Weakness possesseth me, and I am faint.

Even at the crying of your nation's crow,"
Thinking his voice an armed Englishman;-
Shall that victorious hand be feebled here,
That in your chambers gave you chastisement?
No: Know, the gallant monarch is in arms;
And like an eagle o'er his airy towers,t
To souse annoyance that comes near his nest.-
And you degenerate, you ingrate revolts,
You bloody Neros, ripping up the womb
Of your dear mother England, blush for shame:
For your own ladies, and pale-visag'd maids,
Like Amazons, come tripping after drums;
Their thimbles into armed gauntlets change,
Their neeldst to lances, and their gentle hearts
To fierce and bloody inclination.

Lew. There end thy brave, and turn thy face in peace; [well; We grant, thou canst outscold us: fare thee We hold our time too precious to be spent With such a brabbler.

Pand. Give me leave to speak.
Bust. No, I will speak.

Lew. We will attend to neither:-
Strike up the drums; and let the tongue of war
Plead for our interest, and our being here.
Bast. Indeed, your drums, being beaten,
will cry out;

And so shall you, being beaten: Do but start
An echo with the clamour of thy drum,
And even at hand a drum is ready brac'd,
That shall reverberate all as loud as thine;
Sound but another, and another shall,
As loud as thine, rattle the welkin's ear,
And mock the deep-mouth'd thunder: for at

hand

Mess. My lord, your valiant kinsman, Faulconbridge,

Desires your majesty to leave the field;
And send him word by me, which way you go.
K. John. Tell him, toward Swinstead, to the
abbey there.

Mess. Be of good comfort; for the great supply,

That was expected by the Dauphin here, Are wreck'd three nights ago on Goodwin sands. [now: This news was brought to Richard but even The French fight coldly, and retire themselves. K. John. Ah me! this tyrant fever burns me up, And will not let me welcome this good news.Set on toward Swinstead: to my litter straight;

[Exeunt.

Enter SALISBURY, PEMBROKE, BIGOT, und others.

Sal. I did not think the king so stor❜d 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, nath left the field.

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 Unthread the rude eye of rebellion, [sold; 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, Het 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 at Saint Edmund's-Bury; Even on that altar, where we swore to you Dear amity and everlasting love.

Sal. May this be possible? may this be true? Mel. Have I not hideous death within my Which bleeds away, even as a form of wax Retaining but a quantity of life; [view, Resolved 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 of 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 Englishman,-
Awakes my conscience to confess all this.
In lieus whereof, I pray you, bear me hence
From forth the noise and rumour 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.

Sul. We do believe thee,-And beshrew my
But I do love the favour and the form [soul
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,
Stoop low within those bounds we have o'er-
And calmly run on in obedience, [look'd,
Even to our ocean, to our great king John.-
My arm shall give thee help to bear thee hence;
+ Lewis

* A proverb intimating treachery.

↑ In allusion to the images made by witches.
§1'lace.
11 betide.

For I do see the cruel pangs of death [flight;
Right in thine eye.-Away, my friends! New
And happy newness, that intends old right.
[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; [blush, But stay'd, and made the western welking When the English measur'd 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 tatter'd colours clearly up,
Last in the field, and almost lords of it!

Enter a MESSENGER.

Mess. Where is my prince the Dauphin?
Lew. Here:-What news?

Mess. The count Melun is slain; the English lords,

By his persuasion, are again fallen off: [long,
And your supply, which you have wish'd so
Are cast away, and sunk, on Goodwin sands.
Lew. Ah, foul shrewd news!-Beshrew thy
very heart!

I did not think to be so sad to-night,
As this hath made me.-Who was he, that said,
King John did Ay, an hour or two before
The stumbling night did part our weary
powers?

Mess. Whoever spoke it, it is true, my lord.
Lew. Well; keep good quarter, and good

care to-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 Neighbourhood of Swinstead-Abbey.

Enter the BASTARD and HUBERT, meeting. Hub, Who's there? speak, ho! speak quickly, or I shoot.

Bast. A friend :-What art thou?
Hub. 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.

[well:

Hub. Thou hast a perfect thought: I will upon all hazards, well believe Thou art my friend, that know'st my tongue so Who art thou?

Bast. Who thou wilt: an if thou please, Thou may'st befriend me so much, as to think I come one way of the Plantagenets.

Hub. Unkind remembrance! thou, and eyeless night, [me, Have done me shame:-Brave soldier, pardon That any accent, breaking from thy tongue, Should 'scape the true acquaintance of mine

Hub. O, my sweet Sir, news fitting to the night,

Black, fearful, comfortless, and horrible.
Bast. Show me the very wound of this ill
I am no woman, I'll not swoon at it. [news;
Hub. The king, I fear, is poison'd by a monk:
I left him almost speechless, and broke out
To acquaint you with this evil: that you might
The better arm you to the sudden time,
Than if you had at leisure known of this.
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?

Hub. Why, know you not? the lords are all come back,

And brought prince Henry in their company; At whose request the king hath pardon'd them, And they are all about his majesty.

Bast. Withhold thine indignation, mighty heaven,

And tempt us not to bear above our power!I'll tell thee, Hubert, half my power* this night,

Passing these flats, are taken by the tide, These Lincoln washes have devoured them; Myself, well-mounted, hardly have escap'd. I doubt, he will be dead, or ere I come. Away, before! conduct me to the king;

[Exeunt.

should sing.

I am the cygnet to this pale faint swan,
Who chants a doleful hymn to his own death;
And, from the organ-pipe of frailty, sings
His soul and body to their lasting rest.

Sul. Be of good comfort, prince; for you are born

To set a form upon that indigest
Which he hath left so shapeless and so rude.

* Forces.

Re-enter BIGOT and Attendants, who bring in King JOHN in a Chair.

K. John. Ay, marry, now my soul hath elbow-room;

It would not out at windows, nor at doors.
There is so hot a summer in my bosom,
That all my bowels crumble up to dust:
I am a scribbled form, drawn with a pen
Upon a parchment; and against this fire
Do I shrink up.

P. Hen. How fares your majesty?
K.John. Poison'd,-ill-fare;-dead, forsook,

cast off:

And none of you will bid the winter come,
To thrust his icy fingers in my maw;
Nor let my kingdom's rivers take their course
Through my burn'd bosom; nor entreat the
north

To make his bleak winds kiss my parched lips, And comfort me with cold :-I do not ask you much,

I beg cold comfort; and you are so strait,*
And so ingrateful, you deny me that.

P. Hen. O, that there were some virtue in my tears,

That might relieve you!

K. John. The salt in them is hot.-
Within me is a hell; and there the poison
Is, as a fiend, confin'd to tyrannize
On unreprievable condemned blood.

When this was now a king, and now is clay! Bast. Art thou gone so? I do but stay beTo do the office for thee of revenge; [hind, And then my soul shall wait on thee to heaven,

As it on earth hath been thy servant still.Now, now, you stars, that move in your right spheres,

Where be your powers? Show now your mended faiths;

And instantly return with me again,

To push destruction, and perpetual shame, Out of the weak-door of our fainting land: Straight let us seek, or straight we shall be sought;

The Dauphin rages at our very heels.

Sal. It seems, you know not then so much

as we:

The cardinal Pandulph is within at rest, Who half an hour since came from the Dauphin ;

And brings from him such offers of our peace As we with honour and respect may take, With purpose presently to leave this war.

Bust. He will the rather do it, when he sees Ourselves well sinewed to our defence.

Sal. Nay, it is in a manner done already; For many carriages he hath despatch'd To the seaside, and put his cause and quarrel To the disposing of the cardinal: With whom yourself, myself, and other lords, If you think meet, this afternoon will post To cónsummate this business happily.

Bast. Let it be so;-And you, my noble With other princes that may best be spar'd, prince, Shall wait upon your father's funeral.

P. Hen. At Worcester must his body be inFor so he will'd it. [terr'd;

Bast. Thither shall it then,
And happily may your sweet self put on
The lineal state and glory of the land!
To whom, with all submission, on my knee,
I do bequeath my faithful services
And true subjection everlastingly.

To rest without a spot for evermore.
Sul. And the like tender of our love we
[make,
P. Hen. I have a kind soul, that would give

you thanks,

And knows not how to do it, but with tears. Bast. O, let us pay the time but needful