K.J.

Sound but another, and another shall,
As loud as thine, rattle the welkin's ear,
And mock the deep-mouth'd thunder. For at hand
(Not trufting to this halting Legate here,
Whom he hath us'd rather for sport, than need);
ls warlike John; and in his forehead fits
A bare-ribb's death ; whose office is this day
To fealt upon whole thousands of the French.

Lewis. Strike up your drums, to find this danger out,
Faulc. And thou shalt find it, Dauphin, do not doubt..

[Exeunt, SCENE changes to a Field of Battle.

Alarms. Enter King John and Hubert.
Ow goes the day with us? oh, tell me, Hubert.

Hub. Badly, I fear; how fares your Majesty ? K. John. This sever, that hath troubled me so long, Lies heavy on me: oh, my heart is frck!

Enter a Messenger. Ms. My Lord, your valiant kinsman, Faulconbridge, Desires your Majesty to leave the field; And send him word by. me which way you go.

K.Joh. Tell him, tow?rd Szvinstead, to the abbey there,

Mes. Be of good comfort: for the great supply,
That was expected by the Dauphin here,
Are wreck'd three nights ago on Godwin-sands..
This news was brought to Richard but ev'n now;
The French fight coldly, and retire themselves,

K. Jolin. Ah me!- this tyrant fever burns me up,
And will not let me welcome this good news.
Set on tow'rd Swinstead; to my litter ftrait;
Weakness pofsefseth me, and I am faint... [Exeunt.

SCENE changes to the French Camp.

Enter Salisbury, Pembroke, and Bigot. Sal.

Pemb. Uponce again ; put spirit in the French : If they miscarry, we, miscarry too.

Sale

Sal. That mir-begotten devil, Faulconbridge;
In spite of spite, alone upholds the day.
Pemb. They say, King John, fore fick, hath left the field.

Enter Melun, woanded.
Melun. Lead me to the rovolts of England here.
Sal. When we were happy, we had other names.
Pemb. It is the Count Melun.
Sal. Wounded to death.

Melun. Fly, noble English, you are bought and fold;;
Untread the rude way of rebellion, (29)
And welcome home again discarded faith.
Seek out King John, and fall before his feet ::
For if the French be Lords of this loud day,
He means to recompence the pains you take,
By cutting off your heads; thus hath he sworn, -
And I with him, and many more with me,
Upon the altar at St. Edmondsbury;
Ev'n on that altar, where we swore to you:

Dear amity and everlasting love.

Sal. May this be poflible! may this be true!

Melun. Have I not hideous death within my views
Retaining but a quantity of life.
Which bleeds away, ev'n as a form of wax
Resolveth from its figure 'gaint the fire ?
What in the world tould make me now deceivez.
Since I must lose the use of all deceits.
Why should I then be false, since it is true,
That I must die here, and live hence by truth?
I say again, if Lewis do win the day,
He is forsworn, if e'er those eyes

of.

yours
Behold another day break in the east:
But ev'n this night, whose black contagious breath
Already smoaks about the burning crest
Of the old, feeble, and day-wearied sun,
Ev'n this ill night, your breathing shall expire ;
Paying the fine of rated treachery,
Ev'n with a treacherous fine of all

your

lives,
If Lewis by your affiitance win the day.
Commend me to one Hubert, with your King,
The love of him, and this respect besides,
For that my grandfire was an Englishman,)
Awakes my conscience to confess all this.
In lieu whereof, I pray you, bear me hence
From forth the noise and rumour of the field ;
Where I may think the remnant of my thoughts
In peace ;, and part this body and

ny

soul, With contemplation, and devout desires. Sal. We do believe thee, and be threw

my

soul
But I do love the favour and the form
Of this most fair occasion, by the which
We will untread the steps of damned flight;
And, like a bated and retired flood,
Leaving our rankness and irregular course,
Stoop low within those bounds, we have o'er-look'd;
And calmly run on in obedience
Ev'n to our ocean, to our great King John.
My arm hall give thee help to bear thee hence,

For I do fee the cruel pangs of death
Right in thine eye. Away, my friends ; new Aight;
And happy newness, that intends old right!

[Exeunt, leading off Melun. SCENE changes to a different part of the

French Camp

Enter Lewis, and his Train. 'HE sun of heav'n, methought, was loth to set,

Lew. ;

When th' English measur'd backward their own ground:
In faint rețire : oh, bravely came we off,
When with a volley of our needless shoti
After such bloody toil, we bid good night;
And wound our tatter'd colours clearly up,
Last in the field, and almoft Lords of it!

-
Enter a Mefrenger:
Mes. Where is my Prince, the Dauphin ?:
Lewis. Here; what news ?

Mef, The Count Melun is Nain; the English Lords -
By his persuasion are again fall’n off;,
And your supply, which you have wish'd so long,
Are caft away, and sunk on Godwin sands.

Lewis. Ah foul, shrewd, news! Befhrew thy very heart, I did not think to be so sad to-night,. As this hath made. me. Who was he, that said, King John did Ay, an hour or two before The stumbling night did part our weary powers.

Mes. Who ever spoke it, it is true, my Lord.

Lew.Well; keep good quarter,and good care to-night;: The day shall not be up so soon as I,

the fair adventure of to-morrow. (Exeunte

To try

SCENE

SCENE, an open Place in the Neighbourhood

of Swinstead Abbey. Enter Faulconbridge, and Hubert, severally. Hu. Ho’s therei speak, ho! speak quickly,or.rshoot..

Hub. Of the part of England.
Faulį. And whither doit thou go?

Hub. What's that to thee?
Why may not I demand of thine affairs,
As well as thou of mine ?

Faulc. Hubert, I think.

Hub. Thou hast a perfect thought: I will upon all hazards well believe Thou art my friend, that know'it my tongue so well: Who art thou?

Faulc. Who thou wilt? and, if thou please, Thou may'ft' be-friend me so much, as to think, I come one way of the Plantagenets !

Hub.Unkind remembrance! thouand eyeless night (30) Have done me shame į brave soldier, pardon me, That any accent, breaking from thy congue, Should 'scape the true acquaintance of mine ear.

Faulo. Come, come; sans complement, what news abroad?:

Hub. Why here walk I, in the black brow of night, To find you out:

Faulc. Brief then : and what's the news?

Hub, O my sweet Sir, news fitting to the night; Black, fearful, comfortless, and horrible.

Faulc. Shew me the very wound of this ill news, I am no woman, I'll not swoon at it.

Hub. The King, I fear, is poison’d by a Monk: (30) Urkind remembrance; thou and endless night.

Have done me frame : - ) Why, endless night? Hubert means no more, than that the dulness of his recollection, and the darkness of the night, had disgraced him in his not knowing Faulconbridge by the tone of his voice. Our Author certainly wrote, eye-lefs. Mr. Warburton likewise conçurr'd in starting this emendation,