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I will inftruct my Sorrows to be proud;
For Grief is proud, and makes his owner ftoop.
To me, and to the State of my great Grief,
Let Kings affemble: for my Grief's fo great,
That no Supporter but the huge firm earth
Can hold it up: Here I and Sorrow fit:
Here is my Throne, bid Kings come bow to it. (10)
[Sits down on the Floor.

Enter

(10) bid Kings come bow to it.] I muft here account for the Liberty I have taken to make a Change in the Divifion of the 2d and 3d Acts. In the old Editions, the 2d Act was made to end here; tho' 'tis evident, Lady Constance here, in her Despair, feats herself on the Floor: and She must be fuppofed, as I formerly obferv'd, immediately to rife again, only to go off and end the At decently; or the flat Scene must shut her in from the Sight of the Audience, an Abfurdity I cannot wish to accufe Shakespeare of. Mr. Gildon and fome other Criticks fancied, that a confiderable Part of the 2d Act was loft; and that the Chafin began here. I had joined in this Sufpicion of a Scene or two being loft; and unwittingly drew Mr. Pope into this Error. "It seems to be fo, fays he, and it were "to be wish'd the Reftorer (meaning Me,) could fupply it." To deferve this Great Man's Thanks, I'll venture at the Task; and hope to convince my Readers, that nothing is loft; but that I have fupplied the fufpected Chafm, only by rectifying the Divifion of the Acts. Upon looking a little more narrowly into the Constitution of the Play, I am fatisfied that the 3d At ought to begin with that Scene, which has hitherto been accounted the Laft of the 2d A&: and my Reasons for it are thefe. The Match being concluded, in the Scene before That, betwixt the Dauphin and Blanch, a Messenger is fent for Lady Conftance to K. Philip's Tent, for Her to come to St. Mary's Church to the Solemnity. The Princes all go out, as to the Marriage; and the Bastard staying a little behind, to defcant on Intereft and Commodity, very properly ends the A&. The next Scene then, in the French King's Tent, brings us Salifbury delivering his Meffage to Conftance, who, refusing to go to the Solemnity, fets herfelf down on the Floor. The whole Train returning from the Church to the French King's Pavilion, Philip expreffes fuch Satisfaction on Occafion of the happy Solemnity of that Day; that Conftance rifes from the Floor,

Enter King John, King Philip, Lewis, Blanch, Elinor, Faulconbridge, and Austria.

K. Philip. 'Tis true, fair daughter; and this blessed day

Ever in France fhall be kept feftival:
To folemnize this day, the glorious fun
Stays in his courfe, and plays the alchymist;
Turning with fplendor of his precious eye
The meagre cloddy earth to glitt'ring gold.
The yearly courfe, that brings this day about,
Shall never fee it, but a holy-day.

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[Rifing.

Conft. A wicked day, and not an holy-day. What hath this day deserv'd? what hath it done, That it in golden letter fhould be fet Among the high tides in the kalendar? Nay, rather turn this day out of the week, This day of fhame, oppreffion, perjury: Or, if it muft ftand ftill, let wives with child Pray, that their burthens may not fall this day, Left that their hopes prodigiously be croft: But on this day, let feamen fear no wreck; No bargains break, that are not this day made; This day, all things begun come to ill end, Yea, faith itself to hollow falfhood change! K. Philip. By heaven, lady, you shall have no cause To curfe the fair proceedings of this day: Have I not pawn'd to you my Majesty?

Conft. You have beguil'd me with a counterfeit Refembling Majefty, which, touch'd and try'd, Proves valueless you are forfworn, forfworn. You came in arms to fpill my enemies blood,

:

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and joins in the Seene by entring her Protest against their Joy, and curfing the Business of the Day. Thus, I conceive, the Scenes are fairly continued; and there is no Chaẩm in the Ac tion but a proper Interval made both for Salisbury's coming to Lady Conftance, and for the Solemnization of the Marriage. Befides, as Faulconbridge is evidently the Poet's favourite Character; 'twas very well judg'd to close the At with his Soliloquy.

But

But now in arms, you ftrengthen it with yours.
The grapling vigour, and rough frown of war,.
Is cold in amity and painted peace,

And our oppreffion hath made up this league:
Arm, arm, ye heav'ns, against these perjur'd Kings:
A widow cries, be husband to me, heav'n!
Let not the hours of this ungodly day

Wear out the day in peace; but ere fun-fet,
Set armed difcord 'twixt thefe perjur'd Kings.
Hear me, oh, hear me !

Auft. Lady Conftance, peace.

Conft War, war, no peace; peace is to me a war.
Lymoges, O Auftria! thou doit fhame

That bloody fpoil: thou flave, thou wretch, thou coward,
Thou little valiant, great in villany!

Thou ever ftrong upon the ftronger fide;
Thou fortune's champion, that doft never fight
But when her humourous ladyfhip is by
To teach thee fafety! thou art perjur'd too,
And footh' up greatnefs. What a fool art thou,
A ramping fool, to brag, to ftamp, and fwear,
Upon my pary; thou cold-blooded flave,
Haft thou not fpoke like thunder on my fide?
Been fworn my foldier, bidding me depend
Upon thy stars, thy fortune, and thy ftrength?
And doft thou now fall over to my foes?
Thou wear a lion's hide! doff it for fhame,
And hang a calve's-skin on those recreant limbs.
Auft. O, that a man would speak those words to me!
Faule. And hang a calve's-skin on those recreant limbs.
Auft. Thou dar it not fay fo, villain, for thy life.
Faulc. And hang a calve's-skin on thofe recreant limbs.
Auft. Methinks, that Richard's pride and Richard's fall
Should be a precedent to fright you, Sir.

Faulc. What words are these? how do my finews
fhake!

My father's foe clad in my father's fpoil!
How doth Alecto whisper in my ears,

"Delay not, Richard, kill the villain ftrait;
"Difrobe him of the matchless monument,

"Thy

"Thy father's triumph o'er the favage.".
Now by his foul I fwear, my father's foul,
Twice will I not review the morning's rife,
Till I have torn that trophy from thy back;
And fplit thy heart, for wearing it fo long.

K. John. We like not this, thou doft forget thyfelf.
Enter Pandulph.

K. Philip. Here comes the holy Legate of the Pope.
Pand. Hail, you anointed Deputies of heav'n!
To thee, King John, my holy errand is;

I Pandulph, of fair Milain Cardinal,
And from Pope Innocent the Legate here,
Do in his name religiously demand

Why thou against the Church, our holy Mother,
So wilfully doft fpurn, and force perforce
Keep Stephen Langton, chofen Archbishop
Of Canterbury, from that holy See?
This in our 'forefaid holy Father's name,
Pope Innocent, I do demand of thee.

K. John. What earthly name to interrogatories

Can task the free breath of a facred King?
Thou canst not, Cardinal, devise a name
So flight, unworthy, and ridiculous,

To charge me to an anfwer, as the Pope.

Tell him this tale, and from the mouth of England
Add thus much more, that no Italian priest
Shall tithe or toll in our dominions:

But as we under heav'n are fupreme head,
So, under him, that great Supremacy,
Where we do reign, we will alone uphold;
Without th' affiftance of a mortal hand.
So tell the Pope, all rev'rence fet apart
To him and his ufurp'd authority.

K. Philip. Brother of England, you blafpheme in this. K. John. Tho' you, and all the Kings of Christendom Are led fo grofly by this medling Prieft,

Dreading the curfe, that mony may buy out;
And by the merit of vile gold, drofs, duft,

Purchase corrupted pardon of a man,

Who

Who in that fale fells pardon from himself:
Tho' you, and all the reft, fo grofly led,
This jugling witch-craft with revenue cherish;
Yet I alone, alone, do me oppofe

Against the Pope, and count his friends my foes.
Pand. Then by the lawful power that I have,
Thou shalt ftand curft, and excommunicate;
And bleffed fhall he be, that doth revolt
From his allegiance to an heretick;
And meritorious fhall that hand be call'd,
Canonized and worshipp'd as a Saint,
That takes away by any fecret course
Thy hateful life.

Conft. O, lawful let it be,

That I have room with Rome to curfe a while.
Good father Cardinal, cry thou, Amen,

To my keen curfes; for without my wrong
There is no tongue hath power to curfe him right.
Pand. There's law, and warrant, lady, for my curfe.
Conf. And for mine too; when law can do no right,
Let it be lawful that law bar no wrong:
Law cannot give my child his kingdom here;
For he, that holds his kingdom, holds the law;
Therefore, fince law itself is perfect wrong,
How can the law forbid my tongue to curfe?
Pand. Philip of France, on peril of a curse,
Let go the hand of that arch-heretick;
And raise the pow'r of France upon his head,
Unless he do fubmit himself to Rome.

Eli. Look'ft thou pale, France? do not let go thy

hand.

Conft. Look to that, devil! left that France repent, And, by disjoining hands, hell lose a foul.Auft. King Philip, liften to the Cardinal.

Faulc. And hang a calve's-skin on his recreant limbs. Auft. Well, ruffian, I muft pocket up thefe wrongs, Becaufe-

Faulc. Your breeches beft may carry them.
K. John. Philip, what fay'ft thou to the Cardinal ?
Conft. What should he say, but as the Cardinal?

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