Your worth, your greatnefs, and nobility. [man?
Bigot. Out, dunghill! dareft thou brave a noble-
Hub. Not for my life; but yet I dare defend
My innocent life against an Emperor.

Sal. Thou art a murderer.

Hub. Do not prove me fo;

Yet, I am none. Whofe tongue foe'er fpeaks falfe,
Not truly speaks; who speaks not truly, lies.
Pemb. Cut him to pieces.

Faulc. Keep the peace, I say.

Sal. Stand by, or I fhall gaul you, Faulconbridge. Faulc. Thou wert better gaul the devil, Salisbury. If thou but frown on me, or ftir thy foot, Or teach thy hafty spleen to do me shame, I'll ftrike thee dead. Put up thy fword betime, Or I'll fo maul you, and your toasting-iron, That you fhall think the devil is come from hell. Bigot. What will you do, renowned Faulconbridge?

Second a villain, and a murderer?

Hub. Lord Bigot, I am none.
Bigot. Who killed this Prince?

Hub. 'Tis not an hour fince I left him well:
I honoured him, I loved him, and will weep
My date of life out for his sweet life's loss.

Sal. Truft not thofe cunning waters of his eyes, For villainy is not without fuch rheum; And he, long traded in it, makes it seem Like rivers of remorfe and innocence. Away with me all you whofe fouls abhor Th' uncleanly favour of a flaughter-house, For I am ftifled with the smell of fin.

Bigot. Away tow'rd Bury, to the Dauphin there.

Pemb. There, tell the King, he may enquire us out. [Exeunt Lords.

Faulc. Here's a good world! Knew you of this Beyond the infinite and boundless reach [fair work? Of mercy, if thou didst this deed of death,

Art thou damned, Hubert.

Hub. Do but hear me, Sir.

Faulc. Ha? I'll tell thee what,

Thou'rt damned fo black--nay, nothing is fo black;
Thou art more deep damned than Prince Lucifer.
There is not yet fo ugly a fiend of hell

As thou shalt be, if thou didst kill this child.
Hub. Upon my foul-

Faulc. If thou didst but confent

To this most cruel act, do but despair,

And if thou wantest a cord, the smallest thread
That ever fpider twisted from her womb
Will ftrangle thee; a rush will be a beam
To hang thee on: or wouldest thou drown thyself,
Put but a little water in a spoon,
And it fhall be as all the ocean,
Enough to stifle fuch a villain up.
I do fufpect thee very grievously.

Hub. If I in act, confent, or fin of thought,
Be guilty of the ftealing that fweet breath,
Which was embounded in this beauteous clay,
Let hell want pains enough to torture me!
I left him well.

Faule. Go, bear him in thine arms.

I am amazed, methinks, and lofe my way
Among the thorns and dangers of this world.
How easy dost thou take all England up! (23)

(23) How eafy doft thou take all England up,

From forth this morfel of dead royalty! But how did Hubert take England up, from forth the dead body of young Arthur? Moft fagacious editors! The ftupid pointing, which has prevailed in all the copies, makes ftark nonfenfe of the paffage. My pointing reftores it to its genuine puri

From forth this morfel of dead royalty,
The life, the right, and truth of all this realm
Is fled to heaven; and England now is left
To tug and feramble, and to part by the teeth
The unowned interest of proud fwelling state.
Now for the bare pick'd bone of Majefty,
Doth dogged War bristle his angry crest,
And fuarleth in the gentle eyes of Peace.
Now powers
from home, and discontents at home
Meet in one line, and vaft confufion waits
(As doth a raven on a fick fallen beast)
The imminent decay of wrested pomp.
Now happy he whofe cloak and cincture can
Flold out this tempeft. Bear away that child,
And follow me with speed; I'll to the King;
A thoufand bufineffes are brief at hand,
And Heaven itself doth frown upon the land.

ACT V.

SCENE, the Court of England.

[Exeunt.

Enter King JOHN, PANDULPH, and Attendants.

ΤΗ

K. JOHN.

Hus I have yielded up into your hand
The circle of my glory.

Pand. Take again

[Giving the Crown.

From this my hand, as holding of the Pope,

ty. Faulconbridge, seeing Hubert take up the body of the dead Prince, makes two reflections:- How eafily, fays he, doft thou take up all England in that burden! and then, that the life, right, and truth of the realm was fled to Heaven from out the breathlefs corfe of that flaughtered royalty, c.

Your fovereign greatness and authority.

K. John. Now keep your holy word; go meet
the French,

And from his Holiness ufe all your power
To ftop their marches, 'fore we are inflamed.
Our difcontented counties do revolt;
Our people quarrel with obedience;
Swearing allegiance, and the love of foul,
To ranger blood, to foreign royalty:
This inundation of mistempered humour
Refts by you only to be qualified.

Then paufe not; for the prefent time's fo fick,
That prefent medicine must be ministered,
Or overthrow incurable enfues.

Pand. It was my breath that blew this tempeft up,
Upon your stubborn ufage of the Pope:
But fince you are a gentle convertite, (24)
My tongue fhall hulh again this storm of war,
And make fair weather in your bluft'ring land..
On this Afcenfion-day, remember well,
Upon your oath of fervice to the Pope,

Gol to make the French lay down their arms. [Exit. K. John. Is this Afcenfion-day? did not the prophet

:

(14) But fince you are a gentle convertite,] i. e. a convert, (a penitent) as we now phrafe it but in our Author's time convertite was the term in fashion. We find him ufe it again, more than once. In as you like it, fententious Jaques fays;

out of thefe convertites

There is much matter to be heard and learned.
And in his poem called Tarquin and Lucrece ;

He thence departs a heavy convertite z
She there remains a hopeless caft-away.

And Beaumont and Fletcher, in their Noble- Gentleman:
Your coufin, who is now a convertite.

The termination of this word, no doubt, was formed from the Italian participle convertito: and the Spaniards likewife call a convert, un convertide.

Say, that before Afcenfion-day at noon
My crown I should give off? even fo I have:
I did fuppofe it fhould be on constraint;
But, Heaven be thanked, it is but voluntary.

Enter FAULCONBRIDGE.

[out

Faule. All Kent hath yielded, nothing there holds
But Dover-caitle: London hath received,
Like a kind hot, the Dauphin and his powers.
Your nobles will not hear you, but are gone
To offer fervice to your enemy;

And wild amazement hurries up and down
The little number of your doubtful friends.

K. John. Would not my Lords return to me again, After they heard young Arthur was alive?

Faulc. They found him dead, and cast into the An empty caíket, where the jewel, life, [streets, By fome damned hand was robbed and ta'en away.

K. John. That villain Hubert told me he did live.
Fauic. So on my foul he did, for ought he knew.
But wherefore do you droop? why look you fad ?
Be great in act, as you have been in thought:
Let not the world fee fear and fad diftruit
Govern the motion of a kingly eye:

Be ftirring as the time; be fire with fire;
Threaten the threatner, and out-face the brow
Of bragging Horror: fo fhall inferior eyes,
That borrow their behaviour from the great,
Grow great by your example, and put on
The dauntlefs fpirit of refolution.
Away, and glifter like the god of war,
When he intendeth to become the field;
Shew boldness and afpiring confidence.
What, fhall they feek the lion in his den,
And fright him there? and make him tremble there?
Oh, let it not be faid! forage, and run