They whirl asunder, and dismember me.
Husband, I cannot pray that thou may'st win;
Uncle, I needs must pray that thou may'st lose;
Father, I may not wish the fortune thine;
Grandam, I will not wish thy wishes thrive;
Whoever wins, on that side shall I lose;
Assured loss, before the match be play'd.

Lew. Lady, with me; with me thy fortune lies. Blanch. There where my fortune lives, there my life dies.

K. John. Cousin, go draw our puissance together.— [Exit Bastard. France, I am burn'd up with inflaming wrath ;

A rage, whose heat hath this condition,

That nothing can allay, nothing but blood,
The blood, and dearest-valu'd blood of France.

K. Phi. Thy rage shall burn thee up, and thou shalt turn

To ashes, ere our blood shall quench that fire.

Look to thyself: thou art in jeopardy.

K. John. No more than he that threats.-To arms

let's hie!

[Exeunt.

SCENE II.-The Same. Plains near Angiers.
Alarums, Excursions. Enter the Bastard with

AUSTRIA'S Head.

Bast. Now, by my life, this day grows wondrous hot; Some fiery' devil hovers in the sky,

And pours down mischief. Austria's head, lie there, While Philip breathes.

make up:

Enter King JOHN, ARTHUR, and Hubert.
K. John. Hubert, keep this boy.-Philip,
My mother is assailed in our tent,

And ta'en, I fear.

Bast.
My lord, I rescued her;
Her highness is in safety, fear you not:
But on, my liege; for very little pains
Will bring this labour to an happy end.

1 airy : in f. e.

[Exeunt.

SCENE III.-The Same.

Alarums; Excursions; Retreat. Enter King JOHN, ELINOR, ARTHUR, the Bastard, HUBERT, and Lords. K. John. So shall it be; your grace shall stay behind, [TO ELINOR.

So strongly guarded.-Cousin, look not sad:

[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. Cousin, [To the Bastard.] away for England: haste before;

And ere our coming, see thou shake the bags
Of hoarding abbots; their' imprison'd angels
Set at liberty: the fat ribs of peace

Must by the hungry now be fed upon:

Use our commission in his utmost force.

Bast. Bell, book, and candle shall not drive me back, When gold and silver becks me to come on.

I leave your highness.-Grandam, I will pray

(If ever I remember to be holy,)

For your fair safety: so I kiss your hand.
Eli. Farewell, gentle cousin.

K. John.

Coz, farewell. [Exit Bastard.

[She talks apart with ARTHUR.

Eli. Come hither, little kinsman; hark, a word.

K. John. Come hither, Hubert. O! my gentle Hubert,

We owe thee much: within this wall of flesh

There is a soul counts thee her creditor,

And with advantage means to pay thy love:
And, my good friend, thy voluntary oath
Lives in this bosom, dearly cherished.
Give me thy hand. I had a thing to say,—
But I will fit it with some better time.
By heaven, Hubert, I am almost asham'd
To say what good respect I have of thee.
Hub. I am much bounden to your majesty.

[yet;

K. John. Good friend, thou hast no cause to say so

But thou shalt have: and creep time ne'er so slow,
Yet it shall come, for me to do thee good.

I had a thing to say,-but let it go.

The sun is in the heaven, and the proud day,

1 This word not in f. e. 2 She takes ARTHUR aside: in f. e.

Attended with the pleasures of the world,
Is all too wanton, and too full of gawds,
To give me audience:-if the midnight bell
Did, with his iron tongue and brazen mouth,
Sound on into the drowsy ear1 of night:

If this same were a churchyard where we stand,
And thou possessed with a thousand wrongs;
Or if that surly spirit, melancholy,

Had bak'd thy blood, and made it heavy, thick,
(Which, else, runs tingling up and down the veins,
Making that idiot, laughter, keep men's eyes,
And strain their cheeks to idle merriment,
A passion hateful to my purposes,)

Or if that thou couldst see me without eyes,
Hear me without thine ears, and make reply
Without a tongue, using conceit alone,
Without eyes, ears, and harmful sound of words,
Then, in despite of the broad watchful day,
I would into thy bosom pour my thoughts.
But ah! I will not-yet I love thee well;
And, by my troth, I think, thou lov'st me well.
Hub. So well, that what you bid me undertake,
Though that my death were adjunct to my act,
By heaven, I would do it.

K. John.
Do not I know, thou wouldst ?
Good Hubert! Hubert-Hubert, throw thine eye
On yond' young boy: I'll tell thee what, my friend,
He is a very serpent in my way;

And wheresoe'er this foot of mine doth tread,

He lies before me. Dost thou understand me?

I could be merry now.

Hubert, I love thee;

Well, I'll not say what I intend for thee:

Remember.-Madam, fare you well:

I'll send those powers o'er to your majesty.

1 race in f. e. 2 tickling in f. e. 3 This word is not in f. e.

4 brooded: in f. e.

Eli. My blessing go with thee!

K. John. For England, cousin: go. Hubert shall be your man, attend on you With all true duty.-On towards Calais, ho! [Exeunt. SCENE IV.-The Same. The French King's Tent. Enter King PHILIP, LEWIS, PANDULPH, and Attendants. K. Phi. So, by a roaring tempest on the flood, A whole armado of convented' sail

Is scatter'd, and disjoin'd from fellowship.

Pand. Courage and comfort! all shall yet go well. K. Phi. What can go well, when we have run so ill? Are we not beaten? Is not Angiers lost?

Arthur ta'en prisoner? divers dear friends slain?
And bloody England into England gone,
O'erbearing interruption, spite of France?

Lew. What he hath won, that hath he fortified:
So hot a speed with such advice dispos'd,
Such temperate order in so fierce a cause,
Doth want example. Who hath read, or heard,
Of any kindred action like to this?

K. Phi. Well could I bear that England had this praise,
So we could find some pattern of our shame.
Enter CONSTANCE.

Look, who comes here? a grave unto a soul;
Holding th' eternal spirit, against her will,
In the vile prison of afflicted breath.-

I pr'ythee, lady, go away with me.

Const. Lo now; now see the issue of your peace! K. Phi. Patience, good lady: comfort, gentle Con

stance.

Const. No, I defy all counsel, all redress,
But that which ends all counsel, true redress,
Death, death.-O, amiable lovely death!
Thou odoriferous stench! sound rottenness!
Arise from forth the couch of lasting night,
Thou hate and terror to prosperity,
And I will kiss thy detestable bones;
And put my eye-balls in thy vaulty brows;

And ring these fingers with thy household worms;
And stop this gap of breath with fulsome dust,
And be a carrion monster like thyself:

Come, grin on me; and I will think thou smil'st,

1 convicted: in f. e.

And buss thee as thy wife! Misery's love,
O, come to me!

K. Phi.

O, fair affliction, peace!

Const. No, no, I will not, having breath to cry.O! that my tongue were in the thunder's mouth; Then with what' passion I would shake the world, And rouse from sleep that fell anatomy,

Which cannot hear a lady's feeble voice,
Which scorns a widow's2 invocation.

Pand. Lady, you utter madness, and not sorrow.
Const. Thou art not holy to belie me so.
I am not mad this hair I tear, is mine;
My name is Constance; I was Geffrey's wife;
Young Arthur is my son, and he is lost!
I am not mad:-I would to heaven, I were;
For then, 't is like I should forget myself:
O, if I could, what grief should I forget!—
Preach some philosophy to make me mad,
And thou shalt be canoniz'd, cardinal;
For, being not mad, but sensible of grief,
My reasonable part produces reason
How I may be deliver'd of these woes,
And teaches me to kill or hang myself:
If I were mad, I should forget my son,
Or madly think a babe of clouts were he.
I am not mad: too well, too well I feel
The different plague of each calamity.

K. Phi. Bind up those tresses. O! what love I note In the fair multitude of those her hairs!

Where but by chance a silver drop hath fallen,

Even to that drop ten thousand wiry friends

Do glue themselves in sociable grief;

Like true, inseparable, faithful lovers,

Sticking together in calamity.

Bind up your hairs.

Const. To England, if you will.
K. Phi.
Const. Yes, that I will; and wherefore will I do it?
I tore them from their bonds, and cried aloud,
"O, that these hands could so redeem my son,
As they have given these hairs their liberty!"
But now, I envy at their liberty,

And will again commit them to their bonds,
Because my poor child is a prisoner.-

1a: in f. e. 2 modern in f. e.