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That was expected by the dauphin here,
K. John. Ah me! this tyrant fever burns me up,
Another part of the same.
Enter SALISBURY, PEMBROKE, Bigot, and others Sal. I did not think the king so stored with friends.
Pem. Up once again ; put spirit in the French; If they miscarry, we miscarry too.
Sal. That misbegotten devil, Faulconbridge, In spite of spite, alone upholds the day. Pem. They say, king John, sore sick, hath left the
Enter MELUN, wounded, and led by Soldiers. Mel. Lead me to the revolts of England here. Sal. When we were happy, we had other names. Pem. It is the count Melun. Sal.
Wounded to death. Mel. Fly, noble English ; you are bought and sold; Unthread the rude eye of rebellion, And welcome home again discarded faith. Seek out king John, and fall before his feet; For, if the French be lords of this loud day, He means to recompense the pains you take, By cutting off your heads. Thus hath he sworn, And I with him, and many more with me, Upon the altar of Saint Edmund's Bury ;
1 The king had not long since called him by his original name of Philip, but the messenger could not take the same liberty.
2 The Frenchman, i. e. Lewis, means, &c.
Even on that altar, where we swore to you
Sal. May this be possible ? may this be true ?
Mel. Have I not hideous death within my view, Retaining but a quantity of life; Which bleeds away, even as a form of wax Resolveth' from his figure 'gainst the fire ? What in the world should make me now deceive, Since I must lose the use of all deceit? Why should I then be false, since it is true That I must die here, and live hence by truth? I say again, if Lewis do win the day, He is forsworn, if e'er those eyes yours Behold another day break in the east; But even this night,-whose black, contagious breath Already smokes about the burning crest Of the old, feeble, and day-wearied sun,Even this ill night, your breathing shall expire; Paying the fine of rated treachery, Even with a treacherous fine of all your lives, If Lewis by your assistance win the day. Commend me to one Hubert, with your king; ' The love of him—and this respect besides, For that my grandsire was an EnglishmanAwakes my conscience to confess all this. In lieu whereof, I pray you, bear me hence From forth the noise and rumor of the field; Where I may think the remnant of my thoughts In peace, and part this body and my soul With contemplation and devout desires.
Sal. We do believe thee,-and beshrew my soul But I do love the favor and the form Of this most fair occasion, by the which We will untread the steps of damned flight; And, like a bated and retired flood, Leaving our rankness” and irregular course,
1 i. e. dissolveth.
2 Rankness, as applied to a river, here signifies eruberant, ready to overftow; as applied to the actions of the speaker and his party, it signifies wanton wildness.
Stoop low within those bounds we have o’erlooked,
[Exeunt, leading off Melun.
SCENE V. The same.
The French Camp.
Enter LEWIS and his Train. Lew. The sun of heaven, methought, was loath to set; But staid, and made the western welkin blush, When the English measured backward their own ground In faint retire. O, bravely came we off, When with a volley of our needless shot, After such bloody toil, we bid good night; And wound our tottering 3 colors clearly up, Last in the field, and almost lords of it!
Enter a Messenger.
Here :- What news?
you have wished so long, Are cast away, and sunk, on Goodwin Sands. Lew. Ah, foul, shrewd news !—Beshrew thy very
2 Innovation. 3 Tottering colors is the reading of the old copy, which was altered to tattered by Johnson, who is followed by the subsequent editors. To totter, in old language, was to waver, to shake with a tremulous motion, as colors would do in the wind. “To tottre (says Baret), nutare, vacillare, ser shake and wagge."
Mess. Whoever spoke it, it is true, my lord.
night; The day shall not be up so soon as I, To try the fair adventure of to-morrow. [Exeunt.
SCENE VI. An open Place in the Neighborhood of
Enter the Bastard and HUBERT, meeting.
Of the part of England. Bast
. Whither dost thou go? Hub. What's that to thee? Why may not I demand Of thine affairs, as well as thou of mine?
Bast. Hubert, I think.
Thou hast a perfect” thought!
Who thou wilt: an if thou please,
Hub. Unkind remembrance! thou and eyeless night?
abroad Hub. Why, here walk I, in the black brow of night, To find you out. Bast.
Brief, then; and what's the news? Hub. O, my sweet sir, news fitting to the night, Black, fearful, comfortless, and horrible.
1 i. e. keep in your allotted posts or stations. 2 i. e. a well-informed one. 3 The old copy reads " endless night." The emendation was made by Theobald.
Bast. Show me the very wound of this ill news;
Hub. The king, I fear, is poisoned by a monk.
Bast. How did he take it? Who did taste to him?
Hub. A monk, I tell you ; a resolved villain, Whose bowels suddenly burst out. The king Yet speaks, and, peradventure, may recover.
Bast. Who didst thou leave to tend his majesty?
Bast. Withhold thine indignation, mighty Heaven,
SCENE VII. The Orchard of Swinstead Abbey.
Enter PRINCE HENRY, SALISBURY, and Bigot.
P. Hen. It is too late ; the life of all his blood Is touched corruptibly; and his pure brain (Which some suppose the soul's frail dwelling-house)
1 Not one of the historians who wrote within sixty years of the event, mentions this improbable story. The tale is, that a monk, to revenge himself on the king for a saying at which he took offence, poisoned a cup of ale, and having brought it to his majesty, drank some of it himself, to induce the king to taste it, and soon afterwards expired. Thomas Wylkes is the first who mentions it in his Chronicle as a report. According to the best accounts, John died at Newark, of a fever.
2 i. e. less speedily, after some delay.