The meagre cloddy earth to glitt'ring gold.
The yearly course, that brings this day about,
Shall never fee it, but a holy day.

Conft. A wicked day, and not an holy-day.

[Rifing. What hath this day deferv'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 must 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 fhall have no cause To curle the fair proceedings of this day: Have I not pawn'd to you my majefty?

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,
But now in arms, you ftrengthen it with yours.
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 thefe perjur'd Kings:
A widow cries, be hufband 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, O Lymoges, O Auftria! thou doft fhame

That bloody fpoil: thou flave, thou wretch, thou coward,

Thou little valiant, great in villainy!
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'ft up greatnefs. What a fool art thou,
A ramping fool, to brag, to ftamp, and fwear,
Upon my party; thou cold-blooded flave,
Haft thou not spoke 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 thofe recreant limbs.
Auft. O, that a man would fpeak thofe words to me!
Faule. And hang a calve's-fkin on thofe recreant
limbs.

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

2

Auft. Methinks, that Richard's pride and Richard's fall

Should be a precedent to fright you, Sir.

Faule. What words are thefe? how do my finews shake!

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 matchlefs monument, "Thy father's triumph o'er the favages.". 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 thyself.

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 againft the Church, our holy Mother,
So wilfully doft fpurn, and force perforce
Keep Stephen Langton, chofen Archbishop

have been omitted. In the first
fketch of this play (which Shake.
Speare is faid to have had a hand
in, jointly with William Rowley)
we accordingly find this infilled
upon, and I have ventured to
place a few of thofe verfes here.
POPE.

To the infertion of thefe lines I have nothing to object. There are many other paflages in the old play, of great value. The

omiffion of this incident in the fecond draught, was natural. Shakespeare, having familiarifed the ftory to his own imagination, forgot that it was obicure to his audience; or, what is equally probable, the story was then fo popular that a hint was fufficient at that time to bring it to mind, and these plays were written with very little care for the approbation of posterity.

Of

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, devife a name
So flight, unworthy, and ridiculous,
To charge me to an anfwer, as the Pope.

3

Tell him this tale, and from the mouth of England
Add thus much more, that no Italian prieft
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,
Purchafe corrupted pardon of a man,
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 oppose

Against the Pope, and count his friends my fccs.
Pand. Then by the lawful power that I have,
Thou shalt ftand curft, and excommunicate;

3 This must have been at the time when it was written, in our ftruggles with popery, a very captivating fcene.

So many paffages remain in which Shakespeare evidently takes his advantage of the facts then recent, and of the paffions then in

motion, that I cannot but fufpect that time has obfcured much of his art, and that many ailufions yet remain undifcovered which perhaps may be gradually retrieved by fucceeding commentators.

And bleffed fhall he be, that doth revolt
From his allegiance to an heretick;
And meritorious fhall that hand be call'd,
Canoniz'd and worfhipp'd as a Saint,
That takes away by any fecret courfe +
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.
Fand. There's law, and warrant, Lady, for my curfe.
Conft. 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 itfelf is perfect wrong,
How can the law forbid my tongue to curfe?
Pand. Philip of France, on peril of a curfe,
Let go the hand of that arch-heretick;
And raise the pow'r of France upon his head,
Unless he do fubmit himfelf 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 lofe a foul. Auft. King Philip, liften to the Cardinal.

Faule. And hang a calve's-fkin on his recreant limbs. Auft. Well, ruffian, I muft pocket up Becaufe

thefe wrongs,

Faulc. Your breeches beft may carry them.
K. John. Philip, what fay'ft thou to the Cardinal?

4 This may allude to the bull publifhed against Queen Elizabeth. Or we may fuppofe, fince we have no proof that this play appeared in its prefent ftate, before the reign of King James,

that it was exhibited foon after the popish plot. I have seen a Spanish book in which Garnet, Faux, and their accomplices are regiftred as faints.

Conft.