DICKS’ STAN 
 
 WILLIAM SHAKSPERE. 
 
 NEW AND COMPLETE EDITION-PRICE ONE PENNY. 
 
 LONDON: J. DICKS, 313, STRAND ALL BOOKSELLERS. 
 
Tice Threepence; post-free, One Penny extra, 
 
 AND 
 
 GUIDE TO THE STAGE FOR 
 
 BY THE OLD STAGER, 
 
 This Guide-Book contains Important 
 
 HOW TO STUDY. 
 
 HOW TO BEAD. 
 
 HOW TO DECLAIM. 
 
 HOW TO IMPROVE THE VOICE. 
 
 HOW TO MEMOEIZE. 
 
 HOW TO MAKE UP THE FIGURE. 
 HOW TO MAKE UP THE FACE. 
 
 HOW TO TEEAD THE STAGE. 
 
 Hints upon the following Subjects s 
 
 HOW TO MANAGE THE HANDS. 
 HOW TO EXPEESS THE VARIOUS 
 PASSIONS AND EMOTIONS. 
 HOW TO DO BYE-PLAY. 
 
 HOW TO COMPORT YOURSELF AS A 1 
 LADY OR GENTLEMAN. 
 
 HOW TO OBTAIN AN ENGAGE¬ 
 MENT. 
 
 Extract from the Preface of the Work :— <e There are certain difficulties that are 
 inseparable f<om the earliest phases of the dramatic art. There are others that arise 
 chiefly, if not solely, from the want of practical information, arranged in proper order, and 
 conveyed with due simplicity and clearness of definition. Such difficulties neces arily 
 result in a greater or less degree of disappontment to those who are candidates for dramatic 
 honours ; and not unfre uently lead to the abandonment, almost without actual trial, of 
 the profession of the stage by those who might, if properly directed, have come to be 
 reckoned among its chief ornaments. -j 
 
 “ It the purpose of the following pages to remove, where possible, and in all cases to 
 lessen just such difficult! s, by furnishing a ready reference to information which shall 
 smooth the way for the more resolute, and, at the same time, encourage the desponding to 
 persejlp.” 
 
 London: John Dicks, 313, Strand. All Booksellers- 
 
» 
 
 KING JOHN. 
 
 K jKOJ.HTATlO 1 
 
KING JOHN 
 
 \ 
 
 [ 
 
 Arthur .—“ Will you put out mine eyes?”— Act iv, scene 1. 
 
 persons ^qjresenlei). 
 
 Kino John. 
 
 Prince Henry, fits Son; afterwards King Henry 
 III. 
 
 Arthur, Duke of Bretagne , Son of Geffrey , late 
 Duke of Bretagne, the elder Brother of King 
 John. 
 
 William Mareshall, Earl of Pembroke. 
 
 Geffrey Fitz-Peter, Earl of Essex, Chief Justiciary 
 of England. 
 
 William Longsword, Earl of Salisbury. 
 
 Robert Bigot, Earl of Norfolk. 
 
 Hubert de Burgh, Chamberlain to the King . 
 
 Robert Faulconbridge, Son of Sir Robert Paul - 
 conbridge. 
 
 Philip Faulconbridge, his half brother, bastard 
 Son to King Richard the First. 
 
 James Gurney, Servant to Lady Faulconbridge. 
 
 Peter of Pomfret, a Prophet. 
 
 Philip, King of France. 
 
 Lewis, the Dauphin. 
 
 Archduke of Austria. 
 
 Cardinal Pandulph, the Pope's Legate. 
 
 Melun, a Frenh Lord. 
 
 Chatillon, Ambassador from France to King 
 John. 
 
 Elinor, the Widow of King Henry II. and Mother of 
 King John. 
 
 Constance, Mother to Arthur. 
 
 Blanch, Daughter to Alphonso, King of Castile, and 
 Niece to King John. 
 
 Lady Faulconbridge, Mother to the Bastard and 
 Robert Faulconbridge. 
 
 Lords , Ladies, Citizens of Angiers, Sheriff Her « 
 aids. Officers, Soldiers, Messengers, and other At¬ 
 tendants. 
 
 Scene Sometimes in England, and sometimes in Franc 4 
 
KING 
 
 ACT I. 
 
 SCENE L — Northampton. A Room of State in the 
 Palace. 
 
 Enter KING JOHN, QUEEN ELINOR, 
 
 PEMBROKE, ESSEX, SALISBURY, and others , 
 with CHATILLON. 
 
 King John. Now, say, Chatillon, what would 
 France with us ? 
 
 Chat. Thus, after greeting, speaks the king of 
 France, 
 
 In my behaviour, to the majesty, 
 
 The borrow’d majesty of England here. 
 
 Eli. A strange beginning,—borrow’d majesty! 
 
 K. John. Silence, good mother; hear the em¬ 
 bassy. 
 
 Chat. Philip of France, in right and true behalf 
 Of thy deceased brother Geffrey’s son, 
 
 Arthur Plantagenet. lays most lawful claim 
 To this fair island and the territories; 
 
 To Ireland, Poictiers, Anjou, Touraine, Maine: 
 Desiring thee to lay aside thy sword. 
 
 Which sways usurpingly these several titles; 
 
 And put the same into young Arthur’s hand, 
 
 Thy nephew, and right royal sovereign. 
 
 K. John. What follows, if we disallow of this? 
 Chat. The proud control of fierce and bloody 
 war, 
 
 To enforce these rights, so forcibly withho’d. 
 
 K. John. Here have we war for war, and blood 
 for blood, 
 
 Controlment for controlment: so answer France. 
 Chat. Then take my king’s defiance from my 
 mouth, 
 
 The farthest limit of my embassy. 
 
 K. John. Bear mine to him, and so depart in 
 peace: 
 
 Be thou as lightning in the eyes of France; 
 
 For ere thou canst report I will be there, 
 
 The thunder of my cannon shall be heard: 
 
 So, hence I Be thou the trumpet of our wrath, 
 
 And sullen presage of your own decay.— 
 
 An honourable conduct let him have :— 
 
 Pembroke, look to’t.—Farewell, Chatillon. 
 
 \ Exeunt Chatillon and Pembroke. 
 Eli. What now, my son? have I not ever said, 
 Kow that ambitious Constance would not cease. 
 
 Till she had kindled France, and all the world, 
 Upon the right and party of her son ? 
 
 This might have been prevented, and made whole, 
 With very easy arguments of love; 
 
 Which now the manage of two kingdoms must 
 With fearful bloody issue arbitrate. 
 
 K. John. Our strong possession, and our right, 
 for us. 
 
 Eli. Your strong possession, much more than 
 your right: 
 
 Or else it must go wrong with you and me : 
 
 So much my conscience whispers in your ear; 
 Which none but heaven, and you, and I, shall 
 hear. 
 
 Enter the Sheriff of Northamptonshire , who whispers 
 Eisex. 
 
 Essex. My liege, here is the strangest contro¬ 
 versy. 
 
 Come from the country to be judged by you, 
 
 That e’er I heard: shall I produce the men? 
 
 K. John. Let them approach.— 
 
 [Exit Sheriff. 
 
 Our Abbeys, and our priories, shall pay 
 
 JOHN. 529 
 
 | Re-enter Sheriff , with ROBERT FAULCONBRIDGE, 
 and PHILIP, his bastard Brother. 
 
 This expedition’s charge.—What men are you? 
 
 Bast. Your faithful subject I, a gentleman. 
 
 Born in Northamptonshire; and eldest son, 
 
 As I suppose, to Robert Faulconbridge ; 
 
 A soldier, bv the honour-giving hand. 
 
 Of Cceur-de-lion knighted in the field. 
 
 K. John. What art thou ? 
 
 Rob. The son and heir to that same Faulcon¬ 
 bridge. 
 
 K. John. Is that the elder, and art thou the 
 heir? 
 
 You came not of one mother, then, it seems. 
 
 Bast. Most certain of one mother, mighty king, 
 That is well known; and, as I think, one father 
 But, for the certain knowledge of that truth, 
 
 I put you o’er to Heaven, and to my mother: 
 
 Of that I doubt, as all men’s children may. 
 
 Eli. Out on thee, rude man! thou dost shame thy 
 mother, 
 
 And wound her honour with this diffidence. 
 
 Bast. I, madam ? no, I have no reason for it; 
 That is my brother’s plea, and none of mine; 
 
 The which if he can prove, ’a pops me out 
 At least from fair five hundred pounds a-year: 
 Heaven gua^l my mother’s honour, and my land! 
 K. John. A good blunt fellow. — Why, being 
 younger born, 
 
 Doth he lay claim to thine inheritance ? 
 
 Bast. I know not why, except to get the land. 
 
 But once he slander’d me with bastardy; 
 
 But whe’r I be as true begot or no, 
 
 That still I lay upon my mother’s head; 
 
 But, that I am as well begot, my liege, 
 
 (Fair fall the bones that took the pains for me I) 
 Compare our faces, and be judge yourself. 
 
 If old Sir Robert did beget us both. 
 
 And were our father, and this son like him; 
 
 O old Sir Robert, father, on my knee 
 I give Heaven thanks, I was not like to thee. 
 
 K , John. Why, what a madcap hath Heaven lent 
 us here? 
 
 Eli. He hath a trick of Cour-de-lion’s face, 
 
 The accent of his tongue affecteth him: 
 
 Do you not road some tokens of my son 
 In the large composition of this man ? 
 
 K. John. Mine eye hath well examined his parts. 
 And find them perfect Richard.—Sirrah, speak, 
 What doth move you to claim your brother’s land? 
 
 Bast. Because he hath a half-face like my father; 
 With that half-face would he have my land; 
 
 A half-face groat five hundred pounds a-year! 
 
 Rob. My gracious liege, when that my fathei 
 lived, 
 
 Your brother did employ my father much ;— 
 
 Bast. WeP, sir, by this you cannot get ray 
 land; 
 
 Your tale must be, how he employed my mother. 
 
 Rob. And once despatch’d him in an embassy 
 To Germany, there, with the emperor. 
 
 To treat of high affairs touching that time; 
 
 The advantage of his absence took the king. 
 
 And in the meantime sojourn’d at my father’s; 
 Where how he did prevail, I shame to speak: 
 
 But truth is truth; large lengths of seas and 
 shores 
 
 Between my father and my mother lay, 
 
 (As I have heard my father speak himself,) 
 
 When this same lusty gentleman was got. 
 
 Upon his death-bed he by will bequeath'd 
 His lands to me • and took it, on his death, 
 
530 KING 
 
 That this, my mother’s son, was none of his; 
 
 And, if he were, he came into the world 
 Full fourteen weeks before the course of time, 
 Then, good my liege, let me have what is mine, 
 
 My father’s land, as was my father’s will. 
 
 K. John. Sirrah, your brother is legitimate; 
 
 Your father’s wife did after wedlock bear him: 
 And, if she did play false, the fault was hers; 
 Which fault lies on the hazards of all husbands, 
 That marry wives. Tell me, how if my brother, 
 Who, as you say, took pains to get this son, 
 
 Had of your father claim’d this son for his ? 
 
 In sooth, good friend, your father might have 
 kept 
 
 This calf, bred from his cow, from all the world; 
 In sooth, he might: then, if he were my 
 brother’s. 
 
 My brother might not claim him; nor your 
 father, 
 
 B£ing none of his, refuse him. This con¬ 
 cludes,— 
 
 My mother’s son did get your father’s heir; 
 
 Your father’s heir must have your father’s land. 
 
 Bob. Shall then my father’s will be of no force, 
 To dispossess that child, which is not his ? 
 
 Bast. Of no more force to dispossess me, sir, 
 
 Than was his will to get me, as I think. 
 
 Eli. Whether hadst thou rather,—be a Faulcon- 
 bridge, 
 
 And like thy brother, to enjoy thy land; 
 
 Or the reputed son of Cceur-de-lion, 
 
 Lord of thy presence, and no land beside? 
 
 Bast. Madam, an if my brother had my shape, 
 And I had his, Sir Robert his, like him : 
 
 And if my legs were two such riding-rods, 
 
 My arms such eel-skins stuff’d; my face so thin, 
 That in mine ear I durst not stick a rose, 
 
 Lest men should say, Look, there three-farthings 
 goes! 
 
 And, to his shape, were heir to all this land, 
 
 ’Would I might never stir from off this place, 
 
 I’d give it every foot to have this face ; 
 
 I would not be Sir Nob in any case. 
 
 Eli. I like thee welL Wilt thou forsake thy 
 fortune. 
 
 Bequeath thy land to him and follow me ? 
 
 I am a soldier, and now bound to France. 
 
 Bast. Brother, take you my land, I’ll take my 
 chance: 
 
 Your face hath got five hundred pounds o-year; 
 
 Yet sell your face for five-pence and ’tis dear,— 
 Madam, I’ll follow you unto the death. 
 
 Eli . Nay, I would have you go before me 
 thither. 
 
 Bast. Our country manners give our betters 
 way. 
 
 K. John. What is thy name? 
 
 Bast. Philip, my liege; so is my name begun; 
 Philip, good old Sir hobert’s wife’s eldest son. 
 
 K. John. From henceforth bear his name whose 
 form thou bear’st; 
 
 Kneel theu down Philip, but arise more great; 
 
 Arise Sir Richard, and Plantagenet. 
 
 Bast. Brother, by the mother’s side, give me your 
 hand; 
 
 My father gave me honour, yours gave land:— 
 
 N ow blessed be the hour, by night or day, 
 
 When I was got, Sir Robert was away. 
 
 Eli. The very spirit of Plantagenet!— 
 
 I am thy grandame, Richard; call me so. 
 
 Bast. Madam, by chance, but not by truth: What 
 though ? 
 
 JOHN. 
 
 Something about, a little from the right, 
 
 In at the window, or else o er the hatch: 
 
 Who dares not stir by day, must walk by night; 
 
 And have is have, however men do catch: 
 
 Near or far off, well won is still well shot; 
 
 And I am I, howe’er I was begot. 
 
 K. John. Go, Faulconbridge; now hast thou thy 
 desire, 
 
 A landless knight makes thee a landed ’squire.— 
 Come, madam, and come, Richard; we mus) 
 speed 
 
 For France, for France; for it is more than 
 need. 
 
 Bast. Brother, adieu: Good fortune come tc 
 thee! 
 
 For thou wast got i’ the way of honesty. 
 
 [Exeunt all but the Bastard L 
 A foot of honour better tb an I was; 
 
 But many a many foot of land the worse. 
 
 Well, now can I make any Joan a lady:—— 
 
 Good den , Sir Richard ,— Godra-mercy , fellow 
 And if his name be George, I’ll call him Peter: 
 
 For new-made honour doth forget men’s names; 
 ’Tis too respective, and too sociable, 
 
 For your conversing. Now your traveller,— 
 
 He and his tooth-pick at my worship’s mess: 
 
 And when my knightly stomach is sufficed, 
 
 Why then I suck my teeth, and catechise 
 
 My picked man of counties:- My dear sir, 
 
 (Thus, leaning on mine elbow, I begin,) 
 
 I shall beseech you —That is question now. 
 
 And then comes answer like an ABC-book :— 
 
 0, sir , says answer, at your best comman t; 
 
 At your employment; at your service , sir - 
 
 No, sir , says question, /, sweet sir , at yours: 
 
 And so, ere answer knows what question would, 
 (Saving in dialogue of compliment; 
 
 And talking of the Alps and Apennines, 
 
 The Pyrenean, and the river Po,) 
 
 It draws toward supper in conclusion so. 
 
 But this is worshipful society, 
 
 And fits the mounting spirit, like myself; 
 
 For he is but a bastard to the time, 
 
 That doth not smack of observation; 
 
 (And so am I, whether I smack, or no;) 
 
 And not alone in habit and device, 
 
 Exterior form, outward accoutrement; 
 
 But from the inward motion to deliver 
 Sweet, sweet, sweet poison for the age’s tooth: 
 Which, though I will not practise to deceive, 
 
 Yet, to avoid deceit, I mean to learn; 
 
 For I shall strew the footsteps of my rising.— 
 
 But who comes in such haste in riding robes ? 
 
 What woman-post is this ? hath she no husband, 
 That will take pains to blow a horn before her ? 
 
 Enter LADY FAULCONBRIDGE, and JAMES 
 GURNEY. 
 
 O me! it is my mother.—How now, good lady? 
 What brings you here to court so hastily ? 
 
 Lady F. Where is that slave, thy brother? where 
 is he? 
 
 That holds in chase mine honour up and down ? 
 
 Bast. My brother Robert? old Sir Robert’s son? 
 Colbrand, the giant, that same mighty man ? 
 
 Is it Sir Robert’s son, that you seek so ? 
 
 Lady F. Sir Robert’s son 1 Ay, thou unreverend 
 boy, 
 
 Sir Robert’s son: Why scorn’st thou at Sir Robert ? 
 He is Sir Robert’s son; and so art thou. 
 
 Bast. James Gurney, wilt thou give us leave a 
 while ? 
 
KING 
 
 Our. Good leave, good Philip. 
 
 Bast. Philip ?—sparrow!—James, 
 
 There’s toys abroad; anon I’ll tell thee more. 
 
 [Exit Gurney. 
 
 Madam, I was not old Sir "Robert’s son; 
 
 Sir Robert might have eat his part in me 
 Upon Good-Friday, and ne’er broke his fast: 
 
 Sir Robert could do well: Marry, (to confess!) 
 Could he get me ? Sir Robert could not do it; 
 
 We know his handy-work:—Therefore, good 
 mother, 
 
 To whom am 1 beholden for these limbs? 
 
 Sir Robert never holp to make this leg. 
 
 Lady F. Hast thou conspired with thy brother 
 too, 
 
 That for thine own gain shouldst defend mine 
 honour ? 
 
 Whatmeansthis scorn, thou most untoward knave ? 
 Bast. Knight, knight, good mother,—Basilisco- 
 like: 
 
 What! I am dubb d; I have it on my shoulder. 
 
 But, mother, I am not Sir Robert’s son; 
 
 I have disclaim’d Sir Robert, and my land; 
 Legitimation, name, and all is gone ; 
 
 Then, good my mother, let me know my father; 
 Some proper man, I hope: Who was it, mother ? 
 Lady F. Hast thou denied thyself a Faulcon- 
 bridge ? 
 
 Bast. As faithfully as I deny the devil. 
 
 Lady F. King Richard Cceur-de-Lion was thy 
 father: 
 
 By long and vehement suit I was seduced 
 
 To make room for him in my husband’s bed :- 
 
 Heaven lay not my transgression to my charge:- 
 
 Thou art the issue of my dear offence, 
 
 Which was so strongly urged, past my defence. 
 
 Bast. Now, by this light, were I to get again, 
 Madam, I would not wish a better father. 
 
 Some sins do bear their privilege on earth, 
 
 And so doth yours; your fault was not your folly: 
 Needs must you lay your heart at his dispose,— 
 Subjected tribute to commanding love,— 
 
 Against whose fury and unmatched force 
 The awless lion could not wage the fight, 
 
 Nor keep his princely heart from Richard’s hand. 
 He, that perforce robs lions of their hearts, 
 
 May easily win a woman’s. Ay, my mother, 
 
 With all my heart I thank thee for my father! 
 
 Who lives and dares but say, thou didst not well 
 When I was got, I’ll send his soul to helL 
 Come, lady, I will shew thee to my kin; 
 
 And they shall say, when Richard me begot, 
 
 If thou hadst said him nay, it had been sin: 
 
 Who says it was, he lies; I say, ’twas not. 
 
 lExeunt. 
 
 ACT IL 
 
 SCENE T.— France. Before the Walls of Angiers. 
 
 Enter, on one side , the ARCHDUKE of AUSTRIA, 
 and Forces ; on ihe other , PHILIP, King of France, 
 and Forces ; LEWIS, CONSTANCE, ARTHUR, 
 and Attendants. 
 
 Lew. Before Angiers well met, brave Austria.— 
 Arthur, that great forerunner of thy blood, 
 
 Richard, that robb’d the lion of his heart, 
 
 And fought the holy wars in Palestine, 
 
 By this brave duke came early to his grave: 
 
 And, for amends to his posterity, 
 
 At our importance hither is he come, 
 
 To spread his colours, boy, in thy behalf; 
 
 JOHN. 531 
 
 And to rebuke the usurpation 
 
 Of thy unnatural uncle, English John: 
 
 Embrace him, love him, give him welcome hither. 
 Arth. God shall forgive you Cceur-de-lion'a 
 death, 
 
 The rather, that you give his offspring life, 
 Shadowing their right under your wings of war: 
 
 I give you welcome with a powerless hand, 
 
 But with a heart full of unstained love: 
 
 Welcome before the gates of Angiers, duke. 
 
 Lew . A noble boy 1 Who would not do thee 
 right ? 
 
 Aust. Upon thy cheek lay I this zealous kiss, 
 
 A s seal to this indenture of my love; 
 
 That to my home I will no more return, 
 
 Till Angiers, and the right thou hast in France, 
 Together with that pale, that white-faced shore, 
 Whose foot spurns back the ocean’s roaring tides, 
 And coops from other lands her islanders, 
 
 Even till that England, hedged ip with the mam, 
 That water-walled bulwark, still secure 
 And confident from foreign purposes, 
 
 Even till that utmost corner of the west 
 Salute thee for her king: till then, fair boy, 
 
 Will I not think of home, but follow arms. 
 
 Const. O, take his mother’s thanks, a widow’s- 
 thanks, 
 
 Till your strong hand shall help to give him- 
 strength, 
 
 To make a more requital to your love. 
 
 Aust. The peace of Heaven is theirs, That lift 
 their swords 
 
 In such a just and charitable war, 
 
 K. Phi. Well then, to work; our cannon shall be, 
 bent 
 
 Against the brows of this resisting town.— 
 
 Call for our chiefest men of discipline, 
 
 To cull the plots of best advantages : 
 
 We’ll lay before this town our royal bones, 
 
 Wade to the market-place in Frenchmen's blood, 
 But we will make it subject to this boy. 
 
 Const. Stay for an answer to your embassy, 
 
 Lest unadvised you stain your swords with blood: 
 My lord Chatillon may from England bring 
 That right in peace, which here we urge in war;. 
 And then we shall repent each drop of blood* 
 
 That hot rash haste so indirectly shed. 
 
 Enter CHATILLON. 
 
 K. Phi. A wonder, lady!—lo, upon thy wislv 
 Our messenger Chatillon is arrived.— 
 
 What England says, say briefly, gentle lord. 
 
 We coldly pause for thee ; Chatillon, speak. 
 
 Chat. Then turn your forces from this paltry- 
 siege, 
 
 And stir them up against a mightier task. 
 
 England, impatient of your just demands. 
 
 Hath put himself in arms; the adverse winds, 
 Whose leisure I have staid, have given him time 
 To land his legions all as soon as I: 
 
 His marches are expedient to this town, 
 
 His forces strong, his soldiers confident. 
 
 With him is come along the mother-queen, 
 
 An Ate, stirring him to blood and strife; 
 
 With her her niece, the lady Blanch of Spain; 
 
 With them a bastard of the king deceased: 
 
 And all the unsettled humours of the land,— 
 
 Rash, inconsiderate, fiery voluntaries, 
 
 With ladies’ faces, and fierce dragons’ spleens, 
 Have sold their fortunes at their native homes, 
 Bearing their birthrights proudly on their backs; 
 
 To make a hazard of new fortunes here. 
 
532 KING 
 
 In brief, a braver choice of dauntless spirits. 
 
 Than now the English bottoms have waft o’er, 
 
 Did never float upon the swelling tide. 
 
 To do offence and scath in Christendom. 
 
 The interruption of their churlish drums 
 
 (Drums beat.) 
 
 Cuts off more circumstance: they are at hand, 
 
 To parley, or to fight; therefore, prepare. 
 
 K. Phi. How much unlook’d for is this expedi¬ 
 tion! 
 
 Aus. By how much unexpected, by so much 
 We must awake endeavour for defence ; 
 
 For courage mounteth with occasion : 
 
 Let them be welcome then, we are prepared 
 
 Enter KING JOHN, ELINOR, BLANCH, the 
 Bastard , PEMBROKE, and Forces. 
 
 K John. Peace be to France, if France in peace 
 permit 
 
 Our just and lineal entrance to our own! 
 
 If not, bleed France, and peace ascend to heaven! 
 Whiles we, God’s wrathful agent, do correct 
 Their proud contempt that beat his peace to 
 heaven. 
 
 K. Phi. Peace be to England, if that war re¬ 
 turn 
 
 From France to England there to live in peace! 
 England we love ; and, for that England's sake, 
 With burden of our armour here we sweat: 
 
 This toil of ours should be a work of thine ; 
 
 But thou from loving England art so far, 
 
 That thou hast under-wrought his lawful king 
 Cut off the sequence of posterity, 
 
 Outfaced infant state, and done a rape 
 Upon the maiden virtue of the crown. 
 
 Look here upon thy brother Geffrey’s face 
 These eyes, these brows, were moulded out of 
 his: 
 
 This little abstract doth contain that large. 
 
 Which died in Geffrey; and the hand of time 
 Shall draw this brief into as huge a volume. 
 
 That Geffrey was thy elder brother born, 
 
 And this his son; England was Geffrey’s right, 
 
 And this is Geffrey’s: In the name of God, 
 
 How comes it then, that thou art call'd a king, 
 When living blood doth in these temples beat, 
 Which owe the crown that thou o’ermasterest ? 
 
 K. John. From whom hast thou this great com¬ 
 mission, France, 
 
 To draw my answer from thy articles ? 
 
 K. Phi. From that supernal Judge, that stirs good 
 thoughts 
 
 In any breast of strong authority, 
 
 To look into the blots and stains of right. 
 
 That Judge hath made me guardian to this boy: 
 Under whose warrant I impeach thy wrong ; 
 
 And, by whose help, I mean to chastise it. 
 
 K. John. Alack, thou dost usurp authority. 
 
 K. Phi. Excuse ; it is to beat usurping down. 
 
 Eli. Who is it, thou dost call usurper, France ? 
 Const. Let me make answer,—thy usurping son. 
 Eli. Out, insolent! thy bastard shall be king; 
 That thou may’st be a queen, and check the 
 world ! 
 
 Const. My bed was ever to thy son as true, 
 
 As thine was to thy husband: and this boy 
 Liker in feature to his father Geffrey, 
 
 Than thou and John in manners ; being as liko, 
 
 As rain to water, or devil to his dam. 
 
 My boy a bastard! By my soul, I think, 
 
 His father never was so true begot ; 
 
 It cannot be, an if thou wert his mother. 
 
 JOHN. 
 
 Eli. There’s a good mother, boy, that blots thy 
 father. 
 
 Const. There’s a good grandam, boy, that would 
 blot thee. 
 
 Avst. Peace! 
 
 Bast. Hear the crier. 
 
 Aust. What the devil art thou ? 
 
 Bast. One that will play the devil, sir, with 
 you, 
 
 An ’a may catch your hide and you alone. 
 
 You are the hare of whom the proverb goes, 
 
 Whose valour plucks dead lions by the beard; 
 
 I’ll smoke your skin-coat, an I catch you right; 
 Sirrah, look to’t; i’faith, I will, i’faith. 
 
 Blanch. O, well did he become that lion s robe, 
 That did disrobe the lion of that robe ! 
 
 Bast. It lies as sightly on the back of him, 
 
 As great Alcides’ shoes upon an ass : 
 
 But, ass, I’ll take that burden from your back ; 
 
 Or lay on that shall make your shoulders crack. 
 
 A ust. What cracker is this same that deal’s our 
 ears 
 
 With this abundance of superfluous breath ? 
 
 K. Phi. Lewis, determine what we shall do 
 straight. 
 
 Lew. Women and fools, break off your confe¬ 
 rence. 
 
 King John, this is the very sum of all,*— 
 
 England and Ireland, Anjou, Touraine, Maine, 
 
 In right of Arthur do I claim of thee : 
 
 Wilt thou resign them, and lay down thy arms ? 
 
 K . John. My life as :soon:—I do defy thee, 
 France, 
 
 Arthur of Bretagne, yield thee to my hand ; 
 
 And, out of my dear love, I’ll give thee more 
 Than e’er the coward hand of France can win: 
 Submit thee, boy. 
 
 Eli. Come to thy grandam, child, 
 
 Const. Do, child, go to it’ grandam, child; 
 
 Give grandam kingdom, and it’ grandam will 
 Give it a plum, a cherry, and a fig; 
 
 There’s a good grandam. 
 
 Arth. Good my mother, peace! 
 
 I would, that I were laid low in my grave; 
 
 I am not worth this coil that’s made for me. 
 
 Eli. His mother shames him so, poor boy, he 
 weeps. 
 
 Const. Now shame upon you, whe’r she does or 
 no! 
 
 His grandam’s wrongs, and not his mother’s 
 shames, 
 
 Draw those Heaven-moving pearls from his poor 
 eyes, 
 
 Which Heaven shall take in nature of a fee; 
 
 Ay, with these crystal beads Heaven shall be 
 bribed 
 
 To do him justice, and revenge on you. 
 
 Eli. Thou monstrous slanderer of heaven and 
 earth! 
 
 Const. Thou monstrous injurer of heaven and 
 earth! 
 
 Call not me slanderer; thou and thine usurp 
 The dominations, royalties, and rights, 
 
 Of this oppress’d boy: This is toy eldest son’s 
 son, 
 
 Infortunate in nothing but in thee; 
 
 Thy sins are visited in this poor child; 
 
 The canon of the law is laid on him, 
 
 Being but the second generation 
 Removed from thy sin-conceiving womb, 
 
 K. John. Bedlam, have done. 
 
 Const. I have but this to say,— 
 
KING 
 
 That he’e not only plagued for her sin. 
 
 But God hath made her sin and her the plague 
 On this removed issue, plagued for her, 
 
 And with her plague ; her sin his injury, 
 
 Her injury the beadle to tier sin; 
 
 All punish’d in the person of this child, 
 
 And all for her,—a plague upon her! 
 
 Eli. Thou unadvised scold, I can produce 
 A will, that bars the title of thy son. 
 
 Const. Ay, who doubts that ? a will I a wicked 
 will; 
 
 A woman’s will; a canker’d grandam’s will I 
 K. Phi. Peace, lady: pause, or be more tem¬ 
 perate : 
 
 It ill beseems this presence, to cry aim 
 To these ill-tuned repetitions. 
 
 Some trumpet summon hither to the walls 
 These men of Angiers; let us hear them speak, 
 Whose title they admit, Arthur’s or John’s. 
 Tt'umpets sound. Enter Citizens upon the walls. 
 
 1 Cit. Who is it that hath warned us to the 
 walls? 
 
 K. Phi. ’Tis France, for England. 
 
 K. John. England, for itself: 
 
 You men of Angiers, and my loving subjects,— 
 
 K. Phi. You loving men of Angieis, Arthur’s 
 subjects, 
 
 Our trumpet call’d you to this gentle parle. 
 
 K. John. For our advantage:—Therefore, hear us 
 first.- 
 
 These flags of France, that are advanced here 
 Before the eye and prospect of your town, 
 
 Have hither march’d to your endamagement: 
 
 The cannons have their bowels full of wrath; 
 
 And ready mounted are they, to spit forth 
 Their iron indignation ’gainst your walls: 
 
 All preparation for a bloody siege, 
 
 And merciless proceeding by these French, 
 Confront your city’s eyes, your winking gates; 
 And, but for our approach, these sleeping stones, 
 That as a waist do girdle you about, 
 
 By the compulsion of their ordnance, 
 
 By this time from their fixed beds of lime 
 Bad been dishabited, and wide havock mad© 
 
 For bloody power to rush upon your peace. 
 
 But, on the sight of us, your lawful king,— 
 
 Who painfully, with much expedient march, 
 
 Have brought a countercheck before your gates. 
 
 To save unscratch’d your city’s threaten’d 
 cheeks,— 
 
 Behold, the French, amazed, vouchsafe a parle: 
 And now, instead of bullets wrapp’d in fire, 
 
 To make a shaking fever in your walls, 
 
 They shoot but calm words, folded up in smoke, 
 
 To make a faithless error in your ears : 
 
 Which trust accordingly, kind citizens, 
 
 And let us in, your king; whose labour’d spirits, 
 Forwearied in this action of swift speed, 
 
 Crave harbourage within your city walls. 
 
 K . Phi. When I have said, make answer to us 
 both. 
 
 Lo, in this right hand, whose protection 
 Is most divinely vow’d upon the right 
 Of him it holds, stands young Plantagenet; 
 
 Son to the elder brother of this man, 
 
 And king o’er him, and all that he enjoys: 
 
 For this down-trodden equity, we tread 
 In warlike march these greens before your town: 
 Being no farther enemy to you, 
 
 Than the constraint of hospitable zeal, 
 
 In the relief of this oppressed child, 
 
 Religiously provokes. Be pleased, then, 
 
 JOHN. 533 
 
 To pay that duty, which you truly owe, 
 
 To him that owes it; namely, this young prince: 
 And then our arms, like to a muzzled bear, 
 
 Save the aspect, have all offence seal’d up|; 
 
 Our cannons’ malice vainly shall be spent 
 Against the invulnerable clouds of heaven; 
 
 And, with a blessed and unvex’d retire, 
 
 With unhack’d swords, and helmets all unbruised. 
 We will bear home that lusty blood again, 
 
 Which here we came to spout against your town, 
 And leave your children, wives, and you, in peace. 
 But if you fondly pass our proffer’d offer, 
 
 ’Tis not the roundure of your old-faced walls 
 Can hide you from our messengers of war; 
 
 Though all these English and their discipline, 
 
 Were harbour’d in their rude circumference. 
 
 Then, tell us, shall your city call us lord, 
 
 In that behalf, which we have challenged it? 
 
 Or shall we give the signal to our rage, 
 
 And stalk in blood to our possession ? 
 
 1 Cit. In brief, we are the king of England’s sub¬ 
 jects ; 
 
 For him, and in his right, we hold this town. 
 
 K. John. Acknowledge then the king, and let me 
 in. 
 
 1 Cit. That can we not: but he, that proves the 
 king, 
 
 To him will we prove loyal; till that time, 
 
 Have we rammed up our gates against the world. 
 K. John. Doth not the crown of England prove 
 the king ? 
 
 And if not that, I bring you witnesses, 
 
 Twice fifteen thousand hearts of England’s breed,— 
 East. Bastards, and else. 
 
 K. John. To verify our title with their lives. 
 
 K. Phi. As many, and as well-born bloods as 
 those,- 
 
 Bast. Some bastards too. 
 
 K. Phi. Stand in his face, to contradict his claim. 
 1 Cit. Till you compound whose right is 
 worthiest, 
 
 We, for the worthiest, hold the right from both. 
 
 K. John. Then God forgive the sin of all those 
 souls, 
 
 That to their everlasting residence, 
 
 Before the dew of evening fall, shall fleet, 
 
 In dreadful trial of our kingdom’s king 1 
 K. Phi. Amen, Amen!—Mount, chevaliers; to 
 arms! 
 
 Bast. St George,—that swing’d the dragon, and 
 e’er since, 
 
 Sits on his horseback at mine hostess’ door, 
 
 Teach us some fence!—Sirrah, were I at home, 
 
 At your den, sirrah, (to Austria) with your lioness* 
 I’d set an ox-head to your lion’s hide, 
 
 And make a monster of you. 
 
 Aust. Peace; no more. 
 
 Bast. O, tremble; for you hear the lion roar. 
 
 K. John. Up higher to the plain; where we ’ll 
 set forth, 
 
 In best appointment, all our regiments. 
 
 Bast. Speed then, to take advantage of the field 
 K. Phi. It shall be so \—(to Lewis) and at the 
 other hill 
 
 Command the rest to stand.—God, and our right ! 
 
 [Exeunt. 
 
 SCENE II.—77ie same. 
 
 Alarums and Excursions; then a Retreat. Enter a 
 French Herald , with trumpets to the gates. 
 
 F. Her. You men of Angiers, oper wide your 
 gates, 
 
5£4 KING 
 
 And let young Arthur, dulre of Bretagne, in; 
 
 Who, by the hand of France, this day hath made 
 Much work for tears in many an English mother, 
 Whose sons lie scatter’d on the bleeding ground; 
 Many a widow’s husband grovelling lies, 
 
 Coldly embracing the discoloured earth; 
 
 And victory, with little loss, doth play 
 Upon the dancing banners of the French; 
 
 Who are at hand, triumphantly display’d. 
 
 To enter conquerors, and to proclaim 
 Arthur of Bretagne, England’s king, and yours. 
 Enter an English Herald, with trumpets. 
 
 E. Her. Rejoice, you men of Angiers, ring your 
 bells; 
 
 King John, your king and England’s, doth 
 approach, 
 
 Commander of this hot malicious day 1 
 Their armours, that march’d hence so silver- 
 bright, 
 
 Hither return all gilt with Frenchmen’s blood; 
 There stuck no plume in any English crest, 
 
 That is removed by a staff of France ; 
 
 Our colours do return in those same hands, 
 
 That did display them when we first march’d forth: 
 And, like a jolly troop of huntsmen, come 
 Our lusty English, all with purpled hands, 
 
 Died in the dying slaughter of their foes: 
 
 Open your gates, and give the victors way. 
 
 Cit. Heralds, from off our towers we might be¬ 
 hold 
 
 From first to last, the onset and retire 
 Of both your armies; whoso equality 
 By our best eye cannot be censured: 
 
 Blood hath bought blood, and blows have answer’d 
 blows, 
 
 Strength match’d with strength, and power con¬ 
 fronted power: 
 
 Both are alike; and both alike we like. 
 
 One must prove greatest: while they weigh so 
 even, 
 
 We hold our town for neither; yet for both. 
 
 Enter, at one side , KING JOHN, with his power; 
 ELINOR, BLANCH, and the Bastard; at the 
 other, KING PHILIP, LEWIS, AUSTRIA, and 
 Forces. 
 
 K. John. France, hast thou yet more blood to cast 
 away? 
 
 Say, shall the current of our right run on? 
 
 Whose passage, vex’d with thy impediment, 
 
 Shall leave his native channel, and o’er-swell 
 With course disturb’d even thy confining shores; 
 Unless thou let his silver water keep 
 A peaceful progress to the ocean. 
 
 K. Phi. England thou hast not saved one drop of 
 blood, 
 
 In this hot trial, more than we of France; 
 
 Rather, lost more: And by this hand I swear, 
 
 That sways the earth this climate overlooks,— 
 Before we will lay down our just-borne arms, 
 
 We’ll put thee down, ’gainst whom these arms we 
 bear, 
 
 Or add a royal number to the dead! 
 
 Gracing the scroll, that tells of this war's loss, 
 
 With slaughter coupled to the name of kings. 
 
 Bast. Ha, majesty 1 how high thy glory towers, 
 When the rich blood of kings is set on fire! 
 
 O, now doth death line his dead chaps with steel: 
 The swords of soldiers are his teeth, his fangs; 
 And now he feasts, mouthing the flesh of men, 
 
 In undetermined differences of kings.— 
 
 Why stand these royal fronts amazed thus? 
 
 JOHN. 
 
 Cry havoc, kings! back to the stained field. 
 
 You equal potents, fiery-kindled spirits ! 
 
 Then let confusion of one part contirm 
 The other’s peace; till then, blows, blood, and 
 death! 
 
 K. John. Whose party do the townsmen yet 
 admit? 
 
 K. Phi. Speak, citizens, for England; who’s your 
 king ? 
 
 1 Cit. The king of England, when we know tic 
 king. 
 
 K. Phi. Know him in us, that here hold up his 
 right 
 
 K. John. In us, that are our own great deputy, 
 And bear possession of our person here; 
 
 Lord of our presence, Angiers, and of you. 
 
 1 Cit. A greater power than we, denies all 
 this; 
 
 And, till it be undoubted, we do lock 
 Our former scruple in our strong-barr’d gates : 
 King’d of our fears; until our fears, resolved. 
 
 Be by some certain king purged and deposed. 
 
 Bast. By Heaven, these scroyles of Angiers flout 
 you, kings; 
 
 And stand securely on their battlements, 
 
 As in a theatre, whence they gape and point 
 At your Industrious scenes and acts of death. 
 
 Your royal presences be ruled by me; 
 
 Do like the mutines of Jerusalem, 
 
 Be friends a while, and both conjointly bend 
 Your sharpest deeds of malice on this town: 
 
 By east and west let France and England mount 
 Their battering cannon, charged to ihe mouths; 
 Till their soul-fearing clamours have brawl’d 
 down 
 
 The flinty ribs of this contemptuous city: 
 
 I’d play incessantly upon these jades, 
 
 Even till unfenced desolation 
 Leave them as naked as the vulgar air. 
 
 That done, dissever your united strengths. 
 
 And part your mingled colours once again; 
 
 Turn face to face, and bloody point to point; 
 
 Then, in a moment, fortune shall cull forth 
 Out of one side her happy minion; 
 
 To whom in favour she shall give the day, 
 
 And kiss him with a glorious victory. 
 
 How like you this wild counsel, mighty states? 
 Smacks it not something of the policy ? 
 
 K. John. Now, by the sky that hangs above our 
 heads, 
 
 I like it wellFrance, shall we knit our powers, 
 And lay this Angiers even with the ground; 
 
 Then, after, fight who shall be king of it? 
 
 Bast. And if thou hast the mettle of a king,— 
 Being wronged, as we are, by this peevish town. 
 Turn thou the mouth of thy artillery, 
 
 As we will ours, against these saucy walls; 
 
 And when that we have dash’d them to the 
 ground, 
 
 Why, then defy each other; and, pell-mell. 
 
 Make work upon ourselves, for heaven, or helL 
 K. Phi. Let it be so :—Say, where will you 
 assault ? 
 
 K. John. We from the west will send destruction 
 Into this city’s bosom. 
 
 Ausl. I from the north, 
 
 K. Phi. Our thunder from the south 
 
 Shall rain their drift of bullets on this town. 
 
 Bast. O prudent discipline! From north to 
 south 
 
 Austria and France shoot in each other's mouth: 
 
 (Aside.) 
 
535 
 
 KING 
 
 M stir them to it.—Come, away, away! 
 
 I Cit. Hear us, great kings: vouchsafe a while to 
 stay, 
 
 And I Bhall shew you peace, and fair-faced 
 
 league; 
 
 Win you this city without stroke, or wound; 
 Bescue those breathing lives to die in beds. 
 
 That here come sacrifices for the field: 
 
 Persevere not, but hear me, mighty kings. 
 
 K. John. Speak on, with favour; we are bent to 
 hear. 
 
 ICit. That daughter there of Spain, the lady 
 Blanch, 
 
 Is niece to England: Look upon the years 
 Of Lewis the Dauphin, and that lovely maid: 
 
 If lusty love should go in quest of beauty, 
 
 Where should he find it fairer than in Blanch? 
 
 If zealous love should go in search of virtue, 
 
 Where should he find it purer than in Blanch? 
 
 If love ambitious sought a match of birth, 
 
 Whose veins bound richer blood than lady Blanch ? 
 Such as she is, in beauty, virtue, birth, 
 
 Is the young Dauphin every way complete; 
 
 If not complete, O, say, he is not she : 
 
 And she again wants nothing, to name want, 
 
 If want it be not, that she is not he: 
 
 He is the half part of a blessed man. 
 
 Left to be finished by such a she; 
 
 And she a fair divided excellence, 
 
 Whose fulness of perfection lies in him. 
 
 O, two such silver currents, when they join, 
 
 Do glorify the banks that bound them in: 
 
 And two such shores to two such streams made 
 one, 
 
 Two such controlling bounds shall you be, kings, 
 To these two princes, if you marry them. 
 
 This union shall do more than battery can, 
 
 To our fast-closed gates; for, at this match, 
 
 With swifter spleen than powder can enforce. 
 
 The mouth of passage shall we fling wide ope, 
 
 And give you entrance; but, without this match, 
 The sea enraged is not half so deaf, 
 
 Lions more confident, mountains and rocks 
 More free from motion no, not death himself 
 In mortal fury haxf so peremptory, 
 
 As we to keep this city. 
 
 Bast. Here’s a stay, 
 
 That shakes the rotten carcass of old death 
 Out of his rags! Here’s a large mouth, indeed, 
 
 That spits forth death, and mountains, rocks, and 
 seas: 
 
 Talks as familiarly of roaring lions, 
 
 As maids of thirteen do of puppy-dogs! 
 
 What cannoneer begot this lusty blood! 
 
 He speaks plain cannon, fire, and smoke, and 
 bounce; 
 
 He gives the bastinado with his tongue; 
 
 Our ears are cudgell’d; not a word of his, 
 
 But buffets better than a fist of France: 
 
 Zounds l I was never so bethump’d with words, 
 Since I first call’d my brother’s father, dad. 
 
 Eli. Son, list to this conjunction, make this 
 match; 
 
 Give with our niece a dowry large enough: 
 
 For by this knot thou shalt so surely tie 
 Thy now unsur’d assurance to the crown, 
 
 That yon green boy shall have no sun to ripe 
 The bloom, that promiseth a mighty fruit. 
 
 I see a yielding in the looks of France; 
 
 Mark, how they whisper: urge them, while their 
 souls 
 
 Are capable of this ambition; 
 
 JOHN. 
 
 Lest zeal, now melted, by the windy breath 
 Of soft p&titions, pity, and remorse, 
 
 Cool and congeal again to what it was. 
 
 1 Cit. Why answer not the double majesties 
 This friendly treaty of our threaten’d town ? 
 
 K. Phi. Speak England first, that hath been for. 
 ward first 
 
 To speak unto this city: What say you ? 
 
 K. John. If that the Dauphin there, thy princely 
 son, 
 
 Can in this book of beauty read, I love. 
 
 Her dowry shall weigh equal with a queen : 
 
 For Anjou, and fair Touraine, Maine, Poictiers^ 
 And all that we upon this side the sea 
 (Except this city now by us besieged) 
 
 Find liable to our crown and dignity, 
 
 Shall gild her bridal bed; and make her rich 
 In titles, honours, and promotions, 
 
 As she in beauty, education, blood. 
 
 Holds hands with any princess of the world. 
 
 K. Phi. What says’t thou, boy? look in the lady’s 
 face. 
 
 Lew. I do, my lord, and in her eye I find 
 A wonder, or a wondrous miracle, 
 
 The shadow of myself form'd in her eyes; 
 
 Which, being but the shadow of your son, 
 
 Becomes a sun, and makes your son a shadow ? 
 
 I do protest, I never loved myself, 
 
 Till now infixed I beheld myself, 
 
 Drawn in the flattering table of her eye. 
 
 (Whisper's icith Blanch./ 
 Bast. Drawn in the flattering table of her eye!— 
 Hang’d in the frowning wrinkle of her 
 brow!— 
 
 And quarter’d in her heart!—he doth espy 
 Himself love’s traitor: This is pity now, 
 
 That hang’d, and drawn, and quarter’d there 
 should be. 
 
 In such a love, so vile a lout as he. 
 
 Blanch. My uncle’s will, in this respect, is mina* 
 If he see aught in you, that makes him like, 
 
 That any thing he sees, which moves his liking, 
 
 I can with ease translate it to my will; 
 
 Or, if you will, (to speak more properly,) 
 
 I will enforce it easily to my love. 
 
 Farther I will not flatter you, my lord, 
 
 That all I see in you is worthy love, 
 
 Than this,—that nothing do I see in you, 
 
 (Though churlish thoughts themselves should be 
 your judge,) 
 
 That I can find should merit any hate. 
 
 K. John. What say these young ones ? What say 
 you, my niece ? 
 
 Blanch , That she is bound in honour still to do 
 What you in wisdom shall vouchsafe to say. 
 
 K. John. Speak then, prince Dauphin; can you 
 love this lady ? 
 
 Lew. Nay, ask me if I can refrain from love; 
 
 For I do love her most unfeignedly. 
 
 K. John. Then do I give Volquessen, Touraine, 
 Maine, 
 
 Poictiers, and Anjou, these five provinces, 
 
 With her to thee; and this addition more. 
 
 Full thirty thousand marks of English coin.— 
 Philip of France, if thou be pleased withal, 
 Command thy son and daughter to join hands. 
 
 K. Phi. It likes us well:—Young princes, close 
 your hands. 
 
 Aust. And your lips too; for, I am well assured, 
 That I did so, when I was first assured. 
 
 K. Phi. Now, citizens of Angiers, ope your gates. 
 Let in that amity which you have made j 
 
KING JOHN. 
 
 536 
 
 For at Saint Mary’s chapel, presently, 
 
 The rites of marriage shall be solemnized.— 
 
 Is not the lady Constance in this troop? 
 
 I know, she is not; for this match, made up, 
 
 Her presence would have interrupted much: 
 
 Where is she and her son ? tell me, who knows. 
 Lew. She is sad and passionate at your highness’ 
 tent. 
 
 K. Phi. And, by my faith, this league, that we 
 have made, 
 
 Will give her sadness very little cure.— 
 
 Brother of England, how may we content 
 This widow lady ? In her right we came; 
 
 Which we, God knows, have turn’d another way, 
 To our own vantage. 
 
 K. John. We will heal up all, 
 
 For we’ll create young Arthur duke of Bretagne, 
 And earl of Richmond; and this rich fair town 
 We make him lord of.—Call the lady Constance; 
 Some speedy messenger bid her repair 
 To our solemnity:—I trust we shall. 
 
 If not fill up the measure of her will, 
 
 Yet in some measure satisfy her so, 
 
 That we shall stop her exclamation. 
 
 Go we, as well as haste will suffer us, 
 
 To this unlook’d for unprepared pomp. 
 
 [Exeunt all but the Bastard. — The Citizens 
 retire from the walls. 
 
 Bast. Mad world! mad kings! mad composi¬ 
 tion! 
 
 John, to stop Arthur’s title in the whole, 
 
 Hath willingly departed with a part: 
 
 And France, (whose armour conscience buckled 
 on; 
 
 Whom zeal and charity brought to the field. 
 
 As God’s own soldier,) rounded in the ear 
 With that same purpose-changer, that sly devil; 
 That broker, that still breaks the pate of faith; 
 That daily break-vow; he, that wins of all. 
 
 Of kings, of beggars, old men, young men, 
 maids;— 
 
 Who having no external thing to lose 
 But the word maid,—cheats the poor maid of that; 
 That smooth-faced gentleman, tickling commo¬ 
 dity,— 
 
 Commodity, the bias of the world; 
 
 The world, who of itself is ’peised well, 
 
 Made to run even, upon even ground; 
 
 Till this advantage, this vile drawing bias, 
 
 This sway of motion, this commodity, 
 
 Makes it take head from all indifferency, 
 
 From all direction, purpose, course, intent 
 And this same bias, this commodity, 
 
 This bawd, this broker, this all-changing word, 
 Clapp’d on the outward eye of fickle France, 
 
 Hath drawn him from his own determined aid, 
 From a resolved and honourable war, 
 
 To a most base and vile-concluded peace.— 
 
 And why rail I on this commodity ? 
 
 But for because he hath not woo’d me yet: 
 
 Not that I have tho power to clutch my hand, 
 When his fair angels would salute my palm; 
 
 But for my hand, as unattempted yet, 
 
 Like a poor beggar, raileth on the rich. 
 
 Well, whiles I am a beggar, I will rail, 
 
 And say there is no sin, but to be rich; 
 
 And being rich, my virtue then shall be, 
 
 To say,—there is no vice, but beggary: 
 
 Since kings break faith upon commodity, 
 
 Gain, be my lordl for I will worship thee! 
 
 [Exit. 
 
 ACT m. 
 
 SCEN2 L — The Same. The French King's Tent. 
 Enter CONSTANCE, ARTHUR, and 
 SALISBURY. 
 
 Const. Gone to be married! gone to swear a 
 peace! 
 
 False blood to false blood join’d! gone to Le 
 friends ! 
 
 Shall Lewis have Blanch ? and Blanch those pro¬ 
 vinces ? 
 
 It is not so; that thou mis-spoke, mis-heardj 
 Be well advised, tell o’er thy tale again: 
 
 It cannot be; thou dost but say ’tis so: 
 
 I trust, I may not trust thee; for thy word 
 Is but the vain breath of a common man; 
 
 Believe me, I do not believe thee, man; 
 
 I have a king’s oath to the contrary. 
 
 Thou shalt be punish’d for thus frighting me, 
 
 For I am sick, and capable of fears; 
 
 Oppress’d with wrongs, and therefore full of 
 fears; 
 
 A widow, husbandless, subject to fears; 
 
 A woman naturally born to fears; 
 
 And though thou now confess thou didst but jest 
 With my vex’d spirits I cannot take a truce, 
 
 But they will quake and tremble all this day. 
 
 What dost thou mean by shaking of thy head? 
 Why dost thou look so sadly on my son ? 
 
 What means that hand upon that breast of thine ? 
 Why holds thine eye that lamentable rheum, 
 
 Like a proud river peering o’er his bounds ? 
 
 Be these sad signs confirmers of thy words? 
 
 Then speak again; not all thy former tale, 
 
 But this one word, whether thy tale be true. 
 
 Sal. As true as, I believe you think them false, 
 That give you cause to prove my saying true. 
 
 Const. O, if thou teach me to believe this 
 sorrow, 
 
 Teach thou this sorrow, how to make me die; 
 
 And let belief and life encounter so, 
 
 As doth the fury of two desperate men, 
 
 Which, in the very meeting, fall and die.— 
 
 Lewis marry Blanch! O, boy, then where art 
 thou ? 
 
 France friend with England? what becomes of 
 me ? 
 
 Fellow, begone: I cannot brook thy sight; 
 
 This news hath made thee a most ugly man. 
 
 Sal. What other harm have I, good lady done, 
 But spoke the harm that is by others done? 
 
 Const. Which harm within itself so heinous is, 
 
 As it makes harmful all that speak of it. 
 
 Arth. I do beseech you, madam, be content. 
 Const. If thou, that bid’st me be content, were 
 grim, 
 
 Ugly, and sland’rous to thy mother’s womb, 
 
 Full of unpleasing blots, and sightless stains, 
 
 Lame, foolish, crooked, swart, prodigious, 
 
 Batch’d with foul moles, and eye - offending 
 marks, 
 
 I would not care, I then would be content; 
 
 For then I should not love thee, no, nor thou 
 Become thy great birth, nor deserve a crown. 
 
 But thou art fair; and at thy birth, dear boy, 
 Nature and fortune join’d to make thee great: 
 
 Of nature’s gifts thou may’st with lilies boast, 
 
 And with the half-blown rose : but fortune, O! 
 
 She is corrupted, changed, and won from thee; 
 
 She adulterates hourly with thine uncle John: 
 
 And with her golden hand hath pluck’d on 
 France 
 
KING 
 
 To tread down fair respect of sovereignty, 
 
 And made his majesty the bawd to theirs. 
 
 France is a bawd to Fortune, and King John; 
 
 That strumpet Fortune, that usurping John 
 Tell me, thou fellow, is not France forsworn? 
 Envenom him with words; or get thee gone, 
 
 And leave those woes alone, which I alone 
 Am bound to under-bear. 
 
 Sal. Pardon me, madam, 
 
 I may not go without you to the kings. 
 
 Const. Thou may’st, thou shalt, I will not gc with 
 thee: 
 
 I will instruct my sorrows to be proud; 
 
 For grief is proud, and makes his owner stout 
 To me, and to the state of my great grief, 
 
 Let kings assemble; for my grief’s so great, 
 
 That no supporter but the huge firm earth 
 Can hold it up : here I and sorrow sit; 
 
 Here is my throne, bid kings come bow to it 
 
 (She throws herself on the ground.) 
 
 Enter KING JOHN, KING PHILIP, LEWIS, 
 BLANCH. ELINOR, Bastard , AUSTRIA, and 
 Attendants. 
 
 K. Phi. ’Tis true, fair daughter; and this blessed 
 day 
 
 Ever in France shall be kept festival: 
 
 To solemnize this day, the glorious sun 
 Stays in his course, and plays the alchymist; 
 Turning, with splendour of his precious eye, 
 
 The meagre cloddy earth to glittering gold : 
 
 The yearly course, that brings this day about, 
 
 Shall never see it but a holyday. 
 
 Const. A wicked day, and not a holyday!- 
 
 (Rising.) 
 
 What hath this day deserved ? what hath it done; 
 That it in golden letters should be set, 
 
 Among the high tides, in the kalendar ? 
 
 Nay, rather, turn this day out of the week; 
 
 This day of shame, oppression, perjury: 
 
 O, if it must stand still, let wives with child 
 Pray, that, their burdens may not fall this day, 
 
 Lest that their hopes prodigiously be crossed; 
 
 But on this day let seamen 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 falsehood change! 
 
 K Phi By Heaven, lady, you shall have no 
 cause 
 
 To curse the fair proceedings of this day: 
 
 Have I not pawn’d to you my majesty? 
 
 Const. You have beguiled me with a counterfeit, 
 Resembling majesty; which, being touch’d, and 
 tried, 
 
 Proves valueless: You are forsworn, forsworn : 
 You came in arms to spill mine enemies’ blood, 
 But now in arms you strengthen it with yours: 
 
 The grappling vigour and rough frown of war 
 Is cold in amity and painted peace, 
 
 And our oppression hath made up this league; 
 Arm, arm, you Heavens, against these perjured 
 kings! 
 
 A widow cries; be husband to me, Heavens I 
 Let not the hours of this ungodly day 
 We* out the day in peace; but, ere sunset, 
 
 Set armed discord ’twixt these perjured kings! 
 Hear me, O hear me! 
 
 Aust. Lady Constance, peace. 
 
 Const. War! war! no peace! peace is to me a 
 war. 
 
 O Lymoges! O Austria; thou dost shame 
 
 JOHN. 537 
 
 That bloody spoiL Thou slave, thou wretch, thou 
 coward: 
 
 Thou little valiant, great in villainy! 
 
 Thou ever strong upon the stronger side! 
 
 Thou fortune’s champion, that dost never fight 
 But when her humorous ladyship is by 
 To teach thee safety thou art perjured too, 
 
 And sooth’st up greatness. What a fool art theta, 
 
 A ramping fool; to brag and stamp, and swear. 
 Upon my party! Thou cold-blooded slave, 
 
 Hast thou not spoke like thunder on my side ? 
 
 Been sworn my soldier ? bidding me depend 
 Upon thy stars, thy fortune, and thy strength? 
 
 And d03t thou now fall over to my foes ? 
 
 Thou wear a lion’s hide! doff it for shame, 
 
 And hang a calf’s-skin on those recreant limbs 
 Aust. O, that a man should speak those words to 
 me. 
 
 Bast. And hang a calf’s-skin on those recreant 
 limbs. 
 
 Aust. Thou darest not say so, villain, for thy 
 life. 
 
 Bast. And hang a calf’s-skin on those recreant 
 limbs. 
 
 K. John. We like not this; thou dost forget thy¬ 
 self. 
 
 Enter PANDULPH. 
 
 K. Phi. Here comes the holy legate of the pope. 
 Pand. Hail, you anointed deputies of Heaven !«— 
 To thee, King John, my holy errand is. 
 
 I Pandulph, of fair Milan cardinal, 
 
 And from Pope Innocent the legate here, 
 
 Do, in his name, religiously demand, 
 
 Why thou against the church, our holy mother, 
 
 So wilfully dost spurn? and, force perforce, 
 
 Keep Stephen Langton, chosen archbishop 
 Of Canterbury, from that holy see ? 
 
 This, in our ’foresaid 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 sacred king ? 
 
 Thou canst not, cardinal, devise a name 
 So slight, unworthy, and ridiculous, 
 
 To charge me to an answer, as the pope. 
 
 Tell him this tale; and from the mouth of Eng¬ 
 land, 
 
 Add thus much more,—That no ItaUan priest 
 Shall tithe or toll in our dominions; 
 
 But as we under Heaven are supreme head. 
 
 So, under him, that great supremacy, 
 
 Where we do reign, we will alone uphold. 
 
 Without the assistance of a mortal hand; 
 
 So tell the pope ; all reverence set apart, 
 
 To him, and his usurp’d authority. 
 
 K. Phi. Brother of England, you blaspheme in 
 this. 
 
 K. John. Though you, and all the kings of Chris 
 tendom, 
 
 Are led so grossly by this meddling priest, 
 Dreading the curse, that money may buy out; 
 
 And, by the merit of vile gold, dross, dust, 
 Purchase corrupted pardon of a man, 
 
 Who, in that sale, sells pardon from himself; 
 Though you, and all the rest, so grossly led, 
 
 This juggling witchcraft with revenue cherish; 
 
 Yet I, alone, alone do me oppose 
 Against the pope, and count his friends my foes, 
 Pand. Then, by the lawful power that I have. 
 Thou shalt stand cursed, and excommunicate: 
 And blessed shall he be, that doth revolt 
 From his allegiance to an heretic: 
 
KING JOHN. 
 
 ££8 
 
 And meritorious shall that hand be call’d, 
 Canonized, and worship’d as a saint, 
 
 That takes away, by any secret course, 
 
 Thy hateful life. 
 
 Const. O, lawful let it be, 
 
 That I have room with Rome to curse a while! 
 Good father cardinal, cry thou, amen, 
 
 To my keen curses: for, without my wrong, 
 
 There is no tongue hath power to curse him 
 right. 
 
 Pand. There’s law and warrant, lady, for my 
 curse. 
 
 Const. 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, since law itself is perfect wrong, 
 
 , How can the law forbid my tongue to curse ? 
 
 Pand. Philip of France, on peril of a curse, 
 
 Let go the hand of that arch-heretic ; 
 
 And raise the power of France upon his head, 
 vUnless he do submit himself to Rome. 
 
 Eli. Look’st thou pale, France ? Do not let go thy 
 hand. 
 
 Const. Look to that, devil! lest that France re¬ 
 pent, 
 
 . And, by disjoining hands, hell lose a souL 
 
 Aust. King Philip, listen to the cardinal. 
 
 Bast. And hang a calf’s-skin on his recreant 
 limbs. 
 
 Aust. Well, ruffian, I must pocket up these 
 wrongs, 
 
 Because- 
 
 Bast. Your breeches best may carry them. 
 
 K. John. Philip, what say’st thou to the cardi¬ 
 nal ? 
 
 Const. What should he say, but as the cardi¬ 
 nal? 
 
 Lew. Bethink you, father; for the difference 
 Is, purchase of a heavy curse from Romo, 
 
 Or the light loss of England for a friend: 
 
 Forego the easier. 
 
 Blanch. That’s the curse of Rome. 
 
 Const. 0 Lewis, stand fast; the devil tempts thee 
 here. 
 
 Blanch. The ladj Constance speaks not from her 
 faith, 
 
 •But from her need. 
 
 Const. O, if thou grant my need, 
 
 Which only lives but by the death of faith, 
 
 'That needs must need infer this principle, 
 
 'That faith would live again by death of need : 
 tO, then, tread down my need, and faith mounts 
 up, 
 
 Keep my need up, and faith is trodden down. 
 
 K. John. The king is moved, and answers not to 
 this. 
 
 Const. O, be moved from him, and answer well. 
 
 Aust. Do so, King Philip ; hang no more in 
 doubt. 
 
 Bast. Hang nothing but a calf s-skin, most sweet 
 lout. 
 
 K. Phi. I am perplex’d, and know not what to 
 say. 
 
 Pand. What canst thou say, but will perplex thee 
 more, 
 
 If thou stand excommunicate, and cursed ? 
 
 K. Phi. Good reverend father, make my person 
 yours, 
 
 And tell me, how you would bestow yourself. 
 
 'i his royal hand and mine are newly knit; 
 
 And the conjunction of our inward souls 
 Married in league, coupled and link’d together 
 With all religious strength of sacred vows: 
 
 The latest breath that gave the sound of words, 
 Was deep-sworn faith, peace, amity, tiue love. 
 Between our kingdoms, and our royal selves ; 
 
 And even before this truce, but new before,— 
 
 No longer than we well could wash our hands, 
 
 To clap this royal bargain up of peace,— 
 
 Heaven knows, they were besmear’d and over- 
 stain’d 
 
 With slaughter’s pencil; where revenge did paint 
 The fearful difference of incensed kings: 
 
 And shall these hands, so lately purged of blood, 
 So newly join’d in love, so strong in both. 
 
 Unyoke this seizure, and this kind regreet? 
 
 Play fast and loose with faith? so jest with Heaven, 
 Make such unconstant children of ourselves, 
 
 As now again to snatch our palm from palm; 
 Unswear faith sworn; and on the marriage bed 
 Of smiling peace to march a bloody host, 
 
 And make a riot on the gentle brow 
 Of true sincerity ? O holy sir, 
 
 My reverend father, let it not be so: 
 
 Out of your grace, devise, ordain, impose 
 Some gentle order; and then we shall be bless’d 
 To do your pleasure, and continue friends. 
 
 Pand. All form is formless, order orderless, 
 
 Save what is opposite to England’s love. 
 
 Therefore, to armsl be champion of our church! 
 Or let the church, our mother, breathe her curse, 
 
 A mother’s curse, on her revolting son. 
 
 France, thou may’st hold a serpent by the tongue, 
 A chafed lion by the mortal paw, 
 
 A fasting tiger safer by the tooth, 
 
 Than keep in peace that hand which thou dost 
 hold. 
 
 K. Phi. I may disjoin my hand, but not my faith. 
 Pand. So makest thou faith an enemy to faith; 
 And like a civil war, sett’st oath to oath. 
 
 Thy tongue against thy tongue. O, let thy vow, 
 First made to Heaven, first be to Heaven per¬ 
 form’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 flre^ 
 Within the scorched veins of one new burn’d. 
 
 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 makest an oath the surety for thy truth 
 Against an oath: The truth thou art unsura 
 To swear, swear 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 latter 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 those giddy loose suggestions: 
 
 Upon which better part our prayers come in, 
 i If thou vouchsafe them: but, if not, then know. 
 
KING JOHN. 
 
 The peril of our curses light on thee; 
 
 So heavy, as thou shaltnot 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!—ah, alack, how new 
 Is husband in my mouth!—even for that name, 
 Which till this time my tongue did ne’er pro¬ 
 nounce, 
 
 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 
 Forethought 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 up¬ 
 holds, 
 
 His honour: O thine honour, Lewis, thine honour 1 
 Lew. I muse, your majesty doth seem so cold, 
 When such profound respects do pull you on. 
 
 Band. I will denounce a curse upon his head. 
 
 K. rhi. Thou shalt not needEngland, I’ll 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 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 tby 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 to¬ 
 gether.— 
 
 [Exit Bastard. 
 
 France, I am burn’d up with inflaming wrath ; 
 
 A rage, whose heat hath this condition, 
 
 "'hat 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 
 
 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 1 
 
 530 
 
 SCENE II.— The same. Plains near Anglers. 
 
 Alarums; Excursions. Enter the Bastard with 
 AUSTRIA’S head. 
 
 Bast. Now, by my life, this day grows wondrous 
 hot; 
 
 Some airy devil hovers in the sky, 
 
 And pours down mischief. Austria’s head he 
 there; 
 
 While Philip breathes. 
 
 Enter KING JOHN, ARTHUR, and HUBERT. 
 
 K. John. Hubert, keep this boy.—Philip make 
 up: 
 
 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 t 
 But on, my liege ; for very little pains 
 W ill bring this labour to an happy end. 
 
 [Exeunt. 
 
 SCENE IIL— The same. 
 
 A larums; Excursions; Retreat. Enter KING J OH N, 
 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. 
 
 E. John. Cousin, (to the Bastard) away for Eng¬ 
 land ; haste before: 
 
 And, ere our coming, see thou shake the bags 
 Of hoarding abbots; angels imprison’d 
 Set thou 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, my gentle cousin. 
 
 K. John. Coz, farewell. • 
 
 [Exit Bastard. 
 
 Eli. Como hither, little kinsman ; hark, a 
 word. 
 
 (She takes Arthur, aside.) 
 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 ashamed 
 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 shah come, for me to do thee good. 
 
 [Exeunt. 
 
540 KING 
 
 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 gawds, 
 
 To give me audience:—If the midnight bell 
 Did, with his iron tongue and brazen mouth, 
 Sound one unto the drowsy race of night ; 
 
 If this same were a churchyard where we stand, 
 And thou possessed with a thousand wrongs; 
 
 Or if that surly spirit, melancholj% 
 
 Had baked 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 brooded watchful day, 
 
 I would into thy bosom pour my thoughts: 
 
 But ah, I will not:—Yet \ love thee well; 
 
 And, by my troth, I think, thou lovest me well. 
 
 Hub. So well, that what you bid me undertake, 
 Though that my death were adjunct to my act, 
 
 By heaven, I’d do’t. 
 
 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, 
 
 Be lies before me: Dost thou understand me ? 
 Thou art his keeper. 
 
 Hub. And I will keep him so, 
 
 That he shall not offend your majesty. 
 
 K.John. Death. 
 
 Hub. My lord ? 
 
 K. John. A grave. 
 
 Hub. He shall not live. 
 
 K. John. Enough. 
 
 I could be merry now: Hubert, I love thee; 
 
 Well, I’ll not say what I intend for thee; 
 
 Eemember.-Madam, fare you well: 
 
 I’ll send those powers o’er to your majesty. 
 
 Eli. My blessing go with thee! 
 
 K. John. For England, cousin: 
 
 Hubert shall be your man, attend on you 
 With all true duty—On toward 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 convicted 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 disposed, 
 
 Such temperate order in so fierce a cause, 
 
 Doth want example: Who hath read, or heard, 
 
 Of any kindred action like to this? 
 
 JOHN. 
 
 K. Phi. Well could I bear, that England had the 
 
 praise, 
 
 So we could find some pattern of our shame. 
 
 Enter CONSTANCE. 
 
 Look, who comes here! a grave unto a soul; 
 Holding the 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 youi 
 peace! 
 
 K. Phi. Patience, good lady! comfort, gentlt 
 Constance! 
 
 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 forth from 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 smilest. 
 And buss thee as thy wife I Misery’s love, 
 
 O, come to me. 
 
 K. Phi. O fair affliction, peace. 
 
 Const. No, no, I will not, having breath to cry 
 Oh, that my tongue were in the thunder’s mouth 1 
 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 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, ’tis like I should forget myself: 
 
 O, if I could, what grief should I forget!— 
 
 Preach some philosophy to make me mao. 
 
 And thou shalt be canonized, cardinal; 
 
 For, being not mad, but sensible of grief, 
 
 My reasonable part produces reason 
 How 1 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 1 
 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 glew themselves in sociable grief; 
 
 Like true, inseparable, faithful loves, 
 
 Sticking together in calamity. 
 
 Const. To England, if you will. 
 
 K. Phi. Bind up your hairs. 
 
 Const. Yes, that I will; and wherefore will I dc 
 it? 
 
 I tore them from their bonds; and cried aloud, 
 
 0 that these hands could so red em 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; 
 
KINO 
 
 If that be true, I shall see my boy again; 
 
 Fdr since the birth of Cain, the first male child, 
 
 To him that did but yesterday suspire, 
 
 There was not such a gracious creature born. 
 
 But now will canker sorrow eat my bud. 
 
 And chase the native beauty from his cheek, 
 
 And he will look as hollow as a ghost; 
 
 And dim and meagre as an ague’s fit; 
 
 And so he ’ll die; and, rising so again. 
 
 When I shall meet him in the court of heaven 
 I shall not know him: therefore never, never 
 Must I behold my pretty Arthur more. 
 
 Panel. You hold too heinous a respect of grief. 
 Const. He talks to me that never had a son. 
 
 K. Phi. You are as fond of grief as of your child. 
 Const. Grief fills the room up of my absent 
 child, 
 
 Lies in his bed, walks up and down with me; 
 
 Puts on his pretty looks, repeats his words, 
 Remembers me of all his gracious parts, 
 
 Stuffs out his vacant garments with his form; 
 
 Then have I reason to be fond of grief. 
 
 Fare you well: had you such a loss as I, 
 
 I could give better comfort than jou do.— 
 
 I will not keep this form upon my head, 
 
 (Tearing off her head-dress. 
 
 When there is such disorder in my wit 
 O, lord! my boy, my Arthur, my fair son! 
 
 My life, my joy, my food, my all the world! 
 
 My widow-comfort, and my sorrow’s cure. 
 
 [Exit. 
 
 E. Phi. I fear some outrage, and I’ll follow her. 
 
 [Exit. 
 
 Lew. There’s nothing in this world can make me 
 joy. 
 
 Life is as tedious as a twice-told tale, 
 
 Vexing the dull ear of a drowsy man; 
 
 And bitter shame hath spoiled the sweet world’s 
 taste, 
 
 That it yields nought but shame and bitterness. 
 
 Pand. Before the curing of a strong disease, 
 
 Even in the instant of repair and health, 
 
 The fit is strongest; evils, that take leave, 
 
 On their departure most of all shew evil: 
 
 What have you lost by losing of this day ? 
 
 Lew. All days of glory, joy, and happiness. 
 
 Pand. If you had won it, certainly you had. 
 
 No, no; when fortune means to men most good, 
 She looks upon them with a threatening eye. 
 
 ’Tis strange to think how much King John hath 
 lost 
 
 In this, which he accounts so clearlv won: 
 
 Are not you grieved, that Arthur is his prisoner ? 
 Lew. As heartily, as he is glad he hath him. 
 
 Pand. Your mind is,all as*youthful as your blood. 
 Now hear me speak, with a prophetic spirit; 
 
 For even the breath of what I mean to speak 
 Shall blow each dust, each straw, each little rub, 
 Out of the path, which shall directly lead 
 Thy foot to England’s throne; and, therefore, 
 mark, 
 
 John hath seized Arthur; and it cannot be, 
 
 1 hat, whiles warm life plays in that infant’s veins, 
 The misplaced John should entertain an hour, 
 
 One minute, nay, one quiet breath of rest; 
 
 A sceptre, snatch'd with an unruly hand, 
 
 Must be as boisterously maintain'd as gain’d; 
 
 And he, that stands upon a slippery place, 
 
 Makes nice of no vile hold to stay him up; 
 
 JOHN. 541 
 
 That John may stand, then Arthur needs must 
 fall; 
 
 So be it, for it cannot be but so. 
 
 Lew. But what shall I gain by young Arthur’s 
 fall? 
 
 Pand. You, in the right of lady Blanch your 
 wife, 
 
 May then make all the claim that Arthur did. 
 
 Lew. And lose it, life and all, as Arthur did. 
 
 Pand. How green are you, and fresh in this old 
 world! 
 
 John lays you plots: the times conspire with you; 
 For he that steeps his safety in true blood, 
 
 Shall find but bloody safety and untrue. 
 
 This act, so evilly born, shall cool the hearts 
 Of all his people, and freeze up their zeal; 
 
 That none so small advantage shall step forth, 
 
 To check his reign, but they will cherish it; 
 
 No natural exhalation in the sky, 
 
 No scope of nature, no distemper’d day, 
 
 No common wind, no customed event, 
 
 But they will pluck away his natural cause, 
 
 And call them meteors, prodigies, and signs, 
 Abortives, presages, and tongues of Heaven, 
 Plainly denouncing vengeance upon John. 
 
 Lew. May be, he will not touch young Arthur’s 
 life, 
 
 But hold himself safe in his prisonment 
 Pand. O, sir, when he shall hear of your ap¬ 
 proach, 
 
 If that young Arthur be not gone already, 
 
 Even at that news he dies: and then the hearts 
 Of all his people shall revolt from him. 
 
 And kiss the lips of unacquainted change; 
 
 And pick strong matter of revolt and wrath 
 Out of the bloody flngers’-ends of John. 
 
 Methinks, I see this hurly all on foot; 
 
 And, O, what better matter breeds for you, 
 
 Than I have named!—The bastard Faulconbridge 
 Is now in England ransacking the church. 
 Offending charity; If but a dozen French 
 Were there in arms, fhey would be as a call 
 To train ten thousand English to their side; 
 
 Or, as a little snow, tumbled about, 
 
 Anon becomes a mountain. O noble Dauphin, 
 
 Go with me to the king; ’Tis wonderful, 
 
 What may be wrought out of their discontent; 
 
 Now that their souls are topfull of offence, 
 
 For England go; I will whet on the king. 
 
 Lew. Strong reasons make strong actions; Let 
 us go, 
 
 If you say, ay, the king will not say, no. 
 
 [Exeunt. 
 
 ACT IV. 
 
 SCENE I .—Northampton. A Room in the Castle. 
 
 Enter HUBERT and two Attendants. 
 
 Huh. Heat me these irons hot; and, look thoi 
 stand 
 
 Within the arras: when I strike my foot 
 Upon the bosom of the ground, rush forth; 
 
 And bind the boy, which you shall find with me, 
 Fast to the chair: be heedful: hence, and watch. 
 
 1 Attend. I hope your warrant will bear out tho 
 deed. 
 
 Hub. Uncleanly scruples! Fear not you: look 
 tot. 
 
 [Exeunt Attendants. 
 
542 
 
 KING JOHN. 
 
 Young lad, come forth; I havo to say with you. 
 Enter ARTHUR. 
 
 Arth. Good morrow, Hubert. 
 
 Hub. Good morrow, little prince. 
 
 Arth. As little prince (having so great a title 
 To be more prince) as may be.—You are sad. 
 
 Hub. Indeed, I have been merrier. 
 
 Arth. Mercy on me ! 
 
 Methinks, nobody should be sad but I; 
 
 Yet, I remember, when I was in France, 
 
 Young gentlemen would be as sad as night, 
 
 Only for wantonness. By my Christendom, 
 
 So I were out of prison, and kept sheep, 
 
 I should be as merry as the day is long: 
 
 And so I would be here, but that I doubt 
 My uncle practises more harm to me; 
 
 He is afraid of me, and I of him: 
 
 Is it my fault, that I was Geffrey’s son ? 
 
 No, indeed, it’s not; and I would to Heaven, 
 
 I were your son, so you would love me, Hubert 
 Hub. If I talk to him, with his innocent prate 
 He will awake my mercy, which lies dead : 
 Therefore I will be sudden, and despatch. 
 
 (Aside.) 
 
 Arth. Are you sick, Hubert ? you look pale to¬ 
 day : 
 
 In sooth, I would you were a little sick; 
 
 That I might sit all night, and watch with you: 
 
 I warrant, I love you more than you do me. 
 
 Hub. His words do take possession of my 
 bosom.— 
 
 Read here, young Arthur. (Shewing a paper.) How 
 now, foolish rheum 1 
 
 (Aside.) 
 
 Turning dispiteous torture out of door! 
 
 I must be brief, lest resolution drop 
 
 Out at mine eyes, in tender womanish tears.— 
 
 Can you not read it ? is it not fair writ? 
 
 Arth. Too fairly, Hubert, for so foul effect: 
 
 Must you with hot irons burn out both mine eyes ? 
 Hub. Young boy, I must. 
 
 Arth. And will you? 
 
 Hub. And I will. 
 
 Arth. Have you the heart? When your head 
 did but ache, 
 
 I knit my handkerchief about your brows, 
 
 (The best I had, a princess wrought it me,) 
 
 And I did never ask it you again : 
 
 And with my hand at midnight held your bead; 
 And, like the watchful minutes to the hour, 
 
 Still and anon cheer’d up the heavy time; 
 
 Saying, What lack you? and, Where lies your 
 grief ? 
 
 Or, What good love may I perform for you ? 
 
 Many a poor man’s son would have lain still, 
 
 And ne’er have spoke a loving word to you; 
 
 But you at your sick service had a prince. 
 
 Nay, you may think, my love was crafty love, 
 
 And call it, cunning : Do, an if you will: 
 
 If Heaven be pleased, that you must use me ill, 
 Why, then thou must.—Will you put out mine 
 eyes? 
 
 These eyes, that never did, nor never shall, 
 
 So much as frown on you ? 
 
 Hub. I have sworn to do it; 
 
 And with hot irons must I burn them out. 
 
 Arth. Ah, none, but in this iron age, would do it t 
 The iron of itself, though heat red-hot, 
 Approaching near these eyes, would drink my 
 tears, 
 
 And quench his fiery'indignation. 
 
 Even in the matter of mine innocence: 
 
 Nay, after that, consume away in rust, 
 
 But for containing fire to harm mine eye. 
 
 Are you more stubborn-hard than hammer’d iron ? 
 An if an angel should have come to me, 
 
 And told me, Hubert should put out mine eyes, 
 
 I would not have believed no tongue but Hubert’s. 
 Hub. Come forth. 
 
 (Stamps .i 
 
 Re-enter Attendants , with cord, irons, &c. 
 
 Do as I bid you do. 
 
 Arth. 0, save me, Hubert, save me! my eyes are 
 out, 
 
 Even with the fierce looks of these bloody men. 
 Hub. Give me the iron, I say, and bind him 
 here. 
 
 Arth. Alas, what need you be so boist’rous- 
 rough ? 
 
 I will not struggle, I will stand stone-still 
 For Heaven’s sake, Hubert, let me not be bound! 
 Nay, hear me, Hubert! drive these men away, 
 And I will sit as quiet as a lamb ; 
 
 I will not stir, nor wince, nor speak a word, 
 
 Nor look upon the iron angerly : 
 
 Thrust but these men away, and I’ll forgive you, 
 Whatever torment you do put me to. 
 
 Hub Go, stand within; let me alone with him. 
 
 1 Atten. I am best pleased to be from such a 
 deed. 
 
 [Exeunt Attendants. 
 
 Arth. Alas! I then have chid away my friend; 
 He hath a stern look, but a gentle heart:— 
 
 Let him come back, that his compassion may 
 Give life to yours. 
 
 Hub. Come, boy, prepare yourself. 
 
 Arth. Is there no remedy ? 
 
 Hub. None, but to lose your eyes. 
 
 Arth. O Heaven 1—that there were but a mote in 
 yours, 
 
 A grain, a dust, a gnat, a wand’ring hair, 
 
 Any annoyance in that precious sense! 
 
 Then, feeling what small things are boist’rous 
 there, 
 
 Your vile intent must needs seem horrible. 
 
 Hub. Is this your promise? go to, hold your 
 tongue. 
 
 Arth. Hubert, the utterance of a brace of tongues 
 Must needs want pleading fora pair of eyes; 
 
 Let me not hold my tongue; let me not, Hubert! 
 Or, Hubert, if you will, cut out my tongue, 
 
 So I may keep mine eyes; O, spare mine eyes; 
 Though to no use, but still to look on you! 
 
 Lo, by my troth, the instrument is cold, 
 
 And would not harm me. 
 
 Hub. I can heat it, boy. 
 
 Arth. No, in good sooth; the fire is dead with 
 grief, 
 
 Being create for comfort, to be used 
 In undeserved extremes: See else yourself; 
 
 There is no malice in this burning coal; 
 
 The breath of heaven hath blown his spirit out, 
 And strew’d repentant ashes on his head. 
 
 Hub. But with my breath I can revive it, boy. 
 Arth. And if you do, you will but make it blush. 
 And glow with shame of your proceedings, Hubert; 
 Nay, it, perchance, will sparkle in your eyes; 
 
 And, like a dog that is compell’d to fight, 
 
 Snatch at his master, that doth tarre him on. 
 
 All things, that you should use to do me wrong, 
 Deny their office: only you do lack 
 
V 
 
 KING 
 
 ■that mercy which fierce fire and iron extends, 
 Creatures of note, for mercy-lacking uses. 
 
 Hub . Well, see to live; I will not touch thine 
 eyes 
 
 For all the treasure that thine uncle owes: 
 
 Yet, I am sworn, and I did purpose, boy, 
 
 With this same very iron to burn them out. 
 
 Arth. 0, now you look like Hubert! all this 
 while 
 
 You were disguised. 
 
 Hub. Peace: no more. Adieu; 
 
 Your uncle must not know but you are dead: 
 
 I’ll fill these dogged spies with false reports. 
 
 And, pretty child, sleep doubtless, and secure, 
 
 That Hubert, for the wealth of all the world, 
 
 Will not offend thee. 
 
 Arth. O Heaven!—I thank you, Hubert. 
 
 Hub. Silence; no more: Go closely in with me; 
 Much danger do I undergo for thee. 
 
 [Exeunt. 
 
 SCENE II.— The same. A Room of State in the 
 Palace. 
 
 Enter KING JOHN, crowned; PEMBROKE, 
 SALISBURY, and other Lords. The King takes his 
 State. 
 
 K. John. Here once again we sit, once again 
 crown’d, 
 
 And look’d upon, I hope, with cheerful eyes. 
 
 Pem. This once again, but that your highness 
 pleased, 
 
 Was once superfluous: you were crown’d before, 
 Andthat high royaltv was ne’er pluck’d off; 
 
 The raiths of men ne’er stained with revolt; 
 
 Fresh expectation troubled not the land. 
 
 With any long’d-for change, or better state. 
 
 Sal. Therefore, to be possess’d with double 
 pomp, 
 
 To guard a title that was rich before, 
 
 To gild refined gold, to paint the lily. 
 
 To throw a perfume on the violet, 
 
 To smooth the ice, or add another hue 
 Unto the rainbow, or with taper-light 
 To seek the beauteous eye of heaven to garnish. 
 
 Is wasteful, and ridiculous excess. 
 
 Pem. But that your royal pleasure must be done. 
 This act is as an ancient tale new told; 
 
 And, in the last repeating, troublesome, 
 
 Being urged at a time unseasonable. 
 
 Sal. In this, the antique and well-noted face 
 Of plain old form is much disfigured: 
 
 And like a shifted wind unto a sail, 
 
 It makes the course of thoughts to fetch about; 
 Startles and frights consideration; 
 
 Makes sound opinion sick, and truth suspected, 
 
 For putting on so new a fashion’d robe. 
 
 Pem. When workmen strive to do better than 
 well, 
 
 They do confound their skill in covetousness: 
 
 And, oftentimes, excusing of a fault, 
 
 Doth make the fault the worse by the excuse; 
 
 As patches, set upon a little breach. 
 
 Discredit more, in hiding of the fault, 
 
 Than did the fault before it was so patch’d. 
 
 Sal. To this effect, before you were new-crown’d, 
 We breathed our counsel: but it pleased your 
 highness 
 
 To overbear it; and we are all well pleased; 
 
 Since all and every part of what we would, 
 
 Doth make a stand at what your highness will. 
 
 JOHN. M3 
 
 K. John. Some reasons of this double corona- 
 tion 
 
 I have possess’d you with, and think them strong; 
 And more, more strong, (when lesser is my fear,) 
 
 I shall endue you with : Mean time, but ask 
 What you would have reform’d, that is not well; 
 And well shall you perceive, how willingly 
 I will both hear and grant you your requests. 
 
 Pem. Then I, (as one that am the tongue of 
 these, 
 
 To sound the purposes of all their hearts,) 
 
 Both for myself and them, (but, chief of all 
 Your safety, for the which myself and them 
 Bend their best studies.) heartily request 
 The enfranchisement of Arthur; whose restraint 
 Doth move the murmuring tips of discontent 
 To break into this dangerous argument,— 
 
 If, what in rest you have, in right you hold. 
 
 Why then your fears (which, as they say, attend 
 The steps of wrong,) should move you to mevr 
 up 
 
 Your tender kinsman, and to choke his days 
 With barbarous ignorance, and deny his youth 
 The rich advantage of good exercise ? 
 
 That the time’s enemies may not have this 
 To grace occasions, let it be our suit, 
 
 That you have bid us ask his liberty; 
 
 Which for our goods we do no further ask, 
 
 Than whereupon our weal, on you depending, 
 Counts it your weal, he have his liberty. 
 
 K. John. Let it be so; I do commit his youth 
 
 Enter HUBERT. 
 
 To your direction. — Hubert, what news with 
 you? 
 
 Pem. This is the man should do the bloody 
 deed; 
 
 He shew’d his warrant to a friend of mine: 
 
 The image of a wicked heinous fault 
 Lives in his eye; that close aspect of his 
 Does shew the mood of a much troubled breast; 
 And I do fearfully believe, ’tis done, 
 
 What we so fear’d he had a charge to do. 
 
 Sal. The colour of the king doth come and go, 
 Between his purpose and his conscience, 
 
 Like heralds, ’twixt two dreadful battles set; 
 
 His passion is so ripe, it needs must break. 
 
 Pem. And, when it breaks, I fear, will issue 
 thence 
 
 The foul corruption of a sweet child’s death. 
 
 K. John. We cannot hold mortality’s strong 
 hand:— 
 
 Good lords, although my will to give is living, 
 
 The suit which you demand is gone and dead: 
 
 He tells us, Arthur is deceased to-night 
 Sal. Indeed, we fear’d his sickness was past 
 cure. 
 
 Pem. Indeed, we heard how near his death he 
 was, 
 
 Before the child himself felt he was sick: 
 
 This must be answer’d either here, or hence. 
 
 K. John. Why do you bend such solemn brows 
 on me ? 
 
 Think you, I bear the shears of destiny ? 
 
 Have I commandment on the pulse of life ? 
 
 Sal. It is apparent foul play; and ’tis shame. 
 That greatness should so grossly offer it: 
 
 So thrive it in your game! and so farewell. 
 
 Pern. Stay yet lord Salisbury; I’ll go with 
 thee, 
 
 And find the inheritance of this poor child, 
 
 His little kingdom of a forced grave. 
 
KING JOHN. 
 
 544 
 
 That blood, which owed the breadth of all this 
 isle. 
 
 Three foot of it doth hold: Bad world the 
 while ! 
 
 This must not be thus borne: this will break 
 out 
 
 To all our sorrows, and ere long, I doubt. 
 
 [Exeunt Lords. 
 
 K. John. They burn in indignation; I repent, 
 There is no sure foundation set in blood ; 
 
 No certain life achieved by other’s death.— 
 
 Enter a Messenger. 
 
 A fearful eye thou hast: Where is that blood, 
 
 That I have seen inhabit in those cheeks ? 
 
 So foul a sky clears not without a storm : 
 
 Four down thy weather:—How goes all in France? 
 Mess. From France to England.—Never such a 
 power 
 
 For any foreign preparation, 
 
 Was levied in the body of a land ! 
 
 The copy of your speed is learn’d by them ; 
 
 For, when you should be told they do prepare, 
 
 The tidings come, that they are all arrived. 
 
 K. John. O, where hath our intelligence been 
 drunk ? 
 
 Where hath it slept? Where is my mother’s 
 care ? 
 
 That such an army could be drawn in France, 
 
 And she not hear of it? 
 
 Mess. My liege, her ear 
 Is stopp’d with dust; the first of April, died 
 Your noble mother: And, as I hear, my lord, 
 
 The lady Constance in a frenzy died 
 Three days before : but thiB from Humour's 
 tongue 
 
 I idly heard ; if true, or false, I know not. 
 
 K. John. Withhold thy speed, dreadful occasion! 
 O, make a league with me, till I have pleased 
 My discontented peers!—What! mother dead ? 
 How wildly then walks my estate in France!— 
 Under whose conduct came those powers of 
 France, 
 
 That thou for truth giv’st out, are landed here ? 
 Mess. Under the Dauphin. 
 
 Enter the Bastard, and PETER, of Pomfret. 
 
 K. John. Thou hast made me giddy 
 With these ill tidings.—Now, what says the world 
 To your proceedings ? do not seek to stuff 
 My head with more ill news, for it is fulL 
 Bast. But if you be afear’d to hear the worst, 
 Then let the worst, unheard, fall on your head. 
 
 K. John. Bear with me, cousin; for I was 
 amazed 
 
 Under the tide: but now I breathe again 
 Aloft the flood ; and can give audience 
 To any tongue, speak it of what it will. 
 
 Bast. How I have sped among the clergymen, 
 The sums I have collected shall express. 
 
 But, as I have travell’d hither through the land, 
 
 I find the people strangely fantasied ; 
 
 Possess’d with humours, full of idle dreams; 
 
 Not knowing what they fear, but full of fear: 
 
 And here’s a prophet, that I brought with me 
 From forth the streets of Pomfret, whom I found 
 With many hundreds treading on his heels; 
 
 To whom he sung, in rude harsh sounding rhymes, 
 That, ere the next Ascension-day, at noon, 
 
 Your highness should deliver up your crown. 
 
 K. John. Thou idle dreamer, wherefore didst thou 
 so? 
 
 Peter. Foreknowing that the truth will fall out 
 so. 
 
 K. John. Hubert, away with him; imprison 
 him; 
 
 And on that day at noon, whereon, he says, 
 
 I shall yield up my crown, let him be hang’d: 
 Deliver him to safety, and return, 
 
 For I must use thee.—0 my gentle cousin, 
 
 [Exit Hubert with Peter. 
 
 Hear’st thou the news abroad, who are arrived ? 
 Bast. The French, my lord; men’s mouths are 
 full of it: 
 
 Besides, I met lord Bigot, and lord Salisbury, 
 
 (With eyes as red as new-enkindled fire,) 
 
 And others more, going to seek the grave 
 Of Arthur,* who they say, is kill’d to-night 
 On your suggestion. 
 
 K. John. Gentle kinsman, go, 
 
 And trust thyself into their companies: 
 
 I have a way to win their loves again; 
 
 Bring them before me. 
 
 Bast. I will seek them out. 
 
 K. John. Nay, but make haste: the better foot 
 before.- 
 
 O, let me have no subject enemies, 
 
 When adverse foreigners affright my towns 
 With dreadful pomp of stout invasion!— 
 
 Be Mercury, set feathers to thy heels; 
 
 And fly, like thought, from them to me again. 
 
 Bast. The spirit of the time shall teach me 
 speed. 
 
 [Exit. 
 
 K. John. Spoke like a sprightful noble gentle¬ 
 man.— 
 
 Go after him; for he, perhaps, shall need 
 Some messenger betwixt me and the peers; 
 
 And be thou he. 
 
 Mess. With all my heart, my liege. 
 
 [Exit. 
 
 K. John. My mother dead! 
 
 Re-enter HUBERT. 
 
 Hub. My lord, they say, five moons were seen 
 to-night: 
 
 Four fix’d; and the fifth did whirl about 
 The other four in wondrous motion. 
 
 K. John. Five moons ? 
 
 Hub. Old men, and beldams, in the streets 
 Do prophesy upon it dangerously: 
 
 Young Arthur’s death is common in their mouths: 
 And when they talk of him, they shake their 
 heads, 
 
 And whisper one another in the ear; 
 
 And he that speaks, doth gripe the hearer’s 
 wrist; 
 
 Whilst he that hears, makes fearful action. 
 
 With wrinkled brows, with nods, with rolling eyes. 
 I saw a smith stand with his hammer, thus, 
 
 The whilst his iron did on the anvil cool. 
 
 With open mouth swallowing a tailor’s news; 
 Who, with his shears and measure in his hand, 
 Standing on slippers, (which his nimble haste 
 Had falsely thrust upon contrary feet,) 
 
 Told of a many thousand warlike French, 
 
 That were embattled and ranked in Kent: 
 
 Another lean unwashed artificer 
 
 Cuts off his tale, and talks of Arthur’s death. 
 
 K. John. Why seek’st thou to possess me with 
 these fears ? 
 
KING JOHN. 545- 
 
 Why urgest thou so oft young Arthur’s death ? 
 
 Thy hs.nd hath murder’d him: I had mighty cause 
 To wiBh him dead, but thou hadst none to kill him. 
 Hub. Had none, my lord I why, did you not pro¬ 
 voke me? 
 
 K John. It is the curse of kings, to be attended 
 By slaves, that take their humours for a warrant 
 To break within the bloody house of life: 
 
 And, on the winking of authority, 
 
 To understand a law; to know the meaning 
 Of dangerous majesty, when, perchance, it frowns 
 More upon humour than advised respect. 
 
 Hub. Here is your hand and seal for what 3. 
 did. 
 
 K. John. O, when the last account ’twixt heaven 
 and earth 
 
 Is to be made, then shall this hand and seal 
 Witness against us to damnation! 
 
 How oft the sight of means to do ill deeds, 
 
 Makes deeds ill done! Hadst not thou been by, 
 
 A fellow by the hand of nature mark’d. 
 
 Quoted, and signed, to do a deed of shame, 
 
 This murder had not come into my mind: 
 
 But, taking note of thy abhorr’d aspect, 
 
 Finding thee fit for bloody villainy, 
 
 Apt, liable, to be employ’d in danger, 
 
 I faintly broke with thee of Arthur’s death; 
 
 And thou, to be endeared to a king, 
 
 Made it no conscience to destroy a prince. 
 
 Hub. My lord,- 
 
 K. John. Hadst thou but shook thy head, or made 
 a pause, 
 
 When I spake darkly what I purposed; 
 
 Or turn’d an eye of doubt upon my face, 
 
 As bid me tell my tale in express words; 
 
 Deep shame had struck me dumb, made me break 
 off, 
 
 And those thy fears might have wrought fears in 
 me: 
 
 But thou didst understand me by my signs, 
 
 And didst in signs again parley with sin ; 
 
 Yea, without stop, didst let thy heart consent, 
 
 And, consequently, thy rude hand to act 
 The deed, which both our tongues held vile to 
 name. 
 
 Out of my sight, and never see me more! 
 
 My nobles leave me; and my state is braved, 
 
 Even at my gates, with ranks of foreign powers: 
 Nay, in the body of this fleshly land. 
 
 This kingdom, this confine of blood and breath, 
 
 Hostility and civil tumult reigns 
 
 Between my conscience, and my cousin’s death. 
 
 Hub. Arm you against your other enemies, 
 
 IH make a peace between your soul and you. 
 Young Arthur is alive: This hand of mine 
 Is yet a maiden and an innocent hand, 
 
 Not painted with the crimson spots of blood. 
 Within this bosom never enter’d yet 
 The dreadful motion of a murd’rous thought, 
 
 And you have slander’d nature in my form; 
 Which howsoever rude exteriorly, 
 
 Is yet the cover of a fairer mind 
 Than to be butcher of an innocent child. 
 
 K. John. Doth Arthur live ? O. haste thee to the 
 peers, 
 
 Throw this report on their incensed rage, 
 
 And make them tame to their obedience! 
 
 Forgive the comment, that my passion made 
 Upon thy feature; for my rage was blind, 
 
 And foul imaginary eyes of blood 
 Presented thee more hideous than thou art 
 O, answer not; but to my closet bring ■ 
 
 The angry lords, with all expedient hast6 : 
 
 I conjure thee but slowly; run more fast. 
 
 [Exeunt. 
 
 SCENE III.— The Same. Before the Castle. 
 
 Enter ARTHUR on the walls. 
 
 Arth. The wall is high; and yet will I leap 
 down; 
 
 Good ground, be pitiful, and hurt me not!— 
 
 There’s few, or none, do know me; if they did, 
 
 This ship-boy’s semblance hath disguised me quite^ 
 
 II am afraid; and yet I’ll venture it. 
 
 If I get down, and do not break my limbs. 
 
 I’ll find a thousand shifts to get away; 
 
 As good to die, and go, as die, and stay. 
 
 * (Leaps doien.y 
 
 O me! my uncle’s spirit is in these stones:— 
 Heaven take my soul, and England keep my bones! 
 
 (Di'S.y 
 
 Enter PEMBROKE, SALISBURY, and BIGOT. 
 Sal. Lords, I will meet him at St. Edmund’s- 
 Bury: 
 
 It is our safety, and we must embrace 
 This gentle offer of the perilous time. 
 
 Pern. Who brought that letter from the cardinal ? 
 Sal. The count Melun, a noble lord of France: 
 Whose private with me, of the Dauphin’s love, 
 
 Is much more general than these lines import. 
 
 Big. To-morrow morning let us meet him then. 
 Sal. Or, rather then set forward: for ’twill be 
 Two long days’ journey, lords, or e’er we meet. 
 Enter the Bastard. 
 
 Bast. Once more to-day well met, distemper'd 
 lords! 
 
 The king, by me, requests your presence straight 
 Sal. The king hath dispossess’d himself of us; 
 We will not line his thin bestained cloak 
 With our pure honours, nor attend the foot 
 That leaves the print of blood where’er it walks: 
 Return, and tell him so; we know the worst. 
 
 Bast. Whate’er you think, good words, I think, 
 were best. 
 
 Sal. Our griefs, and not our manners, reason 
 now. 
 
 Bast. But there is little reason in your grief; 
 Therefore, ’twere reason, you had manners now. 
 Pem. Sir, sir, impatience hath his privilege. 
 
 Bast. ’Tis true; to hurt his master, no man else. 
 Sal . This is the prison: What is he lies here ? 
 
 (Seeing Arthur..) 
 
 Pem. O death, made proud with pure and 
 princely beauty! 
 
 The earth hath not a hole to hide this deed. 
 
 Sal. Murder, as hating what himself hath done, 
 Doth lay it open, to urge on revenge. 
 
 Big. Or, when he doom’d this beauty to a grave, 
 Found it too precious-princely for a grave. 
 
 Sal. Sir Richard, what think you ? Have you be¬ 
 held, 
 
 Or have you read, or heard ? or could you think ? 
 Or do you almost think, although you see, 
 
 That you do see ? could thought, without this ob¬ 
 ject, 
 
 Form such another? This is the very top, 
 
 The height, the crest, or crest unto the crest, 
 
 Of murder’s arms: this is the bloodiest shame, 
 
 The wildest savagery, the vilest stroke, 
 
 That ever wall-eyed wrath, or staring rage 
 Presented to the tears of soli remorse. 
 
546 KING 
 
 Pern. All murders passed, do stand excused in 
 this: 
 
 And this, so sole, and so unmatchable, 
 
 Shall give a holiness, a purity, 
 
 To the yet unbegotten sin of time; 
 
 And prove a deadly bloodshed but a jest, 
 
 Exampled by this heinous spectacle. 
 
 Bast. It is a damned and a bloody work; 
 
 The graceless action of a heavy hand, 
 
 If that it be the work of any hand. 
 
 Sal. If that it be the work of any hand ?— 
 
 We had a kind of light, what would ensue: 
 
 It is the shameful work of Hubert’s hand; 
 
 The practice, and the purpose, of the king,— 
 
 From whose obedience I forbid my soul. 
 
 Kneeling before this ruin of sweet life, 
 
 And breathing to his breathless excellence 
 The incense of a vow, a holy vow, 4 
 
 Never to taste the pleasures of the world, 
 
 Never to be infected with delight, 
 
 Nor conversant with ease and idleness, 
 
 Till I have set a glory to this hand. 
 
 By giving it the worship of revengs. 
 
 Pem. & Big. Our souls religiously confirm thy 
 words. 
 
 Enter HUBERT. 
 
 Hub. Lords. I am hot with haste in seeking you. 
 Arthur doth live ; the king hath sent for you. 
 
 Sal. O, he is bold, and blushes not at death j— 
 Avaunt, thou hateful villain, get thee gonel 
 Hub. I am no villain. 
 
 Sal. Must I rob the law ? 
 
 (Drawing his sword.) 
 past. Your sword is bright, sir ; put it up again. 
 Sal. Not till I sheath it in a murderer’s skin. 
 
 Hub. Stand back, Lord Salisbury, stand back, I 
 say; 
 
 By heaven, I think, my sword’s as sharp as 
 yours: 
 
 I would not have you. lord, forget yourself, 
 
 Nor tempt the danger of my true defence ; 
 
 Lest I, by marking of your rage, forget 
 Your worth, your greatness, and nobility. 
 
 Big. Out, dunghill 1 darest thou brave a noble¬ 
 man ? 
 
 Hub. Not for my life : but yet I dare defend 
 My innocent life against an Emperor. 
 
 Sal. Thou art a murderer. 
 
 Hub. Do not prove me so; 
 
 Yet, I am none: Whose tongue soe’er speaks 
 false, 
 
 Not truly speaks; who speaks not truly, lies. 
 
 Pem. Cut him to pieces. 
 
 Bast. Keep the peace, I say. 
 
 Sal. Stand by, or I shall gall you, Faulconbridge. 
 Bast. Thou wert better gall the devil, Salis¬ 
 bury ; 
 
 If you but frown on me, or stir thy foot, 
 
 Or teach thy hasty spleen to do me shame, 
 
 I’ll strike thee dead. Put up thy sword betime ; 
 
 Or I’ll so maul you and your toasting-iron, 
 
 That you shall think the devil is come from hell. 
 Big. What wilt thou do, renowned Faulcon¬ 
 bridge ? 
 
 Second a villain, and a murderer ? 
 
 Hub. Lord Bigot, I am none. 
 
 Big. Who kill’d this prince ? 
 
 Hub. ’Tis not an hour since I left him well: 
 
 I honour’d him, I loved him ; and will weep 
 My date of life out, for his sweet life’s loss. 
 
 Sal. Trust not those cunning waters of his eyes, 
 
 JOHN; 
 
 For villainy is not without such rheum ; 
 
 And he, long traded in it, makes it seem 
 Like rivers of remorse and inuocency. 
 
 Away with me all you whose souls abhor 
 The uncleanly savours of a slaughter-house; 
 
 For I am stifled with this smell of sin. 
 
 Big. Away, toward Bury, to the Dauphin there! 
 Pem. There, tell the king, he may inquire us 
 
 Bast. Here’s a good world!—Knew you of this 
 fair work ? 
 
 Beyond the infinite and boundless reach 
 Of mercy, if thou didst this deed of death, 
 
 Art thou damn’d, Hubert. 
 
 Hub. Do but hear me, sir. 
 
 Bast. Ha! I’ll tell thee what; 
 
 Thou art damn’d as black— nay, nothing ia bo 
 black; 
 
 Thou art more deep damn’d than prince Lucifer: 
 There is not yet so ugly a fiend of hell 
 As thou shalt be, if thou didst kill this child. 
 
 Hub. Upon my soul,— 
 
 Bast. If thou didst but consent 
 To this most cruel act, do but despair, 
 
 And, if thou want’st a cord, the smallest thread 
 That ever spider twisted from her womb, 
 Willselrve to strangle thee; a rush will bo 
 A beam to hang thee on; or, wouldst thou drown 
 thyself, 
 
 Put but a little water in a spoon. 
 
 And it shall be as all the ocean. 
 
 Enough to stifle such a villain up.— 
 
 I do suspect thee very grievously. 
 
 Hub. If I in act, consent, or sin of thought, 
 
 Be guilty of the stealing that sweet breath, 
 
 Which was embounded in this beauteous clay, 
 
 Let hell want pains enough to torture me I 
 I left him welL 
 
 Bast. Go, bear him in thine arms.— 
 
 I am amazed, methinks; and lose my way 
 Among the thorns and dangers of this world.— 
 How easy dost thou take all England up; 
 
 From forth this morsel of dead royalty, 
 
 The life, the right, and truth of all this realm 
 Is fled to heaven: and England now is left 
 To tug and scramble, and to part by th’ teeth 
 The unowed interest of proud-swelling state. 
 
 Now, for the bare-pick’d bone of majesty, 
 
 Doth dogged war bristle his angry crest, 
 
 And snarleth in the gentle eyes of peace: 
 
 Now powers from home, and discontents at home, 
 Meet in one line ; and vast confusion waits 
 (As doth a raven on a sick-fallen beast) 
 
 The imminent decay of wrested pomp. 
 
 Now happy he, whose cloak and cincture can 
 Hold out this tempest Bear away that child. 
 
 And follow me with speed; I’ll to the king: 
 
 A thousand businesses are brief in hand, 
 
 And Heaven itself doth frown upon the land. 
 
 [Exeunt. 
 
 ACT V. 
 
 SCENE L —The same. A Room in the Palace. 
 
 Enter KING JOHN, PANDULPH with the crown, 
 and Attendants. 
 
 K. John. Thus have I yielded up into jour 
 hand 
 
 The circle of my glory. 
 
KING 
 
 Pand. Take again, 
 
 (Giving John the crown.) 
 From this my hand, as holding of the pope, 
 
 Your sovereign greatness and authority. 
 
 K. John. Now keep your holy word: go meet the 
 French; 
 
 And from his holiness use all your power 
 To stop their marches, ’fore we are inflamed. 
 
 Our discontented counties do revolt; 
 
 Our people quarrel w;ith obedience; 
 
 Swearing allegiance, and the love of soul, 
 
 To stranger blood, to foreign royalty. 
 
 This inundation of mistemper’d humour 
 Bests by you only to be qualified. 
 
 Then pause not; for the present time’s so sick, 
 That present medicine must be administer’d, 
 
 Or overthrow incurable ensues. 
 
 Pand. It was my breath that blew this tempest 
 up, 
 
 Upon your stubborn usage of the pope; 
 
 But, since you are a gentle convertite, 
 
 My tongue shall hush again this storm of war, 
 
 And make fair weather in your blustering land. 
 
 On this Ascension-day, remember well, 
 
 Upon your oath of service to the pope. 
 
 Go I to make the French lay down their arms. 
 
 [Exit. 
 
 K. John. Is this Ascension-day? Did not the 
 prophet 
 
 Say, that, before Ascension day at noon, 
 
 My crown I should give off ? Even so I have: 
 
 I did suppose, it should be on constraint; 
 
 But, Heaven be thank’d, it is but voluntary. 
 
 Enter the Bastard. 
 
 Bast. All Kent hath yielded; nothing there holds 
 out 
 
 Dut Dover Castle. London hath received. 
 
 Like a kind host, the Dauphin, and his powers: 
 Your nobles will not hear you but are gone 
 To offer service to your enemy ; 
 
 And wild amazement hurries up and down 
 The little number of your doubtful friends. 
 
 K. John. Would not my lords return to me 
 again. 
 
 After they heard young Arthur was alive ? 
 
 Bast. They found him dead, and cast into the 
 streets; 
 
 An empty casket, where the jewel of life 
 By some damn’d hand was robb’dand ta’en away. 
 IL John. That villain Hubert told me he did 
 live. 
 
 Bast. So, on my soul, he did, for aught he knew. 
 But wherefore do you droop? why look you sad ? 
 Be great in act, as you have been in thought; 
 
 Let not the world see fear, and sad distrust, 
 
 Govern the motion of a kingly eye: 
 
 Be stirring as the time; be fire with fire: 
 
 Threaten the threat’ner, and outface the brow 
 Of bragging horror: so shall inferior eyes, 
 
 That borrow their behaviours from the greats 
 Grow great by your example, and put on 
 The dauntless spirit of resolution. 
 
 Away; and glister like the god of war, 
 
 When he intendeth to become the field: 
 
 Show boldness and aspiring confidence. 
 
 What, shall they seek the lion in his den, 
 
 And fright him there? and make him tremble 
 there ? 
 
 O, let it not be said!—-Forage, and run 
 To meet displeasure farther from the doors; 
 
 And grapple with him, ere he comes so nigh. 
 
 JOHN, 547 
 
 K. John. The legate of the pope hath been with 
 me, 
 
 And I have made a happy peace with him; 
 
 And he hath promised to dismiss the powers 
 Led by the Dauphin. 
 
 Bast. O inglorious league! 
 
 Shall we, upon the footing of our land. 
 
 Send fair-play ordens, and make compromise^ 
 Insinuation, parley, and base truce, 
 
 To arms invasive ? shall a beardless boy, 
 
 A cocker'd silken wanton, brave our fields, 
 
 A nd flesh his spirit in a warlike soil. 
 
 Mocking the air with colours idly spread, 
 
 And find no check ? Let us, my liege, to arms? 
 Perchance, the cardinal cannot make your peace; 
 Or if he do, let it at least be said, 
 
 They saw we had a purpose of defence. 
 
 K. John. Have thou the ordering of this present 
 time. 
 
 Bast. Away, then, with good courage; yet, I 
 know, 
 
 Our party may well meet a prouder foe. 
 
 (Exeunt. 
 
 SCENE IL—A Plain near St. Edmund? s-Bury. 
 
 Enter , in arms , LEWIS, SALISBURY, MELUN, 
 PEMBROKE, BIGOT, and Soldiers. 
 
 Lew. My lord Melun, let this be copied out, 
 
 And keep it safe for our remembrance: 
 
 Return the precedent to these lords again; 
 
 That, having our fair order written down. 
 
 Both they and we, perusing o’er these notes, 
 
 May know wherefore we took the sacrament, 
 
 And keep our faiths firm and inviolable. 
 
 Sal. Upon our sides it never shall be broken. 
 And, noble Dauphin, albeit we swear 
 A voluntary zeal, and unurged faith, 
 
 To your proceedings; yet, believe me, prince, 
 
 I am not glad, that such a sore of time 
 Should seek a plaster by contemn’d revolt, 
 
 And heal the inveterate canker of one wound, 
 
 B v making many. O, it grieves my soul. 
 
 That I must draw this metal from my side, 
 
 To be a widow-maker. O, and there, 
 
 Where honourable rescue, and defence. 
 
 Cries out upon the name of Salisbury: 
 
 But such is the infection of the time, 
 
 That, for the health and physic of our right; 
 
 We cannot deal but with the very hand 
 Of stern injustice and confused wrong.— 
 
 And is’t not pity, 0 my grieved friends! 
 
 That we, the sons and children of this isle, 
 
 Were born to see so sad an hour as this; 
 
 Wherein we step after a stranger march 
 Upon her gentle bosom, and fill up 
 Her enemies’ ranks, (I must withdraw and weep 
 Upon the spot of this enforced cause,) 
 
 To grace the gentry of a land remote, 
 
 At d follow unacquainted colours here ? 
 
 What, here ?—0 nation, that thou couldst remove! 
 That Neptune’s arms, who clippeth thee about. 
 Would bear thee from the knowledge of thyself, 
 And grapple thee unto a Pagan shore; 
 
 Where these two uhristian armies might combine 
 The blood of malice in a vein of league, 
 
 And not to spend it so unneighbourly! 
 
 Lew. A noble temper dost tnou shew in this; 
 
 And great affections, wrestling in thy bosom, 
 
 Do make an earthquake of nobility. 
 
 O, what a noble combat hast thou fought, 
 
548 KING 
 
 Between compulsion and a brave respect! 
 
 Let me wipe off this honourable dew, 
 
 That silverly doth progress on thy cheeks: 
 
 My heart hath melted at a lady’s tears, 
 
 Being an ordinary inundation ; 
 
 But this effusion of such manly drops. 
 
 This shower, blown up by tempest of the soul, 
 Startles mine eyes, and makes me more amazed 
 Than had I seen the vaulty top of heaven 
 Figured quite o’er with burning meteors. 
 
 Lift up thy brow, renowned Salisbury, 
 
 And with a great heart heave away this storm: 
 Commend these waters to those baby eyes 
 That never saw the giant world enraged, 
 
 Nor met with fortune other than at feasts, 
 
 Full warm of blood, of mirth, of gossiping. 
 
 Come, come; for thou shalt thrust thy hand as 
 deep 
 
 Into the purse of rich prosperity, 
 
 As Lewis himself:—so, nobles, shall you all, 
 
 That knit your sinews to the strength of mine. 
 
 Enter PANDULPH, Attended. 
 
 And even there, methinks, an angel spake: 
 
 Look, where the holy legate comes apace, 
 
 To give us warrant from the hand of Heaven; 
 
 And on our actions set the name of right, 
 
 With holy breath. 
 
 Pand. Hail, noble Prince of France! 
 
 The next is this,—King John hath reconciled 
 Himself to Rome: his spirit is come in, 
 
 That so stood out against the holy church, 
 
 The great metropolis and see of Rome: 
 
 Therefore thy threat’ning colours now wind up, 
 And tame the savage spirit of wild war; 
 
 That, like a lion foster’d up at hand, 
 
 It may lie gently at the foot of peace, 
 
 And be no farther harmful than in shew. 
 
 Lew. Your grace shall pardon me, I will not 
 back: 
 
 1 am too high-born to be propertied, 
 
 To be a secondary at control. 
 
 Or useful serving man, and instrument, 
 
 To any sovereign state throughout the world. 
 
 Your breath first kindled the dead coal of wars 
 Between this chastised kingdom and myself, 
 
 And brought in matter, that should feed this 
 fire; 
 
 And now ’tis far too huge to be blown out 
 With that same weak wind which enkindled it. 
 
 You taught me how to know the face of right, 
 Acquainted me with interest to this land, 
 
 Yea, thrust this enterprise into my heart; 
 
 And come you now to tell me, John hath made 
 His peace with Rome? What is that peace to 
 me? 
 
 I, by the honour of my marriage bed, 
 
 After young Arthur, claim this land for mine; 
 
 And, now it is half-conquer’d, must I back, 
 
 Because that John hath made his peace with 
 Rome ? 
 
 Am I Rome’s slave? What penny hath Rome 
 borne, 
 
 What men provided, what ’munition sent, 
 
 To underprop this action ? is’t not I, 
 
 That undergo this charge ? who else but I, 
 
 And such as to my claim are liable, 
 
 Sweat in this business, and maintain this war? 
 Have I not heard these islanders shout out, 
 
 Vive le roy ! as I have bank’d their towns? 
 
 Have I not here the best cards for the game, 
 
 To win this easy match, play’d for a crown? 
 
 JOHN. 
 
 And shall I now give o’er the yielded set? 
 
 No, on my soul it never shall be said. 
 
 Pand. You look but on the outside of this work. 
 Lew. Outside or inside, I will not return, 
 
 Till my attempt so much be glorifled 
 As to my ample hope was promised, 
 
 Before I drew this gallant head of war, 
 
 And cull'd these fiery spirits from the world, 
 
 To outlook conquest, and to win renown 
 Even in the jaws of danger and of death.— 
 
 ■ , (Trumpet sounds.) 
 
 What lusty trumpet thus doth summon us? 
 
 Enter the Bastard , attended. 
 
 Bast. According to the fair play of the world, 
 
 Let me have audience; I am sent to speak:— 
 
 My holy lord of Milan, from the king 
 I come, to learn how you have dealt for him; 
 
 And, as you answer, I do know the scope 
 And warrant limited unto my tongue. 
 
 Pan. The Dauphin is too wilful-opposite, 
 
 And will not temporize with my entreaties; 
 
 He flatly says, he’ll not lay down his arms. 
 
 Bast. By all the blood that ever fury breathed. 
 The youth says well:—Now hear our English king; 
 For thus his royalty doth speak in me. 
 
 He is prepared; and reason too, he should: 
 
 This apish and unmannerly approach, 
 
 This harness’d masque, and unadvised revel. 
 
 This unhair’d sauciness, and boyish troops, 
 
 The king doth smile at; and is well prepared 
 To whip this dwarfish war, these pigmy arms, 
 From out the circle of bis territories. 
 
 That hand, which had the strength, even at your 
 door, 
 
 To cudgel you, and make you take the hatch; 
 
 To dive, like buckets, in concealed wells; 
 
 To crouch in litter of your stable planks; 
 
 To lie, like pawns, lock’d up in chests and trunks, 
 To hug with swine ; to seek sweet safety out 
 In vaults and prisons; and to thrill, and shake, 
 Even at the crying of your nation’s crow, 
 
 Thinking his voice an armed Englishman;— 
 
 Shall that victorious hand bo feebled here, 
 
 That in your chambers gave you chastisement? 
 
 No : Know, the gallant monarch is in arms; 
 
 And like an eagle o’er his aiery towers, 
 
 To souse annoyance, that comes near his nest.— 
 And you degenerate, you ingrate revolts, 
 
 You bloody Neroes, ripping up the womb 
 Of your dear mother England, blush for shame: 
 For your own ladies, and pale-visaged maids, 
 
 Like Amazons, come tripping after drums: 
 
 Their thimbles into armed gauntlets change, 
 
 Their neelds to lances, and their gentle hearts 
 To fierce and bloody inclination. 
 
 Lew. There end thy brave, and turn thy face in 
 peace; 
 
 We grant, thou cans* outscold us: fare thee well; 
 We hold our time too precious to be spent 
 With such a brabbler. 
 
 Pan. Give me leave to speak. 
 
 Bast. No, I will speak. 
 
 L w. 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 braced, 
 
 That shall reverberate all as loud as thix>®: 
 
KING 
 
 Sound but another, and another shall* 
 
 As loud as thine, rattle the welkin’s ear, 
 
 And mock the deep-mouthed thunder: for at hand 
 (Not trusting to this halting legate here, 
 
 "Whom he hath used rather for sport, than need,) 
 
 Is warlike John; and in his forehead sits 
 A bare ribb’d death, whose office is this day 
 To feast upon whole thousands of the French. 
 
 Leto. Strike up your drums, to find this danger 
 out. 
 
 Bast. And thou shalt find it, Dauphin, do not 
 doubt 
 
 [Exeunt. 
 
 SCENE III .—The same. A Field of Battle. 
 
 Alarums. Enter KING JOHN and HUBERT. 
 
 K. John. How goes the day with us ? O, tell me, 
 Hubert. 
 
 Huh. Badly, I fear: How fares your Majesty? 
 
 K. John. This fever, that hath troubled me bo 
 long, 
 
 Lies heavy on me: 0, my heart is sick! 
 
 Enter a Messenger. 
 
 Mess. My lord, your valiant kinsman, Faulcon- 
 bridge, 
 
 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. 
 This news was brought Richard but even now; 
 
 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 towards Swinstead; to my litter straight; 
 Weakness possesseth me, and I am faint. 
 
 [Exeunt. 
 
 SCENE IV .—The same. 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 
 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 
 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 at Saint Edmund’s-Rury; 
 
 JOHN. 549 
 
 Even on that altar, where he 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 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 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 lieu 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. 
 
 Sal. We do believe thee,—And beshrew my soul 
 But I do love the favour 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, 
 
 Stoop low within those bounds we have oer- 
 look’d, 
 
 And calmly run on in obedience, 
 
 Even to our ocean, to our great King John.- 
 
 My arm shall give thee help to bear thee hence; 
 For I do see the cruel pangs of death 
 Right in thine eye. — Away, my friends! New 
 flight: 
 
 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; 
 
 But stay’d, 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 tatter’d colours clearly up, 
 
 Last in the field, and almost lords of it 1 
 
 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 falf’n off; 
 
 And your supply, which you have wish’d so long, 
 Are cast away, and sunk, on Goodwin sands. 
 
 Lew. Ah, foul shrewd news!—Beshrew thy very 
 heart! 
 
550 KING 
 
 I did not think to be so sad to-night, 
 
 As this hath made me.—Who was he, that said. 
 King John did fly, 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 VL— 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? 
 
 Bub. 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. 
 
 Hub. Thou hast a perfect thought; 
 
 I will, upon all hazards, well believe 
 Thou art my friend, that know’st my tongue so 
 well: 
 
 Who art thou ? 
 
 Bast. Who thou wilt: and 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, 
 
 Have done me shame.—Brave soldier, pardon me, 
 That any accent, breaking from my tongue, 
 
 Should ’scape the true acquaintance of mine ear. 
 Bast. Come, come ; sans compliment, what news 
 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. 
 
 Bast. Shew me the very wound of this ill news; 
 
 I am no woman, I’ll not swoon at it. 
 
 Hub. The king, I fear, is poisoned by a monk r 
 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 escaped. 
 
 Away, before! conduct me to the king; 
 l doubt he will be dead, or e’er I come. 
 
 r Exeunt. 
 
 JOHN. 
 
 SCENE VIL— The Orchard of Swinstead Abbey. 
 
 Enter PRINCE HENRY, SALISBURY, and 
 BIGOT. 
 
 P. Hen. It is too late; the life of all his blood 
 Is touch’d corruptibly; and his pure brain 
 (Which some suppose the soul’s frail dwelling- 
 house) 
 
 ,Doth, by the idle comments that it makeB, 
 
 Foretell the ending of mortality. 
 
 Enter PEMBROKE. 
 
 Pem. His highness yet doth speak; and holds 
 belief, 
 
 That, being brought into the open air, 
 
 It would allay the burning quality 
 Of that fell poison which assaileth him. 
 
 P. Hen. Let him be brought into the orchard 
 here.— 
 
 Doth he still rage? 
 
 [Exit Bigot. 
 
 Pem. He is more patient 
 Than when you left him; even now he sung. 
 
 P. Hen. O vanity of sickness! fierce extremes, 
 
 In their continuance, will not feel themselves. 
 Death, having prey'd upon the outward parts, 
 Leaves them insensible; and his siege is now 
 Against the mind, the which he pricks and 
 wounds 
 
 With many legions of strange fantasies; 
 
 Which, in their throng and press to that last hold. 
 Confound themselves. ’Tia strange, that death 
 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 
 Sal. 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. 
 
 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 faredead, 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 yon 
 much, 
 
 I beg cold comfort; and you are so strait, 
 
 And so ingrateful, you deny me that 
 P. Hen. O that there was some virtue in my 
 tears, 
 
 That might relieve you! 
 
 K. John. The §altin them is hot— 
 
 Within me is a hell: and there the poison 
 Is, as a fiend, confined to tyrannize 
 An unreprievable condemned blood. 
 
KINO 
 
 Enter the Bastard. 
 
 Bast. O, I am scalded with my violent motion, 
 And spleen of speed to see your majesty. 
 
 K. John. O cousin, thou art come to set mine 
 eye: 
 
 The tackle of my heart is crack’d and burn’d; 
 
 And all these shrouds wherewith my life should 
 sail, 
 
 Are turned to one thread, one little hair: 
 
 My heart hath one poor string to stay it by, 
 
 Which holds but till thy news be uttered; 
 
 And then all this thou see’st, is but a clod, 
 
 And module of confounded royalty. 
 
 Bast. The Dauphin is preparing hitherward; 
 Where, Heaven he knows, how we shall answer 
 him; 
 
 For, in a night, the best part of my power, 
 
 As I upon advantage did remove, 
 
 Were in the washes, all unwarily. 
 
 Devoured by the unexpected flood. 
 
 (The King dies.) 
 
 Sal. You breathe these dead news in as dead an 
 ear 
 
 My liege! my lord!—But now a king,—now thus. 
 P. lien. Even so must I run on, and even so 
 stop. 
 
 What surety of the world, what hope, what stay. 
 When this was now a king, and now is clay! 
 
 Bast. Art thou gone so? I do but stay behind. 
 
 To do the office for thee of revenge; 
 
 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 ? Shew 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 heel*. 
 
 JOHN. 551 
 
 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. 
 
 Bast. 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 sea-side, 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 consummate this business happily. 
 
 Bast. Let it be so:—And you, my noble prince, 
 With other princes that may best be spared, 
 
 Shall wait upon your father’s funeral. 
 
 P. Hen. At Worcester must his body be interr’d; 
 For so he will’d it. 
 
 Bast. Thither shall it then. 
 
 And happily may your sweet self put on 
 Th 3 lineal state and glory of the land! 
 
 To whom, with all submission, on my knee, 
 
 I do bequeath my faithful services 
 An 1 true subjection everlastingly. 
 
 Sal. And the like tender of our love we make, 
 
 To rest without a spot for evermore. 
 
 P. Hen. I have a kind soul, that would give yea 
 thanks. 
 
 And knows not how to do it, but with tears. 
 
 Bast. O let us pay the time but needful woe. 
 Since it hath been beforehand with our griefs.— 
 This England never did (nor never shall) 
 
 Lie at the proud foot of a conqueror, 
 
 But when it first did help to wound itself. 
 
 Now these her princes are come home again, 
 
 Come the three corners of the world in arms. 
 
 And we shall shock them: Nought 9hall make ua 
 rue 
 
 If England to itself do rest but true. 
 
 [Exeunt. 
 
 I 
 

 • - 
 
 ■ 
 
 1 > *' :;<■ i ‘ • Cit ' 
 
 ' irs : .3 ,0 ) ?ir/j ,■ 
 
 . 
 
 ' ■ ■ • ' 
 
 - ■ •/- ■■ ' •. 
 
 t ■ ■ > ^ :» ;■ 
 
 *. V' . ; ,v ; ? »:»; 
 
 :irr t \ ■■■• 1 • I "f;ii ciTt 
 
 
 i 
 
 i‘j7* fc 
 
 • ’ ■ . • -ri- • ••• 
 
 ! 
 
 
 : ‘ • ' <Y 
 
 -■"1 ' • VJ . 
 
 ’ i jvrim IJj ;j:> -ill 5 • - V/ 
 
 1 * * '• . . 
 
 : . ! < ■! v'-v l r !l 
 
 f . . ? 
 
 i 
 
 . iud 0.51 ^ {. - ? i". 
 
 ;if- ■ ■ 
 
 ■ ’ 0J ■■ ■ V 
 
 . 
 
 : t ».» 'V r.v . • . i !.;*•;'* ;,vi 
 
 I* • ■■ • *■ ■ : T» f , >ti CT^'d?/ 
 
 • ^ 
 
 ' 
 
 '•i:'--'f < i- ;>m ri*:o5> c- f i 
 
 *; 
 
 “ . 
 
 6i;il *^X©V» 100 W 1 ,»’ ’> • i 
 
 
 ■v»r? 
 
 ♦ 
 
 \ 
 
ADVERTISEMENTS, 
 
 DICKS 
 
 For 
 
 Now Publisnmg, Price One Penny, Weekly, 
 
 ®T^Lnarx> j3lei.x 2) ^iLs^^rsL 
 
 AND 7 
 
 FTISE ACTING J3MA.3MIiL. 
 
 Representation of which there is no Legad Charge. 
 
 168 Recruiting Sergeant 
 
 169 Animal magnetism 
 270 The Confederacy 
 
 171 The Carmelite 
 
 172 The Chances 
 
 THE 
 
 1 Othello 
 
 2 School for Scandal 
 
 3 Werner 
 
 4 She Stoops to Conquer 
 
 5 The Game ster 
 € King Lear 
 
 7 New way to Pay old Debts 
 
 8 Road to Ruin 
 
 9 Merry wives of Windsor 
 
 10 The Iron Chest 
 
 11 Hamlet 
 
 12 The Stranger 
 
 13 Merchant of Venice 
 
 14 The Honeymoon 
 
 15 Pizarro 
 
 16 Man of the World 
 
 17 Much Ado about Nothing 
 
 18 The Rivals 
 
 19 Damon and Pythias 
 
 20 Macbeth 
 
 21 John Bull 
 
 22 Fazio 
 
 23 Speed the Plough 
 
 24 Jane Shore 
 
 25 Evadne 
 
 26 Antony and Cleopatra 
 
 27 The Wonder 
 
 28 The miller and his men 
 
 29 The Jealous Wife 
 
 30 Therese 
 
 31 Brutus 
 
 32 The Maid of Honour 
 
 33 A Winter’s Tale 
 
 34 The Poor Gentleman 
 
 35 The Castle Spectre 
 
 36 The Heir-at-Law 
 
 37 Love in a Village 
 
 38 A Tale of mystery 
 
 39 Douglas 
 
 40 The Critic 
 
 41 George Barnwell 
 
 42 Grecian Daughter 
 
 43 As You Like it 
 
 44 Cato 
 
 45 The Beggars’ Opera 
 
 46 Isabella 
 
 47 The Revenge 
 
 48 Lord of the Manor 
 
 49 Romeo and Juliet 
 
 50 Sardanapalus 
 
 51 The Hypocrite 
 
 52 Venice Preserved 
 
 53 The Provoked Husband 
 
 54 Clandestine marriage 
 
 55 Fair Penitent ___ 
 
 •56 Two Gentlemen of Verona 139 Tender Husband 
 
 57 Fatal Curiosity -- * 
 
 58 Belle’s Stratagem 
 
 59 Manfred 
 
 60 Rule a Wife, &c. 
 
 61 Bertram 
 
 62 Wheel of Fortune 
 
 63 The Duke ofpMilan 
 
 64 Good-Natu red Man 
 
 65 King John 
 
 66 Beaux’ Stratagem 
 
 67 Arden of Faversham 
 
 68 Trip to Scarborough 
 
 69 Lady Jane Grey 
 
 70 Rob Roy 
 
 71 Roman Father 
 
 72 The Provoked wife 
 
 73 The Two Foscari 
 
 74 Foundling of ths Forest 
 
 75 All the World’s a Stage 
 
 76 Richard III 
 
 77 Bold Stroke for a wife 
 
 78 Castle of Sorrento 
 
 79 The Inconstant 
 
 80 Guy Mannering 
 
 81 The Busy-Body 
 
 82 Tom and Jerry 
 
 83 Alexander the Great 
 
 84 The Liar 
 
 85 The Brothers 
 
 86 Way of the world 
 
 87 Cymbeline 
 
 88 She Would, &c: 
 
 89 Deserted Daughter 
 
 90 Wives as They Were, and 173 Follies of a Day 
 
 maids as They Are 174 Titus Andronicus 
 
 91 Every man fn his humour 175 Paul and Virginia 
 
 92 Midsummer Night’s Dream 176 Know your own mind 
 
 93 Tamerlane 177 The Padlock 
 
 94 Bold Stroke for a husband 178 Constant ouplo 
 
 95 Julius Caesar 
 26 All for Love 
 
 97 The Tempest 
 
 98 Richard Coeur de Lion 
 
 99 The Mourning Bride 
 
 100 The bashful man 
 
 101 Barbarossa 
 
 102 The Curfew 
 
 103 Merchant of Bruges 
 
 104 Giovanni in London 
 
 105 Timon of Athens 
 
 106 Honest Thieves 
 
 107 West Indian 
 
 108 The Earl of Essex 
 
 109 The Irish Widow 
 
 110 The Farmer’s Wife 
 
 111 Tancred and Sigismunda 
 
 112 The Panel 
 
 113 Deformed Transformed 
 
 114 The Soldier’s Daughter 
 
 115 Monsieur Tonson 
 
 116 The Black Prince 
 
 117 School for Wives 
 
 118 Coriolanus 
 
 119 The Citizen 
 
 120 The First Floor 
 
 121 The Foundling 
 
 122 Oroonoko 
 
 123 Love a-la-Mode 
 
 124 Richard II 
 
 125 Siege of Belgrade 
 
 126 Samson Agonistes 
 
 127 Maid of the mill 
 
 128 One o’Clock 
 
 129 Who’s the Dupe? 
 
 130 Mahomet 
 
 131 Duplicity 
 
 132 The Devil to Pay 
 
 133 Troilus and Cressida 
 
 134 Ways and means 
 
 135 All in the Wrong 
 
 136 Cross Purposes 
 
 137 The Orphan 
 Bon Ton 
 
 140 El Hyder 
 
 141 The Country Girl 
 
 142 Midas 
 
 143 Castle of Andalusia 
 
 144 Two Strings to your Bow 
 
 145 Measure for measure 
 
 146 The miser 
 
 147 Haunted Tower 
 
 148 The Tailors 
 
 149 Love for Love 
 
 150 Robbers of Calabria 
 
 151 Zara 
 
 152 High Life Below Stairs 
 
 153 Marino Faliero 
 
 154 The Waterman 
 
 155 Vespers of Palermo 
 
 156 The Farm-house 
 
 157 Comedy of Errors 
 
 158 The Romp 
 
 159 Distressed mother _ o 
 
 180 Atonement [ringe 242 Blue Devils 
 
 161 Three Weeks after Mar- 243 Cheats of Scapin 
 
 162 Suspicious Husband 244 Charles the Second 
 
 163 Dog of Monturgis 245 Love makes the man 
 
 164 The Heiress 246 Virginius 
 
 165 The Deserter 247 Sbhool for Arrogance 
 
 166 King Henry VIII 248 The Two Gregories 
 
 167 Comus 249 King Henry VL (2) 
 
 179 Better Late than Never 
 
 180 My Spouse and I 
 
 181 Every One has his Fault 
 
 182 The Deuce is in him 
 
 183 Adopted Child 
 
 184 Love rs’ Vows 
 
 185 Maid of the Oaks 
 
 186 The Duenna 
 
 187 Turnpike Gate 
 
 188 Lady of Lyons 
 
 189 Miss in her Teens 
 
 190 Twelfth Night 
 
 191 Lodoiska 
 
 192 Earl of Warwick 
 
 193 Fortune’s Frolics 
 
 194 Way to keep him 
 
 195 Braganza 
 
 196 No Song no Supper 
 
 197 Taming of the Shrew 
 
 198 Spanish Student 
 
 199 Double Dealer 
 
 200 Mock Doctor 
 
 201 Fashionable lover 
 
 202 The Guardian 
 
 203 Cain 
 
 204 Rosin a 
 
 205 Love’s Labour Lost 
 
 206 The Hunchback 
 
 207 The Apprentice 
 
 208 Raising the Wind 
 
 209 Lovers’ Quarrels 
 
 210 Rent Day 
 
 211 Cronohotonthologos 
 
 212 His first champagne 
 
 213 Pericles 
 
 214 Robinson Crusoe 
 
 215 He’s much to Blame 
 
 216 Ella Rosenbei’g 
 
 217 The Quaker 
 
 218 School of Reform 
 
 219 King Henry IV (1) 
 
 220 Fifteen Years of a Drunk- 302 Woman’s Wit 
 
 ard’s Life 303 The Purse 
 
 221 Thomas and Sally 304 Votary of Wealth 
 
 222 Bombastes Furioso 305 Life Buoy 
 
 223 First Love 306 Wild Oats 
 
 224 Somnambulist 307 Rook wood 
 
 225 All’s Well that Ends Well 308 Gambler’s Fate 
 
 250 Mrs. Wiggins 
 
 251 Mysterious husband 
 
 252 Heart of Midlothian 
 
 253 King Henry VI. (3) 
 
 254 Illustrious Stranger 
 
 255 Register Office 
 
 256 Dominique 
 
 257 Chapter of Accidents 
 
 258 Descarte 
 
 259 Hero and Leander 
 
 260 Cure for Heartache 
 
 261 Siege of Damascus 
 
 262 The Secret 
 
 263 Deaf and Dumb 
 
 264 Banks of the Hudson 
 
 265 The Wedding Day 
 
 266 Laugh when you can 
 
 267 What Next ? 
 
 268 Raymond and Agnes 
 
 269 Lionel and Clarissa 
 
 270 Red crow 
 
 271 The Contrivance 
 
 272 Broken Sword 
 
 273 Polly Honeycomb 
 
 274 Nell Gwynne 
 
 275 Cymon 
 
 276 Perfection 
 
 277 Count of Narbonno 
 
 278 Of Age To-morrow 
 
 279 Orphan of China 
 
 280 Pedlar’s Acre 
 
 281 Mogul’s Tale 
 
 282 Othello Travestie 
 
 283 Law of Lombardy 
 
 284 Day after the weddinff 
 
 285 The Jew & 
 
 286 Irish Tutor 
 
 287 Such Things Are 
 
 288 The Wife 
 
 291 Lying Valet 
 
 292 Lily of St. Leonards 
 
 293 Oliver Twist 
 
 294 The Housekeeper 
 
 295 Child of Nature 
 
 296 Home, Sweet Home 
 
 297 Which is the man? 
 
 298 Caius Gracchus 
 
 299 Mayor of Garratt 
 
 300 Woodman 
 
 301 Midnight our 
 
 226 Lottery Ticket 
 
 227 Gustavus Vasa 
 
 228 Sweethearts and Wives 
 
 229 Miller of Mansfield 
 
 230 Black-Eyed Snsan 
 
 231 King Henry IV (2) 
 
 232 The Station-House 
 
 233 Recruiting Officer 
 
 234 The Tower of Nesle 
 
 235 King Henry V 
 
 236 The Rendezvous 
 
 237 Appearance is Against 318 Money 
 
 309 Herne the unter 
 
 310 “Yes!” and “No!" 
 
 311 The Sea-captain 
 
 312 Eugene Aram 
 
 313 Wrecker’s Daughter 
 
 314 Alfred the Great 
 
 oxr a,nmy 
 
 o, / My Neighbour’s wifo 
 V Married Bachelor 
 317 Richelieu 
 
 Them 
 
 238 William Tell 
 
 239 Tom Thumb 
 
 240 The Rake’s Progress 
 
 241 King Henry VI (1.) 
 
 319 Ion 
 
 320 The Bridal 
 
 321 Paul Pry 
 
 322 Love-chase 
 
 323 Glencoe 
 
 oo A /Spitalfields wearer 
 ° V Stage Struck 
 
 325 Robert Macaire 
 
 326 Country Squire 
 
 327 Athenian Captive 
 tofl ( Barney the Baroa 
 
 V Happy man 
 329 Der Freischuta 
 
ADVERTISEMENTS. 
 
 330 Hash money 
 
 331 East Lynne 
 
 332 The Robbers 
 
 333 The Bottle 
 
 334 Kenilworth 
 
 335 The mountuineer 
 
 336 Simpson and Co. 
 
 337 A Roland for an Oliver 
 •>qq /Siamese Twins 
 
 *** vTurned Head 
 
 339 Maid of Croissey 
 
 340 Rip Van Winkle 
 
 341 Court Fool 
 
 342 Uncle Tom’s Cabin 
 ,,, /Deaf as a Post 
 
 ° VSoldier’s Courtship 
 
 344 Bride of Lammefnuor 
 
 345 Gwynneth Vaughan 
 
 346 Esmeralda 
 
 347 
 
 348 Town and Country 
 ojo /Middy Ashore 
 
 VMatteo Falcone 
 
 350 Duchess of Malfi 
 
 351 Naval Engagements 
 
 352 Victorine 
 
 353 Spectre Bridegroom 
 
 354 Alice Gray 
 
 ore. /Fish Out of water 
 VFamily Jars 
 
 356 Rory O’More 
 
 357 Zarah 
 
 /Love in humble Life 
 \15 Years of Labour Lost 
 359 Dream of the Future 
 o^ /Mrs. White 
 \Cherry Bounce 
 
 361 Elder Brother 
 
 362 Robber’s wife 
 
 -co /Sleeping Draught 
 000 VSmoked miser 
 
 364 Love 
 
 365 Fatal Dowry 
 o A « /Bengal Tiger 
 ** VKill or cure 
 
 367 Paul Clifford 
 
 368 Dumb man of Manchester 
 
 369 Sergeant’s Wife 
 
 370 Jonathan Bradford 
 
 371 Gilderoy 
 
 o 7 « /Diamond cut Diamond 
 VPhilippe 
 
 373 Legend of Florence 
 
 374 David Copperfield 
 
 375 Dombey and Son 
 
 376 Wardock Kennilson 
 
 377 Night and morning 
 
 378 Lucretia Borgia 
 
 379 Ernest Maltravers 
 oon /Dancing Barber 
 
 ^Turning tbe Tables 
 
 381 Poor of New York 
 
 382 St. Mary’s Eve 
 
 383 Secrets worth Knowing 
 
 384 Carpenter of Rouen 
 385Ivanhoe 
 
 386 Ladies’ elub 
 oq 7 / Hercules 
 
 V. Bears not Beasts 
 
 388 Bleak House 
 
 389 Colleen Bawn 
 
 390 The Shaughraun 
 
 391 The Octoroon 
 
 392 Sixteen String Jack 
 
 393 Barnaby Rudge 
 
 394 Cricket on the Hearth 
 
 395 Susan Hopley 
 
 396 Way to get married 
 
 397 Wandering Jew 
 
 398 Old Curiosity Shop 
 
 399 Under the G 
 
 400 Jane Eyre 
 
 401 Raffaelle 
 
 aq 2 /Hunting a Turtle 
 4 VCatching a Heiress 
 /Good Night’s Rest 
 V Lodgings for Gentlemen 
 
 404 The Wren Boys 
 
 405 (“ 
 
 £06 C lari 
 
 A(Y7 /Sudden Thoughts 
 4U/ V How to Pay the Rent 
 408 Mary, Queen of Scots 
 no /The Culprit 
 w V Boarding School 
 410 Lucille 
 ... /Four Sisters 
 41 V Nothing to Nurse 
 412 My Unknown Friend 
 .,o /Young widow 
 
 VMore Blunders than One 
 414 Woman’s Love 
 
 /A Widow’s Victim 
 ° \Day after the Fair 
 416 The Jewess 
 
 /Unfinished Gentleman 
 ' vCaptain is not A-miss 
 418 Media 
 
 i,q /The Twins 
 419 \Uncle’s Cart 
 
 422 White Boys 
 
 423 /Mistress of the mill 
 
 ° V Frederick of Prussia 
 
 424 Mabel’s curse 
 
 484 Crown Prince 
 
 485 Yew-Tree Ruins 
 
 486 Charles O’Malley 
 40 - /Bandit 
 
 ' \The snow helped 
 488 ( Jar gonello 
 
 \A marriage nooso 
 /Lost Pocket-book 
 \ Twenty and Forty 
 
 490 ( ^ a "' * n ^ove 
 
 V Woman will be a woman 
 ( Captain’s Ghost 
 
 491 V Hat-box 
 404 /No. 157 B 
 
 492 \ Lovely 
 
 4 qo /Bow Bell(e)s 
 49,5 (.Mistaken 
 /Locksmith 
 VPortmanteau 
 495 Ruth 
 
 495 Maid of Mariendorpt 
 
 497 The Turf 
 
 498 Harlequin hoax 
 
 499 Sweeney Todd 
 
 500 My Poll & Partner Joe 
 
 501 The King’s wager 
 
 502 Tower of London 
 
 425 ( Perplexing Predicament ^ 03 /Monsieur Jacques 
 
 V A Day in Paris 
 
 426 Rye-house Plot 
 
 427 Little Joekey 
 
 428 
 
 429 Dumb Conscript 
 
 430 Heart of London 
 
 431 Frankenstein 
 
 432 Fairy Circle 
 
 ...o /Sea-bathing at home 
 VWrong man 
 
 434 Farmer’s Story 
 
 435 Lady and the Devil 
 
 436 Vanderdecken 
 
 437 A poor young man 
 , Q Q /Under which king? 
 4,38 vTobit’s Dog 
 
 439 His last legs 
 
 440 Life?of an Actress 
 
 VPlot and counterplot 
 
 504 The Birthday 
 
 505 Grandfather Whitehead 
 
 506 The Stone Jug 
 
 507 Jacob Faithful 
 
 508 Jacu Ketch 
 
 509 Bold Dragoons 
 
 510 Remorso 
 
 511 Old house at home 
 
 512 Jersey Girl 
 
 513 Ilaroun Alraschid 
 
 514 Beggar’s Petition 
 *,* /Own Blue Bell 
 010 (.Grimalkin 
 
 516 Paulina 
 * 17 /Affair of honour 
 ' (.The Lancers 
 518 St. Patrick’s Eve 
 
 441 White horse of the Peppers 519 Mr. Greenfinch 
 
 442 Artist’s Wife 
 
 443 Black Domino 
 
 444 Village Outcast 
 
 445 Ten Thousand a-Year 
 
 446 Beulah Spa 
 
 447 Perils of Pippins 
 
 448 Barrack Room 
 
 449 Richard Plantagenet 
 
 450 Red Rover 
 
 451 Idiot of Heidelberg 
 
 452 The Assignation 
 
 453 Groves of Blarney 
 
 454 Ask no Questions 
 
 455 Ireland as it is 
 
 456 J onathan in England 
 
 457 Inkle and Yarico 
 
 458 Nervous man 
 
 459 Message from the Sea 
 
 460 Black Doctor 
 
 461 King O’Neil 
 
 j R9 /Forty and Fifty 
 
 462 vTom Noddy’s Secret 
 
 463 Irish Attorney 
 
 464 The Camp 
 
 465 St. Patrick’s Day 
 
 466 Strange Gentleman 
 
 467 Village Coquettes 
 
 468 Life of a woman 
 
 469 Nicholas Nickleby 
 /Is she his wife? 
 
 4/u (.The Lamplighter 
 
 471 Fernande 
 
 472 Scamps of London 
 
 473 Jessie Brown 
 
 474 Oscar, the half-blood 
 
 475 Mary Ducange 
 
 476 Narcisse 
 
 477 Little Gerty 
 
 478 Obi 
 
 479 Austerlitz 
 
 480 Grandfather’s will 
 
 481 Hidden Treasure 
 
 482 True as Steel 
 
 483 Self-Accusation , 
 
 520 The hall porter 
 621 Prisoner of War 
 r 90 /Matching-making 
 (.The Dumb Belle 
 523 Lucky horse-slioe 
 r 9 , /My wife’s dentist 
 4 \Railroad Station 
 525 The Schoolfellow 
 co/* /Woman-Hater 
 
 (.Comfortable Service 
 
 527 You can’t marry your 
 
 Grandmother 
 
 528 Rochester 
 
 529 Golden calf 
 
 530 Bride of Ludgate 
 *31 /Twice Killed 
 
 \A Day well spent 
 
 532 Tam O’Shanter 
 
 533 Woodstock 
 
 534 Jack Brag 
 
 coe /New Footman 
 V King’s Gardener 
 
 536 Woman’s Faith 
 
 537 
 
 538 Joconde 
 
 539 The Steward 
 
 540 Evil Eye 
 
 541 Sam Weller 
 
 542 Tekeli 
 
 543 
 
 544 The Roebuck 
 *.* /Little Adopted 
 
 040 V Gentleman in Difficulties 
 
 546 Wish-ton wish 
 
 547 Nick of the woods 
 
 548 Faith and Falsehood 
 
 549 Lalla Rookh 
 
 550 
 
 551 One Fault 
 
 /Jacket of Blue 
 (.Cousin Peter 
 
 553 Bubbles of the Day 
 
 554 Beau Nash 
 
 555 Pauvrette 
 
 666 Andy Blake 
 557 Blanche of Jersey 
 »» /Doctor Dilworth 
 S5f HFellow clerk 
 
 559 Pascal Bruno 
 
 560 Wicklow mountains 
 c/*i /The Pie-nic 
 
 0bi (.Railway Hotel 
 
 562 Fashionable Arrival* 
 
 563 Water-Party 
 
 ryw /Boots at the Swan 
 (.Lucky Stars 
 565 Walter Tyrrel 
 666 Izaak Walton 
 567 Wife’s Stratagem 
 /Marceline 
 003 VThe Daughter 
 
 569 Fisld of Forty Footstep* 
 
 570 The wigwam 
 
 571 CramondBrig 
 
 c 79 /Infant Phenomenon 
 VCaptain Cuttle 
 
 573 Faust 
 
 574 Jack in the water 
 
 575 Man and wife 
 
 576 A House Divided 
 
 577 John Smith 
 
 g-g /Long and Short 
 
 (.Lydia’s.Lover’s lodging 
 
 579 I and my double 
 
 580 Sons and Systems 
 
 581 My old woman 
 
 582 Life of an Actor 
 
 583 Chancery Suit 
 
 584 Bequeathed heart 
 
 585 My wife—what wife ? 
 
 5°6 Blanche Heriot 
 
 587 Lady of the Lake 
 
 588 Bill Jones 
 
 589 Americans Abroad 
 c Qn /Pleasant dreams 
 ° u V. Advice Gratis 
 
 591 The Wedding Gown 
 
 592 Dice of death 
 693 The Bottle Imp 
 594 Lost and won 
 525 Marriage 
 
 596 The Three Secrets 
 
 597 Frederick the Great 
 
 598 A libertine’s lesson 
 
 599 Jacques Strop 
 
 600 The Charming Polly 
 
 601 Life’s a lottery 
 
 r « 9 /Antony and Cleopatra 
 (.The Party wall 
 
 603 A cure for love 
 
 604 Gissipus 
 
 605 Helen Oakleigh 
 
 /. n< , /Blue-Faced Baboon 
 oub ^Ourang-Outang 
 
 607 The White Milliner 
 
 608 Perourou 
 
 6Q9 The Greek Boy 
 
 610 Robespierre 
 
 611 The Red Farm 
 
 612 Miser’s daughter 
 /Wanted, a Brigand 
 \Claude Duval 
 
 614 Camille 
 
 615 The Pride of Birth 
 
 616 Mothers and daughers 
 
 617 Belford castle 
 
 /. 1Q /Duchess of- 
 
 tus VPunch out of town 
 
 619 Thomas A’Bcckett 
 
 620 Mazeppa 
 
 621 Temptation 
 
 622 Mary Melvin 
 
 623 A Night in the Bastille 
 A9 . /Binks, the Bagman 
 
 V Dobson and Co. 
 
 625 The Blind Bargain 
 
 626 J-ne, the Licensed 
 
 Victualler’s daughter 
 /Bamboozling 
 VThe Sergeant’s Wedding 
 
 628 The Game of Love 
 
 629 Old Maids 
 
 630 Gustavus the Third 
 
 631 The Weathercock 
 
 632 Turpin** Ride to York ; 
 
ADVERTISEMENTS? 
 
 633 Doves in a Cage 
 
 634 Ocean of Life 
 (35 Nina Sforza 
 
 /Bardell v. Pickwick 
 030 \Tvvo Swindlers 
 
 637 Ambrose Gwynett 
 
 638 Hazard of the Die 
 
 639 Peer and the Peasant 
 
 706 Roll of the Drum 
 
 707 Ambassador’s Lady 
 
 708 Spring and Autumn 
 
 709 Close Siege 
 
 710 Louison 
 
 711 Our Village 
 
 712 Tempter 
 
 713 Love’s Frailties 
 
 640 One Hundred Pound Note 714 Surgeon of Paris 
 
 641 Factory Boy 
 
 642 Merchant and his Clerks 
 
 /Living Statues 
 
 643 i,My Sister Kate 
 
 644 Cavalier 
 
 645 Lottery of Life 
 
 646 False and Constant 
 
 647 Who’ll Lend me a Wife 
 
 648 ’Twould Puzzle 
 , 649 Devil’s in It 
 
 660 Love’s Sacrifice 
 /Painter of Ghent 
 
 661 \102 
 
 652 Man for the Ladies 
 
 653 You Know What 
 
 654 Gipsy King 
 
 655 Court and City 
 
 656 Gertrude’s Cherries 
 
 657 Legerdemain 
 
 658 English Etiquette 
 
 659 My Wife’s Mother 
 ^ /Humpbacked Lover 
 W|U \Patter v. Clatter 
 He! /Truth 
 
 081 ^Ringdoves 
 
 662 (whTdTd you Die? 
 
 663 Love of a Prince 
 
 664 Fanchon, the Cricket 
 
 665 Secretary 
 
 666 Bringing Home the Bride 
 
 667 Charles the First 
 
 668 Moonshine 
 
 « (dHSST 
 
 670 Brian Boroihme 
 
 671 Noyades 
 
 672 Inez de Castro 
 
 673 Love, Law, and Physic 
 
 674 Heiress of Bruges 
 
 675 Climbing Boy 
 fi76 /Married Rake 
 
 \Conquering Game 
 
 677 Haunted Inn 
 
 678 Comfortable Lodgings 
 
 679 Two Friends 
 
 680 French Spy 
 
 681 Provost of Bruges 
 
 682 Lone Hut 
 
 o a o /Peter Smink 
 083 VMrs. Smith 
 
 684 Handy Andy 
 
 685 Michael Erie 
 
 686 Old Parr 
 
 687 Tarnation Strange 
 
 688 Royal Oak 
 
 6«9 Rose of Arragon 
 
 690 Halvei, the Unknown 
 
 691 John of Procida 
 /Serenading 
 
 j 892 \Middle Temple 
 ' 693 Promise of Marriage 
 694 Chain of Gold 
 <95 Beggar’s Daughter 
 
 696 Battle of Waterloo 
 
 697 Phantom 
 108 Gil Bias 
 
 uqg /My Wife’s Out 
 
 ^Borrowing a Husband 
 
 700 Arajoon 
 
 701 Forced Marriage 
 
 702 Valsha 
 
 y 03 ^Behind the Scenes 
 
 704 Linda, the Pearl of Savoy 
 
 705 Lost Ship 
 
 715 Lord Darnley 
 
 716 School for Grown Chil¬ 
 dren 
 
 717 Riches 
 
 718 Devil in London 
 (M.P. for the llotte: 
 
 719 < Borough 
 (Grey Doublet 
 
 Con- 720 Leoln Colomba 
 [juror 721 London by Night 
 
 722 Christinas Carol 
 
 723 London Banker 
 
 «... /Day at an Inn 
 
 VGentleman in Black 
 777 Double Gallant 
 —a /Aldgato Pump 
 
 \Bump of Benevolence 
 
 779 Philosophers of Berlin 
 
 780 Tale of Two Cities 
 
 781 Ambition 
 
 7 00 . Queer Subject 
 
 ' 8 * \Deeds of Dreadful Note 
 783 Youthful Queen 
 
 7 01 /Teddy the Tiler 
 /8i \Born to Good Luck 
 
 785 Hard Times 
 
 786 Spare Bed 
 
 787 Wager 
 
 788 Fair Rosamond 
 
 789 Notoriety 
 
 790 Factory Strike 
 
 791 Point of Honour 
 
 792 Shakspeare’s Early Days 
 
 724 Muster Humphrey’s Clock 793 Folly as it Flies 
 79 . /Omnibus 7 »4 St. Clair of the 1 
 
 VMayor of Rochester 
 
 726 Game of Life 
 
 727 Deserted Village 
 
 728 Old and Young Stager 
 
 729 Follies of Fashion 
 
 730 Romance and Reality 
 
 731 Last Shilling 
 
 732 Tom Bowling 
 
 733 Love Extempore 
 
 734 Devil on Two Sticks 
 
 735 Maiden’s Fame 
 
 /How’s your Uncle 
 ‘ 8 (.Mistaken Story 
 
 737 Iu the Wrong Box 
 
 738 Martin Chuzzlewit 
 
 739 Lilian, the Show Girl 
 7 in /Man about Town 
 
 \My Friend the Captain 
 
 741 Signal 
 
 742 Whitefriars 
 
 743 Young King 
 
 744 Queen’s Champion 
 
 745 Caesar, the Watch-Dog 
 
 746 Ondiue 
 
 747 Comrades and Friends 
 
 (Personation 
 
 748 < Antony and Cleopatra 818 May Queen 
 ( Married aud Settled 819 Chimes 
 
 749 Mary Stuart 
 7 . n /Petticoat Government 
 /ou v’Tis She 
 
 751 Corsair’s Revenge 
 
 752 Corsican Brothers 
 
 753 Blind Boy 
 
 754 Ben, the Boatswain 
 
 755 Rich and Poor 
 
 756 Dumb Guide of the Tyrol 
 
 7vy /British Legion 
 ' 3/ VRifle Brigade - 
 
 758 Love Laughs at Locksmiths 829 Last Days of Pompeii 
 
 759 Sempstress 830 Luke the Labourer 
 
 760 Nelson 831 Death Fetch 
 
 761 Daughter of the Regiment 832 Maid of Athens 
 
 762 Momentous Question 833 Beggar Boy of Brussels 
 
 763 /Review 834 Scholar 
 
 (.Sylvester Daggerwood 835 Forgery 
 
 Uncle John 
 
 794 St. Clair of the Isles 
 
 795 Mutiny at the Nore 
 
 796 John Overy 
 
 797 Two Fishermen of Lynn 
 
 798 Mysterious Stranger 
 
 799 Education 
 
 800 Don Caesar de Bazan 
 
 801 Single Life 
 
 802 Married Life 
 
 803 Dream at Sea 
 «ni /'Oar Mary Anne 
 
 ^Mischief-Making 
 
 805 Agnes de Vore 
 
 806 Wreck Ashore 
 
 807 Boyne Water 
 
 or\Q /Shocking Events 
 888 (.Dead Shot 
 
 809 Lesson for Ladies 
 
 810 Love and Murder 
 
 811 Rural Felicity 
 
 812 Presumptive Evidence 
 
 813 Poor Jack 
 
 814 Abelard and Hcloise 
 
 815 Duchess de la Vaubaliere 
 
 ( John Jones 
 Christening 
 817 Isabel 
 
 816 
 
 __ Home Again 
 
 821 Henriette, the Forsaken 
 qoo /Irish Lion 
 
 822 [Brother Tom 
 
 823 Rake and his Pupil 
 
 824 Pet of the Petticoats 
 
 825 Marianne, the Child ®f 
 
 Charity 
 
 826 Toodles 
 
 827 Green Bushes 
 
 828 Don Juan 
 
 764 Love and Loyalty 
 
 765 Delusion 
 
 766 Quid pro Quo 
 
 767 Charcoal Burner 
 /Gemini 
 
 '° 8 \Lying in Ordinary 
 769 Rose of Ettrick Vale 
 7-70 /Valet de Sham 
 '' 8 \My Valet and I 
 771 Dream of Fate 
 77 „ /Maidens Beware 
 (.Pink of Politeness 
 773 Ancestress 
 
 /Is he Jealous 
 *' vThree and the Deuce 
 775 Loss of the Royal George 
 
 849 Dame de 8t. Trope* 
 
 850 Husband at Sight 
 
 851 Time Works Wonders 
 Q . 9 /Kiss in the Dark 
 882 (.Match in the Dark 
 
 853 How to Grow Rich 
 
 854 King of the Alps 
 
 855 Our New Governess 
 
 856 Victorine 
 
 857 Mysterious Family' 
 
 858 Hasty Conclusions 
 
 859 Leah the Forsaken 
 
 860 Ladies’ Battle 
 
 861 Jacopo the Bravo 
 
 862 Peter Bell the Waggoner 
 
 863 The Bear-Hunters 
 
 864 Josephine, the Child of 
 
 the Regiment 
 /Popping the Question 
 800 [Snapping Turtles IPail 
 Qca /Maid with the Milking: 
 
 866 VBilly Taylor 
 
 867 Theodore the Brigand 
 
 868 Cabdriver 
 
 869 Follies of a Night 
 
 870 Secret Service 
 
 871 Charles the Twelfth 
 
 872 Doom of Maratia 
 ™ /Welsh Girl 
 
 8/3 VPleasant Neighbour 
 
 874 Spanish Curate 
 
 875 Vampire 
 
 876 Brigand 
 
 877 Child of the Wreck 
 
 (Faint Heart Never Won 
 87S Fair Lady 
 (Peculiar Position 
 
 879 Merchant’s Wedding 
 
 880 Woman Never Vext 
 /Trip to Kissengen 
 
 881 V Garrick Fever 
 
 882 Who’s your Friend? 
 
 883 Court Favour 
 
 884 Regent 
 
 885 Ransom 
 
 886 Paris and London 
 RS7 /Hasty Conclusion 
 
 ' [Handsome Husband 
 888 Two Figaros 
 cstQ /Cabinet Question 
 88y VPrinter’s Devil 
 
 890 Grist to the Mill 
 
 891 Green-Eyed Monster 
 
 892 Reputation 
 
 eQ o /Captain of the Watch 
 8y3 [promotion 
 894 Returned “ Killed ” 
 flQ , / Loan of a Lover 
 8 “'* ) [Somebody Else 
 896 All in the Dark 
 qq 7 /My Daughter, Sir ! 
 
 8y/ [My Great Aunt 
 
 bob / Court Beauties 
 
 8y [Peter and Paul 
 
 «OQ /Jenkinses 
 
 8Jy [My Friend, the Governor 
 
 900 Bonnie Prince Charlie 
 
 901 Memoirs of the Devil 
 
 902 Ruy Bias 
 
 903 The Delinquent 
 
 904 Chain of Guilt 
 
 905 Life as It Is 
 
 837 Ellen Wareham 
 
 838 Open House 
 
 839 Second Thoughts lat-Law g 0 6 /Due Hour 
 
 840 Nicholas Flam, Attorney- 
 
 841 Snakes in the Grass 
 fli9 /23, John Street, Adelphi 
 813 \Thimble Rig 
 
 843 Sheriff of the Country 
 
 844 Happiest Day of My Life 
 
 845 Weak Points 
 
 846 Good Husbands make 
 Good Wives 
 
 o47 Duchess de la Valliere 
 /Damon and Pythias 
 848 [Two Queens 
 
 Each Play is Illustrated, and printed from the Original Work of the Author, without Abridgment. 
 To the Theatrical Profession, Amateurs, and others, this edition is invaluable, as full stage directions 
 sostumes, &c., are given. All the back numbers are in print, and can be purchased separately, one 
 penny each, or per post, l^d, [London: John Dicks, 313, Strand. All Booksellers. 
 
 V Matrimony 
 907 Smuggler Boy 
 808 Exchange no Robbery 
 
 909 Freemason 
 
 910 Simon Lee 
 
 911 Dramatist 
 
 913 Dream Spectre 
 a,, /He Lies like Truth 
 yi * ^State Secrets 
 
_ADVERTISE MENTS, __ 
 
 Now Eeady, Price 3d. 
 
 THE ACTOR’S HAKD-B00K, 
 
 AND 
 
 GUIDE TO THE STAGE FOR AMATEURS. 
 
 HOW TO STUDY. 
 
 HOW TO READ. 
 
 HOW TO DECLAIM. 
 
 HOW TO IMPROVE THE VOICE. 
 HOW TO MEMORIZE. 
 
 HOW TO MAKE UP THE FIGURE. 
 HOW TO MAKE UP THE FACE. 
 HOW TO TREAD THE STAGE. 
 
 HOW TO MANAGE THE HANDS. 
 HOW TO EXPRESS THE VARIOUS 
 PASSIONS AND EMOTIONS. 
 HOW TO DO BYE-PLAY. 
 
 HOW TO COMPORT YOURSELF AS 
 A LADY OR GENTLEMAN. 
 HOW TO OBTAIN AN ENGAGE- 
 MENT, 
 
 BY THE OLD STAGER. 
 
 London : John Dicks, 313, Strand. All Booksellers. 
 
 Now Publishing, One Penny, Weekly, 
 
 DICKS’ STANDARD FLAYS 
 
 AND 
 
 FREE ACTING DRAMA. 
 
 For the Representation of which there is no Legal Charge. 
 
 Comprising the Works of the most Celebrated Dramatists. Each Play is printed, 
 without Abridgment, from the Original work of the Author, and handsomely Illustrated. 
 
 To the Theatrical Profession, Amateurs, and others, this edition will prove invaluable, 
 as full stage directions, costumes, &c., are given. 
 
 Remit penny stamp to the Publisher, and receive a list of over Five Hundred 
 Plays already published. 
 
 London : John Dicks, 313, Strand. All Booksellers. 
 
ADVERTISEMENTS. 
 
 CELEBRATED WORKS. 
 
 THE CHEAPEST BOOHS IN THE WORLD. 
 
 THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. By John Bunyan. 
 
 PEOPLE’S EDITION, 2d.; postage, one halfpenny. Complete, from original, with out abridgment. 
 
 DON JUAN. By Lord Byron. 
 
 PEOPLE’S EDITION, o'd.; postage, lid. Complete, from original, without abridgment. 
 
 THE VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. By Oliver Goldsmith. 
 
 PEOPLE’S EDITION, 2d.; postage, one halfpenny. Complete, from original, withoutabridgment. 
 
 THE LADY OP THE LAKE. By Sir Walter Scott. 
 
 PEOPLE'S EDITION, 2d.; postage, one halfpenny. Complete, from original, without abridgment. 
 
 SIEGE OP CORINTH, PRISONER OP CHILLON, &c. By Lord Byron. 
 
 PEOPLE’S EDITION, Id.; postage, one halfpenny. Complete, from original, without abridgment. 
 
 LALLA ROOKH. By Thomas Moore. 
 
 PEOPLE’S EDITION, 3d .; postage, one halfpenny. Complete, from original, without abridgment. 
 
 THE CORSAIR. By Lord Byron. 
 
 PEOPLE'S EDITION, Id.; postage, one halfpenny. Complete, from original, without abridgment. 
 
 MARMION. By Sir Walter Scott. 
 
 PEOPLE’S EDITION, 2d.; postage, one halfpenny. Complete, from original, without abridgment 
 
 CHILDE HAROLD’S PILGRIMAGE. By Lord Byron. 
 
 PEOPLE’S EDITION, 2d.; postage, one halfpenny. Complete, from origina 1 , without abridgment. 
 
 SINDBAD THE SAILOR. Prom “ The Arabian Nights.” 
 
 PEOPLE’S EDITION, Id.; postage, one halfpenny. Complete, without abridgment. 
 
 PAUL AND VIRGINIA. By Bernardin de Saint-Pierre. 
 
 PEOPLE’S EDITION, 2d.; postage, one halfpenny. Translated from original, without abridgment. 
 
 RASSELAS, PRINCE OF ABISSINIA. By Dr. Samuel Johnson 
 
 PEOPLE’S EDITION. 2d.; postage, one penny. Complete, from original, without abridgment. 
 
 ALADDIN: or. the WONDERFUL LAMP. From “The Arabian Nights. 
 
 PEOPLE’S EDITION, Id.; postage, one halfpenny. Complete, without abridgment. 
 
 THE CASTLE OF OTRANTO. By Horace Walpole. 
 
 PEOPLE’S EDITION,2d.; postage, one halfpenny. Complete, without abridgment* 
 
 THE THREE CALENDERS. From “ The Arabian Nights.” 
 
 PEOPLE’S EDITION, 2d.; postage one halfpenny. Complete, without abridgment. 
 
 ALI BABA AND THE FORTY ROBBERS. From “ The Arabian Nights.” 
 
 PEOPLE’S EDITION, Id.; postage one halfpenny. Complete, without abridgment. 
 
 NOUREDDIN AND THE FAIR PERSIAN. From “ The Arabian Nights.” 
 
 PEOPLE’S EDITION. Id.; postage, one halfpenny. Complete, without abridgment. 
 
 ABOULHASSEN ALI EBN BECAR. From “ The Arabian Nights.” 
 
 PEOPLE’S EDITION, Id.; postage, one halfpenny. Complete, without abridgment. 
 
 THE VAMFYRE. By Lord Byron. 
 
 PEOPLE’S EDITION. Id.; postage, one halfpenny. Complete, without abridgment. 
 
 THE ACTOR’S HAND-BOOK. By The Old Stager. 
 
 PEOPLE’S EDITION, 3d.; postage one halfpenny. Complete, without abridgment. 
 
 TWO DROVERS, & AUNT MARGARET’S MIRROR. By Sir Walter Scott. 
 
 PEOPLE’S EDITION, Id.; postage, one halfpenny. Complete, without abridgment. 
 
 GANEM, THE SLAVE OF LOVE From “ The Arabian Nights.” 
 
 PEOPLE’S EDITION, Id.; postage, one halfpenny. Complete, without abridgment. 
 
 THE SURGEON’S DAUGHTER. By Sir Walter Scott. 
 
 PEOPLE’S EDITION, 2d.; postage, one halfpenny. Complete, from original, without abridgment. 
 
 ALMORAN AND HAMET. By Dr. Hawkesworth. 
 
 PEOPLE’S EDITION, 2d. ; postage, one halfpenny. Complete, from original, without abridgment. 
 
 ELIZABETH; OR, THE EXILES OF SIBERIA. By Madame Cottin. 
 
 PEOPLE'S EDITION, 2d.; postage, one halfpenny. Complete, from original, without abridgment. 
 
 STORY OF THE LITTLE HUNCHBACK. From “ The Arabian Nights.” 
 
 PEOPLE’S EDITION,2d.; postage,one halfpenny. Complete, without abridgment. 
 
 ZADIG; OR, THE BOOK OF FATE. By Voltaire. 
 
 PEOPLE’S EDITION, 2d. ; p'ostage, one halfpenny. Complete, from original, without abridgment. 
 
 SOLYMAN AND ALMENA. By Dr. John Langhorne. 
 
 PEOPLE’S EDITION, Id.; postage, one halfpenny. Complete, from original, without abridgment. 
 London : John Dicks, 313, Strand. All Booksellers. 
 

 ADVERTISEMENTS. 
 
 DICKS’ PIANOFORTE TUTOR. 
 
 This book is full music size, and contains instructions and exercises, full of simplicity and 
 melody, which will not weary the student in their study, thus rendering the work the 
 best Pianoforte Guide ever issued. It contains as much matter as those tutors for which 
 six times the amount is charged. The work is printed on toned paper of superior quality, 
 in good and large type. Price One Shilling; post free, Twopence extra. 
 
 CZERNY’S STUDIES FOR THE PIANOFORTE. 
 
 These celebrated Studies in precision and velocity, for which the usual price has been Half- 
 a-Guinea, is now issued at One Shilliug ; post free, threepence extra. Every student of 
 the Pianoforte ought to possess this companion to the tutor to assist him at obtaining 
 proficiency on the instrument. 
 
 DICKS* EDITION OF STANDARD OPERAS (full music size), with Italian, French, or German 
 and English Words. Now ready :— 
 
 Donizetti’s “ Lucia di Lammeemooe,” with Portrait and Memoir of the Composer. Price 2s. 6d. 
 Rossini’s “ II Barbiere,” with Portrait and Memoir of the Composer. Price 2s. 6d. 
 
 Elegantly bound in cloth, gilt lettered, 
 
 SIMS REEVES’ SIX CELEBRATED TENOR SONGS, Music and Words. Price One Shilling. 
 Pilgrim of Love Bishop.—Death of Nelson. Braham.—Adelaide, Beethoven.—The Thorn. Shield. 
 —The Anchor’s Weighed. Braham.—Tell me, Mary, how to Woo Thee. Hodson. 
 
 ADELINA PATTI’S SIX FAVOURITE SONGS, Music and Words. Price One Shilling. There be 
 none of Beauty’s Daughters. Mendelssohn.—Hark, hark, the Lark. Schubert.—Home, Sweet Home. 
 Bishop.—The Last Rose of Summer. T. Moore.—Where the Bee Sucks. Dr. Arne.—Tell me, my 
 Heart. Bishop. 
 
 CHARLES SANTLEY’S SIX POPULAR BARITONE SONGS. Music and Words. Price One Shilling. 
 The Lads of the Village. Dibdin.—The Wanderer. Schubert.—In Childhood My Toys. Lortzing. 
 —Tom Bowling. Dibdin.—Rock’d in the Cradle of the Deep. Knight.—Mad Tom. Purcell. 
 
 MUSICAL TREASURES.— Full Music 
 
 1 
 
 2 Anld Robin Gray (Scotch Ballad) 
 
 3 
 
 4 
 
 5 Di Pescatw-e (Song) 
 
 6 To Far-off Mountain (Duet) 
 
 7 
 
 8 A Woman’s Heart (Ballad) 
 
 9 
 
 10 Above, how Brightly Beams the Morning 
 
 11 The Marriage of the Roses (Valse) 
 
 12 Norma (Duet) 
 
 13 Lo! Heavenly Beauty (Cavatina) 
 
 14 In Childhood my Toys (Song) 
 
 15 While Beauty Clothes the Fertile Vale 
 
 16 The Harp that once through Tara’s Halls 
 
 17 
 
 18 Beethoven’s “ Andante and Variations ” 
 
 19 
 
 La Petit Fleur 
 
 Angels ever Bright and Fair 
 
 My Mother bids me Bind my Hair (Canzonet) 
 
 Hommage au Genie 
 
 See what Pretty Brooms I’ve Bought 
 
 As it Fell upon a Day (Duet) 
 
 A Life on the Ocean Wave (Song) 
 
 41 Why are you Wandering here I pray? 
 
 (Ballad) 
 
 42 A Maiden’s Prayer. 
 
 size, price Twopence. 
 
 43 Valse Brillante 
 
 44 Home, Sweet Home! (Song) 
 
 45 Oft in the Stilly Night (Song) 
 
 46 All’s Well (Duet) 
 
 47 The “ Crown Diamonds ” Fantasia 
 
 48 Hear me, dear One (Serenade) 
 
 49 Youth and Love at the Helm (Barcarolle) 
 
 50 Adelaide Beethoven (song) 
 
 51 The Death of Nelson (Song) 
 
 53 
 
 54 The Thorn (Song) 
 
 55 
 
 £6 There be none of Beauty’s Daughters (Song) 
 o7 
 
 58 I have Plucked the Fairest Flower 
 
 59 Bid Me Discourse (Song) 
 
 60 Fisher Maiden (Song) 
 
 61 Fair Agnes (Barcarolle) 
 
 62 Mow Calm and Bright (Song) 
 
 63 Woman’s Inconstancy (Song) 
 
 64 Echo Duet 
 
 65 The Meeting of the Waters (Irish Melody) 
 
 66 Lo, Here the Gentle Lark 
 
 67 Beethoven's Waltzes (Second Series) 
 
 68 Child of Earth with the Golden Hair (Song) 
 
 69 Should he Upbraid (Song) 
 
 70 Lieder ohne Worte. Nos. 4 and 9 
 
 71 Waft her, Angels , 
 
 72 Movement from Sonata in A 
 
 73 What is this Feeling? t 
 
 74 Romance in F-major 
 
 75 With Verdure Clad 
 
 76 Derniere Pensee 
 
 77 Love in her Eyes sits Playing 
 
 78 Andante from Sonata in (4 
 
 79 Yea, the L rdis Mindful of his Own 
 
 80 He shall Feed his Flock like a Shepherd 
 
 81 Pastoral Symphony 
 
 82 Impromptu in A-Fiat 
 
 83 The Hunt is Up. 
 
 84 I Dreamt that l Dwelt in Marble Hails 
 
 85 Slumber Song 
 
 London: John Dicks, 313, Strand; .and all Booksellers. 
 
 I