Thy tongue against thy tongue. O, let thy vow
First made to heaven, first be to heaven perform'd;
That is, to be the champion of our church!
What since thou swor'st, is sworn against thyself,
And may not be performed by thyself:
For that which thou hast sworn to do amiss,
Is not amiss when it is truly done;

And being not done, where doing tends to ill,
The truth is then most done not doing it:
The better act of purposes mistook
Is, to mistake again; though indirect,
Yet indirection thereby grows direct,

And falsehood falsehood cures, as fire cools fire
Within the scorched veins of one new burn'd.
It is religion that doth make vows kept;b
But thou hast sworn against religion,
By what thou swear'st against the thing thou
swear'st;

And mak'st an oath the surety for thy truth
Against an oath: the truth thou art unsure
To swear, swears only not to be forsworn;
Else, what a mockery should it be to swear!
But thou dost swear only to be forsworn,
And most forsworn, to keep what thou dost swear.
Therefore, thy later vows, against thy first,
Is in thyself rebellion to thyself;
And better conquest never canst thou make,
Than arm thy constant and thy nobler parts
Against these giddy loose suggestions:
Upon which better part our prayers come in,
If thou vouchsafe them; but, if not, then know,
The peril of our curses light on thee
So heavy, as thou shalt not shake them off,
But, in despair, die under their black weight.
AUST. Rebellion, flat rebellion!
BAST.

Will 't not be? Will not a calf's-skin stop that mouth of thine?

LEW. Father, to arms!

BLANCH.

Upon thy wedding-day? Against the blood that thou hast married? What, shall our feast be kept with slaughter'd

men?

Shall braying trumpets, and loud churlish drums,
Clamours of hell, be measures to our pomp?
O husband, hear me !—aye, alack, how new
Is husband in my mouth!-even for that name,
Which till this time my tongue did ne'er pronounce,

a Is not amiss when it is truly done;] Surely the argument proves beyond question that not is a misprint for but, and that we should read:

"For that which thou hast sworn to do amiss,
Is but amiss, when it is truly done;

And being not done, where doing tends to ill,
The truth is then most done, not doing it."

b It is religion that doth make vows kept, &c. &c.] In the

folios this passage is exhibited as follows:

"It is religion that doth make vows kept,
But thou hast sworn against religion:

By what thou swear'st against the thing thou swear'st,
And mak'st an oath the surety for thy truth,

Upon my knee I beg, go not to arms Against mine uncle.

CONST.

O, upon my knee,
Made hard with kneeling, I do pray to thee,
Thou virtuous Dauphin, alter not the doom
Fore-thought by heaven.

BLANCH. Now shall I see thy love. What motive may

Be stronger with thee than the name of wife? CONST. That which upholdeth him that thee upholds,

His honour: O, thine honour, Lewis, thine honour!
LEW. I muse your majesty doth seem so cold,
When such profound respects do pull you on.
PAND. I will denounce a curse upon his head.
K. PHI. Thou shalt not need:-England, I
will fall from thee.

CONST. O fair return of banish'd majesty!
ELI. O foul revolt of French inconstancy!
K. JOHN. France, thou shalt rue this hour
within this hour.

BAST. Old Time the clock-setter, that bald sexton, Time,

Is it as he will? well then, France shall rue. BLANCH. The sun's o'ercast with blood: fair

day adieu!

Which is the side that I must go withal?
I am with both each army hath a hand,
And, in their rage, I having hold of both,
They whirl asunder, and dismember me.
Husband, I cannot pray that thou mayst win;
Uncle I needs must pray that thou mayst lose;
Father, I may not wish the fortune thine;
Grandame, 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-valued blood, of France. K. PHI. Thy rage shall burn thee up, and thou shalt turn

Against an oath the truth, thou art unsure To swear, swears only not to be forsworn, Else what a mockery should it be to swear!" &c. There are critics who profess to understand this and similar textual imbroglios of the 1623 edition, which is more than the author himself would do. I venture to suggest the following as a probable reading of the passage in its original form:"It is religion that doth make vows kept, But thou hast sworn against religion:

By that, thou swear'st against the thing thou swear'st,
And mak'st an oath, the surety for thy truth,
Against an oath, the proof thou art unsure.
Who swears swears only not to be forsworn,
Else what a mockery should it be to swear!" &c.

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 tune.
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.
K. JOHN. Good friend, thou hast no cause to
say so yet:

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

"Philip, I make thee chiefe in this affaire,
Ransacke the abbeis, cloysters, priories,
Convert their coyne unto my souldiers use."

b Some better tune.] So the old copies. Pope altered tune to time; perhaps without necessity, for these words were often used, of old, as synonymes.

© Making that idiot, laughter, keep men's eyes,-] From a passage in the "Merchant of Venice," Act I. Sc. 1:

"Some that will evermore peep through their eyes,
And laugh-."

I, at one time, thought keep a misprint of peep, that is, half close, which agrees, too, with the context:

"And strain their cheeks to idle merriment."

I had a thing to say,-but let it go:
The sun is in the heaven, and the proud day,
Attended with the pleasures of the world,
Is all too wanton, and too full of gauds,
To give me audience.-If the midnight bell
Did, with his iron tongue and brazen mouth,
Sound one into the drowsy ear of night; (6)
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 tickling 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 broodeda 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 yon 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?
Thou art his keeper.

HUB.

And I'll keep him so, That he shall not offend your majesty. K. JOHN. Death.

HUB.

K. JOHN.

HUB.

K. JOHN.

My lord!

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.
ELI. My blessing go with thee!

Keep, however, in the sense of occupy, may be right; for Biron, "Love's Labour 's Lost," Act IV. Sc. 3, says :

"Other slow arts entirely keep the brain."

d Then, in despite of brooded watchful day,-] Pope reads broad-eyed, an unobjectionable emendation, if any change were required, for broad-eyed and narrow-eyed are expressions repeatedly to be found in the old writers; but brooded for brooding, in allusion to the vigilance of birds on brood, conveys the very sense intended. So, in Massinger's play of "The City Madam," Act III. Sc. 3:

A whole armado of convicted sail-] Convicted is the word in the old copies; and, as it may have been used in the sense of vanquished, or overpowered, we have not displaced it from the text, although every one admits a preference for convented, the reading adopted by Mr. Singer, and which is found in the margin of Mr. Collier's folio, 1632. Mr. Dyce suggests that the true word may have been convected, from the Latin convectus, but gives no example of its use.

b In so fierce a course,-] The old text has cause. Warburton proposed the change, but oddly enough interpreted course as a march! By course is no doubt meant the carrière of a horse, or

Come, grin on me; and I will think thou smil'st,
And buss thee as thy wife! Misery's love,
O, come to me!

[cry:

K. PHI. O fair affliction, peace! CONST. No, no, I will not, having breath to O, that my tongue were in the thunder's mouth! Then with a passion would I shake the world, And rouse from sleep that fell anatomy, Which cannot hear a lady's feeble voice, Which scorns a modern invocation.

PAND. Lady, you utter madness, and not sorrow.
CONST. Thou art unholy* 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, 'tis 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.

[note

K. PHI. Bind up those tresses: Ó, what love I In the fair multitude of those her hairs! Where but by chance a silver drop hath fall'n, Even to that drop ten thousand wiry friends t Do glue themselves in sociable grief; Like true, inseparable, faithful loves, Sticking together in calamity. CONST. To England, if you will!a K. PHI.

CONST. Yes, that I will.

I do it?

Bind up your hairs. And wherefore will

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.
And, father cardinal, I have heard you say,
That we shall see and know our friends in heaven;
If that be true, I shall see my boy again:
For, since the birth of Cain, the first male child,