K. Phi. Thou shalt not need:-England, I'll fall

from thee.

Const. O fair return of banish'd majesty!
Eli. O foul revolt of French inconstancy!

K. John. France, thou shalt rue this hour within

this hour.

Bast. Old time the clock-setter, that bald sexton time,

Is it as he will? well then, France shall rue.
Blanch. The sun's o'ercast with blood: Fair day,

adieu!

Which is the side 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 asunder, and dismeınber me.
Husband, I cannot pray that thou may'st win;
Uncle, I needs must pray that thou may'st lose;
Father, I may not wish the fortune thine;
Grandam, I will not wish thy wishes thrive:
Whoever wins, on that side shall I lose;
Assured loss, before the match be play'd.

Lew. Lady, with me; with me thy fortune lies.
Blanch. There where my fortune lives, there my

life dies.

K. John. Cousin, go draw our puissance together.[Exit Bastard. France, I am burn'd up with inflaming wrath; A rage, whose heat hath this condition, Than nothing can allay, nothing but blood, The blood, and dearest-valu'd blood, of France.

K. Phi. Thy rage shall burn thee up, and thou

shalt turn

To ashes, ere our blood shall quench that fire:
Look to thyself, thou art in jeopardy.

SCENE II.

The same. Plains near Angiers.

Alarums, Excursions. Enter the Bastard, with AUSTRIA'S Head.

Bast. Now, by my life, this day grows wondrous

hot;

Some airy devil hovers in the sky,
And pours down mischief. Austria's head lie there;
While Philip breathes.

Enter King JOHN, ARTHUR, and HUBERT.

K. John. Hubert, keep this boy:-Philip, make

Her highness is in safety, fear you not:

My lord, I rescu'd her;

[Exeunt.

But on, my liege; for very little pains

Will bring this labour to an happy end.

SCENE III.

The same.

Alarums; Excursions; Retreat. Enter King JOHN, ELINOR, ARTHUR, the Bastard, HUBERT, and Lords.

K. John. So shall it be; your grace shall stay

behind,

[TO ELINOR.

So strongly guarded.-Cousin, look not sad:

[To ARTHUR.

Thy grandam loves thee; and thy uncle will
As dear be to thee as thy father was.

Arth. O, this will make my mother die with

grief.

K. John. Cousin, [To the Bastard.] away for

England; haste before:

And, ere our coming, see thou shake the bags
Of hoarding abbots; angels imprisoned
Set thou at liberty: the fat ribs of peace
Must by the hungry now be fed upon:
Use our commission in his utmost force.

Bast. Bell, book, and candle' shall not drive me

back,

When gold and silver becks me to come on.
I leave your highness:-Grandam, I will pray

(If ever I remember to be holy,)

For your fair safety; so I kiss your hand.

Eli. Farewell, my gentle cousin.

K. John.

Coz, farewell. [Exit Bastard. Eli. Come hither, little kinsınan; hark, a word. [She takes ARTHUR aside. K. John. Come hither, Hubert. O my gentle Hubert,

We owe thee much; within this wall of flesh
There is a soul, counts thee her creditor,
And with advantage means to pay thy love:
And, my good friend, thy voluntary oath
Lives in this bosom, dearly cherished.
Give me thy hand. I had a thing to say,-
But I will fit it with some better time.
By heaven, Hubert, I am almost asham'd
To say what good respect I have of thee.

Hub. I am much bounden to your majesty.

K. John. Good friend, thou hast no cause to say

so yet:

But thou shalt have; and creep time ne'er so slow,
Yet it shall come, for me to do thee good.
I had a thing to say, -But let it go:
The sun is in the heaven, and the proud day,
Attended with the pleasures of the world,
Is all too wanton, and too full of gawds,
To give me audience: If the midnight bell
Did, with his iron tongue and brazen mouth,
Sound one unto the drowsy race of night;
If this same were a church-yard where we stand,
And thou possessed with a thousand wrongs;
Or if that surly spirit, melancholy,
Had bak'd thy blood, and made it heavy, thick;
(Which, else, runs tickling up and down the veins,
Making that idiot, laughter, keep men's eyes,
And strain their cheeks to idle merriment,
A passion hateful to my purposes;)

Or if that thou could'st see me without eyes,
Hear me without thine ears, and make reply
Without a tongue, using conceit alone,
Without eyes, ears, and harmful sound of words;
Then, in despite of brooded watchful day,
I would into thy bosom pour my thoughts:
But ah, I will not: -Yet I love thee well;
And, by my troth, I think, thou lov'st me well.
Hub. So well, that what you bid me undertake,
Though that my death were adjunct to my act,
By heaven, I'd do't.

K. John.
Do not I know, thou would'st?
Good Hubert, Hubert, Hubert, throw thine eye
On yon young boy: I'll tell thee what, my friend,
He is a very serpent in my way;

*-full of gawds,] Gawds are any showy ornaments.

9

using conceit alone,] Conceit here, as in many other

And, wheresoe'er this foot of mine doth tread,
He lies before me: Dost thou understand me?

Enough.

I could be merry now: Hubert, I love thee;
Well, I'll not say what I intend for thee:
Remember. Madam, fare you well:
I'll send those powers o'er to your majesty.

Eli. My blessing go with thee!
K. John.

For England, cousin:

Hubert shall be your man, attend on you
With all true duty. On toward Calais, ho!

[Exeunt.

SCENE IV.

The same. The French King's Tent.

Enter King PHILIP, LEWIS, PANDULPH, and Attendants.

K. Phi. So, by a roaring tempest on the flood, A whole armado of convicted sail2 Is scatter'd and disjoin'd from fellowship.

1

Pand. Courage and comfort! all shall yet go

well.

Remember.] This is one of the scenes to which may be promised a lasting commendation. Art could add little to its perfection; no change in dramatick taste can injure it; and time itself can subtract nothing from its beauties.

2

of convicted sail-] Overpowered, baffled, destroyed.