Hath willingly departed with a part.

And France, whofe armour confcience buckled on,
Whom zeal and charity brought to the field,
And God's own foldier, rounded in the ear
With that fame purpofe-changer, that fly devil,
That broker, that ftill breaks the pate of faith,
That daily break-vow, he that wins of all,

Of kings, of beggars, old men, young men, maids,
Who having no external thing to lofe

But the word maid, cheats the poor maid of that;
That fmooth-face'd gentleman, tickling Commodity,—
Commodity, the bias of the world,

"The world, which of itself is poised well,
"Made to run even upon even ground;
"Till this advantage, this vile-drawing bias,
"This fway of motion, this Commodity,
"Makes it take head from all indifferency,
"From all direction, purpose, course, intent.
And this fame bias, this Commodity,

This bawd, this broker, this all-changing word,
Clapp'd on the outward eye of fickle France,
Hath drawn him from his own determin'd aid,
From a refolv'd and honourable war,
To a most base and vile-concluded peace.
And why rail I on this Commodity ?
But for because he hath not wooed me yet:
Not that I have the power to clutch my hand,
When his fair angels would falute my palm;
But that my hand, as unattempted yet,
Like a poor beggar raileth on the rich.
Well, while I am a beggar, I will rail;
And fay, there is no fin but to be rich.
And being rich, my virtue then shall be,
To fay, there is no vice but beggary.
Since Kings break faith upon commodity,
Gain, be my Lord; for I will worship thee!

[Exit.

ACT

ACT

III.

H

SCENE

I. A

The French King's pavilion.

Enter Conftance, Arthur, and Salisbury.

Conf. Falfe blood to falfe blood join'd! gone to G

One to be marry'd! gone to fwear a peace!

be friends!

Shall Lewis have Blanch, and Blanch those provinces ?
It is not fo; thou haft mis-spoke, mif-heard;
Be well advis'd, tell o'er thy tale again,
It cannot be; thou doft but fay 'tis fo.
I trust I may not trust thee; for thy word
Is but the vain breath of a common man.
Believe me, I do not believe thee, man;
I have a King's oath to the contrary.
Thou shalt be punish'd for thus frighting me;
For I am fick, and capable of fears;

Opprefs'd with wrongs, and therefore full of fears;
A widow, hufbandlefs, fubject to fears;
A woman, naturally born to fears :

And though thou now confefs thou didst but jest,
With my vex'd spirits I cannot take a truce;
But they will quake and tremble all this day.
What doft thou mean by shaking of thy head?
Why dost thou look fo fadly on my fon?
What means that hand upon that breast of thine?
Why holds thine eye that lamentable rheum,
Like a proud river peering o'er his bounds?
Be these fad fighs confirmers of thy words?
Then speak again, not all thy former tale,
But this one word, whether thy tale be true.

Sal. As true as, I believe, you think them false,
That give you cause to prove my faying true.
Conft. Oh, if thou teach me to believe this forrow,
Teach thou this forrow how to make me die;
And let belief and life encounter fo,

As doth the fury of two defp'rate men,
Which in the very meeting fall and die.

Lewis wed Blanch! O boy, then where art thou?
France friend with England! what becomes of me?

Fellow,

Fellow, be gone, I cannot brook thy fight *.
Arth. I do befeech you, mother, be content.

Conft. "If thou that bid'ft me be content, wert grim,

Ugly, and fland'rous to thy mother's womb, "Full of unpleafing blots, and fightless stains,

Lame, foulith, crooked, fwart, prodigious, "Patch'd with foul moles, and eye-offending marks; "I would not care; I then would be content. "For then I fhould not love thee: no, nor thou "Become thy great birth, nor deferve a crown. "But thou art fair, and at thy birth, dear boy! "Nature and fortune join'd to make thee great. "Of Nature's gifts thou may'ft with lilies boast, "And with the half-blown rofe." But Fortune, oh! She is corrupted, change'd, and, won from thee, Adulterates hourly with thine uncle John; And with her golden hand hath pluck'd on France To tread down fair refpect of fovereignty, And made his Majesty the bawd to theirs. France is a bawd to Fortune, and to John: That ftrumpet Fortune, that ufurping John! Tell me, thou fellow, is not France forfworn? Invenom him with words; or get thee gone, And leave thefe woes alone, which I alone Am bound to underbear.

Sal. Pardon me, Madam,

I may not go without you to the Kings.

Conft. Thou may'ft, thou fhalt, I will not go with

I will inftruct my forrows to be proud:

For grief is proud, and makes his owner ftout.
To me, and to the ftate of my great grief,
Let Kings affemble: for my grief's fo great,
That no fupporter but the huge firm earth

**

-brook thy fight.

This news hath made thee a moft ugly man.
Sal. What other harm have I, good Lady, done,

But fpoke the harm that is by others done?
Conft. Which harm within itself fo heinous is,
As it makes harmful all that speak of it.
Arth. I do befeech you, &c.

[thee.

Can

1

Can hold it up. Here I and forrow fit.

Here is my throne, bid Kings come bow to it.

[Sits down on the floor.

SCENE II.

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

[day

K. Phil. 'Tis true, fair daughter, and this blessed Ever in France fhall be kept festival. To folemnize this day, the glorious fun Stays in his course, and plays the alchymist; Turning with fplendor of his precious eye The meagre cloudy earth to glitt'ring gold. The yearly course that brings this day about, Shall never fee it but a holiday.

Conft. A wicked day, and not an holiday.- [Rifing.
What hath this day deferv'd? what hath it done,
That it in golden letter should be set
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 must ftand ftill, let wives with child
Pray, that their burthens may not fall this day,
Left that their hopes prodigioufly be crofs'd..
But on this day, let seamen 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 falfehood change!
K. Phil. By heaven, Lady, you fhall 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 majesty, which, touch'd and try'd,
Proves valueless: you are forfworn, forfworn;
You came in arms to fpill my enemies blood,
But now in arms you ftrengthen it with your's.
The grappling 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

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 these perjur'd Kings.
Hear me, oh, hear me !

Auft. Lady Conftance, peace.

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

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

Thou ever ftrong upon the ftronger fide;

[ard,

Thou Fortune's champion, that doft never fight
But when her humorous Ladyship is by
To teach thee fafety! thou art perjur'd too,
And footh'ft up greatnefs. What a fool art thou,
A ramping fool, to brag, to ftamp, and swear,
Upon my party? thou cold-blooded slave,
Haft thou not fpoke like thunder on my fide?
Been fworn my foldier, bidding me depend
Upon thy ftars, 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-fkin on those recreant limbs.

Auft. Ŏ that a man would speak those words to me! Faulc. And hang a calve's-skin on thofe recreant

limbs.

Auft. Thou dar'ft not fay fo, villain, for thy life. Faulc. And hang a calve's-skin on those recreant limbs.

Auft.

* Methinks that Richard's pride, and Richard's fall

Should be a precedent to fright you, Sir.

What was the ground of this quarrel of the bastard to Auftria, is no where specified in the prefent play: nor is there in this place, or the fcene where it is first hinted at (namely the fecond of act 2.) the leaft mention of any reafon for it. But the ftory is, that Auftria, who kill'd King Richard Coeur-de lion, wore, as the spoil of that Prince, a lion's hide which had belonged to him. This circumftance renders the anger of the baftard very natural, and ought not to have been omitted. In the first sketch of this play, (which Shakespeare is faid to have had a hand in, jointly with Wm. Rowley), we accordingly find this infifted upon, and I have ventured to place a few of thofe verfes here. Mr. Pope.