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The Youth says well. Now hear our English King;
For thus his Royalty doth speak in me:
He is prepar'd ; and reason too, he should.
This apish and unmannerly approach,
This harness'd mask, and unadvised revel,
This unhair'd sawciness and boyish troops, (20)
The King doth smile at; and is well-prepard
To whip this dwarfish war, these pigmy arms,
From out the circle of his Territories.
That hand which had the strength, ev'n at your door,
To cudgel you, and make you take the hatch;
To dive, like buckets, in concealed wells;
To crouch in litter of your ftable-planks,
To lye, like pawns, lock'd up in chests and trunks;
To herd with fwine ; to seek fweet safety out,
In vaults and prisons; and to thrill, and shake,
Ev'n at the crying of our nation's Crow,
Thinking his voice an armed Englijs man;
Shall that victorious hand be feebled here,
That in your chambers gave you chastisement?
No; know, the gallant Monarch is in arms;
And like an Eagle o'er his Aiery tow'rs,
To souse annoiance that comes near his neft.
And you degen' rate, you ingrate Revolts,
You bloody Nero's, ripping up the womb
Of your dear mother England, blush for Ahame.
For your own ladies, and pale-visag'd maids,
Like Amazons, come tripping after drums;
Their Thimbles into armed Gantlets change,

(20) This unheard Sawciness, and boyish Troops] Thus the printed Copies in general: but unheard is an Epithet of very little Force, or Meaning here; besides, let us observe how'tis coupled. Faulconbridge is (neering at the Dauphin's Invasion, as an unadvis'd Enterprize, lavouring of Youth and Indiscretion; the Result of Childisness, and unthinking Rashness : and he seems altogether to dwell on this Chara&er of it, by calling his Preparation boyish Troops, dwarfojo War, pigmy Arms, &c. which, according to my Emendation, fort very well with me hair'd, i. c, unbearded Sawciness.

An Ana Tha Sou As An

Is А


Their Needles to Lances, and their gentle Hearts
To fierce and bloody Inclination.
Lewis. There end thy Brave, and turn thy face in

peace ;
We grant, thou canst out-scold us; fare thee well:
We hold our time too precious to be spent
With such a babler.

Pand. Give me leave to speak.
Faulc. No, I will speak.

Lewis. We will attend to neither:


the drums, and let the tongue of war Plead for our int'reft, and our being here.

Faulc Indeed, your drums, being beaten, will cry out ; And so shall you, being beaten ; do but start An Echo with the clamour of thy drum, And ev'n at hand a drum is ready brac'd, That shall reverb'rate all as loud as thine. 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 trusting to this halting Legate here, Whom he hath us'd rather for sport, than need) Is warlike John; and in his forehead fits A bare-ribb'd death; whose office is this day To feaft upon whole thousands of the French.

Lewis. Strike up our 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

? Hubert. Hub. Badly, I fear; how fares your Majesty ?

K. John. This feaver, that hath troubled me fo long, Lyes heavy on me: oh, my heart is fick!

Enter a Messenger. Mef. My lord, your valiant kinsman, Faulconbridge, Defires your Majesty to leave the field;


S 2

Sal. I :

And send him word by me which way you go.
K. John. Tell him, tow'rd Swinstead, to the Abbey

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

K. John. Ah me! this tyrant feaver burns me up,
And will not let me welcome this good news.
Set on tow'rd Swinflead; to my Litter ftrait;
Weakness poffesfeth me, and I am faint. [Exeunt.

SCENE changes to the French Camp.

Enter Salisbury, Pembroke and Bigot.
Sal. Did not think the King fo ftor'd with friends.
If they miscarry, we miscarry too.

Sal. That mil-begotten devil, Faulconbridge,
In spight of spight, alone upholds the day.
Pemb. They say, King Jobr, fore fick, hath left the field.

Enter Melun, wounded.
Melun. Lead me to the Revolts 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, (21)
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,

(21) Unthread the rude Eye of Rebellion.] Tho' all the Coo pies concur in this Reading, how poor is the Metaphor of unThreading the Eye of a Needle? And, besides, as there is no Mention made of a Needle, how remote and obscure is the Allusion without it? The Text, as I have reftord it, is easy and natural; and it is the Mode of Expression, which our Aue thor is every where fond of, to tread and untread, the Way, Path, Steps, &c.


By cutting off your heads; thus hath he sworn,
And I with him, and many more with me,
Upon the altar at St. Edmonsbury;
Ev'n on that altar, where we swore to you
Dear amity and everlasting love.

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

Melun. Have I not hideous death within my view ? Retaining but a quantity of life, Which bleeds away, ev'n as a form of wax Resolveth from its figure 'gainst the fire ? What in the world should make me now deceive, Since I must lose the use of all deceit ? Why should I then be false, fince it is true, That I must die here, and live hence by truth? I fay 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 creit 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 assistance 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


think the remnant of my thoughts
In peace; and part this body and my foul,
With contemplation, and devout desires.
Sal. We do believe thee, and beshrew my

But I do love the favour and the form
Of this most fair occafion, 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 shall give thee help to bear thee hence;
For I do see the cruel pangs of death
Right in thine eye. Away, my friends ; new flight;
And happy newness, that intends old right!

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


Enter Lewis, and his Train. Lewis. He fun of heav'n, methought, was loth to

But staid, and made the western welkin blush ;
When thEnglish measur'd backward their own ground
In faint retire: oh, bravely came we off,
When with a volley of our needless shot,
After such bloody toil, we bid good night;
And wound our tatter'd colours clearly up,
Laft in the field, and almost lords of it !

Enter a Meffenger.
Mes. Where is my prince, the Dauphin ?
Lewis. Here; what news ?

Mes. The count Melun is slain ; the English lords
By his perswafion are again fall'n off ;
And your supply, which you have wish'd so long,
Are cast away, and funk on Godwin sands.

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

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

. Well; keep good quarter, and good care to

night; The day shall not be up so soon as I, To try the fair adventure of to morrow. [Exeunt.


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