverend father, let it not be fo;
Out of your grace, devife, ordain, impofe

Some

Some gentle order, and we shall be bleft
To do your pleasure, and continue friends.
Pand. All form is formlefs, order orderless,
Save what is oppofite to England's love.

Therefore, to arms! be champion of our church!
Or let the church our mother breathe her curse,
A mother's curfe on her revolting fon.

France, thou may'ft hold a ferpent by the tongue,
A chafed lion by the mortal paw,

A fafting tyger fafer by the tooth,

Than keep in peace that hand, which thou dost hold.
K. Philip. I may dif-join my hand, but not my faith.
Pand. So mak'ft thou faith an enemy to faith;
And, like a civil war, fet'ft oath to oath,

Thy tongue againft thy tongue. O, let thy vow
Firit made to heav'n, firft be to heav'n perform'd s
That is, to be the champion of our church.
What fince thou fwor'ft, is fworn against thyfelf;
And may not be performed by thyself.
For that, which thou haft fworn to do amifs,
Is not amifs, when it is truly done:

And being not done, where doing tends to ill,
The truth is then moft done, not doing it.
The better act of purposes miftook

Is to mistake again; tho' indirect,
Yet indirection thereby grows direct,

And falfhood falfhood cures, as fire cools fire,
Within the fcorched veins of one new-burn'd.

It is religion that doth make vows kept,
But thou haft fworn against religion:

By what thou fwear'ft, against the thing thou fwear'st:
And mak'ft an oath the furety for thy truth,

Against an oath the truth thou art unfure
To fwear, fwear only not to be forsworn,
Elfe what a mockery fhould it be to fwear?
But thou doft fwear, only to be forfworn,
And most for worn, to keep what thou doft fwear.
Therefore thy latter vows, against thy first,
Is in thyself rebellion to thyfelf.

And

And better conqueft never canft thou make,
Than arm thy conftant and thy nobler parts
Against thefe giddy, loofe fuggeftions;
Upon which better part, our pray'rs come in,
If thou vouchsafe them. But if not, then know,
The peril of our curfes light on thee

So heavy, as thou shalt not shake them off;
But, in defpair, die under their black weight.
Auft. Rebellion, flat rebellion.

Faulc. 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 haft married?
What, fhall our feaft be kept with flaughter'd men?
Shall braying trumpets, and loud churlish 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

Against mine uncle.

Conft. O, upon my knee,

Made hard with kneeling, I do pray to thee,
Thou virtuous Dauphin, alter not the doom
Forethought by heav'n.

Blanch. Now fhall I fee thy love; what motive may Be ftronger with thee than the name of wife?

Conft. That which upholdeth him, that thee upholds, His honour. Oh, thine honour, Lewis, thine honour!→→ Lervis. I mufe, your Majefty doth feem fo cold, When fuch profound respects do pull you on? Pand. I will denounce a curfe upon his head ? K. Philip. Thou shalt not need. England, I'll fall

from thee.

Conft. O fair return of banifh'd Majefty! Elifeul revolt of French inconftancy! K.Job.France, thou shalt rue this hour within this hour. Faul. OldTime the Clock-fette,that baldSextonTime.

Is

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 must 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.
Hufband, I cannot pray that thou may'it win:
Uncle, I needs must pray that thou may'ft loose:
Father, I may not wifh 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 fhall burn thee up, and thou shalt tura
To afhes, ere our blood fhall quench that fire:
Look to thyself, thou art in jeopardy.

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

[Exeunt.

SCENE changes to a Field of battle.

Alarms, Excurfions: Enter Faulconbridge, with Auftria's

Faulc.

N

(17)

head.

JOW, by my life, this day grows wond'roes hot; (17)

it grows wondrous bot ;

Some airy Devil hovers in the fky.] have, by Mr. Warbu ton's direction, venter'd to fubftitite, 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 reafening, that carries 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 filed the Prince of the Air. /

VOL. III.