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Enter King Philip, Lewis, Pandulpho, and Attendanss. K. Philip. Som
by a roaring tempest on the flood,
A whole s Armada of collected fail Is scatter'd and disjoin'd from fellowship.
Pand. Courage and comfort, all shall yet go well.
Lewis. What he hath won, that hath he fortify'd:
praise, So we could find some pattern of our shame.
5 A while Armado, &c.] This But the whole play abounds with fimilitude, as little as it makes touches relative to the then polfor the purpose in hand, was, I ture of affairs. WARBURTON. do not question, a very taking This play, so far as I can difone when the play was first re cover, was not played till a long presented ; which was a winter time after the defeat of the Aror two at most, after the Spanish mada. The old play, I think, invasion in 1588. It was in re wants this fimile. ference likewisc to that glorious mentator should not have afperiod that Shakespear concludes firmed what he could only guess. his play in that triumphant man
in fo fierce a CAUSE,] ner,
We should read COURSE, i. e. Thus England never did, h.or march. The Oxford Editor connever shall
descends to this emendation. Lye at the proud foot of a con
. Lo, now, now see the issue of your peace. K. Philip. Patience, good Lady; comfort, gentle
K. Pbilip. O fair amfiction, peace.
Const. No, no, I will not, having breath to cry;
Pand. Lady, you utter madness, and not sorrow.
7 Modern ix vocation.] It is in contempt, he uses this word, hard to say what Shakespeare her modern grace. It apparentiv means by niidein: it is not op means fomething fight and isposed to ancient. In All's we'l, considerable. ba: cr.is well, speaking of a girl
I am not mad; this hair I tear is mine ;
Conft. To England, if you will.-
Conft. Yes, that I will; and wherefore will I do it?
3 It was necessary that Co - lowing speeches had leen equalfarce should be interrupted, be- ly happy; but they only serve to cause a passion fo violent cannot shew, how difficult it is to mainbe born long. I wish the fol. tuin the pathetick long.
That we shall see and know our friends in heav'n
Pand. You hold too heinous a respect of grief.
do. I will not keep this form upon my head,
[Tearing off her bead-cloaths. When there is such disorder in my wit. O Lord, my boy, my Arthur, my fair fon! My life, my joy, my food, my all the world! My widow-comfort, and my sorrow's cure ! [Exit. K. P:ibp. I fear fome outrage, and I'll follow her.
kad you such a loss as 1, ever cannot help himself cafts his I could give better comfort] eyes on others for asliftance, and This is a sentiment which great often mistakes their inability for sorrow always dictates. Who- coldness.
Lewis.' There's nothing in this world can make me
Pand. Before the curing of a strong disease,
Lewis. All days of glory, joy, and happiness.
Pand. If you had won it, certainly, you had. No, no; when fortune means to men most good, She looks upon them with a threat’ning eye. 'Tis strange to think how much King Jobn hath lost In this, which he accounts so clearly won. Are not you griev'd, that Arthur is his prisoner?
Lewis. As heartily, as he is glad he hath him.
Pand. Your mind is all as youthful as your blood. Now hear me speak with a prophetick spirit; For ev’n the breath of what I mean to speak Shall blow each dust, each straw, each little rub, Out of the path which shall directly lead Thy foot to England's throne: and therefore mark. John hath seiz'd Arthur, and it cannot be That whilft warm life plays in that infant's veins, The misplac'd John should entertain an hour, A minute, nay, one quiet breath, of rest. A scepter, snatch'd with an unruly hand,
There's nothing in this, &c.] ftrongly in the earlier years, and The young Prince feels his de- when can disgrace be less welfeat with more sensibility than his come than when a man is going father. Shame operates molt to his bride ?