What fince thou fwor'ft, is fworn against thyself; Is to mistake again; tho' indirect, And falihood falfhood cures; as fire cools fire, By what thou fwear'ft, against the thing thou fwear'ft :· And better conqueft never canft thou make,. So heavy, as thou shalt not shake them off; Faulc. Will't not be? Will not a calve's-skin stop that mouth of thine? Blanch. Upon thy wedding day? Against the blood that thou haft married? What, fhall our feaft be kept with flaughter'd men? Is husband in my mouth?) ev'n for that name, Against mine uncle. Conft. O, upon my knee, Made hard with kneeling, I do pray to thee, 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 l Lewis. I mule, your Majesty doth feem fo cold, When fuch profound refpects 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 banish'd Majefty! Eli. O foul revolt of French inconftancy ! K. John. France, thou fhalt rue this hour within this hour. Faulc. Old time the clock-fetter, that bald fexton time. 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 muft go withal? I am with both, each army hath a hand, Lewis. Lady, with me, with me thy fortune lies. Blanch. There where my fortune lives, there my life dies. K. John. Coufin, go. draw our puiffance together. [Exit Faulconbridge. France, France, I am burn'd up with inflaming wrath, K. Philip. Thy rage fhall burn thee up, and thou fhalt turn To afhes, ere our blood shall quench that fire: 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. Head. OW, by my life, this day grows wond'roushot; (12) Now Some fiery devil hovers in the sky, And pours down mischief. Auftria's head lie there. Unto his father's ever-living foul. Enter King John, Arthur, and Hubert. K. John. There, Hubert, keep this boy. Richard, make up ; My mother is affailed in our tent, And ta'en, I fear. Faulc. My lord, I refcu'd her: Her highness is in fafety, fear you not.. (12) -it grows wondrous bot; Some airy Devil bovers in the Sky.] I have, by Mr. Warburton's Direction, ventur'd to fubftitute, fiery Devil. It is a very unconclufive Inference, fure, that, because it grew wond'rous hot, foms airy Devil hover'd in the Sky. It is a fort of Reafoning, that carries an Air of Ridicule; unless we could determine, that the Poet meant no more by the Epithet than to express the Sacred Text, in which the. Devil is ftiled the Prince of the Air. But But on, my Liege; for very little pains [Exeunt. Alarms, Excurfions, Retreat. Re-enter King John, Elinor, Arthur, Faulconbridge, Hubert, and Lords. K. John. So fhall it be; your Grace fhall ftay behind So ftrongly guarded: Coufin, look not fad, [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. Coufin, away for England; hafte before, (To Faulc And, ere our coming, fee thou fhake the bags Of hoarding Abbots; their imprison'd angels Set thou at liberty: the fat ribs of peace (13) Muft by the hungry war be fed upon. Ufe our commiffion in its utmost force. Faul. Bell, book, and candle fhall not drive me back, When gold and filver beck me to come on. I leave your highnefs: grandam, I will pray (If ever I remember to be holy) For your fair fafety; fo I kifs your hand. Eli. Farewel, my gentle cousin. K. John. Coz, farewel. [Exit Faule. Eli. Come hither, little kinfman;-hark, a word. [Taking him to one fide of the flage. K. John. [to Hubert on the other fide.] Come hither, Hubert. O my gentle Hubert, Muft by the bungry now be fed upon.] This Word now feems a very idle Term here, and conveys no fatisfactory Idea. An Antithefis, and Oppofition of Terms, fo perpetual with oug Author, requires ; Muft by the bungry War be fed upon. War demanding a large Expence, is very poetically said to be hungry, and to prey on the Wealth and Fat of Peace. Mr. Warburton. And, And, my good friend, thy voluntary oath K. John. Good friend, thou haft no cause to fay ló yet, But thou fhalt have-and creep time ne'er so slow,. I had a thing to fay-but, let it go: Had bak'd thy blood and made it heavy-thick, Or if that thou could'ft fee me without eyes, (14) If the midnight Bell Did with bis iron Tongue, and brazen Mouth, Sound on into the drowy race of Night;] I do not think, that found on gives here that Idea of Solemnity and Horror, which, 'tis plain, our Poet intended to imprefs by this fine Defcription; and which my Emendation conveys. i. e. If it were the ftill part of the Night, or One of the Clock in the Morning, when the Sound of the Bell ftrikes upon the Ear with most Awe and Terror. And it is very ufual with our Shakepears in other, Paffages to exprefs the Horror of a Midnight Bell. Then, |