LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 
 
 /£ . 
 
 UNITED STATES- OF AMERICA. 
 
SHAKESPEARE'S 
 
 HISTORY OF 
 
 THE LIFE AND DEATH 
 
 OF 
 
 KING JOHN. 
 
 Edited, with Notes, 
 
 BY 
 
 WILLIAM J. ROLFE, A.M., 
 
 FORMERLY HEAD MASTER OF THE HIGH SCHOOL, CAMBRIDGE, MASS. 
 
 WITH ENGRA VINGS. 
 
 (%S-^r^ 
 
 
 -'A t 
 
 NEW YORK: 
 
 HARPER & BROTHERS, PUBLISHERS. 
 
 FRANKLIN SQUARE. 
 
 

 ENGLISH CLASSICS. 
 
 Edited by WM. J. ROLFE, A.M. 
 
 Illustrated. i6mo, Cloth, 70 cents per volume ; Paper, 50 cents per volume. 
 
 Shakespeare's Plays. 
 Othello. I Henry VIII. 
 
 Julius Caesar. j Much Ado about Nothing. 
 
 Henry V. Romeo and Juliet. 
 
 Richard II. 
 
 The Merchant of Venice. 
 A Midsummer-Night's Dream. 
 Macbeth. 
 
 As You Like It. 
 The Tempest. 
 Twelfth Night. 
 The Winter's Tale. 
 
 Hamlet. I King John. 
 
 Goldsmith's Select Poems. 
 Gray's Select Poems. 
 
 Published by HARPER & BROTHERS, New York. 
 
 Iny of the above tvorks will be sent by mail, postage -prepaid, to any part 
 of the United States, on receipt of the price. 
 
 Copyright, 1880, by Harper & Brothers. 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 The text of this edition of King John is based on that of the folio of 
 1623, collated with the leading modern editions. The chief varies lectio- 
 nes are mentioned in the Notes, and the few passages which present 
 special difficulties (like i. 1. 139, ii. I. 184, iii. 1. 280, v. 4. 11, etc.) are dis- 
 cussed at some length. 
 
 The expurgation has been limited to the omission of a single line in i. 
 1. A large part of that scene (say from line 49 to the end) may well 
 enough be skipped in reading the play in schools or " Shakespeare 
 clubs," but it is too intimately connected with the plot to be spared 
 from the printed text. 
 
 The engravings, most of which are from Knight's " Pictorial Shak- 
 spere," are meant to be "illustrations" in the strict sense of the term. 
 The figures of historical characters are from their monumental effigies 
 and other contemporaneous representations. For the cut on page in, 
 which will give a general idea of the military and priestly costume of the 
 period, see p. 176, note on Saint Edmundsbury. The "Room of State" 
 on p. 41 is an ideal sketch, but is in keeping with the architecture of 
 John's time. The view of Angiers (p. 51) is from an old print. 
 
 The book, like its predecessors, is meant to be complete in itself. 
 The references to other volumes of the series are for the most part to 
 longer notes which it did not seem best to reprint, though they may be 
 of interest to the teacher or student who will take the trouble to look 
 them up. 
 
 Cambridge, Nov. 1, 1879. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 Introduction to King John 9 
 
 I. The History of the Play 9 
 
 II. The Sources of the Plot 10 
 
 III. Critical Comments on the Play 13 
 
 KING JOHN 39 
 
 Act 1 41 
 
 " II 5i 
 
 " III - 71 
 
 " IV 92 
 
 « V in 
 
 Notes 1 29 
 
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KING JOHN. 
 
 INTRODUCTION 
 
 TO 
 
 THE LIFE AND DEATH OF KING JOHN. 
 
 I. THE HISTORY OF THE PLAY. 
 
 King John was first printed in the folio of 1623, where it 
 is entitled " The life and death of King Iohn," and occupies 
 pages 1-22 in the division of " Histories." It is the only 
 one of the undoubted works of-Shakespeare which is not en- 
 tered in the Registers of the Stationers' Company. Internal 
 evidence shows pretty clearly that it was written at about 
 the same time as Richard II; and it is probable that it 
 
IO KING JOHN. 
 
 followed rather than preceded that play. We cannot be far 
 wrong if, with Furnivall, we assign it to the year 1595. Dow- 
 den (Shahs. Primer, p. 90) also says: "The chief point of 
 difference with respect to form is that Richard II. contains 
 a much larger proportion of rhymed verse, and on the whole 
 we shall not perhaps err in regarding Richard I Las the ear- 
 lier of the two." Prof. Ward (Eng. Dram. lit. vol. i. p. 368) 
 remarks that "the play evidently belongs to the same pe- 
 riod of Shakspere's productivity as Richard II, and may be 
 dated about the same time ; probably before the body of 
 those in which he mainly followed Holinshed." Fleay makes 
 the date 1596, seeing in i. 2. 66-75, as certain other critics 
 have done, an allusion to the fleet sent against Spain in that 
 year. He believes also that " the laments of Constance for 
 Arthur's death (iii. 4) were inspired by Shakespeare's sorrow 
 for his heir and only son, Hamnet, whom he lost August 12, 
 1596." As it is included in Meres's list in his Palladis 
 Tamia (see M. N. D. p. 9), it must have been put upon the 
 stage before the publication of that book in September, 1598. 
 
 II. THE SOURCES OF THE PLOT. 
 
 King John varies from the facts of history more than any 
 other of the " Histories," being founded upon an earlier play 
 published in 1591 with the following title-page, of which 
 Halliwell gives a fac-simile : 
 
 THE I Troublesome Raigne | of lohn King of England, 
 with the dis- | couerie of King Richard Cordelions | Base 
 sonne (vulgarly named, The Ba- | stard Fawconbridge) : also 
 the I death of King lohn at Swinstead \ Abbey. \ As it was 
 {sundry times) pnblikely acted by the \ Queenes Alaieslies Play- 
 ers, in the ho- \ nourable Citie of | London. Imprinted at 
 London for Sampson Clarke, \ and are to be solde at his shop, 
 on the backe- | side of the Roy all Exchange. | 159 1. 
 
 In the year 1611 this, play was reprinted "by Valentine 
 Simmes for John Helme," with "Written by W. Sh." added 
 
INTRODUCTION. It 
 
 to the title-page ; and in a third edition, printed " by Aug : 
 Mathewes for Thomas Dewe," and brought out in 1622, it 
 was ascribed to " W. Shakespeare." This was doubtless a 
 mere trick of the publishers to help the sale of the book, as 
 the style proves conclusively that Shakespeare had no part 
 in its authorship. 
 
 While the poet follows this old play in the outlines of his 
 plot, and occasionally borrows its language, his real indebt- 
 edness to it is comparatively slight. " The main incidents 
 are the same, but Shakspere elevates and almost re-creates 
 the characters ; for the most eloquent and poetical passages 
 no original is to be found in the old play. The character 
 of the king grows more darkly treacherous in Shakspere's 
 hands : barely a hint of the earlier author suggested the 
 scene, so powerful and so subtle, in which John insinuates 
 to Hubert his murderous desires ; the boyish innocence of 
 Arthur, and the pathos of his life, become real and living as 
 they are dealt with by the imagination of Shakspere ; Con- 
 stance is no longer a fierce and ambitious virago, but a pas- 
 sionate sorrowing mother ; Faulconbridge is ennobled by a 
 manly tenderness and a purer patriotism. Shakspere depicts, 
 with true English spirit, the ambition, the political greed, the 
 faithlessness, the sophistry, of the court of Rome ; but he 
 wholly omits a ribald scene of the old play, in which the 
 licentiousness of monasteries is exposed to ridicule" (Dow- 
 den). 
 
 Gervinus, after remarking that " Shakespeare entirely fol- 
 lowed this older work in the historical matter," goes on to 
 say : " Artistically considered, he took in the outward design 
 of the piece, blended both parts into one, adhered to the 
 leading features of the characters, and finished them with 
 finer touches. . . . The older King John is a rough but not 
 a bad piece, from which the poet could have borrowed many 
 happy poetical and historical features. It possesses the old 
 stiffness, and is intermingled with Latin passages according 
 
I2 KING JOHN. 
 
 to the earlier custom, yet it is freer from the extravagances 
 of the old school, from which these historical subjects in a 
 great measure rescued us. The diffuseness in the second 
 part is heavy, and here Shakespeare with excellent tact has 
 remedied the evil by abridgment. The characters are de- 
 signed in a manner suitable for our poet's use, but they are 
 far less sustained than his. For the mere sake of speaking, 
 speeches are put into the mouth of Faulconbridge which are 
 inconsistent with his nature. Arthur, who once speaks in 
 the childish tone of his age, loses it again, and in the pathet- 
 ic scene with Hubert is a precocious disputant. How far 
 Shakespeare excelled his best contemporary poets in fine 
 feeling is evinced by his revised work as compared with this 
 older play. Shakespeare delineates his Faulconbridge (and 
 himself in him) rigidly and bitterly enough as a good Prot- 
 estant in the base treatment of Popish arrogance. In suit- 
 able passages he gives full vent to the indignation of the 
 English at Popish rule and intrigue, encroachment and op- 
 pression, which at that time was readily listened to in Lon- 
 don. But he did not go so far as to make a farce of Faul- 
 conbridge's extortions from the clergy ; ... to our poet's 
 impartial mind the dignity of the clergy, nay, even the con- 
 templativeness of cloister-life, was a matter too sacred for 
 him to introduce it in a ridiculous form into the seriousness 
 of history. There are many similar crudenesses in the old 
 piece, which Shakespeare has likewise effaced. At the mar- 
 riage treaty between Lewis and Blanche, the poor Constance 
 is present; at the indelicate discussion (i. i) between the 
 brothers Faulconbridge, their mother is introduced ; the il- 
 legitimate son subsequently threatens his own mother with 
 death if she does not confess the truth to him : this lack of 
 tenderness does not occur in Shakespeare. In another re- 
 spect also the accurate comparison of the two works is of 
 the greatest interest, if we would watch Shakespeare's depth 
 in the treatment of his poetry, as it were, in the work and in 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 13 
 
 the creation itself. In many passages of the old play, where 
 motives, delineation of character and actions, lay before him 
 in ample prolixity, he has gathered the contents of whole 
 scenes compactly into a single sentence or a single insinua- 
 tion ; he disdains superabundant perspicuity, and leaves to 
 the actor, the spectator, and the reader something for his 
 own mind to find out and to add." 
 
 III. CRITICAL COMMENTS ON THE PLAY. 
 [From Mrs. Jameson 's " Characteristics of Women" *] 
 
 Constance of Bretagne was the only daughter and heiress 
 of Conan IV., Duke of Bretagne \ her mother was Margaret 
 of Scotland, the eldest daughter of Malcolm IV. But little 
 mention is made of this princess in the old histories ; but 
 she appears to have inherited some portion of the talent and 
 spirit of her father, and to have transmitted them to her 
 daughter. The misfortunes of Constance may be said to 
 have commenced before her birth, and took their rise in the 
 misconduct of one of her female ancestors. Her great- 
 grandmother Matilda, the wife of Conan III., was distin- 
 guished by her beauty and imperious temper, and not less 
 by her gallantries. Her husband, not thinking proper to re- 
 pudiate her during his lifetime, contented himself with dis- 
 inheriting her son Hoel, whom he declared illegitimate; and 
 bequeathed his dukedom to his daughter Bertha, and her 
 husband Allan the Black, Earl of Richmond, who were pro- 
 claimed and acknowledged Duke and Duchess of Bretagne. 
 
 Prince Hoel, so far from acquiescing in his father's will, 
 immediately levied an army to maintain his rights, and a 
 civil war ensued between the brother and sister, which last- 
 ed for twelve or fourteen years. Bertha, whose reputation 
 was not much fairer than that of her mother Matilda, was 
 succeeded by her son Conan IV. He was young, and of a 
 feeble, vacillating temper, and after struggling for a few years 
 * American ed. (Boston, 1857), p. 358 fol. 
 
I4 KING JOHN 
 
 against the increasing power of his uncle Hoel, and his own 
 rebellious barons, he called in the aid of that politic and am- 
 bitious monarch, Henry II. of England. This fatal step de- 
 cided the fate of his crown and his posterity; from the mo- 
 ment the English set foot in Bretagne, that miserable country 
 became a scene of horrors and crimes — oppression and per- 
 fidy on the one hand, unavailing struggles on the other. Ten 
 years of civil discord ensued, during which the greatest part 
 of Bretagne was desolated, and nearly a third of the popula- 
 tion carried off by famine and pestilence. In the end, Conan 
 was secured in the possession of his throne by the assistance 
 of the English king, who, equally subtle and ambitious, con- 
 trived in the course of this warfare to strip Conan of most 
 of his provinces by successive treaties, alienate the Breton 
 nobles from their lawful sovereign, and at length render the 
 Duke himself the mere vassal of his power. 
 
 In the midst of these scenes of turbulence and bloodshed 
 was Constance born, in the year 1164. The English king 
 consummated his perfidious scheme of policy, by seizing on 
 the person of the infant princess, before she was three years 
 old, as a hostage for her father. Afterwards, by contracting 
 her in marriage to his third son, Geoffrey Plantagenet, he 
 ensured, as he thought, the possession of the duchy of Bre- 
 tagne to his own posterity. 
 
 From this time we hear no more of the weak, unhappy 
 Conan, who, retiring from a fruitless contest, hid himself in 
 some obscure retreat; even the date of his death is unknown. 
 Meanwhile Henry openly claimed the duchy in behalf of 
 his son Geoffrey and the Lady Constance ; and their claims 
 not being immediately acknowledged, he invaded Bretagne 
 with a large army, laid waste the country, bribed or forced 
 some of the barons into submission, murdered or imprisoned 
 others, and, by the most treacherous and barbarous policy, 
 contrived to keep possession of the country he had thus 
 seized. However, in order to satisfy the Bretons, who were 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 ■5 
 
 attached to the race of their ancient sovereigns, and to give 
 some colour to his usurpation, he caused Geoffrey and Con- 
 stance to be solemnly crowned at Rennes as Duke and 
 Duchess of Bretagne. This was in the year 1169, when 
 Constance was five and Prince Geoffrey about eight years 
 old. His father, Henry, continued to rule, or rather to rav- 
 age and oppress, the country in their name for about four- 
 teen years, during which period we do not hear of Constance. 
 She appears to have been kept in a species of constraint as 
 a hostage rather than a sovereign ; while her husband Geof- 
 frey, as he grew up to manhood, was too much engaged in 
 keeping the Bretons in order, and disputing his rights with 
 his father, to think about the completion of his union with 
 Constance, although his sole title to the dukedom was prop- 
 erly and legally in right of his wife. At length, in 1182, the 
 nuptials were formally celebrated, Constance being then in 
 her nineteenth year. At the same time, she was recognized 
 as Duchess of Bretagne de son chef (that is, in her own right) 
 by two acts of legislation, which are still preserved among 
 the records of Bretagne, and bear her own seal and signa- 
 ture. 
 
 Those domestic feuds which embittered the whole life of 
 Henry II., and at length broke his heart, are well known. 
 Of all his sons, who were in continual rebellion against 
 him, Geoffrey was the most undutiful and the most formida- 
 ble : he had all the pride of the Plantagenets, all the war- 
 like accomplishments of his two elder brothers, Henry and 
 Richard ; and was the only one who could compete with his 
 father in talent, eloquence, and dissimulation. No sooner 
 was he the husband of Constance, and in possession of the 
 throne of Bretagne, than he openly opposed his father; in 
 other words, he maintained the honour and interests of his 
 wife and her unhappy country against the cruelties and op- 
 pression of the English plunderers. # About three years 
 * Vide Darn, Histoire dc Bretagne. 
 
1 6 KING JOHN. 
 
 after his marriage, he was invited to Paris for the purpose 
 of concluding a league, offensive and defensive, with the 
 French king; in this journey he was accompanied by the 
 Duchess Constance, and they were received and entertained 
 with royal magnificence. Geoffrey, who excelled in all chiv- 
 alrous accomplishments, distinguished himself in the tourna- 
 ments which were celebrated on the occasion ; but unfortu- 
 nately, after an encounter with a French knight celebrated 
 for his prowess, he was accidentally flung from his horse, 
 and trampled to death in the lists before he could be extri- 
 cated. 
 
 Constance, being now left a widow, returned to Bretagne, 
 where her barons rallied round her, and acknowledged her 
 as their sovereign. The Salique law did not prevail in Bre- 
 tagne, and it appears that in those times the power of a fe- 
 male to possess and transmit the rights of sovereignty had 
 been recognized in several instances ; but Constance is the 
 first woman who exercised those rights in her own person. 
 She had one daughter, Elinor, born in the second year of 
 her marriage, and a few months after her husband's death 
 she gave birth to a son. The States of Bretagne were filled 
 with exultation ; they required that the infant prince should 
 not bear the name of his father — a name which Constance, 
 in fond remembrance of her husband, would have bestowed 
 on him — still less that of his grandfather Henry; but that 
 of Arthur, the redoubted hero of their country, whose mem- 
 ory was worshipped by the populace. Though the Arthur 
 of romantic and fairy legends — the Arthur of the Round 
 Table, had been dead for six centuries, they still looked for 
 his second appearance among them, according to the proph- 
 ecy of Merlin ; and now, with fond and short-sighted enthu- 
 siasm, fixed their hopes on the young Arthur as one destined 
 to redeem the glory and independence of their oppressed 
 and miserable country. But in the very midst of the rejoic- 
 ings which succeeded the birth of the prince, his grandfather, 
 
INTR OD UC TION. 1 7 
 
 Henry II., demanded to have the possession and guardian- 
 ship of his person; and on the spirited refusal of Constance 
 to yield her son into his power, he invaded Bretagne with a 
 large army, plundering, burning, devastating the country as 
 he advanced. He seized Rennes, the capital, and having 
 by the basest treachery obtained possession of the persons 
 both of the young duchess and her children, he married 
 Constance forcibly to one of his own favorite adherents, 
 Randal de Blondeville, Earl of Chester, and conferred on 
 him the duchy of Bretagne, to be held as a fief of the Eng- 
 lish crown. 
 
 The Earl of Chester, though a brave knight, and one of 
 the greatest barons of England, had no pretensions to so 
 high an alliance; nor did he possess any qualities or per- 
 sonal accomplishments which might have reconciled Con- 
 stance to him as a husband. He was a man of diminutive 
 stature and mean appearance, but of haughty and ferocious 
 manners and unbounded ambition.* In a conference be- 
 tween this Earl of Chester and the Earl of Perche, in Lin- 
 coln Cathedral, the latter taunted Randal with his insig- 
 nificant person, and called him contemptuously "Dwarf." 
 " Sayst thou so!" replied Randal; "I vow to God and our 
 Lady, whose church this is, that ere long I will seem to thee 
 high as that steeple !" He was as good as his word, when, 
 on ascending the throne of Brittany, the Earl of Perche be- 
 came his vassal. 
 
 We cannot know what measures were used to force this 
 degradation on the reluctant and high-spirited Constance; 
 it is only certain that she never considered her marriage in 
 the light of a sacred obligation, and that she took the first 
 opportunity of legally breaking from a chain which could 
 scarcely be considered as legally binding. For about a year 
 she was obliged to allow this detested husband the title of 
 Duke of Bretagne, and he administered the government with- 
 *Vide Sir Peter Levcester's Antiquities of Chester, 
 
 B 
 
jS KING JOHN. 
 
 out the slightest reference to her will, even in form, till 1189, 
 when Henry II. died, execrating himself and his undutiful 
 children. Whatever great and good qualities this monarch 
 may have possessed, his conduct in Bretagne was uniformly 
 detestable. Even the unfilial behaviour of his sons may be 
 extenuated; for while he spent his life, and sacrificed his 
 peace, and violated every principle of honour and humanity 
 to compass their political aggrandizement, he was guilty of 
 atrocious injustice towards them, and set them a bad ex- 
 ample in his own person. 
 
 The tidings of Henry's death had no sooner reached Bre- 
 tagne than the barons of that country rose with one accord 
 against his government, banished or massacred his officers, 
 and, sanctioned by the Duchess Constance, drove Randal de 
 Blondeville and his followers from Bretagne ; he retired to 
 his earldom of Chester, there to brood over his injuries and 
 meditate vengeance. 
 
 In the meantime, Richard I. ascended the English throne. 
 Soon afterwards he embarked on his celebrated expedition 
 to the Holy Land, having previously declared Prince Arthur, 
 the only son of Constance, heir to all his dominions.* 
 
 His absence, and that of many of her own turbulent barons 
 and encroaching neighbours, left to Constance and her har- 
 assed dominions a short interval of profound peace. The 
 historians of that period, occupied by the warlike exploits of 
 the French and English kings in Palestine, make but little 
 mention of the domestic events of Europe during their ab- 
 sence; but it is no slight encomium on the character of 
 Constance that Bretagne flourished under her government, 
 and began to recover from the effects of twenty years of 
 desolating war. The seven years during which she ruled as 
 an independent sovereign were not marked by any events 
 of importance; but in the year 1196 she caused her son Ar- 
 thur, then nine years of age, to be acknowledged Duke of 
 * By the treaty of Messina, 1 190. 
 
INTR OD UC TIOiV. 1 9 
 
 Bretagne by the States, and associated him with herself in 
 all the acts of government. 
 
 There was more of maternal fondness than policy in this 
 measure, and it cost her dear. Richard, that royal firebrand, 
 had now returned to England. By the intrigues and repre- 
 sentations of Earl Randal, his attention was turned to Bre- 
 tagne. He expressed extreme indignation that Constance 
 should have proclaimed her son Duke of Bretagne, and her 
 partner in power, without his consent, he being the feudal 
 lord and natural guardian of the young prince. After some 
 excuses and representations on the part of Constance, he af- 
 fected to be pacified, and a friendly interview was appointed 
 at Pontorson, on the frontiers of Normandy. 
 
 We can hardly reconcile the cruel and perfidious scenes 
 which follow with those romantic and chivalrous associations 
 which illustrate the memory of Cceur-de-Lion, the friend of 
 Blondel and the antagonist of Saladin. Constance, perfect- 
 ly unsuspicious of the meditated treason, accepted the invi- 
 tation of her brother-in-law, and set out from Rennes with a 
 small but magnificent retinue to join him at Pontorson. On 
 the road, and within sight of the town, the Earl of Chester 
 was posted with a troop of Richard's soldiery, and while the 
 duchess prepared to enter the gates, where she expected to 
 be received with honour and welcome, he suddenly rushed 
 from his ambuscade, fell upon her and her suite, put the lat- 
 ter to flight, and carried off Constance to the strong Castle 
 of St. Jaques de Beuvron, where he detained her a prisoner 
 for eighteen months. The chronicle does not tell us how 
 Randal treated his unfortunate wife during this long impris- 
 onment. She was absolutely in his power; none of her own 
 people were suffered to approach her, and whatever might 
 have been his behaviour towards her, one thing alone is cer- 
 tain, that so far from softening her feelings towards him, it 
 seems to have added tenfold bitterness to her abhorrence 
 and her scorn. 
 
20 KING JOHN. 
 
 The barons of Bretagne sent the Bishop of Rennes to 
 complain of this violation of faith and justice, and to de- 
 mand the restitution of the duchess. Richard meanly 
 evaded and temporized : he engaged to restore Constance 
 to liberty on certain conditions; but this was merely to gain 
 time. When the stipulated terms were complied with, and 
 the hostages delivered, the Bretons sent a herald to the Eng- 
 lish king to require him to fulfil his part of the treaty and 
 restore their beloved Constance. Richard replied with in- 
 solent defiance, refused to deliver up either the hostages or 
 Constance, and marched his army into the heart of the 
 country. 
 
 All that Bretagne had suffered previously was as nothing 
 compared to this terrible invasion ; and all that the humane 
 and peaceful government of Constance had effected during 
 seven years was at once annihilated. The English barons 
 and their savage and mercenary followers spread themselves 
 through the country, which they wasted with fire and sword. 
 The castles of those who ventured to defend themselves were 
 razed to the ground ; the towns and villages plundered and 
 burned, and the wretched inhabitants fled to the caves and 
 forests; but not even there could they find an asylum; by 
 the orders and in the presence of Richard, the woods were 
 set on fire, and hundreds either perished in the flames or 
 were suffocated in the smoke. 
 
 Constance, meanwhile, could only weep in her captivity 
 over the miseries of her country, and tremble with all a 
 mother's fears for the safety of her son. She had placed 
 Arthur under the care of William Desroches, the seneschal 
 of her palace, a man of mature age, of approved valour, and 
 devotedly attached to her family. This faithful servant threw 
 himself, with his young charge, into the fortress of Brest, 
 where he for some time defied the power of the English 
 king. 
 
 But notwithstanding the brave resistance of the nobles 
 
INTRODUCTION. 2 1 
 
 and people of Bretagne, they were obliged to submit to the 
 conditions imposed by Richard. By a treaty concluded in 
 1 198, of which the terms are not exactly known, Constance 
 was delivered from her captivity, though not from her hus- 
 band; but in the following year, when the death of Richard 
 had restored her to some degree of independence, the first 
 use she made of it was to divorce herself 'from Randal. She 
 took this step with her usual precipitancy, not waiting for the 
 sanction of the Pope, as was the custom in those days ; and 
 soon afterwards she gave her hand to Guy, Count de Thou- 
 ars, a man of courage and integrity, who for some time main- 
 tained the cause of his wife and her son against the power 
 of England. Arthur was now fourteen, and the legitimate 
 heir of all the dominions of his uncle Richard. Constance 
 placed him under the guardianship of the King of France, 
 who knighted the young prince with his own hand, and sol- 
 emnly swore to defend his rights against his usurping uncle 
 John. 
 
 It is at this moment that the play of King John opens ; 
 and history is followed as closely as the dramatic form 
 would allow, to the death of John. The real fate of poor 
 Arthur, after he had been abandoned by the French, and 
 had fallen into the hands of his uncle, is now ascertained ; 
 but according to the chronicle from which Shakspeare drew 
 his materials, he was killed in attempting to escape from the 
 Castle of Falaise. Constance did not live to witness this 
 consummation of her calamities. Within a few months after 
 Arthur was taken prisoner, in 1201, she died suddenly, be- 
 fore she had attained her thirty-ninth year; but the cause 
 of her death is not specified. 
 
 Her eldest daughter, Elinor, the legitimate heiress of Eng- 
 land, Normandy, and Bretagne, died in captivity, having been 
 kept a prisoner in Bristol Castle from the age of fifteen. 
 She was at that time so beautiful that she was called pro- 
 verbially " La belle Bretonne," and by the English the " Fair 
 
22 KING JOHN. 
 
 Maid of Brittany." She, like her brother Arthur, was sacri- 
 ficed to the ambition of her uncles. 
 
 Of the two daughters of Constance by Guy cle Thouars, 
 the eldest, Alice, became Duchess of Bretagne, and married 
 the Count de Dreux, of the royal blood of France. The sov- 
 ereignty of Bretagne was transmitted through her descend- 
 ants in an uninterrupted line till, by the marriage of the cel- 
 ebrated Anne de Bretagne with Charles VIII. of France, her 
 dominions were forever united with the French monarchy. 
 
 In considering the real history of Constance, three things 
 must strike us as chiefly remarkable. 
 
 First, that she is not accused of any vice or any act of in- 
 justice or violence; and this praise, though poor and nega- 
 tive, should have its due weight, considering the scanty rec- 
 ords that remain of her troubled life, and the period at which 
 she lived — a period in which crimes of the darkest dye were 
 familiar occurrences. Her father, Conan, was considered as 
 a gentle and amiable prince — "gentle even to feebleness;" 
 yet we are told that on one occasion he acted over again the 
 tragedy of Ugolino and Ruggiero, when he shut up the Count 
 de Dol, with his two sons and his nephew, in a dungeon, and 
 deliberately starved them to death; an event recorded with- 
 out any particular comment by the old chroniclers of Bre- 
 tngne. It also appears that, during those intervals when 
 Constance administered the government of her states with 
 some degree of independence, the country prospered under 
 her sway, and that she possessed at all times the love of her 
 people and the respect of her nobles. 
 
 Secondly, no imputation whatever has been cast on the 
 honour of Constance as a wife and as a woman. The old 
 historians, who have treated in a very unceremonious style 
 the levities of her great-grandmother Matilda, her grand- 
 mother Bertha, her godmother Constance, and her mother- 
 in-law Elinor, treat the name and memory of our Lady Con- 
 stance with uniform respect, 
 
INTRODUCTION-. 
 
 23 
 
 Her third marriage, with Guy de Thouars, has been cen- 
 sured as impolitic, but has also been defended ; it can hardly, 
 considering her age, and the circumstances in which she was 
 placed, be a just subject of reproach. During her hated 
 union with Randal de Blondeville, and the years passed in a 
 species of widowhood, she conducted herself with propriety; 
 at least I can rind no reason to judge otherwise. 
 
 Lastly, we are struck by the fearless, determined spirit, 
 amounting at times to rashness, which Constance displayed 
 on several occasions when left to the free exercise of her 
 own power and will ; yet we see how frequently, with all this 
 resolution and pride of temper, she became a mere instru- 
 ment in the hands of others, and a victim to the superior 
 craft or power of her enemies. The inference is unavoida- 
 ble ; there must have existed in the mind of Constance, with 
 all her noble and amiable qualities, a deficiency somewhere, 
 a want of firmness, a want of judgment or wariness, and a 
 total want of self-control. . . . 
 
 Whenever we think of Constance, it is in her maternal 
 character. All the interest which she excites in the drama 
 turns upon her situation as the mother of Arthur. Every 
 circumstance in which she is placed, every sentiment she ut- 
 ters, has a reference to him ; and she is represented through 
 the whole of the scenes in which she is engaged as alter- 
 nately pleading for the rights and trembling for the exist- 
 ence of her son. . . . 
 
 But, while we contemplate the character of Constance, she 
 assumes before us an individuality perfectly distinct from the 
 circumstances around her. The action calls forth her ma- 
 ternal feelings, and places them in the most prominent point 
 of view ; but with Constance, as with a real human being, the 
 maternal affections are a powerful instinct, modified by other 
 faculties, sentiments, and impulses, making up the individual 
 character. We think of her as a mother, because, as a mother 
 distracted for the loss of her son, she is immediately present- 
 
24 KING JOHN 
 
 ed before us, and calls forth our sympathy and our tears ; 
 but we infer the rest of her character from what we see, as 
 certainly and as completely as if we had known her whole 
 course of life. 
 
 That which strikes us as the principal attribute of Con- 
 stance is power — power of imagination, of will, of passion, of 
 affection, of pride. The moral energy, that faculty which is 
 principally exercised in self-control, and gives consistency to 
 the rest, is deficient ; or, rather, to speak more correctly, the 
 extraordinary development of sensibility and imagination, 
 which lends to the character its rich poetical colouring, leaves 
 the other qualities comparatively subordinate. Hence it is 
 that the whole complexion of the character, notwithstanding 
 its amazing grandeur, is so exquisitely feminine. The weak- 
 ness of the woman, who by the very consciousness of that 
 weakness is worked up to desperation and defiance, the fluc- 
 tuations of temper and the bursts of sublime passion, the ter- 
 rors, the impatience, and the tears, are all most true to fem- 
 inine nature. The energy of Constance not being based 
 upon strength of character, rises and falls with the tide of 
 passion. Her haughty spirit swells against resistance, and 
 is excited into frenzy by sorrow and disappointment ; while 
 neither from her towering pride nor her strength of intellect 
 can she borrow patience to submit, or fortitude to endure. 
 It is, therefore, with perfect truth of nature that Constance is 
 first introduced as pleading for peace : 
 
 "Stay for an answer to your embassy, 
 Lest unadvis'd 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." 
 
 And that the same woman, when all her passions are roused 
 by the sense of injury, should afterwards exclaim, 
 
 War, war ! no peace ! peace is to me a war ! — 
 
INTRODUCTIOX. 25 
 
 that she should be ambitious for her son, proud of his high 
 birth and royal rights, and violent in defending them — is most 
 natural ■ but I cannot agree with those who think that in the 
 mind of Constance ambition — that is, the love of dominion 
 for its own sake — is either a strong motive or a strong feel- 
 ing ; it could hardly be so where the natural impulses and 
 the ideal power predominate in so high a degree. The ve- 
 hemence with which she asserts the just and legal rights of 
 her son is that of a fond mother and a proud-spirited woman, 
 stung with the sense of injury, and herself a reigning sov- 
 ereign — by birth and right, if not in fact ; yet when bereaved 
 of her son, grief not only "fills the room up of her absent 
 child," but seems to absorb every other faculty and feeling, 
 even pride and anger. It is true tbat she exults over him 
 as one whom nature and fortune had destined to be great, 
 but in her distraction for his loss she thinks of him only as 
 her "Pretty Arthur." 
 
 " 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 !" 
 
 No other feeling can be traced through the whole of her 
 frantic scene ; it is grief only — a mother's heart-rending, 
 soul-absorbing grief— and nothing else. Not even indigna- 
 tion or the desire of revenge interferes with its soleness and 
 intensity. An ambitious woman would hardly have thus ad- 
 dressed the cold, wily Cardinal [iii. 4. 76-89] : 
 
 "And, Father Cardinal, I have heard you say, 
 That we shall see and know our friends in heaven," etc. 
 
 The bewildered pathos and poetry of this address could 
 be natural in no woman who did not unite, like Constance, 
 the most passionate sensibility with the most vivid imagina- 
 tion. 
 
 It is true that Queen Elinor calls her on one occasion 
 "ambitious Constance;" but the epithet is rather the natu- 
 
2 6 KING JOHN. 
 
 ral expression of Elinor's own fear and hatred than really 
 applicable.* Elinor, in whom age had subdued all passions 
 but ambition, dreaded the mother of Arthur as her rival in 
 power, and for that reason only opposed the claims of the 
 son ; but I conceive that in a woman yet in the prime of life, 
 and endued with the peculiar disposition of Constance, the 
 mere love of power would be too much modified by fancy 
 and feeling to be called a passion. 
 
 In fact, it is not pride, nor temper, nor ambition, nor even 
 maternal affection which in Constance gives the prevailing 
 tone to the whole character ; it is the predominance of im- 
 agination. I do not mean in the conception of the dramatic 
 portrait, but in the temperament of the woman herself. In 
 the poetical, fanciful, excitable cast of her mind, in the excess 
 of the ideal power, tinging all her affections, exalting all her 
 sentiments and thoughts, and animating the expression of 
 both, Constance can only be compared to Juliet. 
 
 In the first place, it is through the power of imagination 
 that when under the influence of excited temper Constance 
 is not a mere incensed woman ; nor does she, in the style 
 of Volumnia, "lament in anger, Juno-like," but rather like a 
 sibyl in a fury. Her sarcasms come down like thunderbolts. 
 In her famous address to Austria [iii. i. 1 14-129] : 
 
 "O Lymoges ! O Austria! thou dost shame 
 That bloody spoil ! thou slave ! thou wretch ! thou coward !" etc. 
 
 it is as if she had concentrated the burning spirit of scorn 
 and dashed it in his face ; every word seems to blister where 
 it falls. In the scolding scene between her and Queen Eli- 
 nor [ii. 1. 120 fob], the laconic insolence of the latter is com- 
 pletely overborne by the torrent of bitter contumely which 
 bursts from the lips of Constance, clothed in the most ener- 
 getic, and often in the most figurative expressions. 
 
 * " Queen Elinor saw that if he were king, how his mother, Constance, 
 would look to bear the most rule in the realm of England till her son 
 should come of a lawful a2,e to s;overn of himself." — Holinshed. 
 
INTR OD UC TION. 2 y 
 
 And in a very opposite mood, when struggling with the 
 consciousness of her own helpless situation, the same sus- 
 ceptible and excitable fancy still predominates [iii. I. 11-24]. 
 
 It is the power of imagination which gives so peculiar a 
 tinge to the maternal tenderness of Constance ; she not only 
 loves her son with the fond instinct of a mother's affection, 
 but she loves him with her poetical imagination, exults in his 
 beauty and his royal birth, hangs over him with idolatry, 
 and sees his infant brow already encircled with the diadem. 
 Her proud spirit, her ardent enthusiastic fancy, and her ener- 
 getic self-will, all combine with her maternal love to give it 
 that tone and character which belongs to her only, hence 
 that most beautiful address to her son [iii. 1. 43 fol. : "If 
 thou, that bidd'st me be content," etc.], which, coming from 
 the lips of Constance, is as full of nature and truth as of 
 pathos and poetry, and which we could hardly sympathize 
 with in any other. 
 
 It is this exceeding vivacity of imagination which in the 
 end turns sorrow to frenzy. Constance is not only a bereaved 
 and doting mother, but a generous woman, betrayed by her 
 own rash confidence ; in whose mind the sense of injury 
 mingling with the sense of grief, and her impetuous temper 
 conflicting with her pride, combine to overset her reason. 
 Yet she is not mad : and how admirably, how forcibly, she 
 herself draws the distinction between the frantic violence of 
 uncontrolled feeling and actual madness ! — 
 
 "Thou art not holy to belie me so; 
 I am not mad : this hair I tear is mine ; 
 My name is Constance ; I was Geffrey's wife ; 
 Young Arthur is my son, and he is lost : 
 I am not mad ; I would to heaven I were ! 
 For then, 't is like I should forget myself: 
 O, if I could, what grief should I forget !" 
 
 On the whole, it may be said that pride and maternal af- 
 fection form the basis of the character of Constance as it is 
 
2 3 KING JOHN. 
 
 exhibited to us ; but that these passions, in an equal degree 
 common to many human beings, assume their peculiar and 
 individual tinge from an extraordinary development of intel- 
 lect and fancy. It is the energy of passion which lends the 
 character its concentrated power, as it is the prevalence 
 of imagination throughout which dilates it into magnifi- 
 cence. 
 
 The sole deviation from history which may be considered 
 as essentially interfering with the truth of the situation is 
 the entire omission of the character of Guy de Thouars, so 
 that Constance is incorrectly represented as in a state of 
 widowhood, at a period when, in point of fact, she was mar- 
 ried. It may be observed that her marriage took place just 
 at the period of the opening of the drama ; that Guy de 
 Thouars played no conspicuous part in the affairs of Bretagne 
 till after the death of Constance ; and that the mere presence 
 of this personage, altogether superfluous in the action, would 
 have completely destroyed the dramatic interest of the situ- 
 ation. And what a situation ! One more magnificent was 
 never placed before the mind's eye than that of Constance, 
 when [iii. i], deserted and betrayed, she stands alone in her 
 despair, amid her false friends and her ruthless enemies ! 
 The image of the mother-eagle, wounded and bleeding to 
 death, yet stretched over her young in an attitude of defi- 
 ance, while all the baser birds of prey are clamouring around 
 her eyrie, gives but a faint idea of the moral sublimity of this 
 scene. Considered merely as a poetical or dramatic picture, 
 the grouping is wonderfully fine : on one side, the vulture 
 ambition of that mean-souled tyrant, John ; on the other, the 
 selfish, calculating policy of Philip : between them, balancing 
 their passions in his hand, the cold, subtle, heartless Legate ; 
 the fiery, reckless Falconbridge ; the princely Louis ; the still 
 unconquered spirit of that wrangling queen, old Elinor ; the 
 bridal loveliness and modesty of Blanche ; the boyish grace 
 and innocence of young Arthur ; and Constance in the midst 
 
INTRODUCTION. 2 g 
 
 of them, in all the state of her great grief, a grand impersona- 
 tion of pride and passion, helpless at once and desperate — 
 form an assemblage of figures, each perfect in its kind, and, 
 taken all together, not surpassed for the variety, force, and 
 splendour of the dramatic and picturesque effect. 
 
 Elinor of Guienne and Blanche of Castile, who form part 
 of the group around Constance, are sketches merely, but they 
 are strictly historical portraits, and full of truth and spirit. 
 
 At the period when Shakspeare has brought these three 
 women on the scene together, Elinor of Guienne (the daugh- 
 ter of the last Duke of Guienne and Aquitaine, and, like Con- 
 stance, the heiress of a sovereign duchy) was near the close 
 of her long, various, and unquiet life — she was nearly sev- 
 enty : and, as in early youth, her violent passions had over- 
 borne both principle and policy, so in her old age we see 
 the same character, only modified by time ; her strong in- 
 tellect and love of power, unbridled by conscience or princi- 
 ple, surviving when other passions were extinguished, and 
 rendered more dangerous by a degree of subtlety and self- 
 command to which her youth had been a stranger. Her per- 
 sonal and avowed hatred for Constance, together with its 
 motives, are mentioned by the old historians. Holinshed 
 expressly says that Queen Elinor was mightily set against 
 her grandson Arthur, rather moved thereto by envy conceived 
 against his mother than by any fault of the young prince, for 
 that she knew and dreaded the high spirit of the Lady Con- 
 stance. 
 
 Queen Elinor preserved to the end of her life her influence 
 over her children, and appears to have merited their respect. 
 While intrusted with the government, during the absence of 
 Richard I., she ruled with a steady hand, and made herself ex- 
 ceedingly popular; and as long as she lived to direct the coun- 
 sels of her son John, his affairs prospered. For that intem- 
 perate jealousy which converted her into a domestic firebrand, 
 there was at least much cause, though little excuse. Elinor 
 
3 o KING JOHN. 
 
 had hated and wronged the husband of her youth,* and she 
 had afterwards to endure the negligence and innumerable 
 infidelities of the husband whom she passionately loved jt 
 " and so the whirligig of time brought in his revenges." Eli- 
 nor died in 1203, a few months after Constance, and before 
 the murder of Arthur — a crime which, had she lived, would 
 probably never have been consummated; for the nature of 
 Elinor, though violent, had no tincture of the baseness and 
 cruelty of her son. 
 
 Blanche of Castile was the daughter of Alphonso IX. of 
 Castile, and the granddaughter of Elinor. At the time that 
 she is introduced into the drama she was about fifteen, and 
 her marriage with Louis VIII., then Dauphin, took place in 
 the abrupt manner here represented. It is not often that 
 political marriages have the same happy result. We are 
 told by the historians of that time that from the moment 
 Louis and Blanche met they were inspired by a mutual pas- 
 sion, and that during a union of more than twenty-six years 
 they were never known to differ, nor even spent more than a 
 single day asunder. 
 
 In her exceeding beauty and blameless reputation ; her 
 love for her husband, and strong domestic affections ; her 
 pride of birth and rank; her feminine gentleness of deport- 
 ment ; her firmness of temper; her religious bigotry; her 
 love of absolute power, and her upright and conscientious 
 administration of it, Blanche greatly resembled Maria The- 
 resa of Austria. She was, however, of a more cold and cal- 
 culating nature ; and in proportion as she was less amiable 
 as a woman did she rule more happily for herself and others. 
 
 * Louis VII. of France, whom she was accustomed to call, in con- 
 tempt, the monk. Elinor's adventures in Syria, whither she accompanied 
 Louis on the second Crusade, would form a romance. 
 
 f Henry II. of England. It is scarcely necessary to observe that the 
 story of Fair Rosamond, as far as Elinor is concerned, is a mere inven- 
 tion of some ballad-maker of later times. 
 
IN TROD UC TWA \ 3 1 
 
 There cannot be a greater contrast than between the acute 
 understanding, the steady temper, and the cool, intriguing 
 policy of Blanche, by which she succeeded in disuniting and 
 defeating the powers arrayed against her and her infant son, 
 and the rash confiding temper and susceptible imagination 
 of Constance, which rendered herself and her son easy vic- 
 tims to the fraud or ambition of others. Blanche, during 
 forty years, held in her hands the destinies of the greater 
 part of Europe, and is one of the most celebrated names re- 
 corded in history — but in what does she survive to us except 
 in a name ? Nor history, nor fame, though "trumpet-tongued," 
 could do for her what Shakspeare and poetry have clone for 
 Constance. The earthly reign of Blanche is over, her scep- 
 tre broken, and her power departed. When will the reign 
 of Constance cease? when will her power depart? Not 
 while this world is a world, and there exist in it human 
 souls to kindle at the touch of genius, and human hearts to 
 throb with human sympathies. 
 
 [From Dozvdeiis " Shakspere" *\ 
 Setting aside Henry VIII., a play written probably for 
 some special occasion, or upon some special occasion hand- 
 ed over to the dramatist Fletcher to complete ; setting aside 
 also the somewhat slight sketch of Edward IV. which ap- 
 pears in 3 Henry VI. and in the opening scenes of Riehard 
 III, six full-length portraits of kings of England have been 
 left by Shakspere. These six fall into two groups of three 
 each — one group consisting of studies of kingly weakness, 
 the other group of studies of kingly strength. In the one 
 group stand King John, King Richard II., and King Henry 
 VI.; in the other King Henry IV., King Henry V., and 
 King Richard III. John is the royal criminal, weak in his 
 criminality; Henry VI. is the royal saint, weak in his saint- 
 
 * Shakspere : a Critical Study of his Mind and Art, by Edward Dow- 
 den (2d ed. London, 1876), p. 168 fol. 
 
32 KING JOHN. 
 
 liness. The feebleness of Richard II. cannot be character- 
 ized in a word ; he is a graceful, sentimental monarch. 
 Richard III., in the other group, is a royal criminal, strong 
 in his crime. Henry IV., the usurping Bolingbroke, is strong 
 by a fine craft in dealing with events, by resolution and pol- 
 icy, by equal caution and daring. The strength of Henry V. 
 is that of plain heroic magnitude, thoroughly sound and sub- 
 stantial, founded upon the eternal verities. Here, then, we 
 may recognize the one dominant subject of the histories; 
 namely, how a man may fail, and how a man may succeed in 
 attaining a practical mastery of the world. These plays are, 
 as Schlegel has named them, a " mirror for kings ;" and the 
 characters of these plays all lead up to Henry V., the man 
 framed for the most noble and joyous mastery of things. 
 
 In King John the hour of utmost ebb in the national life 
 of England is investigated by the imagination of the poet. 
 The king reigns neither by warrant of a just title, nor, like 
 Bolingbroke, by warrant of the right of the strongest. He 
 knows that his house is founded upon the sand; he knows 
 that he has no justice of God and no virtue of man on which 
 to rely. Therefore he assumes an air of authority and regal 
 grandeur; but within all is rottenness and shame. Unlike 
 the bold usurper Richard, John endeavours to turn away his 
 eyes from facts of which he is yet aware; he dare not gaze 
 into his own wretched and cowardly soul. When threatened 
 by France with war, and now alone with his mother, John 
 exclaims, making an effort to fortify his heart, " Our strong 
 possession and our right for us." But Elinor, with a woman's 
 courage and directness, forbids the unavailing self-deceit : 
 
 " Your strong possession much more than your right, 
 Or else it must go wrong with you and me." 
 
 King Richard, when he would make away with the young 
 princes, summons Tyrrel to his presence, and inquires with 
 cynical indifference to human sentiment, "Dar'st thou resolve 
 
INTROD UC TION. 3 3 
 
 to kill a friend of mine ?" and when Tyrrel accepts the com- 
 mission, Richard, in a moment of undisguised exultation, 
 breaks forth with "Thou sing'st sweet music !" John would 
 inspire Hubert with his murderous purpose rather like some 
 vague influence than a personal will, obscurely as some pale 
 mist works which creeps across the fields, and leaves blight 
 behind it in the sunshine. He trembles lest he should have 
 said too much; he trembles lest he should not have said 
 enough ; at last the nearer fear prevails, and the words 
 "death," "a grave," form themselves upon his lips. Having 
 touched a spring which will produce assassination, he furtive- 
 ly withdraws himself from the mechanism of crime. It suits 
 the king's interest afterwards that Arthur should be living, 
 and John adds to his crime the baseness of a miserable at- 
 tempt by chicanery and timorous sophisms to transfer the 
 responsibility of murder from himself to his instrument and 
 accomplice. He would fain darken the eyes of his con- 
 science and of his understanding. 
 
 The show of kingly strength and dignity in which John is 
 clothed in the earlier scenes of the play must therefore be 
 recognized (although Shakspere does not obtrude the fact) 
 as no more than a poor pretence of true regal strength and 
 honour. The fact, only hinted in these earlier scenes, be- 
 comes afterwards all the more impressive, when the time 
 comes to show this dastard king, who had been so great in 
 the barter of territory, in the sale of cities, in the sacrifice of 
 love and marriage-truth to policy; now changing from pale 
 to red in the presence of his own nobles, now vainly trying to 
 tread back the path of crime, now incapable of enduring the 
 physical suffering of the hour of death. Sensible that he is 
 a king with no inward strength of justice or of virtue, John en- 
 deavours to buttress up his power with external supports; 
 against the advice of his nobles he celebrates a second coro- 
 nation, only forthwith to remove the crown from his head and 
 place it in the hands of an Italian priest. Pandulph, "of 
 
 C 
 
34 KING JOHN. 
 
 fair Millaine cardinal," who possesses the astuteness and 
 skill to direct the various conflicting forces of the time to his 
 own advantage, Pandulph is the de facto master of England, 
 and as he pleases makes peace or announces war. 
 
 The country, as in periods of doubt and danger, was " pos- 
 sessed with rumours, full of idle dreams." Peter of Pomfret 
 had announced that before Ascension-day at noon the King 
 should deliver up his crown. John submits to the degrada- 
 tion demanded of him, and has the incredible baseness to be 
 pleased that he has done so of his own free will : 
 
 "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." 
 
 After this we are not surprised that when the Bastard en- 
 deavours to rouse him to manliness and resolution — 
 
 " Away, and glister like the god of war 
 When he intendeth to become the field" — 
 
 John is not ashamed to announce the " happy peace " which 
 he has made with the Papal legate, on whom he relies for 
 protection against the invaders of England. Faulconbridge 
 still urges the duty of an effort at self-defence, for the sake 
 of honour and of safety, and the King, incapable of accept- 
 ing his own responsibilities and privileges, hands over the 
 care of England to his illegitimate nephew — " Have thou 
 the ordering of this present time." 
 
 There is little in the play of King John which strengthens 
 or gladdens the heart. In the tug of selfish power, hither 
 and thither, amid the struggle of kingly greeds and priestly 
 pride, amid the sales of cities, the loveless marriage of princes, 
 the rumours and confusion of the people, a pathetic beauty 
 illumines the boyish figure of Arthur, so gracious, so passive, 
 untouched by the rapacities and crimes of the others : 
 
INTRODUCTION. 35 
 
 " Good my mother, peace ! 
 I would that I were low laid in my grave ; 
 I am not worth this coil that 's made for me." 
 
 The voice of maternal passion, a woman's voice impotent 
 and shrill, among the unheeding male forces, goes up also 
 from the play. There is the pity of stern, armed men for 
 the ruin of a child's life. These, and the boisterous but gen- 
 uine and hearty patriotism of Faulconbridge, are the only 
 presences of human virtue or beauty which are to be per- 
 ceived in the degenerate world depicted by Shakspere. And 
 the end, like what preceded it, is miserable. The king lies 
 poisoned, overmastered by mere physical agony, agony which 
 leaves little room for any pangs of conscience, were the pal- 
 sied moral nature of the criminal capable of such nobler suf- 
 fering : 
 
 " I am a scribbled form, drawn with a pen 
 Upon a parchment, and against this fire 
 Do I shrink up." 
 
 [From Mr. F. J. FurnivalPs Introduction to the Flay*] 
 With this play of pathos and patriotism we open Shak- 
 spere's Second Period, — looking on Richard II. as the last 
 play in which ryme plays a prominent part, we take the series 
 of Henry VI and Richard III as the transition to the Sec- 
 ond Period ; — and on opening it we are struck with a greater 
 fulness of characterization and power than we saw in the 
 First-Period plays. But the whole work of Shakspere is con- 
 tinuous. King John is very closely linkt with Richard III 
 In both plays we have cruel uncles planning their nephews' 
 murder, because the boys stand between them and the crown. 
 In both we have distracted mothers overwhelmd with grief. 
 In both we have prophecies of ruin and curses on the mur- 
 derers, and in both the fulfilment of these. In both we have 
 the kingdom divided against itself, and the horrors of civil 
 
 * The leopold Shakspere (London, 1877), p. xl. 
 
3 6 KING JOHN 
 
 war. In both we have the same lesson of the danger of di- 
 vision taught to the discontented English parties of Shak- 
 spere's own day. Richard III. is an example of the misgov- 
 ernment of a cruel tyrant; King John of the misgovernment 
 of a selfish coward. But in John we have the mother's pa- 
 thetic lament for her child far developt above that of Queen 
 Elizabeth's for her murderd innocents, and far more touch- 
 ing than the laments of Queen Margaret and the Duchess 
 of York, while the pathos of the stifled children's death is 
 heightend in that of Arthur. The temptation scene of John 
 and Hubert repeats that of Richard and Tyrrel. The Bas- 
 tard's statement of his motives, "Gain, be my lord," etc., is 
 like that of Richard the Third's about his villany. (The 
 Bastard's speech on commodity may be compard with Lu- 
 crece's reproaches to opportunity.) Besides the boy's plead- 
 ing for his life, besides his piteous death and the mother's 
 cry for him, which comes home to every parent who has lost 
 a child, we have in the play the spirit of Elizabethan Eng- 
 land's defiance to the foreigner* and the Pope. King John 
 is founded on the old play of The Troublesome Raigne of 
 King John, 1591.! Shakspere alters the old play in eight 
 
 * "The great lesson taught in the last lines of the play should be more 
 brought out. King, nobles, claimant, all lean on foreign help, and all find 
 it a broken reed which pierces their hands." — C. Hargrove. Besides the 
 passage usually cited from Andrew Boorde for these last lines, he has an- 
 other nearer to Shakspere's words : " I think if all the world were set 
 against England, it might neuer be conquered, they beyng treue within 
 them selfe." — 1542 (pr. 1547), Introduction, p. 164 of my ed. 1870. 
 
 t It is the old play re-written. The two must be read together and 
 compard, to see what genius makes out of ordinary work. The extreme 
 Protestant tone "of the old play is much modified by Shakspere. And as 
 Prof. Deli us notices {Nezv Shakspere Society's Transactions, 1875-6, Part 
 II.), Shakspere only tells certain incidents that the old play acts, as Fal- 
 conbridge ransacking the churches, arresting Peter of Pomfret on the 
 stage ; John's meal and poisoning, the death of the monk who poisons 
 him, and Falconbridge's stabbing the abbot. Falconbridge's soliloquies 
 are new too. On the many variations from history in King yohn, see 
 
INTRODUCTION. 37 
 
 chief political points, — as shown by Mr. Richard Simpson in 
 the New Shakspere Society's Transactions, 1874,* — in order 
 to bring the play closer home to his hearers, and the circum- 
 stances of his time, — the disputed succession of Elizabeth, 
 
 T. P. Courtenay's Commentaries oji the Historical Plays of Shakspere, two 
 vols. Colburn, 1840, a book indispensable to the student of these plays. 
 The old Troublesome Raigue of 1 594 is reprinted in Hazlitt's Shakspere 's 
 library, Part II. vol. i. p. 212 [also in Fleay's ed. of KingJohri\. 
 
 * These points are stated by Mr. Simpson thus : 
 
 " 1. In Shakspere, John is told by his own mother that he must rely 
 on his 'strong possession,' not on his right; and the suggestion of the 
 old play that Arthur, being ' but young and yet unmeet to reign,' was 
 therefore to be passed over, is thrown out. 
 
 2. Elinor tells Constance that she can 'produce a will that bars the 
 title' of Arthur. 
 
 3. History is altered to heighten and refine the characters of Arthur 
 and Constance. 
 
 4. John's loss of his French possessions is accentuated by the exag- 
 geration of the dowry given to Blanch. 
 
 5. The scenes where John first persuades Hubert to murder Arthur, 
 and then reproaches him for it, are inventions of Shakspere. 
 
 6. The compression of John's four wars into two, though absolutely 
 necessary for dramatic arrangement, is so managed as to have an Eliza- 
 bethan bearing. Of these two wars the poet makes the first to concern 
 Arthur's title, without any religious or ecclesiastical motive. The second 
 he makes to be in revenge for Arthur's death, with an ecclesiastical mo- 
 tive added in John's excommunication. This is wholly unhistorical. No 
 English lord interfered in behalf of Arthur, whose death raised no com- 
 motion in England, and was long past and forgotten before the con- 
 troversy with the pope about Langton began. The confederacy between 
 the barons and Lewis was ten years after Arthur's death, with which it 
 had nothing to do. . . . 
 
 7. Pandulph insinuates to Lewis that it is his interest to abstain from 
 interference till John's murder of his nephew should make interference 
 profitable to himself. 
 
 8. Melun's confession of Lewis's intended treachery to the barons is 
 the occasion of their return to allegiance. 
 
 Every one of these points, in which the poet deviates from the Chron- 
 icles, is so turned as to contain indirect references and allusions to con- 
 temporary politics, or to events which had a decisive influence on them." 
 —Ed. 
 
38 KING JOHN 
 
 and the interference of Spain and the Pope. The old play- 
 writer made the murder of Arthur, as Mr. Lloyd has notist,* 
 the turning-point between the high-spirited success of John 
 at first and his dejection and disgrace at last ; and he, too, 
 fixt on the assertion of national independence against in- 
 vading Frenchmen and encroaching ecclesiastics as the true 
 principle of dramatic action of John's time. So long as John 
 is the impersonator of England, of defiance to the foreigner, 
 and opposition to the Pope, so long is he a hero. But he is 
 bold outside only, only politically; inside, morally, he is a 
 coward, sneak, and skunk. See how his nature comes out 
 in the hints for the murder of Arthur, his turning on Hubert 
 when he thinks the murder will bring evil to himself, and his 
 imploring Falconbridge to deny it. His death ought, of 
 course, dramatically to have followd from some act of his 
 in the play, as revenge for the murder of Arthur, or his plun- 
 dering the abbots or abbeys, or opposing the Pope. The 
 author of The Troublesome Raigne, with a true instinct, made 
 a monk murder John out of revenge for his anti-Papal patri- 
 otism. But Shakspere, unfortunately, set this story aside, 
 though there was some warrant for it in Holinshed, and thus 
 left a serious blot on his drama which it is impossible to re- 
 move. The character which to me stands foremost in John 
 is Constance, with that most touching expression of grief for 
 the son she had lost. Beside her cry, the tender pleading 
 of Arthur for his life is heard, and both are backt by the 
 rough voice of Falconbridge, who, Englishman-like, depreci- 
 ates his own motives at first, but is lifted by patriotism into 
 a gallant soldier, while his deep moral nature shows itself in 
 his heartfelt indignation at Arthur's supposd murder. The 
 rhetoric of the earlier historical plays is kept up in King 
 John, and also Shakspere's power of creating situations, 
 which he had possesst from the first. 
 
 * Critical Essays, G. Bell and Sons, London, 1875. 
 

 
DRAMATIS PERSONS. 
 
 King John. 
 
 Prince Henry, son to the king. 
 
 Arthur. Duke of Bretagne, nephew to the king. 
 -♦The Far] of Pembroke. 
 vThe Earl of Essex.,, 
 »..The Earl of Salisbury. 
 , The Lord Bigot. 
 
 Hubert de Burgh. 
 
 Robert Faulconbridge, son to Sir Robert Faulcon- 
 bridge. 
 
 Philip the Bastard, his half-brother. 
 
 James Gurney, servant to Lady Faulconbridge. 
 
 Peter of Pomfret, a prophet. 
 
 Philip, King of France. 
 
 Lewis, the Dauphin. 
 
 Lymoges, Duke of Austria. 
 -^ Cardinal Pandulph, the Pope's legate. 
 - Melun, a French Lord. 
 
 Chatillon, ambassador from France to King John. 
 
 Queen Elinor, mother to Ki:ig John. 
 Constance, mother to Arthur. 
 Blanch of Spain, niece to King John. 
 Lady Faulconbridge. 
 
 Lords, Citizens of Angiers, Sheriff, Heralds, Officers, 
 Soldiers, Messengers, and other Attendants. 
 
 Scene : Partly in England and partly i?i France. 
 
ROOM OF STATE IN THE PALACE. 
 
 ACT I. 
 Scene I. King John's Palace. 
 Enter King John, Queen Elinor, Pembroke, Essex, Salis- 
 bury, and others, with Chatillon. 
 King John. Now, say, Chatillon, what would France with 
 
 us ? 
 Chatillon. Thus, after greeting, speaks the King of France 
 
42 KING JOHN. 
 
 In my behaviour to the majesty, 
 
 The borrowed majesty, of England here. 
 
 Elinor. A strange beginning ! — borrowed majesty ! 
 
 King John. Silence, good mother; hear the embassy. 
 
 Chatillon. 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, 10 
 
 To Ireland, Poictiers, Anjou, Touraine, Maine, 
 Desiring thee to lay aside the sword 
 Which sways usurpingly these several titles, 
 And put the same into young Arthur's hand, 
 Thy nephew and right royal sovereign. 
 
 King John. What follows if we disallow of this ? 
 
 Chatillon. The proud control of fierce and bloody war, 
 To enforce these rights so forcibly withheld. 
 
 King John. Here have we war for war and blood for 
 blood, 
 Controlment for controlment: so answer France. 20 
 
 Chatillon. Then take my king's defiance from my mouth, 
 The farthest limit of my embassy. 
 
 King 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 ! 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. 30 
 
 \Exeunt Chatillon and Pembroke. 
 
 Elinor. What now, my son ! have I not ever said 
 How 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 
 
ACT I. SCENE I. 
 
 43 
 
 With very easy arguments of love, 
 
 Which now the manage of two kingdoms must 
 
 With fearful bloody issue arbitrate. 
 
 King John. Our strong possession and our right for us. 
 
 Elinor. Your strong possession much more than your 
 right, 40 
 
 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 a Sheriff. 
 
 Essex. My liege, here is the strangest controversy 
 Come from the country to be judg'd by you 
 That e'er I heard ; shall I produce the men ? 
 
 King John. Let them approach. — 
 Our abbeys and our priories shall pay 
 This expedition's charge. — 
 
 Enter Robert Faulconbr t dge, and Philip his bastard 
 brother. 
 
 What men are you ? 
 
 Bastard. Your faithful subject I, a gentleman 50 
 
 Born in Northamptonshire, and eldest son, 
 As I suppose, to Robert Faulconbridge, — 
 A soldier, by the honour-giving hand 
 Of Cceur-de-lion knighted in the field. 
 
 King John. What art thou ? 
 
 Robert. The son and heir to that same Faulconbridge. 
 
 King John. Is that the elder, and art thou the heir? 
 You came not of one mother then, it seems. 
 
 Bastard. Most certain of one mother, mighty king — 
 That is well known — and, as I think, one father; 60 
 
 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. 
 
44 KING JOHN. 
 
 Elinor. Out on thee, rude man ! thou dost shame thy 
 mother 
 And wound her honour with this diffidence. 
 
 Bastard. 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 pound a year. 
 Heaven guard my mother's honour — and my land ! 70 
 
 King John. A good blunt fellow. — Why, being younger 
 born, 
 Doth he lay claim to thine inheritance? 
 
 Bastard. I know not why, except to get the land. 
 But once he slander'd me with bastardy : 
 But whether 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 ! — 
 Compare our faces and be judge yourself. 
 If old Sir Robert did beget us both «o 
 
 And were our father, and this son like him, — 
 
 old Sir Robert, father, on my knee 
 
 1 give heaven thanks I was not like to thee ! 
 
 King John. Why, what a madcap hath heaven lent us here! 
 
 Elinor. He hath a trick of Cceur-de-lion's face; 
 The accent of his tongue afTecteth him. 
 Do you not read some tokens of my son 
 In the large composition of this man ? 
 
 King John. Mine eye hath well examined his parts, 
 And finds them perfect Richard. — Sirrah, speak, 90 
 
 What doth move you to claim your brother's land? , 
 
 Bastard. Because he hath a half-face, like my father, 
 With that half-face would he have all my land; 
 A half-fac'd groat five hundred pound a year ! 
 
 Robert. My gracious liege, when that my father liv'd, 
 Your brother did employ my father much, — 
 
ACT I. SCENE I. 
 
 Bastard. Well, sir, by this you cannot get my land; 
 Your tale must be how he employ'cl my mother. 
 
 Robert. And once dispatch'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 "mean time 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 
 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. 
 
 King 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, 
 Being none of his, refuse him. This concludes : 
 My mother's son did get your father's heir; 
 Your father's heir must have your father's land. 
 
 Robert. Shall then my father's will be of no force 
 To dispossess that child which is not his ? 
 
 45 
 
4 6 KING JOHN. 
 
 Bastard. Of no more force to dispossess me, sir, 
 Than was his will to get me, as I think. 
 
 Elinor. Whether hadst thou rather be a Faulconbridge, 
 And like thy brother, to enjoy thy land, 
 Or the reputed son of Cceur-de-lion, 
 Lord of thy presence and no land beside ? 
 
 Bastard. Madam, an if my brother had my shape, 
 And I had his, Sir Robert's his, like him; 
 And if my legs were two such riding-rods, i 4 o 
 
 My arms such eel-skins stufT'd, my face so thin 
 That in mine ear I durst not stick a rose 
 Lest men should say ' Look, where three-farthings goes !' 
 And, to his shape, were heir to all this land, 
 Would I might never stir from off this place, 
 I would give it every foot to have this face ; 
 I would not be Sir Nob in any case. 
 
 Elinor. 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. 150 
 
 Bastard. Brother, take you my land, I '11 take my chance. 
 Your face hath got five hundred pound a year, 
 Yet sell your face for five pence and 't is dear. — 
 Madam, I '11 follow you unto the death. 
 
 Elinor. Nay, I would have you go before me thither. 
 
 Bastard. Our country manners give our betters way. 
 
 King John. What is thy name ? 
 
 Bastard. Philip, my liege, so is my name begun; 
 Philip, good old Sir Robert's wife's eldest son. 
 
 King John. From henceforth bear his name whose form 
 thou bear'st ; 160 
 
 Kneel thou down Philip, but arise more great, 
 Arise Sir Richard and Plantagenet. 
 
 Bastard. Brother, by the mother's side, give me your 
 hand ; 
 My father gave me honour, yours gave land. — 
 
ACT I. SCENE L 47 
 
 Now blessed be the hour, by night or day, 
 When I was got, Sir Robert was away ! 
 
 Elinor. The very spirit of Plantagenet ! 
 I am thy grandam, Richard; call me so. 
 
 Bastard. Madam, by chance but not by truth ; what 
 though ? 
 Something about, a little from the right, i 7 o 
 
 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. 
 
 King John. Go, Faulconbridge : now hast thou thy de- 
 sire; 
 A landless knight makes thee a landed squire. — 
 Come, madam, and come, Richard, we must speed 
 For France, for France, for it is more than need. 
 
 Bastard. Brother, adieu; good fortune come to thee! i&> 
 For thou wast got i' the way of honesty. 
 
 \Exeunt all but Bastard. 
 A foot of honour better than I was, 
 But many a many foot of land the worse. 
 Well, now can I make any Joan a lady. 
 ' Good den, Sir Richard !' — ' God-a-mercy, fellow !' — 
 And if his name be George, I '11 call him Peter; 
 For new-made honour doth forget men's names: 
 'T is too respective and too sociable 
 For your conversion. Now your traveller, — 
 He and his toothpick at my worship's mess, 190 
 
 And when my knightly stomach is suffic'd, 
 Why then I suck my teeth and catechise 
 My picked man of countries : 'My dear sir,' — 
 Thus, leaning on mine elbow, I begin, — 
 ' I shall beseech you' — that is question now; 
 And then comes answer like an Absey book : 
 
4 3 KING JOHN. 
 
 ' O sir,' says answer, c at your best command ; 
 
 At your employment; at your service, sir:' — 
 
 ' No, sir,' says question, ' I, sweet sir, at yours :' — ■ 
 
 And so, ere answer knows what question would, 200 
 
 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 cloth not smack of observation : 
 
 And so am I, whether I smack or no; 
 
 And not alone in habit and device, 210 
 
 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 it 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 ! 220 
 
 What brings you here to court so hastily? 
 
 Lady Faulconbridge. Where is that slave, thy brother ? 
 where is he, 
 That holds in chase mine honour up and down ? 
 
 Bastard. 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 Faulconbridge. Sir Robert's son ! Ay, thou unrever- 
 end bov, 
 
ACT I. SCENE I. 49 
 
 Sir Robert's son; why scorn'st thou at Sir Robert? 
 
 He is Sir Robert's son, and so art thou. 229 
 
 Bastard. James Gurney, wilt thou give us leave awhile ? 
 
 Guniey. Good leave, good Philip. 
 
 Bastard. Philip! sparrow! James, 
 
 There 's toys abroad; anon I '11 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 handiwork : therefore, good mother, 
 To whom am I beholding for these limbs ? 
 Sir Robert never holp to make this leg. 240 
 
 Lady Faulconbridge. Hast thou conspired with thy brother 
 too, 
 That for thine own gain shouldst defend mine honour? 
 What means this scorn, thou most untoward knave? 
 
 Bastard. 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? 250 
 
 Lady Faulconbridge. Hast thou denied thyself a Faulcon- 
 bridge ? 
 
 Bastard. As faithfully as I deny the devil. 
 
 Lady Faulconbridge. King Richard Cceur-de-lion was thy 
 father ; 
 By long and vehement suit I was seduc'd. — 
 Heaven lay not my transgression to my charge ! 
 Thou art the issue of my dear offence, 
 Which was so strongly urg'd past my defence. 
 
 D 
 
^o 
 
 KING JOHN 
 
 Bastard. 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, 260 
 
 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 aweless 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 270 
 
 When I was got, I '11 send his soul to hell. 
 Come, lady, I will show 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 't was not. [Exeunt. 
 
ACT II. 
 Scene I. France. Before Angiers. 
 
 Enter Austria and forces, drums, etc., on one side: on the oth- 
 er King Philip of France and his power ; Lewis, Arthur, 
 Constance, and attendants. 
 
 King Philip. 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, 
 
5 2 KING JOHN. 
 
 To spread his colours, boy, in thy behalf, 
 
 And to rebuke the usurpation 
 
 Of thy unnatural uncle, English John : 10 
 
 Embrace him, love him, give him welcome hither. 
 
 Arthur. God shall forgive you Cceur-de-lion's 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. 
 
 King Philip. A noble boy ! Who would not do thee right? 
 
 Austria. Upon thy cheek lay I this zealous kiss, 
 As seal to this indenture of my love, 20 
 
 That to my home I will no more return, 
 Till Angiers and the right thou hast in France, 
 Together with that pale, that white-fac'd shore, 
 Whose foot spurns back the ocean's roaring tides 
 And coops from other lands her islanders, — 
 Even till that England, hedg'd in with the main, 
 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, 30 
 
 Will I not think of home, but follow arms. 
 
 Constance. 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 ! 
 
 Austria. The peace of heaven is theirs that lift their swords 
 In such a just and charitable war. 
 
 King Philip. 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. 4° 
 
 We '11 lay before this town our royal bones, 
 
ACT II. SCENE I. 53 
 
 Wade to the market-place in Frenchmen's blood, 
 But we will make it subject to this boy. 
 
 Constance. Stay for an answer to your embassy, 
 Lest unadvis'd 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. 
 
 King Philip. A wonder, lady ! lo, upon thy wish, so 
 
 Our messenger Chatillon is arriv'd ! — 
 What England says, say briefly, gentle lord ; 
 We coldly pause for thee ; Chatillon, speak. 
 
 Chatillon. 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 stay'd, have given him time 
 To land his legions all as soon as I. 
 
 His inarches are expedient to this town, 60 
 
 His forces strong, his soldiers confident. 
 With him along is come 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's deceas'd ; 
 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, 7° 
 
 To make a hazard of new fortunes here. 
 In brief, a braver choice of dauntless spirits 
 Than now the English bottoms have waft o'er 
 Did never float upon the swelling tide, 
 
54 KING JOHN. 
 
 To do offence and scath in Christendom. [Drum beats. 
 
 The interruption of their churlish drums 
 Cuts off more circumstance : they are at hand, 
 To parley or to fight; therefore prepare. 
 
 King Philip. How much unlook'd for is this expedition ! 
 
 Austria. By how much unexpected, by so much 80 
 
 We must awake endeavour for defence ; 
 For courage mounteth with occasion. 
 Let them be welcome then ; we are prepar'd. 
 
 Enter King John, Eltnor, Blanch, the Bastard, Lords, and 
 
 forces. 
 
 King 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 beats His peace to heaven. 
 
 King Philip. Peace be to England, if that war return 
 From France to England, there to live in peace. 90 
 
 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, 
 Out-faced 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 : 100 
 
 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 
 
ACT II. SCENE I. 55 
 
 How comes it then that thou art calPd a king, 
 When living blood doth in these temples beat, 
 Which owe the crown that thou o'ermasterest? 
 
 King John. From whom hast thou this great commission, 
 France, no 
 
 To draw my answer from thy articles ? 
 
 King Philip. 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. 
 
 King John. Alack ! thou dost usurp authority. 
 
 King Philip. Excuse, it is to beat usurping down. 
 
 Elinor. Who is it thou dost call usurper, France ? 120 
 
 Constance. Let me make answer, — thy usurping son. 
 
 Elinor. Out, insolent ! thy bastard shall be kinj 
 That thou mayst be a queen, and check the world 
 
 Constance. 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 like 
 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 ; 130 
 
 It cannot be, an if thou wert his mother. 
 
 Elinor. There 's a good mother, boy, that blots thy 
 father. 
 
 Constance. There 's a good grandam, boy, that would blot 
 thee. 
 
 Austria. Peace. 
 
 Bastard. Hear the crier. 
 
 Austria. What the devil art thou ? 
 
 Bastard. One that will play the devil, sir, with you, 
 
 ■faj 
 
 1 
 
56 KING JOHN. 
 
 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 '11 smoke your skin-coat, an I catch you right : 
 
 Sirrah, look to 't; i' faith, I will, i' faith. i 4 o 
 
 Blanch. O, well did he become that lion's robe 
 That did disrobe the lion of that robe ! 
 
 Bastard. It lies as sightly on the back of him 
 As great Alcides' shows upon an ass; 
 But, ass, I '11 take that burthen from your back, 
 Or lay on that shall make your shoulders crack. 
 
 Austria. What cracker is this same that deafs our ears 
 With this abundance of superfluous breath ? 
 King Philip, determine what we shall do straight. 
 
 King Philip. Women and fools, break off your conference. 
 King John, this is the very sum of all: 151 
 
 England and Ireland, Anjou, Touraine, Maine, 
 In right of Arthur do I claim of thee. 
 Wilt thou resign them and lay down thy arms? 
 
 King 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 '11 give thee more 
 Than e'er the coward hand of France can win : 
 Submit thee, boy. 
 
 Elinor. Come to thy grandam, child. 
 
 Constance. Do, child, go to it grandam, child; 160 
 
 Give grandam kingdom, and it grandam will 
 Give it a plum, a cherry, and a fig; 
 There 's a good grandam. 
 
 Arthur. Good my mother, peace ! 
 
 I would that I were low laid in my grave; 
 I am not worth this coil that 's made for me. 
 
 Elinor. His mother shames him so, poor boy, he weeps. 
 
 Constance. Now shame upon you, whether she does or no ! 
 His grandam 's wrongs, and not his mother's shames, 
 
ACT II. SCENE I 57 
 
 Draws those heaven-moving pearls from his poor eyes, 
 Which heaven shall take in nature of a fee; 170 
 
 Ay, with these crystal beads heaven shall be brib'd 
 To do him justice and revenge on you. 
 
 Elinor. Thou monstrous slanderer of heaven and earth ! 
 Constance. Thou monstrous injurer of heaven and earth ! 
 Call not me slanderer ; thou and thine usurp 
 The dominations, royalties, and rights 
 Of this oppressed boy. This is thy eld'st son's son, 
 In fortunate in nothing but in thee : 
 Thy sins are visited in this poor child ; 
 
 The canon of the law is laid on him, 180 
 
 Being but the second generation 
 Removed from thy sin-conceiving womb. 
 King John. Bedlam, have done. 
 
 Constance. I have but this to say,— 
 
 That he is not only plagued for her sin, 
 But God hath made her sin and her the plague 
 On this removed issue, plagu'd for her 
 And with her plague ; her sin his injury, 
 Her injury the beadle to her sin, 
 All punish'd in the person of this child, 
 And all for her; a plague upon her ! 190 
 
 Elinor. Thou unadvised scold, I can produce 
 A will that bars the title of thy son. 
 
 Constance. Ay, who doubts that? a will ! a wicked will; 
 A woman's will; a canker'd grandam's will ! 
 
 King Philip. Peace, lady ! pause, or be more temperate. 
 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. 200 
 
5 8 KING JOHN. 
 
 Trumpet sounds. Enter certain Citizens upon the walls. 
 
 Citizen. Who is it that hath warn'd us to the walls ? 
 
 King Philip. 'T is France, for England. 
 
 King John. England, for itself. 
 
 You men of Angiers, and my loving subjects, — 
 
 King Philip. You loving men of Angiers, Arthur's sub- 
 jects, 
 Our trumpet call'd you to this gentle parle — 
 
 King 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, 210 
 
 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 
 Confronts your city's eyes, your winking gates ; 
 And but for our approach those sleeping stones, 
 That as a waist doth girdle you about, 
 By the compulsion of their ordinance 
 By this time from their fixed beds of lime 
 Had been dishabited, and wide havoc made 220 
 
 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 amaz'd 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 : 23c 
 
 Which trust accordingly, kind citizens, 
 
ACT II. SCENE I. 59 
 
 And let us in, your king, whose labonr'd spirits, 
 Forwearied in this action of swift speed, 
 Crave harbourage within your city walls. 
 
 King Philip. 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. 240 
 
 For this down-trodden equity, we tread 
 In warlike march these greens before your town, 
 Being no further enemy to you 
 Than the constraint of hospitable zeal 
 In the relief of this oppressed child 
 Religiously provokes. Be pleased then 
 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 in aspect, hath all offence seal'd up. 250 
 
 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 unbruis'd, 
 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 profTer'd offer, 
 'T is not the rounclure of your old-fac'd walls 
 Can hide you from our messengers of war, 260 
 
 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 challeng'd it? 
 Or shall we give the signal to our rage, 
 And stalk in blood to our possession ? 
 
60 KING JOHN. 
 
 Citizen. In brief, we are the king of England's subjects; 
 For him, and in his right, we hold this town. 
 
 King John. Acknowledge then the king, and let me in. 
 
 Citizen. That can we not; but he that proves the king, 
 To him will we prove loyal: till that time 271 
 
 Have we ramm'd up our gates against the world. 
 
 King 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, — ■ 
 
 JBastard. Bastards, and else. 
 
 King John. To verify our title with their lives. 
 
 King Philip. As many and as well-born bloods as those — 
 
 Bastard. Some bastards too. 
 
 King Philip. Stand in his face to contradict his claim. 2S0 
 
 Citizen. Till you compound whose right is worthiest, 
 We for the worthiest hold the right from both. 
 
 King 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! 
 
 King Philip. Amen, amen ! — Mount, chevaliers ! to arms ! 
 
 Bastard. Saint George, that swing'd the dragon, and e'er 
 since 
 Sits on his horse back at mine hostess' door, 
 Teach us some fence ! — [To Austria'] Sirrah, were I at home, 
 At your den, sirrah, with your lioness, 291 
 
 I would set an ox-head to your lion's hide, 
 And make a monster of you. 
 
 Austria. Peace ! no more. 
 
 Bastard. O, tremble, for you hear the lion roar ! 
 
 King John. Up higher to the plain ; where we '11 set forth 
 In best appointment all our regiments. 
 
 Bastard. Speed then, to take advantage of the field. 
 
 King Philip. It shall be so; — and at the other hill 
 Command the rest to stand. — God and our right ! [Exeunt. 
 
ACT II. SCENE I. (3j 
 
 Alarums and excursions ; then enter a French Herald, with 
 trumpets, to the gates. 
 
 French Herald. You men of Angiers, open wide your gates. 
 And let young Arthur, Duke of Bretagne, in, 30 i 
 
 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 discolour'd earth ; 
 And victory, with little loss, cloth play 
 Upon the dancing banners of the French, 
 Who are at hand, triumphantly display'd, 
 To enter conquerors and to proclaim 3 io 
 
 Arthur of Bretagne England's king and yours. 
 
 Enter English Herald, with trumpets. 
 
 English Herald. Rejoice, you men of Angiers, ring your 
 bells; 
 King John, your king and England's, doth approach, 
 Commander of this hot malicious day. 
 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; 320 
 
 And, like a jolly troop of huntsmen, come 
 Our lusty English, all with purpled hands, 
 Dyed in the dying slaughter of their foes. 
 Open your gates and give the victors way. 
 
 Citizen. Heralds, from off our towers we might behold, 
 From first to last, the onset and retire 
 Of both your armies; whose equality 
 By our best eyes cannot be censured. 
 
62 KING JOHN. 
 
 Blood hath bought blood, and blows have answer'd blows; 
 Strength match'd with strength, and power confronted power: 
 Both are alike ; and both alike we like. 33 i 
 
 One must prove greatest; while they weigh so even, 
 We hold our town for neither, yet for both. 
 
 Re-enter the two Kings, with their powers, severally. 
 
 King 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'erswell 
 With course disturb'd even thy confining shores, 
 Unless thou let his silver water keep 
 A peaceful progress to the ocean. 34 o 
 
 King Philip. England, thou hast not sav'd 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 '11 put thee clown, '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. 
 
 Bastard. Ha, majesty ! how high thy glory towers, 350 
 
 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, mousing the flesh of men, 
 In undetermin'd differences of kings. — 
 Why stand these royal fronts amazed thus ? 
 Cry havoc, kings ! back to the stained field, 
 You equal potents, fiery kindled spirits ! 
 Then let confusion of one part confirm 
 The other's peace ; till then, blows, blood, and death ! 3 6 
 
ACT II. SCENE I. 63 
 
 King John. Whose party do the townsmen yet admit ? 
 
 King Philip. Speak, citizens, for England • who 's your 
 king ? 
 
 Citizen. The king of England, when we know the king. 
 
 King Philip. Know him in us, that here hold up his right. 
 
 King John. In us, that are our own great deputy, 
 And bear possession of our person here, 
 Lord of our presence, Angiers, and of you. 
 
 Citizen. 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; 370 
 
 King'd of our fears, until our fears, resolv'd, 
 Be by some certain king purg'd and depos'd. 
 
 Bastard. 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 rul'd by me : 
 Do like the murines of Jerusalem ; 
 Be friends awhile, and both conjointly bend 
 Your sharpest deeds of malice on this town. 3S0 
 
 By east and west let France and England mount 
 Their battering cannon charged to the 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 clone, dissever your united strengths, 
 And part your mingled colours once again, 
 Turn face to face and bloody point to point ; 390 
 
 Then, in a moment, Fortune shall cull forth 
 Out of one side her happy minion, 
 To whom in favour she shall give the clay, 
 
64 KING JOHN. 
 
 And kiss him with a glorious victory. 
 
 How like you this wild counsel, mighty states ? 
 
 Smacks it not something of the policy? 
 
 King John. Now, by the sky that hangs above our heads, 
 I like it well. — France, shall we knit our powers 
 And lay this Angiers even with the ground, 
 Then after fight who shall be king of it? 4 r ° 
 
 Bastard. An if thou hast the mettle of a king, 
 Being wrong'd 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. 
 
 King Philip. Let it be so. — Say, where will you assault ? 
 
 King John. We from the west will send destruction 
 Into this city's bosom. 410 
 
 Austria. I from the north. 
 
 King Philip. Our thunder from the south 
 
 Shall rain their drift of bullets on this town. 
 
 Bastard. O prudent discipline ! From north to south, 
 Austria and France shoot in each other's mouth : 
 I '11 stir them to it. — Come, away, away ! 
 
 Citizen. Hear us, great kings ; vouchsafe awhile to stay, 
 And I shall show you peace and fair-fac'd league, 
 Win you this city without stroke or wound, 
 Rescue those breathing lives to die in beds, 
 That here come sacrifices for the field. 420 
 
 Persever not, but hear me, mighty kings. 
 
 King John. Speak on with favour; we are bent to hear. 
 
 Citizen. 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? ' 
 
ACT II SCENE I. 
 
 65 
 
 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, 430 
 
 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 of, 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. 440 
 
 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, 45 o 
 
 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 half so peremptory, 
 
 As we to keep this city. 
 
 Bastard. 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 ! 460 
 
 What cannoneer begot this lusty blood ? 
 
6 5 KING JOHN. 
 
 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 ! I was never so bethump'd with words 
 Since I first call'd my brother's father dad. 
 
 Elinor. 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 47 o 
 
 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, 
 Lest zeal, now melted, by the windy breath 
 Of soft petitions, pity, and remorse, 
 Cool and congeal again to what it was. 
 
 Citizen. Why answer not the double majesties 4S0 
 
 This friendly treaty of our threaten'd town? 
 
 King Philip. Speak England first, that hath been forward 
 first 
 To speak unto this city; what say you ? 
 
 King 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 besieg'd, 
 
 Find liable to our crown and dignity, 490 
 
 Shall gild her bridal bed and make her rich 
 In titles, honours, and promotions, 
 As she in beauty, education, blood, 
 Holds hand with any princess of the world. 
 
 King Philip. What say'st thou, boy ? look in the lady's face. 
 
ACT II. SCENE I. 67 
 
 Lewis. I do, my lord; and in her eye I find 
 A wonder, or a wondrous miracle, 
 The shadow of myself form'd in her eye ; 
 Which, being but the shadow of your son, 
 Becomes a sun and makes your son a shadow. 500 
 
 I do protest I never lov'd myself 
 Till now infixed I beheld myself 
 Drawn in the flattering table of her eye. 
 
 \_ Whispers with Blanch. 
 
 Bastard. Drawn in the flattering table of her eye ! 
 
 Hang'd in the frowning wrinkle of her brow ! 
 And quarter'd in her heart I 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 mine : 5 «o 
 
 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. 
 Further 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. 520 
 
 King 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 still vouchsafe to say. 
 
 King John. Speak then, prince Dauphin; can you love 
 this lady? 
 
 Lewis. Nay, ask me if I can refrain from love ; 
 For I do love her most unfeignedly. 
 
 King John. Then do I give Volquessen, Touraine, Maine, 
 
68 KING JOHN. 
 
 Poictiers, and Anjou, these five provinces, 
 
 With her to thee; and this addition more, 
 
 Full thirty thousand marks of English coin. — 530 
 
 Philip of France, if thou be pleas'd withal, 
 
 Command thy son and daughter to join hands. 
 
 King Philip. It likes us well. — Young princes, close your 
 hands. 
 
 Austria. And your lips too; for I am well assur'd 
 That I did so when I was first assur'd. 
 
 King Philip. Now, citizens of Angiers, ope your gates, 
 Let in that amity which you have made; 
 For at St. Mary's chapel presently 
 The rites of marriage shall be solemniz'd. — 
 Is not the Lady Constance in this troop ? 540 
 
 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. 
 
 Lewis. She is sad and passionate at your highness' 
 tent. 
 
 King Philip. 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. 
 
 King John. We will heal up all; S5 o 
 
 For we '11 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. 
 
ACT II. SCENE I. 
 
 69 
 
 Go we, as well as haste will suffer us, 
 
 To this unlook'd for, unprepared pomp. 560 
 
 \Exeunt all but the Bastard. 
 Bastard. Mad world ! mad kings ! mad composition ! 
 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, 570 
 
 Who, having no external thing to lose 
 But the word maid, cheats the poor maid of that, 
 That smooth-fae'd gentleman, tickling Commodity, — 
 Commodity, the bias of the world, 
 The world, who of itself is peized 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; — 5S0 
 
 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 determin'd aid, 
 From a resolv'd 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 the power to clutch my hand, 
 When his fair angels would salute my palm; S9 o 
 
 But for my hand, as unattempted yet, 
 Like a poor beggar, raileth on the rich. 
 
yo 
 
 KING JOHN. 
 
 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 lord, for I will worship thee ! 
 
 [Exit. 
 
 QUEEN ELINOR. 
 

 
 
 THE BATTLE NEAR ANGIERS. 
 
 ACT III. 
 
 Scene I. The French Kings Pavilion. 
 Enter Constance, Arthur, and Salisbury. 
 
 Constance. Gone to be married ! gone to swear a peace ! 
 False blood to false blood join'd ! gone to be friends ! 
 Shall Lewis have Blanch, and Blanch those provinces? 
 It is not so; thou hast misspoke, misheard; 
 Be well advis'd, tell o'er thy tale again : 
 It cannot be ; thou dost but say 't is 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, 
 
7 2 .KING JOHN. 
 
 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 corifirmers of thy words? 
 
 Then speak again; not all thy former tale, 
 
 But this one word, whether thy tale be true. 
 
 Salisbury. As true as I believe you think them false 
 That give you cause to prove my saying true. 
 
 Constance. 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, be gone : I cannot brook thy sight; 
 This news hath made thee a most ugly man. 
 
 Salisbury. What other harm have I, good lady, clone, 
 But spoke the harm that is by others done ? 
 
 Constance. Which harm within itself so heinous is 
 As it makes harmful all that speak of it. 
 
 Arthur. I do beseech you, madam, be content. 
 
 Constance. If thou, that bid'st me be content, wert grim, 
 Ugly, and slanderous to thy mother's womb, 
 Full of unpleasing blots and sightless stains, 
 Lame, foolish, crooked, swart, prodigious, 
 
ACT III. SCENE I 73 
 
 Patch'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. 5 o 
 
 But thou art fair, and at thy birth, dear boy, 
 
 Nature and Fortune join'd to make thee great; 
 
 Of Nature's gifts thou mayst with lilies boast 
 
 And with the half-blown rose. But Fortune, O, 
 
 She is corrupted, chang'd, and won from thee; 
 
 She adulterates hourly with thine uncle John, 
 
 And with her golden hand hath pluck'd on France 
 
 To tread down fair respect of sovereignty, 
 
 And made his majesty the bawd to theirs. 
 
 France is a bawd to Fortune and King John, 60 
 
 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 underbear. 
 
 Salisbury. Pardon me, madam, 
 
 I may not go without you to the kings. 
 
 Constance. Thou mayst, thou shalt; I will not go with thee. 
 I will instruct my sorrows to be proud; 
 For grief is proud and makes his owner stoop. 
 To me and to the state of my great grief 70 
 
 Let kings assemble; for my grief's so great 
 That no supporter but the huge firm earth 
 Can hold it up. Here I and sorrows sit; 
 Here is my throne, bid kings come bow to it. 
 
 [Seats herself on the ground. 
 
 Enter King John, King Philip, Lewis, Blanch, Elinor, 
 the Bastard, Austria, and Attendants. 
 
 King Philip. 'T is true, fair daughter; and this blessed 
 day 
 
74 KING JOHN. 
 
 Ever in France shall be kept festival. 
 To solemnize this day the glorious sun 
 Stays in his course and plays the alchemist, 
 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 holiday. 
 
 Constance. A wicked day, and not a holy day ! \Risi 
 What hath this day deserved ? what hath it clone, 
 That it in golden letters should be set 
 Among the high tides in the calendar? 
 Nay, rather turn this day out of the week, 
 This day of shame, oppression, perjury; 
 Or, if it must stand still, let wives with child 
 •vPray that their burthens may not fall this day, 
 Lest that their hopes prodigiously be cross'd. 
 But on this day let seamen fear no wrack ; 
 No bargains break that are not this clay made : 
 This day, all things begun come to ill end, 
 Yea, faith itself to hollow falsehood change ! 
 
 King Philip. By heaven, lady, you shall have no cause 
 To curse the fair proceedings of this clay. 
 Have I not pawn'd to you my majesty ? 
 
 Constance. You have beguil'd 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 wai- 
 ls cold in amity and painted peace, 
 And our oppression hath made up this league. — 
 Arm, arm, you heavens, against these perjur'd kings ! 
 A widow cries ; be husband to me, heavens ! 
 Let not the hours of this ungodly clay 
 Wear out the day in peace; but, ere sunset, 
 
ACT III. SCENE I. 75 
 
 Set armed discord 'twixt these perjur'd kings i 
 Hear me, 0, hear me ! 
 
 Austria. Lady Constance, peace ! 
 
 Constance. War ! war ! no peace ! peace is to me a war.— 
 
 Lymoges! O Austria! thou dost shame 
 
 That bloody spoil; thou slave, thou wretch, thou coward ! 
 
 Thou little valiant, great in villany ! 
 
 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 perjur'd too, 120 
 
 And sooth'st up greatness. What a fool art thou, 
 
 A ramping fool, to brag ^nd 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 dost thou now fall over to my foes ? 
 
 Thou wear a lion's hide ! doff it for shame, 
 
 And hang a calfs-skin on those recreant limbs. 129 
 
 Austria. O, that a man should speak those words to me ! 
 
 Bastard. And hang a calfs-skin on those recreant limbs. 
 
 Austria. Thou dar'st not say so, villain, for thy life. 
 
 Bastard. And hang a calfs-skin on those recreant limbs. 
 
 King John. We like not this ; thou dost forget thyself. 
 
 Enter Pandulph. 
 King Philip. Here comes the holy legate of the pope. 
 Pandulph. Hail, you anointed deputies of heaven ! 
 To thee, King John, my holy errand is. 
 
 1 Pandulph, of fair Milan cardinal, 
 
 And from Pope Innocent the legate here, 
 
 Do in his name religiously demand 140 
 
 Why thou against the church, our holy mother, 
 
 So wilfully dost spurn, and force perforce 
 
7 6 KING JOHN. 
 
 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 ? 
 
 King 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, 150 
 
 To charge me to an answer, as the pope. 
 Tell him this tale; and from the mouth of England 
 Acid thus much more, — that no Italian 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. 160 
 
 King Philip. Brother of England, you blaspheme in this. 
 
 King John. Though you and all the kings of Christen- 
 dom 
 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 170 
 
 Against the pope, and count his friends my foes. 
 
 Pandulph. Then, by the lawful power that I have, 
 Thou shalt stand curs'd and excommunicate : 
 And blessed shall he be that doth revolt 
 From his allegiance to an heretic ; 
 And meritorious shall that hand be call'd. 
 
ACT III. SCENE I 
 
 77 
 
 Canonized and worshipp'd as a saint, 
 That takes away by any secret course 
 Thy hateful life. 
 
 Constance. O, lawful let it be 
 
 That I have room with Rome to curse awhile ! iSo 
 
 Good father cardinal, cry thou amen 
 To my keen curses; for without my wrong 
 There is no tongue hath power to curse him right. 
 
 Pandulph. There 's law and warrant, lady, for my curse. 
 
 Constance. 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 ? 190 
 
 Pandulph. 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, 
 Unless he do submit himself to Rome. 
 
 Elinor. Look'st thou, pale, France? do not let go thy 
 hand. 
 
 Constance. Look to that, devil; lest that France repent, 
 And by disjoining hands hell lose a soul. 
 
 Austria. King Philip, listen to the cardinal. 
 
 Bastard. And hang a calf's-skin on his recreant limbs. 
 
 Austria. Well, ruffian, I must pocket up these wrongs, 200 
 Because — 
 
 Bastard. Your breeches best may carry them. 
 
 King John. Philip, what say'st thou to the cardinal ? 
 
 Constance. What should he say, but as the cardinal? 
 
 Lewis. Bethink you, father; for the difference 
 Is purchase of a heavy curse from Rome, 
 Or the light loss of England for a friend : 
 Forego the easier. 
 
 Blanch. That 's the curse of Rome. 
 
7 8 KING JOHN. 
 
 Constance. O Lewis, stand fast ! the devil tempts thee 
 here 
 In likeness of a new untrimmed bride. 209 
 
 Blanch. The Lady Constance speaks not from her faith, 
 But from her need. 
 
 Constance. O, if thou grant my need, 
 
 Which only lives but by the death of faith, 
 That need must needs infer this principle, 
 That faith would live again by death of need. 
 O then, tread down my need, and faith mounts up; 
 Keep my need up, and faith is trodden down ! 
 
 King John. The king is mov'd, and answers not to this. 
 
 Constance. O, be remov'd from him, and answer well ! 
 
 Austria. Do so, King Philip ; hang no more in doubt. 219 
 
 Bastard. Hang nothing but a calf's-skin, most sweet lout. 
 
 King Philip. I am perplex'd, and know not what to say. 
 
 Pandulph. What canst thou say but will perplex thee 
 more, 
 If thou stand excommunicate and curs'd ? 
 
 King Philip. Good reverend father, make my person yours, 
 And tell me how you would bestow yourself. 
 This 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 230 
 
 Was deep-sworn faith, peace, amity, true 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 overstain'd 
 With slaughter's pencil, where revenge did paint 
 The fearful difference of incensed kings : 
 And shall these hands, so lately purg'd of blood, 
 
ACT III. SCENE I 
 
 79 
 
 So newly join'd in love, so strong in both, 240 
 
 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 =50 
 
 Some gentle order; and then we shall be blest 
 
 To do your pleasure and continue friends. 
 
 Pcmdulph. All form is formless, order orderless, 
 Save what is opposite to England's love. 
 Therefore to arms! be champion of our church, 
 Or let the church, our mother, breathe her curse, 
 A mother's curse, on her revolting son. 
 France, thou mayst hold a serpent by the tongue, 
 A chafed lion by the mortal paw, 
 
 A fasting tiger safer by the tooth, 260 
 
 Than keep in peace that hand which thou dost hold. 
 
 King Philip. I may disjoin my hand, but not my faith. 
 
 Pandulph. So mak'st thou faith an enemy to faith, 
 And like a civil war set'st oath to oath, 
 Thy tongue against thy tongue. O, let thy vow 
 First made to heaven, first be to heaven perform'd, 
 That is, to be the champion of our church ! 
 What since thou swor'st is sworn against thyself, 
 And may not be performed by thyself; 
 
 For that which thou hast sworn to do amiss 270 
 
 Is not amiss when it is truly done, 
 And being not done, where doing tends to ill, 
 The truth is then most clone not doing it. 
 The better act of purposes mistook 
 
So KING JOHN. 
 
 Is to mistake again; though indirect, 
 
 Yet indirection thereby grows direct, 
 
 And falsehood falsehood cures, as fire cools fire 
 
 Within the scorched veins of one new-burn'd. 
 
 It is religion that doth make vows kept; 
 
 But thou hast sworn against religion, 
 
 By which thou swear'st against the thing thou swear'st, 
 
 And mak'st an oath the surety for thy truth 
 
 Against an oath : the truth thou art unsure 
 
 To swear swears only not to be forsworn; 
 
 Else what a mockery should it be to swear ! 
 
 But thou dost swear only to be forsworn ; 
 
 And most forsworn, to keep what thou dost swear. 
 
 Therefore thy later vows against thy first 
 
 Is in thyself rebellion to thyself; 
 
 And better conquest never canst thou make 
 
 Than arm thy constant and thy nobler parts 
 
 Against these giddy loose suggestions : 
 
 Upon which better part our prayers come in, 
 
 If thou vouchsafe them. But if not, then know 
 
 The peril of our curses light on thee 
 
 So heavy as thou shalt not shake them ofT, 
 
 But in despair die under their black weight. 
 
 Austria. Rebellion ! flat rebellion ! 
 
 Bastard. Will 't not be ? 
 
 Will not a calf's-skin stop that mouth of thine? 
 
 Lewis. 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 ! — ay, alack, how new 
 Is husband in my mouth ! — even for that name, 
 Which till this time my tongue did ne'er pronounce, 
 
ACT III. SCENE I. 8 1 
 
 Upon my knee I beg, go not to arms 
 Against mine uncle. 
 
 Constance. O, upon my knee, 
 
 Made hard with kneeling, I do pray to thee, 310 
 
 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? 
 
 Constance. That which upholdeth him that thee upholds, 
 His honour.— O, thine honour, Lewis, thine honour! 
 
 Lewis. I muse your majesty cloth seem so cold, 
 When such profound respects do pull you on. 
 
 Pandulph. I will denounce a curse upon his head. 
 
 King Philip. Thou shalt not need. — England, I will fall 
 from thee. 320 
 
 Constance. O fair return of banish'd majesty ! 
 
 Elinor. O foul revolt of French inconstancy ! 
 
 King John. France, thou shalt rue this hour within this 
 hour. 
 
 Bastard. 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. 330 
 
 Husband, I cannot pray that thou mayst win ; 
 Uncle, I needs must pray that thou mayst lose ; 
 Father, I may not wish the fortune thine ; 
 Grandam, I will not wish thy wishes thrive ; 
 Whoever wins, on that side shall I lose ; 
 Assured loss before the match be play'd. 
 
 Lewis. Lady, with me, with me thy fortune lies. 
 
 Blanch. There where my fortune lives, there my life dies. 
 
 F 
 
82 KING JOHN. 
 
 King John. Cousin, go draw our puissance together. — 
 
 [Exit Bastard. 
 France, I am burn'cl up with inflaming wrath ; 34 o 
 
 A rage whose heat hath this condition, 
 That nothing can allay, nothing but blood, 
 The blood, and dearest-valued blood, of France. 
 
 King Philip. 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. 
 
 King John. No more than he that threats. — To arms let 's 
 hie ! {Exeunt. 
 
 Scene II. The Same. Plains near Angiers. 
 Alarums, excursions. Enter the Bastard, with Austria's 
 
 head. 
 
 Bastard. Now, by my life, this clay grows wondrous hot ; 
 Some airy devil hovers in the sky 
 And pours clown mischief. Austria's head lie there, 
 While Philip breathes. 
 
 Enter King John, Arthur, and Hubert. 
 
 King John. Hubert, keep this boy. — Philip, make up ; 
 My mother is assailed in our tent, 
 And ta'en, I fear. 
 
 Bastard. My lord, I rescued her ; 
 
 Her highness is in safety, fear you not : 
 
 But on, my liege ; for very little pains 9 
 
 Will bring this labour to an happy end. [Exeunt. 
 
ACT III. SCENE III 83 
 
 Scene III. The Same. 
 
 Alarums, excursions, retreat. Enter King John, Elinor, 
 
 Arthur, the Bastard, Hubert, and Lords. 
 
 King John. [To Elinor] So shall it be; your grace shall 
 stay behind 
 So strongly guarded. — [To Arthur] Cousin, look not sad : 
 Thy grandam loves thee ; and thy uncle will 
 As dear be to thee as thy father was. 
 
 Arthur. O, this will make my mother die with grief! 
 
 King John. [To the Bastard] Cousin, away for England ! 
 haste before; 
 And, ere our coming, see thou shake the bags 
 Of hoarding abbots. Set at liberty 
 Imprison'd angels; the fat ribs of peace 
 Must by the hungry now be fed upon. 10 
 
 Use our commission in his utmost force. 
 
 Bastard. 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. 
 
 Elinor. Farewell, gentle cousin. 
 
 King John. Coz, farewell. [Exit Bastard. 
 
 Elinor. Come hither, little kinsman ; hark, a word. 
 
 King John. Come hither, Hubert. O my gentle FI Li- 
 bert, 
 We owe thee much ! within this wall of flesh 20 
 
 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. 
 
8 4 KING JOHN. 
 
 By heaven, Hubert, I am almost asham'd 
 To say what good respect I have of thee. 
 
 Hubert. I am much bounden to your majesty. 
 
 King John. Good friend, thou hast no cause to say so yet. 
 But thou shalt have; and creep time ne'er so slow, 31 
 
 Yet it shall come for me to do thee good. 
 I had a thing to say, — but let it go. 
 The sun is in the heaven, and the proud day, 
 Attended with the pleasures of the world, 
 Is all too wanton and too full of gawds 
 To give me audience. If the midnight bell 
 Did, with his iron tongue and brazen mouth, 
 Sound on into the drowsy race of night; 
 If this same were a churchyard where we stand, 40 
 
 And thou possessed with a thousand wrongs, 
 Or if that surly spirit, melancholy, 
 Had bak'd thy blood and made it heavy-thick, 
 Which else runs tickling up and clown 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, 5" 
 
 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 I love thee well ; 
 And, by my troth, I think thou lov'st me well. 
 
 Hubert. So well, that what you bid me undertake, 
 Though that my death were adjunct to my act, 
 By heaven, I would do it! 
 
 King John. Do not I know thou wouldst ? 
 
 Good Hubert, Hubert, — Hubert, throw thine eye 
 On yon young boy: I '11 tell thee what, my friend, 60 
 
ACT III. SCENE IV. 35 
 
 He is a very serpent in my way; 
 And wheresoe'er this foot of mine doth tread, 
 He lies before me. Dost thou understand me ? 
 Thou art his keeper. 
 
 Hubert. And I '11 keep him so, 
 
 That he shall not offend your majesty. 
 
 King John.. Death. 
 
 Hubert. My lord ? 
 
 King John. A grave. 
 
 Hubert. He shall not live. 
 
 King John. Enough. 
 
 I could be merry now. Hubert, I love thee; 
 Well, I '11 not say what I intend for thee : 
 Remember. — Madam, fare you well; 
 I '11 send those powers o'er to your majesty. . 7 o 
 
 Elinor. My blessing go with thee ! 
 
 King John. For England, cousin, go ; 
 
 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. 
 
 King Philip. So, by a roaring tempest on the flood, 
 A whole armado of convicted sail 
 Is scatter'd and disjoin'd from fellowship. 
 
 Pandulph. Courage and comfort ! all shall yet go well. 
 
 King Philip. 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 ? 
 
 Lewis. What he hath won, that hath he fortified; 10 
 
 So hot a speed with such advice dispos'd, 
 Such temperate order in so fierce a cause, 
 
S6 KING JOHN. 
 
 Doth want example : who hath read or heard 
 Of any kindred action like to this ? 
 
 King Philip. Well could I bear that England had this 
 praise, 
 So we could find some pattern of our shame. — 
 
 Enter Constance. 
 Look, who comes here ! a grave unto a soul ; 
 Holding the eternal spirit, against her will, 
 In the vile prison of afflicted breath. — 
 I prithee, lady, go away with me. 20 
 
 Constance. Lo, now ! now see the issue of your peace. 
 
 King Philip. Patience, good lady ! comfort, gentle Con- 
 stance ! 
 
 Constance. 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 eyeballs in thy vaulty brows, 30 
 
 And ring these fingers with thy household worms, 
 And stop this gap of breath with fulsome dust, 
 And be a carrion monster like thyself! 
 Come, grin on me, and I will think thou smil'st, 
 And buss thee as thy wife ! Misery's love, 
 O, come to me ! 
 
 King Philip. O fair affliction, peace ! 
 
 Constance. No, no, I will not, having breath to cry. — ■ 
 O, that my tongue were in the thunder's mouth ! 
 Then with a passion would I shake the world, 
 And rouse from sleep that fell anatomy 40 
 
 Which cannot hear a lady's feeble voice, 
 Which scorns a modern invocation. 
 
ACT III. SCENE IV. 87 
 
 Pandulph. Lady, you utter madness, and not sorrow. 
 
 Constance. Thou art not holy to belie me so. 
 I am not mad : this hair I tear is mine; 
 My name is Constance; I was Geffrey's wife; 
 Young Arthur is my son, and he is lost ! 
 I am not mad; I would to heaven I were ! 
 For then, 't is like I should forget myself; 
 O, if I could, what grief should I forget ! — 50 
 
 Preach some philosophy to make me mad, 
 And thou shalt be canoniz'd, cardinal; 
 For being not mad but sensible of grief, 
 My reasonable part produces reason 
 How I may be deliver'd of these woes, 
 And teaches me to kill or hang myself. 
 If I were mad, I should forget my son, 
 Or madly think a babe of clouts were he. 
 I am not mad; too well, too well I feel 
 The different plague of each calamity. 60 
 
 King Philip. Bind up those tresses. — O, what love I note 
 In the fair multitude of those her hairs ! 
 Where but by chance a silver drop hath fallen, 
 Even to that drop ten thousand wiry friends 
 Do glue themselves in sociable grief, 
 Like true, inseparable, faithful loves, 
 Sticking together in calamity. 
 
 Constance. To England, if you will. 
 
 King Philip. Bind up your hairs. 
 
 Constance. Yes, that I will; and wherefore will I do it? 
 I tore them from their bonds, and cried aloud, 7* 
 
 ' O that these hands could so redeem my son, 
 As they have given these hairs their liberty !' 
 But now I envy at their liberty, 
 And will again commit them to their bonds, 
 Because my poor child is a prisoner. — 
 And, father cardinal, I have heard you say 
 
88 KING JOHN. 
 
 That we shall see and know our friends in heaven : 
 
 If that be true, I shall see my boy again ; 
 
 For since the birth of Cain, the first male child, 
 
 To him that did but yesterday suspire, 80 
 
 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, 
 
 As dim and meagre as an ague's fit, 
 
 And so he '11 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. 
 
 Pandulph. You hold too heinous a respect of grief. 90 
 
 Constance. He talks to me that never had a son. 
 
 King Philip. You are as fond of grief as of your child. 
 
 Constance. 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 you do. — 100 
 
 I will not keep this form upon my head, 
 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. 
 
 King Philip. I fear some outrage, and I '11 follow her. 
 
 [Exit. 
 
 Lewis. 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 ; 
 
ACT III. SCENE IV. Sg 
 
 And bitter shame hath spoil'd the sweet world's taste, no 
 That it yields nought but shame and bitterness. 
 
 Pamiulph. 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 show evil. 
 What have you lost by losing of this clay? 
 
 Lewis. All days of glory, joy, and happiness. 
 
 Pandulph. 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. 120 
 
 'T is strange to think how much King John hath lost 
 In this which he accounts so clearly won ; 
 Are not you griev'd that Arthur is his prisoner ? 
 
 Lewis. As heartily as he is glad he hath him. 
 
 Pandulph. 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. 130 
 
 John hath seiz'd Arthur; and it cannot be 
 That, whiles warm life plays in that infant's veins, 
 The misplac'd 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. 
 That. John may stand, then Arthur needs must fall; 
 So be it, for it cannot be but so. ijo 
 
 Lewis. But what shall I gain by young Arthur's fall ? 
 
 Pandulph. You, in the right of Lady Blanch your wife, 
 May then make all the claim that Arthur did. 
 
 Lewis. And lose it, life and all, as Arthur did. 
 
9 o KING JOHN. 
 
 Pandulph. How green you are 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, i 5 o 
 
 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. 
 
 Lewis. May be he will not touch young Arthur's life, 160 
 But hold himself safe in his prisonment. 
 
 Pandulph. O, sir, when he shall hear of your approach, 
 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 fingers' ends of John. 
 Methinks I see this hurly all on foot; 
 
 And, O, what better matter breeds for you i 7 o 
 
 Than I have nam'd ! The bastard Faulconbridse 
 Is now in England, ransacking the church, 
 Offending charity; if but a dozen French 
 Were there in arms, they 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; 't is wonderful 
 
 'o v 
 
ACT III. SCENE IV. 
 
 91 
 
 What may be wrought out of their discontent, 
 
 Now that their souls are topfull of offence. 180 
 
 For England go; I will whet on the king. 
 
 Lezvis. Strong reasons make strong actions; let us go: 
 If you say ay, the king will not say no. [Exeunt. 
 
 THE MARRIAGE OF LEWIS AND BLANCH. 
 
\ 1 
 
 All murthers past do stand excus'd in this (iv. 3. 51). 
 
 ACT IV. 
 
 Scene I. A Room in a Castle. 
 
 Enter Hubert and two Attendants. 
 
 Hubert. Heat me these irons hot; and look thou 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. 
 
ACT IV. SCENE I. ^ 
 
 i Attendant. I hope your warrant will bear out the deed. 
 Hubert. Uncleanly scruples ! fear not you; look to 't. — 
 
 [Exeunt Attendants. 
 Young lad, come forth ; I have to say with you. 
 
 Enter Arthur. 
 
 Arthur. Good morrow, Hubert. 
 
 Hubert. Good morrow, little prince. 
 
 Arthur. As little prince, having so great a title 10 
 
 To be more prince, as may be. You are sad. 
 
 Hubert. Indeed, I have been merrier. 
 . Arthur. 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 clay is long; 
 And so I would be here, but that I doubt 
 My uncle practises more harm to me : 20 
 
 He is afraid of me and I of him. 
 Is it my fault that I was Geffrey's son ? 
 No, indeed, is 't not; and I would to heaven 
 I were your son, so you would love me, Hubert. 
 
 Hubert. [Aside] If I talk to him, with his innocent prate 
 He will awake my mercy which lies dead; 
 Therefore I will be sudden and dispatch. 
 
 Arthur. 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; 30 
 
 I warrant I love you more than you do me. 
 
 Hubert. [Aside] His words do take possession of my bos- 
 om. — 
 Read here, young Arthur. — [Showing a paper. 
 
 [Aside] How now, foolish rheum ! 
 
94 KING JOHN. 
 
 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 ? 
 
 Arthur. Too fairly, Hubert, for so foul effect. 
 Must you with hot irons burn out both mine eyes ? 
 
 Hubert. Young boy, I must. 
 
 Arthur. And will you ? 
 
 Hubert. And I will. 
 
 Arthur. Have you the heart? When your head did but 
 ache, 4I 
 
 I knit my handkercher 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 head, 
 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 lien still, 5 o 
 
 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 pleas'd that you must use me ill, 
 Why then you must. Will you put out mine eyes ? 
 These eyes that never did nor never shall 
 So much as frown on you. 
 
 Hubert. I have sworn to do it, 
 
 And with hot irons must I burn them out. 
 
 Arthur. Ah, none but in this iron age would do it ! 60 
 
 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; 
 
ACT IV. SCENE I. 
 
 95 
 
 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 believ'd him, — no tongue but Hubert's. 70 
 Hubert. Come forth. [Stamps. 
 
 Re-enter Attendants, with a cord, irons, etc. 
 Do as I bid you do. 
 
 Arthur. O, save me, Hubert, save me ! my eyes are out 
 Even with the fierce looks of these bloody men. 
 
 Hubert. Give me the iron, I say, and bind him here. 
 
 Arthur. Alas, what need you be so boisterous-rough ? 
 I will not struggle, I will stand stone-still. 
 For heaven sake, Hubert, let me not be bound ! 
 Nay, hear me, Hubert, drive these men away, 
 And I will sit as quiet as a lamb; 80 
 
 I will not stir, nor wince, nor speak a word, 
 Nor look upon the iron angerly. 
 Thrust but these men away, and I '11 forgive you, 
 Whatever torment you do put me to. 
 
 Hubert. Go, stand within; let me alone with him. 
 
 1 Attendant. I am best pleas'd to be from such a deed. 
 
 [Exeunt Attendants. 
 
 Arthur. 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. 
 
 Hubert. Come, boy, prepare yourself. 90 
 
 Arthur. Is there no remedy ? 
 
 Hubert. None, but to lose your eyes. 
 
 Arthur. O heaven, that there were but a mote in yours, 
 A grain, a dust, a gnat, a wandering hair, 
 Any annoyance in that precious sense ! 
 
96 KING JOHN. 
 
 Then feeling what small things are boisterous there, 
 Your vile intent must needs seem horrible. 
 
 Hubert. Is this your promise ? go to, hold your tono-ue. 
 
 Arthur. Hubert, the utterance of a brace of tongues 
 Must needs want pleading for a 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. 
 
 Hubert. I can heat it, boy. 
 
 Arthur. No, in good sooth; the fire is dead with grief, 
 Being create for comfort, to be us'd 
 In undeserv'd extremes. See else yourself: 
 There is no malice in this burning coal; 
 The breath of heaven has blown his spirit out, 
 And strew'd repentant ashes on his head. 
 
 Hubert. But with my breath I can revive it, boy. 
 
 Arthur. An 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 clog 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 
 That mercy which fierce fire and iron extends, 
 Creatures of note for mercy-lacking uses. 
 
 Hubert. Well, see to live; I will not touch thine eye 
 For all the treasure that thine uncle owes : 
 Yet am I sworn, and I did purpose, boy, 
 With this same very iron to burn them out. 
 
 Arthur. O, now you look like Hubert ! all this while 
 You were disguised. 
 
 Hubert. Peace! no more. Adieu. 
 
ACT IV. SCENE I. 
 
 97 
 
 Your uncle must not know but you are dead: 
 
 I '11 fill these dogged spies with false reports; 
 
 And, pretty child, sleep doubtless and secure, 130 
 
 That Hubert, for the wealth of all the world, 
 
 Will not offend thee. 
 
 Arthur. O heaven ! I thank you, Hubert. 
 
 Hubert. Silence ! no more. Go closely in with me ; 
 Much danger do I undergo for thee. [Exeunt. 
 
 Scene II. King John's Palace. 
 Enter King John, Pembroke, Salisbury, and other Lords. 
 
 King John. Here once again we sit, once again crown'd, 
 And look'd upon, I hope, with cheerful eyes. 
 
 Pembroke. This once again, but that your highness pleas'd, 
 Was once superfluous : you were crown'd before, 
 And that high royalty was ne'er pluck'd off, 
 The faiths of men ne'er stained with revolt; 
 Fresh expectation troubled not the land 
 With any long'd-for change or better state. 
 
 Salisbury. Therefore, to be possess'd with double pomp, 
 To guard a title that was rich before, 10 
 
 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. 
 
 Pembroke. 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. 20 
 
 Salisbury. In this the antique and well noted face 
 Of plain old form is much disfigured; 
 And, like a shifted wind unto a sail, 
 
 G 
 
9 8 KING JOHN. 
 
 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. 
 
 Pembroke. 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. 
 
 Salisbury. To this effect, before you were new crown 'd, 
 We breath'd our counsel; but it pleas'd your highness 
 To overbear it, and we are all well pleas'd. 
 Since all and every part of what we would 
 Doth make a stand at what your highness will. 
 
 King John. Some reasons of this double coronation 
 I have possess'd you with and think them strong; 
 And more, more strong, when lesser is my fear, 
 I shall indue you with : meantime 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. 
 
 Pembroke. 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 c 
 
 Bend their best studies, — heartily request 
 The enfranchisement of Arthur ; whose restraint 
 Doth move the murmuring lips 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 mew up 
 Your tender kinsman, and to choke his davs 
 
ACT IV. SCENE II. 99 
 
 With barbarous ignorance, and deny his youth 
 
 The rich advantage of good exercise ? 60 
 
 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. 
 
 Enter Hubert. 
 
 King John. Let it be so ; I do commit his youth 
 To your direction. — Hubert, what news with you? 
 
 \Ta king him apart. 
 
 Pembroke. This is the man should do the bloody deed; 
 He show'd his warrant to a friend of mine. 70 
 
 The image of a wicked heinous fault 
 Lives in his eye : that close aspect of his 
 Does show the mood of a much troubled breast ; 
 And I do fearfully believe 't is done, 
 What we so fear'd he had a charge to do. 
 
 Salisbury. The colour of the king doth come and go 
 Between his purpose and his conscience, 
 Like heralds 'twixt two dreadful Rattles set; 
 Llis passion is so ripe, it needs must break. 
 
 Pembroke. And when it breaks, I fear will issue thence so 
 The foul corruption of a sweet child's death. 
 
 King 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 deceas'd to-night. 
 
 Salisbury. Indeed we fear'd his sickness was past cure. 
 
 Pembroke. 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. 
 
 King John. Why do you bend such solemn brows on me ? 
 
ioo KING JOHN. 
 
 Think you I bear the shears of destiny ? 9 i 
 
 Have I commandment on the pulse of life ? 
 
 Salisbury. It is apparent foul play; and 't is shame 
 That greatness should so grossly offer it. 
 So thrive it in your game ! and so, farewell. 
 
 Pembroke. Stay yet, Lord Salisbury; I '11 go with thee, 
 And find the inheritance of this poor child, 
 His little kingdom of a forced grave. 
 That blood which owed the breadth of all this isle, 
 Three foot of it doth hold; bad world the while ! 100 
 
 This must not be thus borne ; this will break out 
 To all our sorrows, and ere long I doubt. {Exeunt Lords. 
 
 King John. They burn in indignation. I repent; 
 There is no sure foundation set on blood, 
 No certain life achiev'd by others' 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 ; 
 Pour down thy weather. — How goes all in France? 
 
 Messenger. From France to England. Never such a power 
 For any foreign preparation m 
 
 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 comes that they are all arriv'd. 
 
 King 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 ? 
 
 Messenger. My liege, her ear 
 
 Is stopp'd with dust ; the first of April died 120 
 
 Your noble mother : and, as I hear, my lord, 
 The Lady Constance in a frenzy died 
 
ACT IF. SCENE II. iqi 
 
 Three days before. But this from rumour's tongue 
 I idly heard ; if true or false I know not. 
 
 King John. Withhold thy speed, dreadful Occasion ! 
 O, make a league with me, till I have pleas'd 
 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 ? 130 
 
 Messenger. Under the Dauphin. 
 
 King John. Thou hast made me giddy 
 
 With these ill tidings. — 
 
 Enter the Bastard and Peter of Pomfret. 
 
 Now, what says the world 
 To your proceedings ? do not seek to stuff 
 My head with more ill news, for it is full. 
 
 Bastard. But if you be afeard to hear the worst, 
 Then let the worst unheard fall on your head. 
 
 King John. Bear with me, cousin ; for I was amaz'd 
 Under the tide : but now I breathe again 
 Aloft the flood, and can give audience 
 To any tongue, speak it of what it will. 140 
 
 Bastard. How I have sped among the clergymen, 
 The sums I have collected shall express. 
 But as I travelPd hither through the land, 
 I find the people strangely fantasied; 
 Possess'd with rumours, 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, 150 
 
 That, ere the next Ascension-day at noon, 
 Your highness should deliver up your crown. 
 
 King John. Thou idle dreamer, wherefore didst thou so ? 
 
102 KING JOHN. 
 
 Peter. Foreknowing that the truth will fall out so. 
 
 King 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. — [Exit Hubert with Peter. 
 
 O my gentle cousin, 
 Hear'st thou the news abroad, who are arriv'd ? 160 
 
 Bastard. 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, whom they say is kill'd to-night 
 On your suggestion. 
 
 King John. Gentle kinsman, go, 
 
 And thrust thyself into their companies. 
 I have a way to win their loves again ; 
 Bring them before me. 
 
 Bastard. I will seek them out. 
 
 King John. Nay, but make haste; the better foot be- 
 fore. , 7 o 
 
 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. 
 
 Bastard. The spirit of the time shall teach me speed. 
 
 [Exit. 
 
 King John. Spoke like a sprightful noble gentleman. — 
 Go after him; for he perhaps shall need 
 Some messenger betwixt me and the peers, 
 And be thou he. 
 
 Messenger. With all my heart, my liege. [Exit. 
 
 King John. My mother dead ! ,8i 
 
ACT IV. SCENE II. I03 
 
 Re-enter Hubert. 
 
 Hubert. My lord, they say five moons were seen to-night; 
 Four fixed, and the fifth did whirl about 
 The other four in wondrous motion. 
 
 King John. Five moons ! 
 
 Hubert. 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, 190 
 
 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 em.battailed and rank'd in Kent. 200 
 
 Another lean unwash'd artificer 
 Cuts off his tale and talks of Arthur's death. 
 
 King John. Why seek'st thou to possess me with these 
 fears ? 
 Why urgest thou so oft young Arthur's death ? 
 Thy hand hath murther'd him ; I had a mighty cause 
 To wish him dead, but thou liadst none to kill him. 
 
 Hubert. No had, my lord ! why, did you not provoke me ? 
 
 King 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, 210 
 
 And on the winking of authority 
 To understand a law, to know the meaning 
 
104 KING JOHN. 
 
 Of dangerous majesty, when perchance it frowns 
 More upon humour than advis'd respect. 
 
 Hubert. Here is your hand and seal for what I did. 
 
 Ki?ig 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 1 
 l How oft the sight of means to do ill deeds 
 Make deeds ill donelj Hadst not thou been by, 220 
 
 A fellow by the hand of nature mark'd, 
 Quoted, and sign'd to do a deed of shame, 
 This murther had not come into my mind; 
 But taking note of thy abhorr'd aspect, 
 Finding thee fit for bloody villany, 
 Apt, liable to be employ'd in clanger, 
 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. 
 
 Hubert. My lord, — 230 
 
 King 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 240 
 
 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 brav'd, 
 Even at my gates, with ranks of foreign powers ; 
 Nay, in the body of this fleshly land, 
 
ACT IV. SCENE III. 105 
 
 This kingdom, this confine of blood and breath, 
 
 Hostility and civil tumult reigns 
 
 Between my conscience and my cousin's death. 
 
 Hubert. Arm you against your other enemies, 
 I '11 make a peace between your soul and you. 250 
 
 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 murtherous thought ; 
 And you have slander'cl nature in my form, 
 Which, howsoever rude exteriorly, 
 Is yet the cover of a fairer mind 
 Than to be butcher of an innocent child. 
 
 King John. Doth Arthur live ? O, haste thee to the peers, 
 Throw this report on their incensed rage, 261 
 
 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 haste. 
 I conjure thee but slowly; run more fast. [Exeunt 
 
 Scene III. Before the Castle. 
 Enter Arthur, on the ivalls. 
 
 Arthur. 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 disguisM me quite. 
 I am afraid ; and yet I '11 venture it. 
 If I get clown, and do not break my limbs, 
 I '11 find a thousand shifts to get away ; 
 
io 6 KING JOHN. 
 
 As good to die and go, as die and stay. [Leaps down. 
 
 O me ! my uncle's spirit is in these stones. — 9 
 
 Heaven take my soul, and England keep my bones ! [Dies. 
 
 Efiter Pembroke, Salisbury, and Bigot. 
 
 Salisbury. Lords, I will meet him at Saint Edmundsbury; 
 It is our safety, and we must embrace 
 This gentle offer of the perilous time. 
 
 Pembroke. Who brought that letter from the cardinal? 
 
 Salisbury. 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. 
 
 Bigot. To-morrow morning let us meet him then. 
 
 Salisbury. Or rather then set forward ; for 't will be 
 Two long days' journey, lords, or ere we meet. 20 
 
 Enter the Bastard. 
 
 Bastard. Once more to-day well met, distemper'd lords ! 
 The king by me requests your presence straight. 
 
 Salisbury. 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. 
 
 Bastard. Whate'er you think, good words, I think, were best. 
 
 Salisbury. Our griefs, and not our manners, reason now. 
 
 Bastard. But there is little reason in your grief; 30 
 
 Therefore 't were reason you had manners now. 
 
 Pembroke. Sir, sir, impatience hath his privilege. 
 
 Bastard. 'T is true, to hurt his master, no man else. 
 
 Salisbury. This is the prison. What is he lies here ? 
 
 [Seeing Arthur. 
 
 Pe7?ibroke. O death, made proud with pure and princely 
 beauty ! 
 The earth had not a hole to hide this deed. 
 
ACT IV. SCENE III. I0 y 
 
 Salisbury. Murther, as hating what himself hath done, 
 Doth lay it open to urge on revenge. 
 
 Bigot. Or, when he doom'd this beauty to a grave, 
 Found it too precious-princely for a grave. 4 o 
 
 Salisbury. 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 object, 
 Form such another? This is the very top, 
 The height, the crest, or crest unto the crest, 
 Of murther'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 soft remorse. 50 
 
 Pembroke. All murthers past do stand excus'd in this; 
 And this, so sole and so unmatchable, 
 Shall give a holiness, a purity, 
 To the yet unbegotten sin of times, 
 And prove a deadly bloodshed but a jest, 
 Exampled by this heinous spectacle. 
 
 Bastard. It is a damned and a bloody work ; 
 The graceless action of a heavy hand, 
 If that it be the work of any hand. 
 
 Salisbury. If that it be the work of any hand ! (>o 
 
 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, 
 Never to taste the- pleasures of the world, 
 Never to be infected with delight, 
 Nor conversant with ease and idleness, 70 
 
I0 8. KING JOHN 
 
 Till I have set a glory to this head, 
 By giving it the worship of revenge. 
 
 em ro e. \ Q ur sou j s relisriously confirm thy words. 
 Bigot. ) 
 
 Enter Hubert. 
 
 Hubert. Lords, I am hot with haste in seeking you. 
 Arthur cloth live • the king hath sent for you. 
 
 Salisbury. O, he is bold and blushes not at death. — 
 A vaunt, thou hateful villain, get thee gone ! 
 
 Hubert. I am no villain. 
 
 Salisbury. Must I rob the law ? 
 
 \D rawing his sword. 
 
 Bastard. Your sword is bright, sir ; put it up again. 
 
 Salisbury. Not till I sheathe it in a murtherer's skin. So 
 
 Hubert. 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. 
 
 Bigot. Out, dunghill ! dar'st thou brave a nobleman ? 
 
 Hubert. Not for my life; but yet I dare defend 
 My innocent life against an emperor. 89 
 
 Salisbury. Thou art a murtherer. 
 
 Hubert. Do not prove me so. 
 
 Yet I am none : whose tongue soe'er speaks false, 
 Not truly speaks ; who speaks not truly, lies. 
 
 Pemb?-oke. Cut him to pieces. 
 
 Bastard. Keep the peace, I say. 
 
 Salisbury. Stand by, or I shall gall you, Faulconbridge. 
 
 Bastard. Thou wert better gall the devil, Salisbury ; 
 If thou but frown on me, or stir thy foot, 
 Or teach thy hasty spleen to do me shame, 
 I '11 strike thee dead. Put up thy sword betime ; 
 
ACT IV. SCENE III. 109 
 
 Or I '11 so maul you and your toasting-iron, 
 
 That you shall think the devil is come from hell. 100 
 
 Bigot. What wilt thou do, renowned Faulconbridge ? 
 Second a villain and a murtherer? 
 
 Hubtrt. Lord Bi°:ot, I am none. 
 
 Bigot. Who kill'd this prince 
 
 Hubert. 'T is not an hour since I left him well; 
 I honour'd him, I lov'd him, and will weep 
 My date of life out for his sweet life's loss. 
 
 Salisbury. Trust not those cunning waters of his eyes, 
 For villany is not without such rheum ; 
 And he, long traded in it, makes it seem 
 Like rivers of remorse and innocency. no 
 
 Away with me, all you whose souls abhor 
 The uncleanly savours of a slaughter-house ; 
 For I am stifled with this smell of sin. 
 
 Bigot. Away toward Bury, to the Dauphin there ! 
 
 Pembroke. There tell the king he may inquire us out. 
 
 {Exeunt Lords. 
 
 Bastard. 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. 
 
 Hubert. Do but hear me, sir. 
 
 Bastard. Ha ! I '11 tell thee what ; 120 
 
 Thou 'rt damn'd as black — nay, nothing is so 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. 
 
 Hubert. Upon my soul — 
 
 Bastard. 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 spicier twisted from her womb 
 
no KING JOHN. 
 
 Will serve to strangle thee ; a rush will be a beam 
 
 To hang thee on; or wouldst thou drown thyself, 130 
 
 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. 
 
 Hubert. 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 left him well. 
 
 Bastard. Go, bear him in thine arms. 
 
 I am amaz'd, methinks, and lose my way h° 
 
 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 scamble and to part by the 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 : 150 
 
 Now powers from home and discontents at home 
 Meet in one line; and vast confusion waits, 
 As doth a raven on a sick-fall'n 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 '11 to the king. 
 A thousand businesses are brief in hand, 
 And heaven itself doth frown upon the land. [Exeunt. 
 
Upon the altar at St. Edmundsbury (v. 4. 18). 
 
 ACT V. 
 
 Scene I. King John's Palace. 
 Enter King John, Pandulph, and Attendants. 
 
 King John. Thus have I yielded up into your hand 
 The circle of my glory. [Giving the crown. 
 
II2 KING JOHN. 
 
 Pandulph. Take again 
 
 From this my hand, as holding of the pope 
 Your sovereign greatness and authority. 
 
 King 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 inflam'd. 
 Our discontented counties do revolt ; 
 Our people quarrel with obedience, 
 
 Swearing allegiance and the love of soul 10 
 
 To stranger blood, to foreign royalty. 
 This inundation of mistemper'd humour 
 Rests by you only to be qualified : 
 Then pause not ; for the present time 's so sick, 
 That present medicine must be minister'd, 
 Or overthrow incurable ensues. 
 
 Pandulph. 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, 20 
 
 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. 
 
 King 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. 
 Bastard. All Kent hath yielded; nothing there holds out 
 But Dover castle : London hath receiv'd, 31 
 
 Like a kind host, the Dauphin and his powers, 
 ^our nobles will not hear you, but are gone 
 
ACT V. SCENE I. 
 
 113 
 
 To offer service to your enemy, 
 
 And wild amazement hurries up and down 
 
 The little number of your doubtful friends. 
 
 King John. Would not my lords return to me again, 
 After they heard young Arthur was alive ? 
 
 Bastard. They found him dead and cast into the streets, 
 An empty casket, where the jewel of life 4° 
 
 By some damn'd hand was robb'd and ta'en away. 
 
 King John. That villain Hubert told me he did live. 
 
 Bastard. 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 threatener, and outface the brow 
 Of bragging horror : so shall inferior eyes, 50 
 
 That borrow their behaviours from the great, 
 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, 60 
 
 And grapple with him ere he comes so nigh. 
 
 King John. The legate of the pope hath been with me, 
 And I have made a happy peace with him ; 
 And he hath promis'd to dismiss the powers 
 Led by the Dauphin. 
 
 Bastard. O inglorious league ! 
 
 Shall we, upon the footing of our land, 
 Send fair-play orders and make compromise, 
 
 H 
 
114 KING JOHN. 
 
 Insinuation, parley, and base truce 
 
 To arms invasive ? shall a beardless boy, 
 
 A cocker'd silken wanton, brave our fields, 7 o 
 
 And 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. 
 
 King John. Have thou the ordering of this present time. 
 
 Bastard. Away, then, with good courage ! yet, I know, 
 Our party may well meet a prouder foe. {Exeunt. 
 
 Scene II. The Dauphin's Camp at St. Edmundsbury. 
 
 Enter, in arms, Lewis, Salisbury, Melun, Pembroke, Bigot, 
 
 and Soldiers. 
 
 Lewis. 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. 
 
 Salisbury. Upon our sides it never shall be broken. 
 And, noble Dauphin, albeit we swear 
 
 A voluntary zeal and an unurg'd faith 10 
 
 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 
 By 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 
 
ACT V. SCENE II. 
 
 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, O 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, 
 
 And follow unacquainted colours here ? 
 
 AVhat,'here? O 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 Christian armies might combine 
 
 The blood of malice in a vein of league, 
 
 And not to spend it so unneighbourly ! 
 
 Lewis. A noble temper dost thou show in this ; 
 And great affections wrestling in thy bosom 
 Doth make an earthquake of nobility. 
 O, what a noble combat hast thou fought 
 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 amaz'd 
 Than had I seen the vaulty top of heaven 
 Figur'd quite o'er with burning meteors. 
 
 ii5 
 
n6 KING JOHN 
 
 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 enrag'd, 
 
 Nor met with fortune other than at feasts, 
 
 Full of warm blood, of mirth, of gossiping. 
 
 Come, come; for thou shalt thrust thy hand as deep 60 
 
 Into the purse of rich prosperity 
 
 As Lewis himself: — so, nobles, shall you all, 
 
 That knit your sinews to the strength of mine. — 
 
 And even there, methinks, an angel spake; 
 
 Enter Pandulph. 
 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. 
 
 Pandulph. Hail, noble prince of France ! 
 
 The next is this : King John hath reconcil'd 
 Himself to Rome ; his spirit is come in, 7 o 
 
 That so stood out against the holy church, 
 The great metropolis and see of Rome. 
 Therefore thy threatening 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 further harmful than in show. 
 
 Lewis. Your grace shall pardon me, I will not back; 
 I am too high-born to be propertied, 
 
 To be a secondary at control, 80 
 
 Or useful serving-man and instrument, 
 To any sovereign state throughout the world. 
 Your breath first kindled the dead coal of wars 
 Between this chastis'd kingdom and myself, 
 And brought in matter that should feed this fire ; 
 
ACT V. SCENE II. uj 
 
 And now 't is 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 ; 90 
 
 And come ye 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, ido 
 
 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 roi !' 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 ? 
 
 And shall I now give o'er the yielded set? 
 
 No, no, on my soul, it never shall be said. 
 
 Paudulph. You look but on the outside of this work. 
 
 Lewis. Outside or inside, I will not return no 
 
 Till my attempt so much be glorified 
 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? 
 
n8 KING JOHN. 
 
 Enter the Bastard, attended. 
 
 Bastard. 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. 
 
 Pandulph. The Dauphin is too wilful-opposite, 
 And will not temporize with my entreaties ; 
 He flatly says he '11 not lay down his arms. 
 
 Bastard. By all the blood that ever fury breath 'd, 
 The youth says well. Now hear our English king ; 
 For thus his royalty doth speak in me. 
 He is prepar'd, 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 prepar'd 
 To whip this dwarfish war, these pigmy arms, 
 From out the circle of his 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 be feebled here, 
 That in your chambers gave you chastisement? 
 No ! know the gallant monarch is in arms, 
 And like an eagle o'er his aery towers, 
 To souse annoyance that comes near his nest. — 
 
ACT V. SCENE II. II9 
 
 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-visag'd maids 
 Like Amazons come tripping after drums, 
 Their thimbles into armed gauntlets change, 
 Their needles to lances, and their gentle hearts 
 To fierce and bloody inclination. 
 
 Lewis. There end thy brave, and turn thy face in peace ; 
 We grant thou canst outscold us. Fare thee well ; x6o 
 
 We hold our time too precious to be spent 
 With such a brabbler. 
 
 Pandulph. Give me leave to speak. 
 
 Bastard. No, I will speak. 
 
 Lewis. We will attend to neither. 
 
 Strike up the drums ; and let the tongue of war 
 Plead for our interest and our being here. 
 
 Bastard. Indeed, your drums, being beaten, will cry out ; 
 And so shall you, being beaten. Do but start 
 An echo with the clamour of thy drum, 
 And even at hand a drum is ready brac'd 
 That shall reverberate all as loud as thine ; 170 
 
 Sound but another, and another shall 
 As loud as thine rattle the welkin's ear 
 And mock the deep-mouth'd thunder : for at hand, 
 Not trusting to this halting legate here, 
 Whom he hath us'd 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. 
 
 Lewis. Strike up our drums, to find this danger out. 
 
 Bastard. And thou shalt find it, Dauphin, do not doubt. 
 
 [Exeunt. 
 
KING JOHN. 
 
 Scene III. The Field of Battle. 
 Alarums. Enter King John and Hubert. 
 
 King John. How goes the day with us ? O, tell me, Hu- 
 bert. 
 Hubert. Badly, I fear. How fares your majesty ? 
 King John. This fever, that hath troubled me so long, 
 Lies heavy on me ; O, my heart is sick ! 
 
 Enter a Messenger. 
 
 Messenger. My lord, your valiant kinsman, Faulconbridge, 
 Desires your majesty to leave the field 
 And send him word by me which way you go. 
 
 King John. Tell him, toward Swinstead, to the abbey 
 there. 
 
 Messenger. Be of good comfort ; for the great supply 
 That was expected by the Dauphin here, 10 
 
 Are wrack'd three nights ago on Goodwin Sands. 
 This news was brought to Richard but even now; 
 The French fight coldly, and retire themselves. 
 
 King John. Ay me ! this tyrant fever burns me up, 
 And will not let me welcome this good news. — 
 Set on toward Swinstead : to my litter straight ; 
 Weakness possesseth me, and I am faint. [Exeunt. 
 
 Scene IV. Another Part of the Field. 
 Enter Salisbury, Pembroke, and Bigot. 
 
 Salisbury. I did not think the king so stor'd with friends. 
 
 Pembroke. Up once again ; put spirit in the French : 
 If they miscarry, we miscarry too. 
 
 Salisbury. That misbegotten devil, Faulconbridge, 
 In spite of spite, alone upholds the day. 
 
 Pembroke. They say King John sore sick hath left the field. 
 
ACT V. SCENE IV. 12 i 
 
 Enter Melun, wounded. 
 
 Melun. Lead me to the revolts of England here. 
 
 Salisbury. When we were happy we had other names. 
 
 Pembroke. It is the Count Melun. 
 
 Salisbury. Wounded to death. 
 
 Melun. Fly, noble English, you are bought and sold \ 10 
 Unthread the rude eye of rebellion, 
 And welcome home again discarded faith. 
 Seek out King John and foil 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 moe with me, 
 Upon the altar at Saint Edmundsbury ; 
 Even on that altar where we swore to you 
 Dear amity and everlasting love. 20 
 
 Salisbury. May this be possible ? may this be true ? 
 
 Melun. 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 ? 
 W T hat 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, 30 
 
 He is forsworn, if e'er those eyes of yours 
 Behold another clay 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, 
 
122 KING JOHN 
 
 If Lewis by your assistance win the day. 
 
 Commend me to one Hubert with your king ; 4 o 
 
 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. 
 
 Salisbury. We do believe thee ; and beshrew my soul 
 But I do love the favour and the form 50 
 
 Of this most fair occasion, by the which 
 We will untread the steps of damned flight, 
 And like a bated and retired flood, 
 Leaving our rankness and irregular course, 
 Stoop low within those bounds we have o'erlook'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, 60 
 
 And happy newness, that intends old right. 
 
 [Exeunt, leading off Melun. 
 
 Scene V. The French Camp. 
 Enter Lewis and his train. 
 
 Lewis. The sun of heaven methought was loath to set, 
 But stay'd and made the western welkin blush, 
 When English measure 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 tattering colours clearly up, 
 Last in the field, and almost lords of it ! 
 
ACT V. SCENE VI. I2 $ 
 
 Enter a Messenger. 
 
 Messenger. Where is my prince, the Dauphin ? 
 
 Leivis. Here; what news? 
 
 Messenger. The Count Melun is slain ; the English lords 
 By his persuasion are again fall'n off, u 
 
 And your supply, which you have wish'd so long, 
 Are cast away and sunk on Goodwin Sands. 
 
 Lewis. Ah, foul shrewd news ! beshrew thy very heart ! 
 I did not think to be so sad to-night 
 As this hath made me. — Who was he that said 
 King John did fly an hour or two before 
 The stumbling night did part our weary powers? 
 
 Messenger. Whoever spoke it, it is true, my lord. 19 
 
 Lezvis. Well ; keep good quarter and good care to-night. 
 The day shall not be up so soon as I, 
 To try the fair adventure of to-morrow. \_Exeunt. 
 
 Scene VI. An Open Place in the Neighborhood of Swiii- 
 
 stead Abbey. 
 
 Enter the Bastard and Hubert, severally. 
 
 Hubert. Who 's there ? speak, ho ! speak quickly, or I 
 shoot. 
 
 Bastard. A friend. — What art thou ? 
 
 Hubert. Of the part of England. 
 
 Bastard. Whither dost thou go ? 
 
 Hubert. What 's that to thee ? why may not I demand 
 Of thine affairs, as well as thou of mine ? 
 
 Bastard. Hubert, I think ? 
 
 Hubert. 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 ? 
 
 Bastard. Who thou wilt ; and if thou please, 
 
124 KING JOHN 
 
 Thou mayst befriend me so much as to think 10 
 
 I come one way of the Plantagenets. 
 
 Hubert. Unkind remembrance ! thou and eyeless night 
 Have done me shame.— Brave soldier, pardon me, 
 That any accent breaking from thy tongue 
 Should scape the true acquaintance of mine ear. 
 
 Bastard. Come, come ; sans compliment, what news 
 abroad ? 
 
 Hubert. Why, here walk I in the black brow of night, 
 To find you out. 
 
 Bastard. Brief, then ; and what 's the news ? 
 
 Hubert. O, my sweet sir, news fitting to the night, 
 Black, fearful, comfortless, and horrible. 20 
 
 Bastard. Show me the very wound of this ill news ; 
 I am no woman, I '11 not swoon at it. 
 
 Hubert. The king, I fear, is poison'd by a monk; 
 I left him almost speechless, and broke out 
 To acquaint you with this evil, that you might 
 The better arm you to the sudden time, 
 Than if you had at leisure known of this. 
 
 Bastard. How did he take it? who did taste to him? 
 
 Hubert. A monk, I tell you ; a resolved villain, 
 Whose bowels suddenly burst out : the king 3 o 
 
 Yet speaks, and perad venture may recover. 
 
 Bastard. Who didst thou leave to tend his majesty? 
 
 Hubert. 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. 
 
 Bastard. Withhold thine indignation, mighty heaven, 
 And tempt us not to bear above our power ! — 
 I '11 tell thee, Hubert, half my power this night, 
 Passing these flats, are taken by the tide, 4 o 
 
 These Lincoln Washes have devoured them ; 
 Myself, well mounted, hardly have escap'd. 
 
ACT V. SCENE VII. l2 ~ 
 
 Away before : conduct me to the king ; 
 
 I doubt he will be dead or ere I come. [Exeunt. 
 
 Scene VII. The Orchard of Swinstead Abbey. 
 Enter Prince Henry, Salisbury, and Bigot. 
 
 Prince Henry. 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 makes 
 Foretell the ending of mortality. 
 
 Enter Pembroke. 
 
 Pembroke. His highness yet doth speak, and holds be- 
 lief 
 That, being brought into the open air, 
 It would allay the burning quality 
 Of that fell poison which assaileth him. 9 
 
 Prince Henry. Let him be brought into the orchard here. — 
 Doth he still rage ? [Exit Bigot. 
 
 Pembroke. He is more patient 
 
 Than when you left him ; even now he sung. 
 
 Prince Henry. 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. 'T is strange that death should 
 sing. 20 
 
 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. 
 
I2 6 KING JOHN. 
 
 Salisbwy. 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. 
 
 Enter Attendants, and Bigot, carrying King John in a 
 
 chair. 
 
 King 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, 30 
 
 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. 
 
 Prince Henry. How fares your majesty? 
 
 King John. Poison'd, — ill fare — dead, forsook, cast off; 
 And none of you will bid the winter come 
 To thrust his icy fingers in my maw, 
 Nor let my kingdom's rivers take their course 
 Through my burn'd bosom, nor entreat the north 
 To make his bleak winds kiss my parched lips ^ 
 
 And comfort me with cold. I do not ask you much : 
 I beg cold comfort; and you are so strait 
 And so ingrateful, you deny me that. 
 
 Prince Henry. O that there were some virtue in my tears, 
 That might relieve you ! 
 
 King John. The salt in them is hot. 
 
 Within me is a hell ; and there the poison 
 Is as a fiend confin'd to tyrannize 
 On unreprievable condemned blood. 
 
 Enter the Bastard. 
 
 Bastard. O, I am scalded with my violent motion 
 And spleen of speed to see your majesty ! s< 
 
 King John. O cousin, thou art come to set mine eye. 
 The tackle of my heart is crack'd and burn'd, 
 
ACT V. SCENE VII. I2 y 
 
 And all the 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 seest is but a clod 
 And module of confounded royalty. 
 
 Bastard. The Dauphin is preparing hitherward, 
 Where heaven He knows how we shall answer him ; 60 
 
 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. 
 
 Salisbury. You breathe these dead news in as dead an 
 ear. — 
 My liege ! my lord ! — But now a king, now thus. 
 
 Prince Henry. 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? 
 
 Bastard. Art thou gone so ? I do but stay behind 70 
 
 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 ? show now your mended faiths, 
 And instantly return with me again, 
 To push destruction and perpetual shame 
 Out of the weak door of our fainting land. 
 Straight let us seek, or straight we shall be sought ; 
 The Dauphin rages at our very heels. 80 
 
 Salisbury. 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. 
 
i 2 8 KING JOHN. 
 
 Bastard. He will the rather do it when he sees 
 Ourselves well sinewed to our defence. 
 
 Salisbury. Nay, it is in a manner done already : 
 For many carriages he hath dispatch'd 9 o 
 
 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. 
 
 Bastard. Let it be so. — And you, my noble prince, 
 With other princes that may best be spar'd, 
 Shall wait upon your father's funeral. 
 
 Prince Henry. At Worcester must his body be interr'd ; 
 For so he will'd it. 
 
 Bastard. Thither shall it then. 100 
 
 And happily may your sweet self put on 
 The lineal state and glory of the land ! 
 To whom, with all submission, on my knee 
 I do bequeath my faithful services 
 And true subjection everlastingly. 
 
 Salisbury. And the like tender of our love we make, 
 To rest without a spot for evermore. 
 
 Prince Henry. I have a kind soul that would give you 
 thanks, 
 And knows not how to do it but with tears. 
 
 Bastard. O, let us pay the time but needful woe, no 
 
 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 shall make us rue, 
 If England to itself do rest but true. [Exeunt. 
 
NOTES. 
 
ABBREVIATIONS USED IN THE NOTES. 
 
 Abbott (or Gr.)> Abbott's Shakespearian Grammar (third edition). 
 A. S., Anglo-Saxon. 
 
 A. V., Authorized Version of the Bible (1611). 
 
 B. and F., Beaumont and Fletcher. 
 B. J., Ben Jonson. 
 
 Camb. ed., " Cambridge edition" oi Shakespeare, edited by Clark and Wright. 
 
 Cf. {confer), compare. 
 
 Clarke, " Casseli's Illustrated Shakespeare," edited by Charles and Mary Cowden 
 Clarke (London, n. d.). 
 
 Coll., Collier (second edition). 
 
 Coll. MS., Manuscript Corrections of Second Folio, edited by Collier. 
 
 D., Dyce (second edition). 
 
 FL, F. G. Fleay's ed. oi King John (London and Glasgow, 1878). 
 
 H., Hudson (first edition). 
 
 Halliwell, J. O. Halliwell (folio ed. of Shakespeare). 
 
 Id. {idem), the same. 
 
 K., Knight (second edition). 
 
 Nares, Glossary, edited by Halliwell and Wright (London, 1859). 
 
 Prol., Prologue. 
 
 S., Shakespeare. 
 
 Schmidt, A. Schmidt's Shakespeare-Lexicon (Berlin, 1874). 
 
 Sr., Singer. 
 
 St., Staunton. 
 
 Theo., Theobald 
 
 W., White. 
 
 Walker, Wm. Sidney Walker's Critical Examination of the Text of Shakespeare 
 (London, 1S60). 
 
 Warb., Warburton. 
 
 Wb., Webster's Dictionary (revised quarto edition of 1879). 
 
 Wore, Worcester's Dictionary (quarto edition). 
 
 The abbreviations of the names of Shakespeare's Plays will be readily understood ; as 
 T. N. for Twelfth Night, Cor. for Coriolanus, 3 Hen. VI. for The Third Part of King 
 Henry the Sixth, etc. P. P. refers to The Passionate Pilgrim ; V. and A . to Venus 
 and Adonis; L. C. to Lover's Complaint ; and Sonn. to the Sonnets. 
 
 When the abbreviation of the name of a play is followed by a reference to page, 
 Rolfe's edition of the play is meant. 
 
 The numbers of the lines (except for King John) are those of the " Globe" ed. or 
 of Crowell's reprint of that ed. 
 
NOTES. 
 
 
 
 TOMB OF KING JOHN IN WORCESTER CATHEDRAL. 
 
 ACT I. 
 
 Dramatis Persons. — We give these as in the Catnb. and Globe eds. 
 The Var. of 1821 and most of the modern eds. add sundry historical de- 
 tails ; as the fact that Prince Henry was "afterwards King Henry III.," 
 etc. The Earl of Pembroke was William Mareshall ; the Earl of Essex 
 was Geffrey Fitz-Peter, who held the office of Chief Justiciary of Eng- 
 land ; the Earl of Salisbury was William Longsword ; and Lord Bigot 
 
I3 2 NOTES. 
 
 was Robert Bigot, Earl of Norfolk. " Faulconbridge " is the spelling of 
 the folio, followed by the majority of the modern editors. Fleay retains 
 also the old forms "'Gourney" and "Chatillion." 
 
 Scene I. — Most of the eds. give the scene as "Northampton. A 
 Room of State in the King's Palace" There is no doubt that the court 
 was then held at Northampton ; but with regard to the locality of some 
 of the ofher scenes we cannot speak so positively. The ist scene of act 
 iv., for instance, is laid by Capell in " Northampton," by Halliwell in 
 " Dover," and by W. in " Canterbury." As the Camb. editors remark, 
 " nothing is gained by an attempt to harmonize the plot with historical 
 facts gathered from Holinshed and elsewhere, when it is plain that S. 
 was either ignorant of them or indifferent to minute accuracy." 
 
 3. /;/ my behaviour. " In the character which I here assume " (John- 
 son) ; " in the words and action that I am going to use" (Malone) ; " not 
 only in my words, but in my bearing and manner — my assumption of su- 
 periority to the ' borrowed majesty ' of John " (Fl.). 
 
 4. Borrowed. The folio form, retained by the Camb. ed. and W. 
 Most eds. give it "borrow'd." 
 
 11. Touraine. The ist folio has " Torayne," the later folios "Lo- 
 rayne" or "Loraine." The old play has "Torain" in the correspond- 
 ing passage. 
 
 16. Disallow. Used by S. nowhere else ; but we have allow of in IV. 
 T. iv. 1. 29 and T. N. iv. 2. 63. 
 
 17. Control. Constraint, compulsion. Cf. Rich. III. iii. 5. 84 :" with- 
 out control " (that is, restraint). See also Hen. V. ii. 4. 96 : 
 
 "French King. Or else what follows? 
 "Exeter. Bloody constraint; for if you hide the crown 
 Even in your hearts, there will he rake for it." 
 
 19. War for war, etc. Steevens compares Jeronimo, 1588-89 : 
 
 "And. Thou shalt pay tribute, Portugal, with blood. 
 " Bal. Tribute for tribute then; and foes for foes." 
 
 24. As lightning. Johnson finds fault with the simile, because "the 
 lightning is destructive, and the thunder innocent;" but it is the quick- 
 ness with which the thunder follows the lightning to which the poet al- 
 ludes. Besides, as Farmer notes, the thunder was not then thought to 
 be harmless. Cf. Temp. ii. 1. 204, ii. 2. 112, M.for M. ii. 2. no fol., J. C. 
 i. 3. 49, Cymb. iv. 2. 271, etc. 
 
 Of course the mention of cannon here is an anachronism, as it is in 
 Macbeth and Hamlet. Gunpowder was not invented until at least a cen- 
 tury later, and artillery is commonly said to have been first used at the 
 battle of Cressy. As K. remarks, S. " uses terms which were familiar to 
 his audience, to present a particular image to their senses. Had he, in- 
 stead of cannon, spoken of the mangonell and the petraria — the stone- 
 flinging machines of the time of John — he would have addressed himself 
 to the very few who might have appreciated his exactness ; but his words 
 would have fallen dead upon the ears of the many." 
 
 27. Trumpet. Trumpeter, herald. See Ham. p. 176 or IV. T p. 168. 
 
ACT I. SCENE I. I3 3 
 
 28. Sullen. Sad, dismal. Cf. R. and J. iv. 5. 88: "sullen dirges." 
 See also Rich. II. p. 222. 
 
 29. Conduct. Escort; as in Hen. V. i. 2. 297: "safe conduct," etc. 
 This use of the word is still retained in military parlance. 
 
 30. Chatillon. A quadrisyllable, like the " Chatillion " of the folio. 
 34. Party. Part, side ; as in ii. 1. 361 and iii. 1. 123 below. See also 
 
 Rich. II. p. 195- 
 
 37. Manage. Administration. Cf. Temp. i. 2. 70: "the manage of 
 mv state;" M. of V. iii. 4. 25: "The husbandry and manage of my 
 house," etc. 
 
 39. Our strong possession, etc. See p. 32 above. 
 
 49. Charge. Cost, expense. See Rich. II. p. 175. The 1st folio has 
 "expeditious," which Fl. retains, making it = " urgent, sudden." 
 
 50. Your faithful subject, etc. Steevens remarks that the character of 
 the Bastard, adopted from the old play, is "compounded of two distinct 
 personages :" " Falcasius de Brente " of Matthew Paris's Chronicle, and 
 the natural son of Richard I. "named Philip," mentioned by Holinshed. 
 Malone suggests that the author of the old play was led to affix the name 
 of Paidconbridge to this son of King Richard by a passage in the contin- 
 uation of Harding's Chronicle, 1543, where he is called "one Faulcon- 
 bridge, therle of Kent, his bastarde, a stoute-hearted man." It is said 
 that his mother was a lady of Poictou, and that King Richard bestowed 
 upon her son a lordship in that province. The old play gives only this 
 slight hint of the character which S. has made so much of: 
 
 "Next them a bastard of the king's deceas'd, 
 A bardie wild-head, rough, and venturous." 
 
 54. Ca-ur-de-lion. Spelt uniformly "Cordelion" in the folios. _ 
 62. Put you o'er. Refer you ; the only instance of the phrase in S. 
 
 64. Rude man. Fl. gives "rude-man" (like goodman, etc.) and com- 
 pares " rudesby " in T. of S. iii. 2. 10 and T. N. iv. 1. 55. 
 
 65. Diffidence. Distrust, suspicion ; the only sense of the word in S. 
 
 Cf. 1 Hen. VI. iii. 3. 10 : 
 
 " We have been guided by thee hitherto, 
 And of thy cunning had no diffidence ;" 
 
 and Tear, i. 2. 161 : "needless diffidences." 
 
 68. A\ A corruption of he, common in the language of the vulgar, 
 but sometimes put into the mouth of the well-bred (Schmidt). The early 
 eds. print it without the apostrophe ; the modern ones give a? or 'a. 
 
 69. Pound. S. uses both pound and pounds for the plural. See Rich. 
 II. p. 182. 
 
 75. Whether. The folios (except the 4th) have "where," as in 11. I. 
 167 below and not a few other passages. W. prints "whe'r," which is 
 another contraction found in the old eds. In 134 below the folios have 
 " whether," though the word is metrically equivalent to a monosyllable, 
 as here. See Gr. 466. 
 
 78. Pair fall, etc. Good luck befall the frame that bore the pains of 
 maternity for me! Cf. V. and A. 472: "Fair fall the wit that can so 
 well defend her !" See also I. I. L. ii. 1. 124, 125. 
 
82. old Sir Robert, father. Perhaps Fl. is right in omitting the comma 
 after Robert. 
 
 84. Lent. Heath conjectured "sent;" but cf. R. of L. 17, A. W. ii. 2. 
 8, Per. prol. 24, etc. 
 
 85. Trick. "Peculiarity" (Schmidt); as in W. T. ii. 3. 100 : "The 
 trick of 's frown;" Lear, iv. 6. 108: "The trick of that voice I do well 
 remember," etc. Some connect this use of the word with its heraldic 
 application = copy. Mr. Wilbraham, in his MS. notes (cited in the Camb. 
 ed.), gives from an old account-book : "July 21st, 1691, received of Mr. 
 Cole for a trick of Consure's arms, 2s. 6d." 
 
 86. Affecteth. Resembles ; a sense not found elsewhere in S., but 
 somewhat like its use = imitate, as in T. of A. iv. 3. 199 : "Thou dost af- 
 fect my manners," etc. 
 
 88. The large composition, etc. " This expression finely brings to the 
 eye those magnificent proportions of manly strength that characterized 
 Richard I., and which helped to make him the heroic ideal of English 
 hearts" (Clarke). 
 
 93. With that half-face. The early eds. have "With half that face;" 
 corrected by Theo. Some editors put a period at the end of 92. 
 
 94. A half- fac\i groat. A silver groat (or fourpence) with the king's 
 profile on it ;' first coined in the reign of Henry VII. The groat was not 
 coined at all until the time of Edward III. But S. did not mind these 
 little anachronisms. For the contemptuous use of half-faced, cf. 2 Hen. 
 LV.\\\.2. 283: "this same half-faced fellow, Shadow." Here there is 
 a play upon the word. 
 
 100. The emperor. Henry VI. 
 
 no. Took it, etc. Took his oath, protested. Cf. I Hen. LV. v. 4. 154 : 
 " I '11 take it upon my death, I gave him this wound ; Ld. ij. 4. 9 : "They 
 take it already upon their salvation, that though I be but Prince of Wales, 
 yet I am the king of courtesy," etc. Fl. quotes Lover's Progress, v. 3 : 
 
 "Upon my death I take it, uncompell'd, 
 That they are guilty." 
 
 119. Which fault. Cf. iii. I. 40 below : " Which harm," etc. Gr. 269. 
 
 Lies on the hazards of=\s risked by ; a gambling phrase (Fl.). Cf. M. 
 for M. iv. 2. 166 : " I '11 lay myself in hazard," etc. 
 
 127. This concludes. "This is a decisive argument. As your father, 
 if he liked him, could not be forced to resign him, so, not liking him, he 
 is not at liberty to reject him" (Johnson). Perhaps it is simply = this is 
 the conclusion. 
 
 137. Lord of thy presence. " Master of that fine manly person inherited 
 from Cceur-de-lion ;" with perhaps the added idea, as Clarke suggests, 
 of " master of thine own individuality or identity." Cf. ii. 1. 367 and 377 
 below. Halliwell quotes Sir Henry Wotlon's description of The Happy 
 
 Man , 
 
 Lord of himself, though not of lands, 
 And having nothing, yet hath all." 
 
 138. An if. The folios have " And if," as often. Gr. 101, 105. 
 
 139. And L, etc. The folio reads: "And I had his, sir Roberts his 
 like him," etc. The modern editors arrange it in as many different ways 
 
ACT I. SCENE I. I35 
 
 as a Chinese puzzle. The majority give it, " And I had his, Sir Robert 
 his, like him." Fleay has "And I had his Sir Robert's; his, like him ;" 
 that is, " his (my brother's) shape of Sir Robert ; his (my brother's) ; like 
 him (my brother) — Philip pointing at his brother at the words his and 
 him." 1 The reading in the text is that of the Camb. ed. Sir Robert's his 
 may perhaps be=his, derived from Sir Robert, or Sir Robert's shape as 
 seen in him ; spoken contemptuously, the repeated his being treated as 
 a noun. Johnson explains "Sir Robert his" as = Sir Robert's, the his 
 being used instead of the possessive \r, as in " Mars his sword " {Sonn. 
 55. 7), " Lewis his satisfaction " {Hen. V. i. 2. 88), etc. ; but we doubt 
 whether that form of the possessive was ever used with the thing pos- 
 sessed " understood," not expressed. Schmidt considers that in Sir 
 Robert's his we have " the \r of the genitive and his combined." 
 
 140. Riding-rods. Switches. 
 
 142. Rose. It was the fashion in Elizabeth's time to wear rosettes of 
 ribbon, and sometimes real roses, stuck behind the ear. Steevens cites 
 Marston, B. J., Davenant, and Burton in illustration of the custom. 
 
 To understand the allusion in three-farthings, it is necessary to know 
 that Elizabeth coined pieces of that value which had her head and the 
 emblematic rose of England upon them. These coins, as Malone states, 
 were of silver and so thin that they were liable to be cracked. Hence 
 B. J., in his Every Man in His Humour, says : " He values me at a 
 cracked three-farthings." 
 
 144. To. In addition to, besides. Gr. 185. 
 
 146. Face. Fl. reads "hand," as being "necessary for the rhyme, and 
 also for the antithesis to foot, which, after Shakespeare's usual custom, is 
 used in a double sense, one meaning being merely glanced at." 
 
 147. Nob. Contemptuous for Robert. The folio prints it "sir nobbe." 
 Clarke thinks there is a kind of pun on nob, the cant word for head. 
 
 154. Unto the death. Though death be the consequence ; the Fr. a hi 
 mort. Cf. Much Ado, i. 3. 72,"/,. L. L. v. 2. 146, etc. 
 
 161. Arise. Steevens's emendation of the "rise" of the folios. 
 
 162. Plantagenet. Originally not a family name, but a nickname, by 
 which a grandson of Geffrey, the first earl of Anjou, was distinguished, 
 from his wearing a broom-stalk {plauta genista) in his bonnet ; afterwards 
 popularly assigned as a surname to the royal family of England from 
 Henry II. to Richard II. (Malone). 
 
 169. Truth. Honesty (Johnson). Cf. 1S1 below. What though = 
 what of it ? what matters it ? Cf. M. W.\. 1. 286, A. Y. L. iii. 3. 31, Hen. 
 V. ii. 1. 9, etc. 
 
 170. Something about, etc. " / am, says the sprightly knight, your 
 graudso7i, a little irregularly, but every man cannot get what he wishes 
 the legal way. He that dares not go about his designs by day must make 
 his motions in the night ; he to whom the door is shut must climb the 
 window or leap the hatch. This, however, shall not depress me ; for the 
 world never inquires how any man got what he is known to possess, but 
 allows that to have is to have, however it was caught, and that he who 
 wins shot well, whatever was his skill, whether the arrow fell near the 
 mark ox far off it " (Johnson). In at the wiudozv and over the hatch were 
 
I3 6 NOTES. 
 
 proverbial phrases for illegitimacy, as Steevens shows by sundry quota- 
 tions. A hatch is a half-door (the lower half of the door arranged to 
 shut, leaving the upper half open like a window) such as is still common- 
 ly seen in English cottages. Cf. v. 2. 138 below : "take the hatch ;" and 
 Lear, iii. 6. 76 : " Dogs leap the hatch." 
 
 177. A landless knight. Not the king ("John Sans-terre" or "Lack- 
 land," as he was called), but Philip. 
 
 180. Good fortune come to thee, etc. The thee is emphatic. He inti- 
 mates that he himself does not need the good wish, as, according to the 
 proverb, " bastards are born lucky." 
 
 182. A foot. A step, un pas (Johnson). 
 
 184. Joan. A peasant girl. Cf. L. L. L. iii. 1. 207 : " Some men must 
 love my lady and some Joan ;" Id. v. 2. 930 : " While greasy Juan doth 
 keel the pot," etc. 
 
 185. Good den. Good evening. See R. and J. p. 148. " Faulcon- 
 bridge is now entertaining himself with ideas of greatness, suggested by 
 his recent knighthood. Good den, Sir Richard he supposes to be ihe 
 salutation of a vassal ; God-a-mercy, fellow, his own supercilious reply to 
 it " (Steevens). God-a-mercy — God have mercy. Cf. T.ofS. iv. 3. 154, 
 Ham. iv. 5. 199, etc. 
 
 188. Respective. Regardful, or considerate. Cf. M. of V. v. 1. 156: 
 "You should have been respective, and have kept it;" R. and J. iii. 1. 
 128 : "Away to heaven, respective lenity," etc. 
 
 189. Conversion. Change of condition; needlessly changed by Pope 
 to " conversing." 
 
 Your traveller. " It is said in A. W. [ii. 5. 30] that ' a traveller is a 
 good thing after dinner.' In that age of newly excited curiosity, one of 
 the entertainments at great tables seems to have been the discourse of a 
 traveller" (Johnson). 
 
 190. Toothpick. The use of a toothpick was considered a foreign 
 affectation in the time of S. See W. T. p. 206. For mess, see IV. T. 
 p. 157, note on Loiver m esses. 
 
 191. Sufficed. Satisfied ; as in A. Y. L. ii. 7. 131 : 
 
 "till he be first suffic'd, 
 Oppressed with two weak evils, age and hunger, 
 I will not touch a bit." 
 
 192. I suck my teeth. Not using a toothpick, like the traveller. 
 
 193. Picked. Refined. Cf. L. L. L. v. 1. 14 : " He is too picked, too 
 spruce, too affected, too odd, as it were, too peregrinate, as I may call 
 it." See also Ham. p. 262. My picked man of countries '=" my travelled 
 fop" (Holt White). 
 
 196. Absey book. ABC book, or primer, which often included a cate- 
 chism, like the old New England Primer. Halliwell quotes Cotgrave, 
 Fr. Diet. : " Abece, an abcee, the crosse-row, an alphabet." 
 
 201. Compliment. Toilet cites Sir W. Cornwallis's Essays, 1601, in 
 which the extravagance of compliment in that day is thus ridiculed : 
 " We spend even at his [a friend's or stranger's] entrance a whole vol- 
 ume of words. What a deal of synamon and ginger is sacrificed to dis- 
 simulation ! « O, how blessed do I take mine eyes for presenting me 
 
ACT I. SCENE L 137 
 
 with this sight ! O Signior, the star that governs my life in content- 
 ment, give me leave to interre myself in your arms ! — Not so, sir, it is too 
 unworthy an inclosure to contain such preciousness,' &c. &c. This, and 
 a cup of drink, makes the time as fit for a departure as can be." 
 
 203. The Pyrenean. The Pyrenees. 
 
 207. For he is hit a bastard, etc. " He is accounted but a mean man, 
 in the present aqe, who does not show, by his dress, his deportment, and 
 his talk, that he" has travelled, and made observations in foreign coun- 
 tries" (Malone). For smack in 208 the folio has "smoake;" corrected 
 bv Theo. 
 
 '212. Motion. Impulse ; as in iv. 2. 255 below : " The dreadtul motion 
 of a murtherous thought," etc. 
 
 214. Which. Referring to to deliver sweet poison. Cf. Gr. 271. 
 
 219. To blaiv a horn. "He means that a woman who travelled about 
 like a. post was likely to horn her husband" (Johnson). Cf. Much Ado, 
 p. 123, notes on Recheat and Baldric k. 
 
 220. Gnmey. S. may have got this name from Holinshed, who, in his 
 history of King John, mentions a Hugh Gourney (Malone). 
 
 225. Colbrand. A Danish giant, whom Guy of Warwick discomfited 
 in the presence of King Athelstan (Johnson). ^ Cf. Hen. VIII. v. 4. 22 : 
 " I am not Samson, nor Sir Guy, nor Colbrand," etc. 
 
 227. Unreverend. Used by S. interchangeably with unreverent, and = 
 irreverent, disrespectful. Cf. T. G. of V. ii. 6. 14 : " Fie, fie, unreverend 
 tongue ! to call her bad," etc. Irreverent does not occur in S. 
 
 228. Scorn' st thou at. Scoffest thou at. Cf. Rich. III. iv. 4. 102 : 
 " one that scorn'd at me." See also R. and J. p. 160. 
 
 230. Give us leave awhile. Leave us alone ; a courteous expression 
 of the time. See R. and J. p. 150, note on Give leave awhile. 
 
 231. Good leave, good Philip. Coleridge, in one of his Table-Talks, 
 said : " For an instance of Shakespeare's power in minimis, I generally 
 quote James Gurney's character in King John. How individual and 
 comical he is with the four words allowed to his dramatic life !" Clarke 
 adds : " They certainly suffice to show us the free-and-easy style of the 
 confidential servitor; one intrusted with the family secrets of this coun- 
 try household ; one accustomed to treat the eldest son, but not the heir, 
 with a coolly easy familiarity tolerated by the good-humoured young 
 man, and only lightly waved aside by the new-made knight." 
 
 Sparrow! The sparrow was called Philip from its note. Holt White 
 quotes Lyly, Mother Bombie : 
 
 "cry 
 Phip phip the sparrowes as they fly." 
 
 From the note of the bird, Catullus, in his Elegy on Lesbia's Sparrow, has 
 formed a verb : "Ad solam dominam usque pipilabat." Cf. Gascoigne's 
 
 Praise of Philip Sparrow : 
 
 " Of all the byrds that I doo know, 
 Philip my sparrow hath no peere. 
 
 Let other prayse what byrd they will. 
 Sweete Philip' shall be my byrd still." 
 
138 NOTES. 
 
 Sir Richard sportively rebukes Gurney for calling him by his former 
 name : " Philip ! do you take me for a sparrow ?" 
 
 232. There V toys abroad. " Certain trifling changes have come to 
 pass " (Sr.). For toy =trifle, see Ham. p. 247 or M. N. D. p. 179. 
 
 234. Sir Robert might have eat, etc. Steevens quotes Heywood, Dia- 
 logues upon Proverbs, 1 562 : 
 
 "he may his parte on go6d Fridaie eate, 
 And fast never the wurs, for ought he shall geate." 
 
 236. To confess. To be honest, to tell the truth. 
 
 239. Beholding. Beholden, indebted. See M.ofV. p. 135, or Gr. 372. 
 
 240. Holp. Helped; the form regularly used by S. except in Rich. III. 
 v. 3. 167 and Oth. ii. 1. 138, where we find helped. It is also the more 
 common form for the participle, being used ten times, while helped occurs 
 only four times. Holpen is found in the A. V. in Ps. lxxxiii. 8, Dan. xi. 
 34, Luke, i. 54, etc. 
 
 243. Untotvard. Unmannerly ; as in the only other instance of the 
 word in S., T of S. iv. 5. 79: "Then hast thou taught Hortensio to be 
 untoward." 
 
 244. Basilisco-like. An allusion, as Theo. explains, to Soliman and 
 Perseda, a stupid play printed in 1599 : 
 
 " Basilisco. O, I swear, I swear. 
 "Piston. By the contents of this blade,— 
 " Basilisco. By the contents of this blade, — 
 "Piston. I, the aforesaid Basilisco, — 
 "Basilisco. I, the aforesaid Basilisco, — knight, 
 Good fellow, knight. 
 
 "Piston. Knave, good fellow, knave, knave." 
 
 The Bastard, Basilisco-like, insists on being called knight instead of 
 knave. 
 
 250. Proper. Comely, handsome. See M. of V. p. 132, note on A 
 proper man's picture. Cf. Heb. xi. 23. 
 
 Who was it, mother? "No one like Shakespeare for setting straight 
 before the imagination the very look, gesture, and tone with which a few 
 simple words could be uttered. By the way in which he has written 
 these two lines, introducing this little sentence at the close, we see the 
 son's hugging arm thrown round her, the close drawing her to him, the 
 manly wooing voice by which he accompanies the coaxing question " 
 (Clarke). 
 
 256. Dear. Grievous. Cf. Hen. V. ii. 2. 181 : "your dear offences;" 
 Rich. I PP. i. 4. 215 : 
 
 " How canst thou urge God's dreadful law to us, 
 When thou hast broke it in so dear degree?" 
 
 Cf. Temp. p. 124 (note on The dear'st 0' tff loss) or Rich. PP. p. 151. 
 
 260. Some sins, etc. " There are sins that, whatever be determined of 
 them above, are not much censured on earth " (Johnson). 
 
 262. Dispose. Cf. T. G. of V. ii. 7. 86: "All that is mine I leave at 
 thy dispose" (see also Id. iv. 1. 76). For dispose — disposition, temper, 
 see Oth. p. 170. 
 
 265. Aweless. Fearless. Fl. makes it = " unruled, lawless," compar- 
 
ACT II. SCENE I ™ 
 
 ing the use oiawe in A T obody and Somebody : "Subjects unto the awe of 
 Elidun." 
 
 _ 266. Nor keep, etc. The allusion is to the old legend that Richard de- 
 rived his name of Co>ur-de-lion from having torn out the heart of a lion 
 to which he had been exposed by the Duke of Austria in revenge for 
 having killed his son. A metrical form of the story may be found in 
 Percy's Reliques. 
 
 267. Perforce. By force. See A. Y. I. p. 141 or M. N. D. p. 138. 
 
 272. My kin. The king and the dowager queen. Cf. 168 above. 
 
 ACT II. 
 
 Scene I. — In the folio this scene is headed " Sccena Seatnda ;" and 
 the next (iii. 1), "Actus Secuudus:' The latter ends with iii. 1. 74, mak- 
 ing the act consist of only 74 lines ; and " Actus Tertius, Sccsna prima " 
 then begins, continuing to end of iii. 1. " Sccena Secunda " includes iii. 2 
 and iii. 3, and "Senna Tertia' n is iii. 4. The divisions of the last two 
 acts are the same as in the modern eds. Fl. makes the first 299 lines of 
 this scene a second scene of act i., taking the remainder as ii. 1 ; and he 
 divides iii. I into ii. 2 (74 lines) and iii. 1. W. also makes this division 
 of iii. 1, and gives good reasons for it; but for convenience in cross ref- 
 erences we follow the arrangement (first made by Theo.) in the "Globe" 
 ed. and most of the modern eds. 
 
 I. Before Angiers, etc. The folio gives this speech, and the one in 18 
 below, to "Lezvis,^ but it clearly belongs to King Philip, as D., Clarke, 
 and some others assign it. The expression "At our importance " in 7 is 
 alone sufficient to show that it belongs to the king, who would also be 
 more likely to refer to Arthur as "noble boy n than would Lewis, who 
 was of about the same age. As Mr. Williams has remarked, those who 
 adhere to the folio, which is often inaccurate in its prefixes (see, for in- 
 stance, on 368 below), forget that S. has crowded into this drama the 
 events of several years. " In the later acts Lewis plays a conspicuous 
 part, and heads the invasion of England ; but at the period in question 
 he was a mere youth, and was evidently so considered by the dramatist." 
 Cf. 495 below, where the king addresses him as "boy," and 521, where 
 he and Blanch are called "young ones." It is hardly probable that this 
 "beardless boy," as the Bastard afterwards calls him (v. 1. 69) would be 
 the first to welcome the Duke of Austria here, and that in the presence 
 of his royal father. As a rule, S. '• makes his monarchs and great per- 
 sonages open and conclude the dialogue whenever they appear." It may 
 be added that in the old play the corresponding speech is given to King- 
 Philip. 
 
 Fl. believes that the first 200 lines of this scene (with iii. 2. 1-10) were 
 "inserted hurriedly after the rest of the play had been written," and after 
 the death of the poet's son, Hamnet, in 1596; and that the blunders in 
 names "are to be attributed to the confusion caused by grief in Shake- 
 speare's mind." 
 
I4 o NOTES. 
 
 The introduction of Austria here is an anachronism, as Leopold, Duke 
 of Austria, by whom Richard I. had been thrown into prison in 1193, 
 died in 1195, while the action of this play begins in 1 199 (Malone). Cf. 
 the old play (i. 2. 4) : 
 
 " Brave Austria, cause of Cordeliou's death, 
 Is also come to aid thee in thy wars." 
 
 7. Importance. Importunity. See T. N. p. 168; and cf. Much Ado, 
 p. 129, note on Important. 
 
 12. God shall forgive you, etc. "S. has made Arthur of younger age 
 at this period than historical truth warrants ; but he well knew that the 
 truth of tragic story would be more perfectly fulfilled by having a child 
 the subject of injury here. The way in which he has drawn the innocent 
 boy throughout is intensely pathetic — a sweet and gentle nature hurled 
 to and fro like a flower amid tempests ; bruised, wounded, and finally 
 crushed by the stormy passions and ruthless ambitions of the merciless 
 natures around him. That the dramatist has nowise violated natural 
 and characteristic truth, by making the little prince speak with a grace 
 and propriety beyond those generally belonging to children of his age, 
 we have confirmatory evidence in a record made by Froissart in his 
 Chronicles, where he describes the conduct of the Princess of France, 
 then ' a yonge childe of eyght yere of age ' " (Clarke). 
 
 16. Unstained. The Coll. MS. makes the bad alteration "unstrained." 
 As Sr. remarks, "the antithesis of the hand without power, but love 
 without stain, is both lucid and forcible." 
 
 20. Indenture. Contract. See Ham. p. 262, note on A pair of indent- 
 ures. 
 
 23. Pale and white-fae'd refer of course to the chalk cliffs of the 
 southern coast of England. Hence Albion, from the Latin albus, white. 
 
 26. With. By. Gr. 193. On the passage, cf. Rich. II. ii. I. 46 fol. 
 
 34. A more requital. A greater return. Cf. V. and A. 78 : "a more 
 delight;" R. of L. 332 : "a more rejoicing;" C. of E. ii. 2. 174: "a more 
 contempt," etc. 
 
 37. Well then, etc. The first speech given to King Philip in the folio; 
 but the form of expression rather implies that he has spoken before. 
 See on 1 above. 
 
 39. Chief est. A superlative often used by S. See M. of V. ii. 8. 43, 
 Macb. iii. 5. 33, Ham. i. 2. 117, etc. 
 
 40. Plots of best advantages. Most advantageous positions. 
 
 45. Unadvised. Inconsiderate, rash. Clf. R. and J. ii. 2. 118: "It is 
 too rash, too unadvis'd, too sudden," etc. See also 191 and v. 2. 132 be- 
 low. 
 
 49. Indirectly. Wrongfully ; as in Hen. V. ii. 4. 94 : " Your crown 
 and kingdom, indirectly held," etc. So indirection— wrong, in iii. 1. 276 
 below, and in J. C. iv. 3. 75. 
 
 50. A wonder. " The wonder is only that Chatillon happened to ar- 
 rive at the moment when Constance mentioned him ; which the French 
 king, according to a superstition which prevails more or less in every 
 mind agitated by great affairs, turns into a miraculous interposition, or 
 omen of good " (Johnson). 
 
ACT II. SCENE I. 141 
 
 53. We coldly pause for thee. That is, we restrain ourself, and calmly 
 wait to hear thy message. Cf. Much Ado, p. 145, note on Bear it coldly. 
 
 58. Stayed. Waited for. See Ham. p. 268, 
 
 59. All as soon. For this " intensive " use of all, see Gr. 28. 
 
 60. Expedient. Expeditious, rapid ; used by S. in this sense only in 
 plays before 1596 (Fl.). See Rich. II. p. 169 ; and cf. 223 and iv. 2. 268 
 below. 
 
 63. Ate. See Much Ado, p. 132. The folio misprints " Ace." 
 
 65. King's. The later folios have " king." The old play has " Next 
 t' them, a bastard of the king's decease." 
 
 66. Unsettled humours. Restless spirits. 
 
 67. Voluntaries. Volunteers. Cf. T. and C. ii. 1. 106: " Ajax was here 
 the voluntary." 
 
 68. Fierce dragons' spleens. Cf. Rich. III. v. 3. 350 : " Inspire us with 
 the spleen of fiery dragons !" Spleen = impetuosity, ardour. 
 
 69. Have sold their fortunes, etc. Cf. Hen. VIII. i. 1. 83 : 
 
 " O, many 
 Have broke their backs with laying manors on 'em 
 For this great journey." 
 73. Bottoms. Ships. See T. N. p. 162. Waft = wafted ; as in M. of 
 V. v. 1. 11. Gr. 341. Cf. /^rt/ = heated, in iv. 1. 61 below. Halliwell 
 quotes The Affectionate Shepheard, 1 594 : 
 
 " And from Deaths quiver fell a fatall shaft, 
 That under Cupid by the wind was waft." 
 
 75. Scath. Harm, mischief. See R. and J. p. 161. Spenser uses the 
 noun often; as in F. Q. i. 12. 34: "To worke new woe and improvided 
 scath," etc. 
 
 77. More circumstance. Further particulars. See R. and J. p. 178, 
 note on Stay the circumstance. 
 
 85. lineal. By lineal or hereditary right. 
 
 87. Whiles. See on iii. 4. 132 below ; and for if that in 89, Gr. 287. 
 
 95. Underwrought. Undermined ; used by S. nowhere else. Rowe 
 changed his to " its," and the Coll. MS. has " her." 
 
 97. Outfaced infant state. " Brazenly outraged a child's right" (Clarke) ; 
 that is, his right to the throne. For outfaced, cf. v. 1. 49 below. 
 
 101. This little abstract, etc. Cf. W. T. ii. 3. 97 : 
 " Behold, my lords, 
 Although the print be little, the whole matter 
 And copy of the father," etc. 
 
 103. Brief Equivalent to abstract above. Cf. M. W. i. 1. 146, M. N. 
 D. v. 1. 42, etc. 
 
 106. This is Geffrey's. This is Geffrey's heir. Mason's change of this 
 to " his " (adopted by W.) does not seem to be necessary. Clarke makes 
 this is Geffrey 'j=this boy's (that is, his right) is Geffrey's. 
 
 109. Owe. Own, are entitled to. Cf. 248 and iv. 2. 99 below. O'er- 
 masteresl =ha.st become master of, hast got by force. 
 
 in. To draw my answer, etc. "To make me answer according to 
 thy articles" (Schmidt) ; "to draw up my replication out of the clauses 
 of your own brief" (FL). It is legal phraseology. 
 
1 42 NOTES. 
 
 113. Breast. The 1st folio has "beast ;" corrected in 2d folio. 
 119. Excuse. Schmidt is probably right in making this a noun. It 
 seems to be elliptical =my excuse is. Fl. explains it " pardon me." 
 123. Check. "Treat as a bondman" (Schmidt). Cf. 3 Hen. VI. iii. 2. 
 
 "to command, to check, to o'erbear such 
 As are of better person than myself." 
 
 Malone quotes Holinshed: "Surely Queen Eleanor, the kyngs mother, 
 was sore against her nephew Arthur, rather moved thereto by envye con- 
 ceyved against his mother, than upon any just occasion, given in the be- 
 halfe of the childe ; for that she saw, if he were king, how his mother 
 Constance would looke to beare the most rule within the realme of Eng- 
 lande, till her sonne should come to a lawfull age to governe of himselfe. 
 So hard a thing it is, to bring women to agree in one minde, their natures 
 commonly being so contrary." 
 
 127. Than thou, etc. The folio reads "Then thou and John, in man- 
 ners being as like," etc. ; and Fl. prefers that pointing. 
 
 128. Dam. Flere used contemptuously; but not always so. See W. T. 
 p. 178. 
 
 131. If thou wert his mother. "Constance alludes to Elinor's infideli- 
 ty to her husband, Louis VII., when they were in the Holy Land ; on ac- 
 count of which he was divorced from her. She afterwards (1151) married 
 our King Henry II." (Malone). 
 
 134. Hear the crier ! A sarcastic allusion to the crier's proclamation 
 of silence in courts of justice, suggested by Austria's Peace! 
 
 136. An a 1 may catch you, etc. It is said that Austria wore a lion's 
 hide which he had taken as a spoil from Richard when he killed him 
 (Pope). As Johnson adds, S. assumed that this story would be familiar 
 to his audience, and therefore does not refer to it in the play as the 
 ground of the Bastard's hostility to Austria. 
 
 137. The proverb. " Mortuo leoni et lepores insultant" (Erasmus, 
 Adagia, quoted by Malone). Steevens cites The Spanish Tragedy : " So 
 hares may pull dead lions by the beard." 
 
 139. / '// smoke your skin-coat. Halliwell quotes Cotgrave : "Veil 
 aurav, — blowes being understood — I shall be well beaten ; my skin-coat 
 will be soundly curried." In the North of England smoke is a provin- 
 cialism =" to beat severely." 
 
 141. O, well, etc. Clarke is inclined to assign this speech to Constance 
 rather than Blanch, "who seems intended by the dramatist to take no 
 part in what is going forward until there is question of her marriage with 
 the Dauphin, and she is addressed by him ;" but S. follows the old play, 
 in which Blanch says : 
 
 "Joy tide his soul, to whom that spoil belong' d : 
 Ah, Richard, how thy glory here is wrong'd!" 
 
 144. As great Alcides' shows, etc. The folio reads " As great Alcides 
 shooes vpon an Asse ;" and "shoes" was defended by Malone and 
 Steevens, who cited sundry passages referring to the shoes of Hercules 
 on feet too small for them. Fl. also retains "shoes," but changes ass to 
 "ape." The emendation in the text is due to Theo., and is adopted by 
 
ACT II. SCENE I. I43 
 
 most of the recent editors. Keightley conjectures " Alcides' should," and 
 Vaughan " Alcides' does." 
 
 147. Cracker. A play upon the various meanings of the word, including 
 that of boaster. Halliwell quotes Nomenclator, 1585 : " Grand menteur 
 on vanteur, a bragger ; a boster ; a vaunter ; a craker ; a vaine praiser 
 of his owne virtue." Cf. the modern vulgarism, " cracking himself up." 
 
 149. King Philip, determine, etc. The folio reads : 
 
 "King Lewis, determine what we shall doe strait. 
 "Lew. Women & fooles," etc. 
 
 The emendation in the text was made by Theo. Capell's reading, 
 adopted by many of the editors, is 
 
 " Ki"g Philip. Lewis, determine what we shall do straight. 
 "Lewis. Women and fools," etc. 
 
 The objection to this is implied in the note on 1 above. The King 
 would not be likely to refer the matter to a mere "boy" for decision. 
 For Austria's form of address, cf. iii. 1. 198: "King Philip, listen to the 
 cardinal;" and again in 219: "Do so,. King Philip; hang no more in 
 doubt." As Clarke remarks, the reply of John, " I do defy thee, France," 
 appears conclusively to settle the point that we ought to assign the pres- 
 ent speech to King Philip. 
 
 152. Anjou. The folio has " Angiers ;" corrected by Theo. Cf. 487 
 below. 
 
 160. It. For the possessive it, see W. T. p. 172, note on // own. Here 
 it is apparently used in imitation of the language of children, or the 
 "baby-talk" of mothers to their children. 
 
 163. Good my mother, peace! See on p. 34 above. 
 
 165. Coil. Ado, disturbance. See Much Ado, p. 146, or M. A 7 . D 
 p. 168. 
 
 169. Draws. Changed by Capell to " Draw." See Gr. 333. 
 
 S. is fond of comparing tears to pearls. Cf. V. and A. 980, R. of L. 
 I2I 3> 1553. Sonn. 34. 13, T. G. of V. iii. 1. 224, Rich. III. iv. 4. 322, and 
 Lear, iv. 3. 24. 
 
 170. Beads. Cf. J. C. iii. 1. 284: "those beads of sorrow." Fl. sees 
 a play on beads of a rosary. 
 
 177. EhVst. For the contraction of superlatives, see Gr. 473. 
 
 178. Infortunate. Used by S. occasionally instead of unfortunate ; as 
 incertain, ingrateful, insociable, etc. See Gr. 442. 
 
 180. The canon of the law. See Exod. xx. 5. 
 
 183. Bedlam. Lunatic; from Bedlam (or Bethlehem) Hospital in 
 London. Cf. Lear, iii. 7. 103 : "get the Bedlam To lead him," etc. 
 
 184. That he is not only plagued, etc. Another Chinese puzzle for the 
 critics (see on i. 1. 139 above). The folio gives the passage thus : 
 
 "Con. I haue but this to say, 
 That he is not onely plagued for her sin. 
 But God hath made her sinne and her, the plague 
 On this remoued issue, plagued for her, 
 And with her plague her sinne : his iniury 
 Her iniurie the Beadle to her sinne, 
 All punish'd in the person of this childe, 
 And all for her, a plague vpon her." 
 
i 4 4 NOTES. 
 
 The pointing in the text (adopted by K. and the Camb. ed.) is that of 
 Mr. Roby, who explains the passage thus : " God hath made her sin and 
 herself to be a plague to this distant child, who is punished for her and 
 with the punishment belonging to her ; God has made her sin to be an 
 injury to Arthur, and her injurious deeds to be the executioner to punish 
 her sin ; all which (namely, her first sin and her now injurious deeds) are 
 punished in the person of this child." 
 
 Many of the editors adopt Roderick's conjecture of "plagued" for 
 plague in 187. Sr. points the lines thus : 
 
 " But God hath made her sin and her the plague 
 On this removed issue ; — plagu'd for her, 
 And with her plagu'd; her sin, his injury: 
 Her injury, the beadle to her sin:" etc., 
 
 which he explains (abridging Henley) as follows: "Young Arthur is 
 here represented as not only sufferingfrom the guilt of his grandmother, 
 but also by her in person, she being made the very instrument of his suf- 
 ferings. So ypat he is plagued on her account, and plagued with her, that 
 is, by her. Her sin brings upon him his injury, or the evil lie suffers ; 
 and her injury, or the evil she inflicts, is as the beadle to her sin, or exe- 
 cutioner of the punishment annexed to it." 
 
 The only other reading and interpretation we will notice is that of Fl., 
 
 who gives 
 
 " 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 her sin ;" etc. 
 
 His explanation is : " Plagued on her account, and by means of her 
 wrong-doing, which is a plague inflicted by her (cf. her sin, the plague, in 
 line 185) ; the injury inflicted on him, the injury inflicted by her, being the 
 beadle, the chastiser (in Arthur's sufferings) of her original wrong-doing." 
 W. points the passage essentially as in the text, but adopts Roderick's 
 "plagued." H. follows Sr., reprinting his explanation as above. Clarke's 
 reading is the same as Fleay's. 
 
 191. Unadvised. See on 45 above. 
 
 192. Will. There is a play upon the word. 
 
 194. Cauker\l. Venomous, malignant ; as in I Hen. IV. i. 3. 137: "in- 
 grate and canker'd Bolingbroke," etc. 
 
 196. Cry aim. Encourage ; "an expression borrowed from archery = 
 to encourage the archers by crying out aim when they were about to 
 shoot, and then in a general sense to applaud, to encourage with cheers " 
 (Schmidt). Cf. M. IV. iii. 2. 45: "to these violent proceedings all my 
 neighbours shall cry aim." See also Id. ii. 3. 93. Halliwell, among 
 other illustrations of the phrase, cites B. and F., Love's Cure: "Can I 
 cry aim to this against myself?" 
 
 197. Ill-hined repetitions. "Discordant recriminations" (Clarke). Rep- 
 etitious is metrically equivalent to five syllables, like observation in i. 1. 
 208 above. 
 
 198. Trumpet. Trumpeter. See on i. 1. 27 above. 
 
 205. Gentle parte. Friendly parley. For parte, see Hen. V. p. 164 ; 
 and cf. 226 below. 
 
ACT II. SCENE I. I45 
 
 209. Endamagement. Injury. S. uses the noun only here, but we find 
 the verb endamage in T. G. ofV. iii. 2. 43 and I Hen. VI. ii. 1. 77. 
 
 215. Confronts your. The 1st and 2d folios have "Comfort yours," 
 the 3d and 4th "Comfort your;" corrected by Capell. The Coll. MS. 
 gives "Come 'fore your." Winking— shut hastily, in apprehension of 
 danger. 
 
 217. Doth. The form is to be explained by the proximity of waist. 
 Cf. iii. 1. 295 below : "The peril of our curses light on thee." Gr. 412. 
 
 218. Ordinance. Ordnance. See Hen. V. p. 161. 
 
 220. Dishabited. Dislodged. Fl. gives "dishabit'." Cf. waft in ,i 
 above. 
 
 223. Expedient. See on 60 above. 
 
 228. A shaking fever. Cf. Macb. ii. 3. 66 : 
 
 "some say, the earth 
 Was feverous and did shake." 
 See also Cor. i. 4. 61. 
 
 229. Words folded up in smoke. Malone compares R. of L. 1027 : 
 "This helpless smoke of words doth me no right." See also Id. 1042 
 and L. L. L. iii. 1. 64. 
 
 230. To make, etc. That is, to deceive your ears, to delude you. 
 
 233. Forwearied. Wearied out, exhausted; used by S. only here. Cf. 
 Spenser, F. Q. i. 1. 32 : " Ye all forwearied be ;" Id. i. 9. 13 : " Forwearied 
 with my sportes," etc. 
 
 236. Protection. A quadrisyllable. See on 197 above. 
 
 237. Divinely. "Religiously" (246 below), sacredly. 
 
 247. Owe. In the modern sense; but in the next line = owns, is enti- 
 tled to, as in 109 above. 
 
 250. Aspect. The regular accent in S. Gr. 490. 
 
 252. Invulnerable. The 1st folio has "involuerable ;" corrected in 2d 
 folio. 
 
 253. Unvex'd retire. Unmolested return. For the noun, cf. 326 and 
 v. 5. 4 below. 
 
 256. Spotit. Cf. T. and C. iv. 5. 10 : " let thy eyes spout blood," etc. 
 
 258. Fondly pass. Foolishly disregard or reject. Proffer 'd offer has 
 been suspected of corruption, and "love," "favour," "terms," etc., have 
 been suggested in place of offer ; but proffered offer may be a more em- 
 phatic proffer or offer, or a mere inadvertence of composition. 
 
 259. Roundure. Round or circle ( Fr. rondeur ). The folios have 
 "rounder," which indicates the pronunciation. We have rondure in 
 Sonn. 21. 8. 
 
 264. In that behalf which. That is, in which; a common ellipsis in 
 relative clauses. See Gr. 394. 
 
 266. Possession. A quadrisyllable. Cf. repetitions in 197 and protec- 
 tion in 236 above, and ocean in 340 below. Gr. 479. 
 
 268. For him, etc. Cf. the old play : " to him will we remain firm 
 subjects, and for him, and in his fight, we hold our town." 
 
 278. Bloods. "Men of mettle" (Schmidt). Cf. J. C. i. 2. 151 : "the 
 breed of noble bloods." See also 461 below. 
 
 281. Compound. Agree, decide. 
 
 K 
 
I4 6 NOTES. 
 
 288. Swing'd. Whipped, conquered. Cf. T. G. of V. ii. 1. 88, iii. 1. 392, 
 M.for M. v. I. 130, etc. The folio has "swindg'd." 
 
 289. Horse back. As one word (" horsebacke ") in the folio. See 
 Macb. p. 204 (note on Horses) or Gr. 471. 
 
 292. / would set an ox-head, etc. Steevens quotes the old play : 
 
 " But let the frolick Frenchman take no scorn, 
 If Philip front him with an English horn." 
 
 On monster, cf. Oth. iv. 1. 63 : "A horned man 's a monster," etc. 
 
 306. Discoloured. The folio has "discoloured." 
 
 309. Display 'd. Suggested by the banners (see 320 below), though re- 
 ferring in a way to the French. 
 
 314. Malicious. Malignant, destructive. 
 
 316. Gilt. Stained. See Macb. p. 192, note on I 7/ gild, etc. 
 
 321. Like a jolly troop of huntsmen, etc. Hunters used to stain their hands 
 with the blood of the deer as a badge of their success. Cf.y. C. iii. 1. 204: 
 
 "Here wast thou bay'd, brave hart, 
 Here didst thou fall; and here thy hunters stand, 
 Sign'd in thy spoil, and crimson'd in thy lethe." 
 
 323. Dying. There is an obvious play upon the word. The pun was 
 a common one. Hallivvell quotes Heywood, Epigrams, 1562: "Dyers be 
 ever dying, but never dead ;" and Davies, Scourge of Folly, 161 1 : 
 
 "Turbine the dyer stalkes before his dore, 
 Like Caesar, that by dying oft did thrive ; 
 And though the beggar be as proud as pore, 
 Yet (like the mortitide) he dyes to live." 
 
 325. Might. Could. Gr. 312. The folios give the speeches of this 
 Citizen to "Hub." (Hubert), a mistake probably due to the fact that both 
 parts were taken by the same actor. 
 
 326. Retire. Retreat. See on 253 above. 
 
 328. Censured. Judged, determined. See Much Ado, p. 139 ; and for 
 the noun = judgment, Macb. p. 251 or Hani, p, 190. 
 
 The cannot is not strictly consistent with the context. The meaning 
 clearly is that the equality of the two armies is evident, or both are alike ; 
 the best judges cannot see any variation from the equality. 
 
 335. Run. The 1st folio has "rome," changed in the 2d to "runne." 
 W. prefers " roam," as agreeing better with the peaceful progress. He 
 believes that S. had in mind the same stream that suggested the beauti- 
 ful description in T. G. of V. ii. 7. 25-32. Here, however, roam does not 
 seem to fit the comparison so well as run. " The king would rather de- 
 scribe his right as running on in a direct than in an irregular course, 
 such as would be implied in the word roam " (Steevens). Cf. also the 
 very similar passage in v. 4. 53-57, where we have 
 
 "calmly run on in obedience 
 Even to our ocean, to our great King John." 
 
 336. Vex'd. Disturbed Cf. Lear, iv.^.. 2 : " the vex'd sea." See also 
 Temp, i. 2. 229 and R. and J. i. i. 198. 
 
 339. Water. The Coll. MS. has "waters," which W. adopts, on the 
 ground that S. does not use the singular of water as a body, but only as 
 a fluid. 
 
ACT II. SCENE I. 147 
 
 340. Ocean. A trisyllable ; as in T. G. of V. ii. 7. 3 2 - Cf - Milton, Hymn 
 on Nativ..66 : " Whispering new joys to the mild ocean." 
 
 344. Climate. Here apparently =sky, heavens. For its use = country, 
 region, see Rich. II. p. 203. 
 
 ^4. Mousing. Tearing, as a cat does a mouse. Cf. Af. A^. D. v. 1. 
 "74 : " Well moused, lion !" Malone cites Dekker, Wonderful Year, 1603 : 
 " Whilst Troy was swilling sack and sugar, and mousing fat venison, the 
 mad Greekes made bonfires of their houses." Pope changed the word 
 to "mouthing." 
 
 ■zee.. Differences. Quarrels, dissensions. 
 
 356. Fronts. Brows, faces. See Ham. p. 236, note on The front of Jove 
 
 357- Cry havoc I The signal that no quarter was to be given. Cf. 
 
 "Do not cry havoc, where you should hut hunt 
 With modest warrant." 
 
 See also J. C. iii. 1. 273, Ham. v. 2. 375, etc. 
 
 358. Potents. Potentates, powers ; the only instance ot the noun in b. 
 The Coll. MS. has "potent." . . 
 
 367. lord of our presence. "Master of our own identity or individu- 
 ality " (Clarke). See on i. 1. 137 above. % 
 
 368. A greater power than we. Theo. (following Warb.) changed we 
 to " ye." The reference may be to " the Lord of hosts, who has not yet 
 decided the superiority of either army ; and till it be undoubted the 
 people of Angiers will not open their gates " (Toilet). If this be not the 
 meaning, the pouter must be our fears. All the folios assign this speech 
 to the French king. 
 
 371. King >d of Ruled by (Gr. 170). The folio has "Kings of our 
 feare ;" corrected by Tyrwhitt. Resold d=set at rest. Cf. its use = dis- 
 solved, in v. 4. 25 below. 
 
 Scroyles. Scabby fellows (Fr. escrouelles); a term of greatcon- 
 
 373 
 
 Cf. 
 
 tempt. Taylor the Water- Poet speaks of a " hungry sawcy scroyle 
 B. J., Every Man in his Humour, i. I : " hang 'em, scroyles^! and Foe- 
 taster, iv. 3 : " I cry thee mercy, my good scroyle, wast thou ?" 
 
 376. Industrious. Capell conjectured "illustrious;" but, as Steevens 
 remarks, the expression is = " your laborious industry of war." 
 
 378. Mutiues. Mutineers, rebels. Cf. Ham. v. 2. 6 : "the routines m 
 the bilboes." Mutiuer occurs in Cor. i. I. 254. Malone cites a History 
 of the Jews, written in Hebrew by Joseph Ben Gorion, and translated 
 into English by Peter Morwyn, 1575, which tells how three factions in 
 Jerusalem, which had been engaged in " most cruel battailes with one 
 another, made peace, "intending to turne - their cruelty upon the Ko- 
 maines, confirming and ratifying the same atonement and purpose by 
 swearing one to another," etc. S. had probably read this book, as the 
 allusion is not in the old play. 
 
 383. Soul-fearing. Soul-affrighting. For fear= cause to fear, ct. M. 
 of V. il. I. 9 : ,« j te]1 thee> ]ady) this aspect f m i ne 
 
 Hath fear'd the valiant," 
 
 and see note in our ed. p. 137. Ct. fearful in iv. 2. 106 below. 
 
148 NOTES. 
 
 385. Jades. The word meant originally a worthless or vicious horse. 
 See Hen. V. p. 170 and Much Ado, p. 121. For the masculiue use of 
 jade as applied to persons, cf. T. of S. ii. 1. 202. 
 
 387. Vulgar. General, common to all. 
 
 392. Minion. Darling, favourite (Fr. mignon). Cf. Temp. iv. I. 98 : 
 "Mars's hot minion ;" and see our ed. p. 136. 
 
 396. The policy. "That which you call policy" (Schmidt); or "the 
 politic art, the art of Machiavel " (FL). 
 
 398. Knit. Join, unite ; as in iii. 1. 226 below. 
 
 400. Fight who shall. Fight to decide who shall. As Abbott (Gr. 3S2) 
 remarks, " the Elizabethan writers objected to scarcely any ellipsis, pro- 
 vided the deficiency could be easily supplied from the context." After= 
 afterwards ; as in Temp. ii. 2. 10, etc. Gr. 26. 
 
 401. Mettle. The early eds. make no distinction between mettle and 
 metal, using either for the literal or the metaphorical meaning. Thus, 
 in Rich. II. i. 2. 23, the quartos have "mettall" or "mettal," the folios 
 "mettle." 
 
 402. Peevish. Foolish ; perhaps the only sense in S. See Hen. V. 
 p. 171. 
 
 404. Saucy. Impudent, insolent ; used by S. in a stronger sense than 
 the modern one. Cf. J. C. i. 3. 12: "the world, too saucy with the 
 gods," etc. See also Macb. p. 214. 
 
 406. Pell-mell. Cf. Rich. III. v. 3. 312 : " let 's to 't pell-mell," etc. 
 
 411. Thunder. W. adopts Capell's conjecture of "thunders;" but the 
 word may be used collectively = cannon. 
 
 418. You. For you. 
 
 421. Persever. The regular spelling and accent in S. Cf. A. W. iv. 2. 
 36, 37, where it rhymes with ever. Gr. 492. 
 
 424. Niece. The folios have "neere" or "near." The emendation 
 is from the Coll. MS. K. and Clarke retain and defend "near" as = 
 nearly related. 
 
 425. Dauphin. It is " Dolphin " in the folios, as elsewhere ; and W. 
 retains that spelling, which indicates the pronunciation of the time. Cf. 
 1 Hen. VI. i. 4. 107, where there is a play on the word and the name of 
 the fish. 
 
 426. Lusty. " Full of animal life and spirits " (Schmidt) ; as in 255 
 above and 461 below. 
 
 428. Zealous. Explained by Johnson and Schmidt as = pious, religious ; 
 which is favoured by the antithesis. 
 
 431. Bound. Confine, enclose ; as in 442 below. 
 
 434. Complete of. "That is, full of those qualities" (Schmidt) ; com- 
 plete thereof, or therein. Theo. gave " complete of, — say ;" and Hanmer, 
 " complete, oh ! say." 
 
 438. A she. The folios have " as she ;" but the analogy of Other pas- 
 sages in S. favours Thirlby's emendation, which has been generally 
 adopted. See A. Y. L. p. 170, or Gr. 224. 
 
 For the idea that woman was completed or perfected by marriage, see 
 T N. p. 121 (note on Are filPd, etc.) and p. 140 (note on Perfection). 
 
 446. Battery. Battering, assault. 
 
ACT II. SCENE I. I49 
 
 447. Match. Johnson is " loath to think " that there is a play on the word. 
 
 44S. Spleen. See on 68 above ; and cf. iv. 3. 97 and v. 7. 50 below. 
 
 455. Stay. A word that has been a stumbling-block to the commen- 
 tators. See a page and a half of discussion in the Var. of 182 1. Proba- 
 bly Schmidt is right in explaining it as "the imperative of the verb used 
 substantively." The Citizen has begun (416) by saying "vouchsafe awhile 
 to stay. 1 '' Some make stay = support, prop; and Clarke thinks there 
 may be an indirect reference to that sense of the word. "That a re- 
 straint and a support should be personified sufficiently to be supposed 
 capable of shaking 'the rotten carcass of old Death' is not beyond the 
 license of poetry in figurative language." "Flaw," "say," "story," 
 "storm," etc. have been suggested, but no change is necessary. 
 
 462. He speaks plain cannon fire, etc. Cf. Hen. V. v. 2. 156 : " I speak 
 to thee plain soldier." See also Much Ado, ii. I. 255, 343, Ham. iii. 2. 
 414, etc. iuw«cr = "bang" (Schmidt). 
 
 465. Buffets. Boxes ; as in Hen. V. v. 2. 146 : " if I might buffet for 
 my love," etc. 
 
 466. Zounds. Like ''swouuds (see Hani. p. 214), contracted from 
 " God's wounds !" 
 
 468. Conjunction. Connection, union ; as in iii. I. 227 below. Capell 
 marks 468-479 as " Aside to John.' 1 '' 
 
 471. Uusur'd. "Unsure" (iii. 1. 283 below), unassured. 
 
 476. Capable. Susceptible. Cf. iii. 1. 12 below. 
 
 477. Lest zeal, etc. Steevens thought that zeal is compared to "metal 
 in a state of fusion," not to dissolving ice, as Johnson had explained it. 
 Mai one paraphrases the passage thus : " Lest the now zealous and to you 
 well-affected heart of Philip, which but lately was cold and hard as ice, 
 and has nezuly been melted and softened, should by the breath of suppli- 
 cations of Constance, and pity for Arthur, again become congealed and 
 frozen." Cf. iii. 4. 149 below : 
 
 "This act so evilly born shall cool the hearts 
 Of all his people and freeze up their zeal." 
 
 \V. makes pity and remorse the subject of cool and congeal. 
 
 481. Treaty. Here = proposal tending to a treaty ox agreement; as 
 in Cor. ii. 2. 59 and A. and C. iii. 11. 62. 
 
 485. This book of beauty. For the metaphor, cf. R. and J. i. 3. 87 : 
 " This precious book of love, this unbound lover ;" and see Id. iii. 2. 83, 
 Oth. iv. 2. 71, etc. Malone compares Macb. i. 5. 63. 
 
 487. Anjou. The folios have " Angiers," as in 152 above; corrected 
 by Theo. 
 
 492. Promotions. A quadrisyllable. See on 266 above. 
 
 494. Holds hand with. Goes hand in hand with, equals. 
 
 498. Shadow. Reflection; as in V.andA. 162: 
 " Narcissus so himself himself forsook, 
 And died to kiss his shadow in the brook." 
 
 See also Id. 1099, Rich. II. iv. 1. 293 (where there is a play upon shadow, 
 as here), and J. C. i. 2. 58. 
 
 502. Infixed. Imprinted. Cf. A. W. v. 3. 47 : " Where the impres- 
 sion of mine eve infixing," etc. 
 
150 NOTES. 
 
 503. Table. Tablet, or that on which a picture is drawn or painted. 
 Cf. Sonn. 24. 2 : 
 
 "Mine eye hath play'd the painter and hath stell'd 
 Thy beauty's form in table of my heart ;" 
 
 and A. IV. i. I. 106: "to sit and draw 
 
 His arched brows, his hawking eye, his curls, 
 In our heart's table." 
 
 In the speech that follows, there is an allusion to the punishment of 
 " drawing, hanging, and quartering." For similar quibbles, see Much 
 Ado, p. 143, note on Hang it first, and draw it afterwards. 
 
 513. Translate it to my will. Cf. M. IV. i. 3. 54: "He hath studied 
 her will, and translated her will, out of honesty into English." See also 
 A. Y. L. ii. 1. 19. 
 
 527. Volqnessen. The old name of a part of Normandy (the Latin Pa- 
 gus Velocassinus) more recently known as Le Vexin. Cf. the old play : 
 
 " Iolm. First, Philip knows her dowry out of Spaine, 
 To be so great as to content a king: 
 But more to mend and amplify the same, 
 I give in money thirty thousand marks. 
 For land I leave it to thine own demand. 
 
 "Phil. Then I demand Volquesson, Torain, Main, 
 Poiters, and Aniou, these five provinces, 
 Which thou, as King of England, hold'st in France." 
 
 530. Marks. The mark was worth 13 shillings 4 pence. 
 
 532. Join hands. That is, for the formal betrothal. See T. N. p. 160 
 (note on Plight me, etc.) and p. 166 (note on Contracted). 
 
 533. Likes. Pleases. See Ham. pp. 202, 274. The folio points the 
 line thus: "It likes vs well young Princes: close your hands;" cor- 
 rected by Rowe. 
 
 534. And your lips too. This was also a part of the ceremony of be- 
 trothal. See T. A r . v. 1. 159 : 
 
 "A contract of eternal bond of love, 
 Confirm'd by mutual joinder of your hands, 
 Attested by the holy close of lips, 
 Strengthen'd by interchangement of your rings," etc. 
 
 535. Asstir^d. Affianced. Walker conjectures " affied," but the repe- 
 tition with a play on the word is quite in the poet's manner. Cf. 247, 
 248, and 498-500 above. 
 
 538. Saint Mary's chapel. This is said to be the so-called Church of 
 Ronceray, dedicated to St. Mary the Virgin in 1028 and re-dedicated in 
 1 1 19 by Pope Calixtus II. It is now used as a chapel for the students 
 of the School of Arts. 
 
 544. Passionate. Full of passion or sorrow. Cf. T. G.of V. i. 2. 124 : 
 " Poor, forlorn Proteus, passionate Proteus." Passion often = sorrow ; 
 as in L. L. L. v. 2. 118 : "passion's solemn tears," etc. 
 
 550. Vantage. Advantage ; as in Sonn. 88. 12, Rich. II. i. 3. 218, etc. 
 
 558. Exclamation. Outcry, vociferous opposition. Cf. 2 Hen. IV. ii. 
 I. 88 : " What man of good temper would endure this tempest of excla- 
 mation ?" See also R. of L. 705, Rich. III. iv. 4. 153, etc. 
 
 563. Departed with. Parted with. Cf. L. L. L. ii. 1. 147: "Which 
 
ACT II. SCENE I. 
 
 r 5i 
 
 we much rather had depart withal," etc. See also B. J., Every Man out 
 of his Humour, iv. 7 : " Faith, sir, I can hardly depart with ready money ;" 
 B. and F., Two Noble Kinsmen, ii. I : " I may depart with little while I 
 live," etc. Depart was also often = part, separate ; as in 3 Hen. VI. ii. 6. 
 43: "life and death's departing." In the English Marriage Service 
 "till death us do part" was originally "till death us depart;" as in an 
 old play quoted by Nares : " Aye, till death us depart, love." Cf. Spen- 
 ser, F. Q. ii. 10. 14 : " Which Severne now from Logris doth depart." 
 
 566. Rounded. Whispered; as in W. T. i. 2. 217: "whispering, 
 rounding," etc. See also Hen. VIII. p. 168, foot-note. 
 
 568. Broker. Go-between. See Ham. p. 191. There is a play on the 
 word in breaks. 
 
 573. Commodity. Self-interest. Tickling— flattering, cajoling. 
 
 574. Bias. An allusion to the game of bowls. See Ham. p. 200 (note 
 on Assays of bias) and Rich. II. p. 197 (note on Rubs). Henderson quotes 
 Cupid's Whirligig, 1 607 : 
 
 " Oh, the world is like a byas bowle, and it runs 
 All on the rich men's sides." 
 
 The eye (583) was the hole in which the weight was put to give the bowl 
 its bias. 
 
 575. Peized. Poised, balanced. Cf. M. of V. iii. 2. 22 : "to peize the 
 time " (that is, to retard it by hanging weights on it). In Rich. III. v. 3. 
 105, " peize me down " = weigh me down. For %vho = which, see Gr. 264. 
 
 579. Take head from. Take its own course away from. Indifferency — 
 straightforwardness, impartiality. Schmidt makes it = " moderate meas- 
 ure ;" as in the only other instance of the word in S. (2 Hen. IV. iv. 3. 23). 
 
 584. Aid. Coll. adopts Mason's conjecture of "aim ;" but determined 
 aid may be=the aid that he had determined to give. 
 
 587. Rail on. S. uses on or upon with rail much oftener than at or 
 against. 
 
 588. But for because. Only because. ¥ ox for (^because) and for be- 
 cause, see Gr. 151. Cf. 591 just below. 
 
 590. Angels. The gold coin so called. Its value was about ten shil- 
 lings. On one side was a figure of Michael piercing the dragon. The 
 device is said to have been suggested by Pope Gregory's pun on Angli 
 
 GOLDEN ANGEL OF QUEEN ELIZABETH. 
 
^2 NOTES. 
 
 and Angeli. For the quibble here, cf. M. W. i. 3. 60, Much Ado, ii. 3. 35, 
 and 1 Hen. IV. i. 2. 187. 
 
 591. Unattempted. Not tempted. So attempt— tempt ; as in M. of V. 
 iv. 1. 421 : " I must attempt you further," etc. 
 
 593. Whiles. See on 87 above. 
 
 597. Upon commodity. 'That is, when it is for their interest. 
 
 ACT III. 
 
 Scene I. — 5. Be well advised. Consider well what you say. Cf. ad- 
 vised= considerate, in iv. 2. 214 below. 
 
 12. Capable of. Susceptible of. Cf. ii. 1. 476 above. 
 
 14. Subject. Fl. takes this to be the participle, like waft in ii. 1. 73 
 above. 
 
 17. Spirits. Monosyllabic; as often. Gr. 463. Take a truce with = 
 make a truce with, pacify, or quiet ; as in R. and J. iii. 1. 162, etc. 
 
 19. Shaking of. Cf. J. C. v. 3. 38 : " saving of thy life," etc. Gr. 178. 
 
 22. Rheum. Moisture ; often, as here, applied to tears. Cf. Much 
 Ado, v. 2. 85, Rich. II. i. 4. 8, Cor. v. 6. 46, Ham. ii. 2. 529, etc. See also 
 iv. 1. 33 and iv. 3. 108 below. 
 
 23. Peering o'er. " Overpeering" (M. of V. i. I. 12, Ham. iv. 5. 99, 
 etc.), rising above. 
 
 27. " The way in which Salisbury's character is drawn, refined in 
 speech, gentle in manner, has fitness as well as beauty ; he was son to 
 King Henry II. by Rosamond Clifford, surnamed 'Fair Rosamond'" 
 (Clarke). 
 
 33. Which. Who (Gr. 265) ; or we may say that the relative refers in 
 a way to both fury and men. 
 
 41. As. Cf. 296 below : "So heavy as thou shalt not," etc. Gr. 109. 
 
 42. Be content. Be calm ; as in Rich. II. v. 2. 82, etc. 
 
 Clarke remarks here : " The boy's artless appeals to his mother amidst 
 her vehement indignation and passionate lamentation, a compound of 
 maternal ambition and maternal love, should have sufficed to teach her 
 heart the lesson so subtly inculcated by the poet, that ambitious projects 
 indulged for the sake of a being beloved, until they merge affection in 
 violence and absorbing purpose, gradually undermine love in the bosom 
 of the one beloved. It is curious to observe how little of tenderness 
 there is in Arthur towards his mother, as response to all the passionate 
 (but vehemently and even violently passionate) love she lavishes upon 
 him. Thus acutely and truly does Shakespeare indicate his moral les- 
 sons" (Clarke). 
 
 45. Sightless. Unsightly. It means invisible in Macb. i. 5. 50 and i. 7. 
 23. On blots, cf. R. of L. 537 : "birth-hour's blot." 
 
 46. Swart. Swarthy, dark ; as in C. of E. iii. 2. 104 and I Hen. VI i. 
 2. 84. Cf. swart-complexioned in So/in. 28. 1 1. 
 
 Prodigious. Monstrous, unnatural. Cf. Rich. III. i. 2. 22 : 
 
ACT III. SCENE I 153 
 
 " If ever he have child, abortive be it, 
 Prodigious, and untimely brought to light, 
 Whose ugly and unnatural aspect 
 May fright the hopeful mother at the view," etc. 
 
 See also M. A r . D. p. 190 ; and cf. prodigiously in 91 below. 
 
 56. Adulterates. Commits adultery; the only instance of the verb in 
 S. Cf. the adjective in Ham. i. 5. 42, etc. 
 
 65. Underbear. Bear, endure ; as in Rich. II. i. 4. 29 : " And patient 
 unclerbearing of his fortune." 
 
 69. Stoop. That is, stoop to grief (Malone). "Feeling herself bowed 
 down by grief, sinking beneath the load of her sorrows and injuries, she 
 may well say that she will teach them to be proud, to resist the pride of 
 grief which makes her stoop to its overpowering weight. She feels her- 
 self physically giving way under the load of the burden laid upon her ; 
 and with her rich imagination converts the earth to which she is com- 
 pelled to stoop into a supporter and throne''' (Clarke). Some editors 
 adopt Hanmer's " stout " for stoop. 
 
 73. Sorrcnus. Changed by Pope to "sorrow." Jackson would take 
 the poetry out of the passage by reading "in sorrow." 
 
 78. Plays the alchemist, etc. Cf. Sonn. 33. I : 
 
 "Full many a glorious morning have I seen, 
 Flatter the mountain-tops with sovereign eye, 
 Kissing with golden face the meadows green, 
 Gilding pale streams with heavenly alchemy." 
 
 Steevens remarks that Milton has borrowed the image in P. L. iii. 609 : 
 " The arch-chemic sun," etc. 
 
 86. High tides. Great days, " high festivals " (1 Hen. VI i. 6. 26). For 
 tide-time, see R. and J. p. 150, note on lammas-tide. 
 
 87. A r ay, rather, etc. Alluding to Job, iii. 3 and v. 6 (Upton). 
 
 92. But. Except. For wrack (the only spelling in the early eds.), 
 see T. N. p. 162. This instance of the word is wrongly referred to Macb. 
 iii. I in Mrs. Clarke's Concordance. 
 
 99. Counterfeit. The word meant a portrait (see M. of V. iii. 2. 115 : 
 "Fair Portia's counterfeit," etc.) as well as a false coin ; and perhaps, as 
 Malone and Clarke suggest, the two senses are blended here. 
 
 100. Touched and tried. Alluding to the use of the touchstone in test- 
 ing counterfeit coin. 
 
 105. Painted. The Coll. MS. has "faint in." Clarke paraphrases the 
 passage thus: "The contentious vigour of appearance and threatening 
 warlike visage with which you came here on our behalf is turned into a 
 lifeless pretence of amity and simulated peace." 
 
 107. Arm, arm, etc. " This grandly wild appeal of an outraged moth- 
 er has its sublime parallel in that of the outraged father, Lear ; where 
 he invokes the heavens to make his cause their own, because themselves 
 are old. Shakespeare never repeats himself; but he has some few of 
 these exceptional similitudes, where Nature herself has them, in the rare- 
 ness of extreme crises of passion" (Clarke). 
 
 no. Sunset. Perhaps Fl. is right in reading "sun set," on the ground 
 that S. accents sunset on the first syllable. In 3 Hen. VI ii. 2. 116, it is 
 
i54 
 
 NOTES. 
 
 sicjiset, but that is " counted out " as not by S. The only other passages 
 in which the noun occurs are Sonn. 73. 6 and R. and J. iii. 5. 127. 
 
 114. O Lymoges ! O Austria! S. follows the old play in making one 
 personage out of two enemies of Cceur-de-lion. " Leopold, duke of 
 Austria, threw him into prison in a former expedition [in 1 193] ; but the 
 castle of Chaluz, before which he fell [in 1 199], belonged to Vidomar, vis- 
 count of Limoges ; and the archer who pierced his shoulder with an ar- 
 row (of which wound he died) was Bertrand de Gourdon " (Steevens). 
 
 119. Humorous. Capricious. See A. Y. L. p. 146, 
 
 121. Soothest up. Flatterest. Cf. Cor. i. 9. 44: "Made all of false- 
 fac'd soothing," etc. 
 
 122. Ramping. Rampant. Cf. 1 Hen. IV. iii. 1. 153: "a ramping 
 cat ;" and 3 Hen. VI. v. 2. 13 : "a ramping lion." 
 
 123. Party. See on i. 1. 34 above. 
 127. Fall over. Go over, desert. 
 
 129. A calf's skin. The folio has "Calues skin," and " Calues-skin" 
 in 131 and 133 below. It is said that the domestic fools used to wear 
 calf-skin, but here the meaning probably is that a calf-skin would suit 
 his recreant limbs better than a lion's (Ritson). 
 
 130. Should. Changed by Pope to "would," to which it is here 
 equivalent. Cf. Gr. 326. 
 
 138. Of fair Milan cardinal. Mrs. Clarke's Coucoj'dance has the curi- 
 ous misprint "fair Milan cathedral" in the reference to this passage 
 under Milan. 
 
 141. Against. The only instance of spurn against in S. Schmidt com- 
 pares Acts, ix. 5 : " kick against the pricks." We find spurn at in V. and 
 A. 311, C. of E. ii. 2. 136, and Ham. iv. 5. 6 ; and spui'?t upon in Rich. III. 
 i. 2. 42. 
 
 142. Force perforce. An emphatic form of perforce = by force or vio- 
 lence ; used also in 2 Hen. IV. iv. 1. 116 and 2 Hen. VI. i. 1. 258. In 2 
 Hen. IV. iv. 4. 46, it is = of necessity. 
 
 145. Foresaid. Not " 'foresaid," as often printed. 
 
 147. Earthly. The folio has "earthie," which is probably a misprint 
 for "earthlie," as Pope and most of the modern editors consider it. The 
 folio has " earthy " in the same sense in Rich. II. i. 3. 69, but the quartos 
 have "earthly." The Camb. ed. and Fl. retain "earthy" here. 
 
 Interrogatories. Questions asked on oath ; as in M. of V. v. 1. 298, 
 300, and A. W. iv. 3. 207. S. uses the word only in these passages and 
 Cymb. v. 5. 392. The folio has " intergatories " in all but the last, and 
 most of the modern eds. give " inter'gatories " there. 
 
 148. Task. Misprinted " tast " in the 1st and 2d folios (the later ones 
 have " taste ") ; corrected by Theo. 
 
 151. The pope. That is, the pope's, or that of the pope. See Gr. 384. 
 
 154. Toll. Take toll, levy a tax. In A. W. v. 3. 149, it means to pay toll. 
 
 169. Revenue. For the accent, see M. N. D. p. 125 or Gr. 490. 
 
 173. Excommunicate. For the form, cf. I Hen. IV. v. 1. 72 : "These 
 things indeed you have articulate," etc. Gr. 342. 
 
 177. Canonized. The accent on the second syllable, as elsewhere in 
 S. Cf. iii. 4. 52 below ; and see Ham. p. 194. 
 
ACT III. SCENE I. I55 
 
 1 80. Room zuith Rome. This shows that Rome was pronounced like 
 room. Cf. J. C. i. 2. 156 : " Now is it Rome indeed and room enough," 
 etc. In R. of L. 715, it rhymes to doom, and in Id. 1644 to groom. But 
 it would seem to have had sometimes the modern pronunciation. Cf. 1 
 Hen. VI. iii. 1. 51 : 
 
 " Winchester. Rome shall remedy this. 
 Warwick. Roam thither, then." 
 
 201. Your breeches, etc. Steevens remarks : " Perhaps there is some- 
 thing proverbial in this sarcasm. Cf. the old play of King Leir, 1605 : 
 
 ' Well I have a payre of slops for the nonce, 
 Will hold all your mocks.' " 
 
 For slops — breeches, see Much Ado, p. 143. 
 
 204. Bethink you. Consider, reflect ; as in M.for M. ii. 2. 87, 144, etc. 
 
 209. Untrimmed. The reading of the folio, which Schmidt makes = 
 "divested of her wedding-gown." Perhaps W. is right in explaining it 
 as " in deshabille ; and in some such condition was Blanch on account 
 of her unexpected nuptials and the haste in which they were performed." 
 D. suggested " uptrimmed," comparing R. and J. iv. 4. 24 : " Go waken 
 Juliet, go and trim her up ;" but in this case, as W. remarks, " there was 
 no time to trim Blanch up." He adds : "The obvious allusion, too, to 
 the temptation of Saint Anthony makes it clear that the old text is cor- 
 rect. It is of course not intimated that Blanch was then and there in a 
 condition approaching that in which the temptress of Saint Anthony is 
 generally supposed to have won the victory for the Devil. Constance's 
 epithet has at once a slight taint of womanish spite and a forward look 
 for Lewis." Some see in untrimmed an allusion to the fact that brides 
 used to go to church with their hair dishevelled. Cf. Spenser, Prothala- 
 mion, 12. : 
 
 " locks, all loose untyde, 
 As each had bene a Bryde ;" 
 
 and Webster, White Devil : 
 
 " Let them dangle loose 
 As a bride's hair." 
 
 Fl. cites Tancred and Gismunda, v. 2 : 
 
 " So let thy tresses, flaring in the wind, 
 Untrimmed hang about thy bared neck;" 
 
 and Id. v. 3 : "O let me dress up those untrimmed locks." Theo. gave 
 "new and trimmed ;" and Richardson conjectures "entrimmed." 
 
 212. Faith. " Your pledged faith to me " (Fl.). 
 
 222. Bestozo yourself Behave yourself, conduct yourself, act. Cf. T. 
 G. of V. iii. 1. 87 : 
 
 "How and which way I may bestow myself, 
 To be regarded in her sun-bright eye." 
 See also A. Y. I. iv. 3. 87. 
 
 233. But new before. Only just before it. 
 
 235. To clap this royal bargain up. Cf. T of S. ii. I. 327 : " Was ever 
 match clapp'd up so suddenly?" The allusion is to clapping hands, or 
 joining hands, in token of mutual pledge of faith. Cf. Hen. V. v. 2. 133 : 
 
I5 6 NOTES. 
 
 "And so clap hands, and a bargain." See also W. T. p. 152, note on 
 Clap thyself my love. 
 238. Difference. See on ii. I. 355 above. 
 
 240. In both. That is, in both their bloody hostility and their new 
 love. 
 
 241. Regreet. Greeting, salutation; as in M. of V. ii. 9. 89 : "sensible 
 regreets." For the verb, see Rich. II. p. 162. 
 
 242. Fast and loose. A cheating game of gypsies and other vagrants. 
 It is thus described by Sir J. Hawkins : " A leathern belt is made up 
 into a number of intricate folds and placed edgewise upon a table. One 
 of the folds is made to represent the middle of the girdle, so that who- 
 ever should thrust a skewer into it would think he held it fast to the 
 table ; whereas, when he has so done, the person with whom he plays 
 may take hold of both ends and draw it away." Cf. A. and C. iv. 12. 28 : 
 
 " Like a right gypsy, hath, at fast and loose, 
 Beguil'd me to the very heart of loss." 
 
 See also L. L. L. i. 2. 162 and iii. 1. 104 ; and Drayton, Mooncalf: 
 
 " He like a gypsy oftentimes would go ; 
 All kinds of gibberish he hath learn'd to know, 
 And with a stick, a short string, and a noose, 
 Would show the people tricks at fast and loose." 
 
 243. [Inconstant. Inconstant, fickle ; as in T. of S. iv. 2. 14 and Lear, 
 i. I. 304. S. more commonly uses inconstant ; as in R. and J. i. 4. 100, 
 ii. 2. 109, iv. 1. 119, etc. See on infortunate, ii. 1. 178 above. Gr. 442. 
 
 254. Opposite. Opposed, antagonistic. See Oth. p. 160 or T. N. p. 145. 
 
 259. Chafed. Theobald's correction of the " cased " of the folios. 
 Pope has " chased " and Coll. " caged." Cf. Hen. VIII. iii. 2. 206 : " the 
 chafed lion ;" T. of S. i. 2. 203 : " an angry boar chafed with sweat," etc. 
 Fl., who retains "cased" (= "concealed"), says that these passages are 
 not in point, as S. did not write them. 
 
 271. Is not amiss, etc. " Most," " yet," " but," " done," etc., have been 
 conjectured for not ; but the passage was probably intended as a piece 
 of Jesuitical sophistry. Truly done is explained by the following not 
 done : what you have sworn to do amiss is not amiss if truly clone ; but 
 the right doing of what is wrong is not to do it. Fl. explains it thus: 
 " to do amiss (incompletely) that which thou hast sworn to do, is not 
 amiss when it (your course of proceeding) is truly (honestly) done." 
 
 276. Indirection. See on indirectly, ii. 1. 49 above. 
 
 280. But thou hast sworn, etc. The passage is pointed thus in the folio : 
 
 " It is religion that doth make vowes kept, 
 But thou hast sworne against religion : 
 By what thou swear'st against the thing thou swear'st, 
 And mak'st an oath the suretie for thy truth, 
 Against an oath the truth, thou art vnsure 
 To sweare, sweares onely not to be forsworne. 
 Else what a mockerie should it be to sweare ?" 
 
 This is evidently corrupt, at least in the pointing ; but of many attempts 
 to mend it none is quite satisfactory. In 281 we adopt (as Capell, D., 
 and W. do) Johnson's conjecture of which for " what." Hanmer's 
 
ACT III. SCENE I. ^7 
 
 "that" is nearer to the original, and gives the same meaning, but the 
 relative seems better on the whole. Clarke retains " what," explaining 
 the line as including "the double interpretation of 'by swearing to that 
 which is contrary to that which you have sworn,' and 'in swearing by re- 
 ligion against religion.' " The truth thou art unsure to swear, etc., is more 
 perplexing. K. explains it thus : " the truth — that is, the troth, for which 
 you have made an oath the surety, against thy former oath to heaven — 
 this troth, which it was unsure to swear — which you violate your surety 
 in swearing — has only been sworn — swears only — not to be forsworn ; 
 but it is sworn against a former oath, which is more binding, because it 
 was an oath to religion — to the principle upon which all oaths are made." 
 Clarke makes thou art unsure to swear — "thou art hesitating to abide 
 by," He adds: "The difficulty and obscurity in this speech chiefly 
 arise from the expressions swear and swear'st being equally used for 
 what has been sworn at different times; or, in other words, 'thy later 
 vows' and 'thy first:' but the very confusion thus produced in the line 
 of argument has characteristic effect." Sr. follows Rowe in changing 
 swears in 284 to "swear" (imperative). Schmidt defines unsure as 
 " not assured, not certainly knowing." Perhaps the meaning is : the 
 oath you thus swear with no good assurance that you ought to do it. 
 He has just charged the king with giving a pledge inconsistent with his 
 former pledge to the Church ; and this, he implies, could only have been 
 done from imperfect or confused notions as to his duty. Swears only 
 not to be forsworn — \s sworn only as a matter of form. 
 Fl. points the passage as follows : 
 
 " 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 unsure. 
 To swear swears only not to be forsworn ;" etc. 
 
 He explains it thus : " But thou hast sworn the thing thou swear'st 
 against religion (thy vow to be the Church's champion) by the religion 
 thou swearest against, and so thou givest, as pledge of thy truth, thy last 
 oath in opposition to thy first one, which was in its own nature truth it- 
 self. Thou art untrustworthy, unsafe. Swearing is used only that oaths 
 may be kept." On unsure, he compares ii. i. 471 above : " unsur'd assur- 
 ance." He also quotes Edward I. ii. 1 (Shakespeare's part of the play) : 
 
 " Well may I tempt myself to wrong myself. 
 When he hath sworn me by the name of God 
 To break a vow made in the name of God ; 
 What if I swear by this right hand of mine 
 To cut this right hand off? The better way 
 Were to profane the idol than confound it." 
 
 289. Is. The subject vows is plural, but the verb may be said to agree 
 with the predicate nominative rebellion. 7b = towards, against. Cf. Much 
 Ado, ii. 1. 244 : " a quarrel to you," etc. Gr. 187. 
 
 294. Vouchsafe them. Condescend to accept them. Cf. y. C. ii. 1. 313 : 
 "Vouchsafe good morrow from a feeble tongue." See also T. of A. i. 1. 
 152 and Hen. VIII. ii. 3. 43. 
 
158 
 
 NOTES. 
 
 295. Light. The plural is to be explained by the intervening curses. 
 Gr. 412. 
 
 296. As. That. Gr. 109. 
 
 303. Churlish drums. Cf. ii. 1. 76 above, and V. and A. 107: "his 
 churlish drum." 
 
 304. Measures. Marching music. Fl. explains it as "solemn dances " 
 (see A. Y. L. p. 197). Cf. the old play : 
 
 "Blanch. And will your grace upon your wedding-day 
 Forsake your bride, and follow dreadful drums? 
 Nay, good my lord, stay you at home with me. 
 
 "Lewis. Sweetheart, content thee, and we shall agree. 
 
 " Philip. Follow me, lords ; Lord Cardinal, lead the way, 
 Drums shall be music to this wedding-day." 
 
 312. Forethought. Ordained, decreed. Elsewhere (in 1 Hen. IV. iii. 
 2. 38 and Cymb. iii. 4. 171) the word is=foresee, anticipate. 
 
 317. Muse. Wonder ; as often in S. Cf. Cor. iii. 2. 7 : 
 
 " I muse my mother 
 Does not approve me further," etc. 
 
 See also Macb. p. 219. 
 
 318. Respects. Considerations, motives; as in v. 2. 44 and v. 4. 41 
 below. 
 
 320. Fall from. Cf. 3 Hen. VL. iii. 3. 209 : " He 's very likely now to 
 fall from him," etc. 
 
 337. Lady, with me, with me, etc. This is the pointing of the folio. 
 Most of the modern eds. follow Capell in giving " Lady, with me ; [that is, 
 go with me] with me," etc. Capell also changed lies to "lives." Fl. 
 (who prints " li'es " for lives in the next line) says : " Lives was often pro- 
 nounced lees, as here ; so that lie and live had the same sound. The let- 
 ter v could be omitted between any two vowels. Thus in Tancred and 
 Gismunda, iii. chor., Ide (love) rhymes to overthrow, and in Edward ILL 
 g?e (give) rhymes to buy ; in London Prodigal, ii. 1 mde (move) rhymes 
 to too. Chapman is distinguished from all other dramatists by his fre- 
 quent adoption of this pronunciation." 
 
 339. Puissance. Armed force ; as in Hen. V. pro!. 25 and ii. 2. 190, 
 etc. S. makes the word a dissyllable or trisyllable, as suits the meas- 
 ure. 
 
 341. Condition. Quality ; as in M. of V. v. 1. 74 : " the hot condition 
 of their blood," etc. 
 
 Scene II. — 2. Airy. Theo. adopted Warburton's conjecture of 
 " fiery ;" but Percy cited in support of airy Burton's Anat. of Melan- 
 choly: "Aeriall spirits or divells are such as keep quarter most part in 
 the aire, cause many tempests, thunder and lightnings, teare oakes, fire 
 steeples," etc. Henderson adds from Nash's Pierce Pennilesse : "the 
 spirits of the aire will mixe themselves with thunder and lightning, and 
 so infect the clyme where they raise any tempest, that sodainely great 
 mortalitie shall ensue to the inhabitants." 
 
 5. Hubert. Pope inserts "There" and Fl. "Good" before Hubert. 
 Theo. changes Philip to " Richard." 
 
ACT III, SCENE III. 159 
 
 Make tip. Hurry on, go along. Cf. 1 Hen. IV. v. 4. 5 : "I beseech 
 your majesty, make up ;" Id. v. 4. 58 : " Make up to Clifton," etc. 
 
 Scene III. — 2. Cousin. Used familiarly for almost any kinsman or 
 kinswoman. See Ham. p. 179 or A. Y. I. p. 147. 
 8. Set at liberty, etc. The folio reads : 
 
 " imprisoned angells 
 Set at libertie :" etc. 
 
 The transposition was suggested by Walker, and is adopted by W. For 
 angels see on ii. I. 590 above. 
 
 10. Now. Changed by Theo. to "war," and by Hanmer to "maw." 
 
 11. His. Changed by Rowe to "its," to which it is equivalent. See 
 Gr. 228. 
 
 12. Bell, book, and candle. A popular phrase for excommunication, in 
 the ceremonial of which a bell was tolled, a service read from a book, 
 and three candles extinguished in succession. Fl. quotes Marlowe, Dr. 
 Eanstus : 
 
 " Bell, book, and candle, candle, book, and bell, 
 Forward and backward to curse Faustus to hell ;" 
 
 and Bale's Kynge Johan : 
 
 " For as moch as kyng Johan doth Holy Church so handle, 
 Here I do curse hym wyth crosse, boke, bell, and candle,' ' etc. 
 
 26. Time. Pope's correction of the " tune" of the folios. 
 
 28. What good respect, etc. How great a regard I have for thee. Cf. 
 iii. 1. 58 above. 
 
 29. Bonnden. Used again in A. Y. I. i. 2. 298 : " I rest much bound- 
 en to you." Cf. Gr. 344. 
 
 36. Gawds. Gawdy or garish things. Cf. M. N. D. p. 126. 
 
 39. Sound on, etc. The folio reading. Theo. changed on to "one," 
 and "reign," "ear," and "car" have been suggested for race. "Ear" 
 is plausible, but no change is absolutely required. " With either read- 
 ing, drcnvsy, logically, though not grammatically, belongs to night, by the 
 usual Shakespearian inversion ; and surely the clock striking twelve may 
 be said to strike on into the course or current of the slow night" (Fl.). 
 Sr. takes it to be a bell tolling at midnight to call recluses to their devo- 
 tions. 
 
 42. Surly. Gloomy; as in Sonn. 71. 2 : "the surly sullen bell." Cf. 
 sullen in i. 1. 28 above. 
 
 43. Heavy-thick. Pope's emendation of the "heavy, thick" of the fo- 
 lios. Gr. 2. 
 
 44. Tickling. The Coll. MS. has " tingling ;" but, as Clarke remarks, 
 the change " cleprives the passage of the connection between tickling and 
 laughter which was evidently meant by the poet." 
 
 45. Keep. Hold, occupy (Schmidt). Clarke thinks it is also = close, 
 or shut : " laughter dwelling in men's eyes, and causing them to close, 
 or half shut." 
 
 48. If that. For that as a "conjunctional affix," see Gr. 287. 
 
 50. Conceit. Conception, thought. See A. Y. I. pp. 162 and 194. 
 
160 NOTES. 
 
 52. Brooded. Brooding ; that is, vigilant as a bird on its nest. Pope 
 changed the word to " broad-eyed ;" and the Coll. MS. has " the broad." 
 For the active use of passive participles, see Gr. 374. 
 
 57. Adjunct. Cf. R. of L. 133 : "Though death be adjunct," etc. 
 
 59. Hubert, Hubert, Hubert. " How the impression of murderous ea- 
 gerness and urgency is horribly conveyed by the reiterated name, gasped 
 forth with a mixture of stealth and vehemence — half mean dread, half 
 bloodthirsty incitement !" (Clarke). 
 
 65. Death. See p. 33 above. 
 
 70. Powers. The word is used in both numbers to signify an army, as 
 force still is. See J. C. p. 168, note on Are levying powers. 
 
 Scene IV. — 2. Artnado. Fleet (the Spanish armada) ; as in C. of 
 E. iii. 2. 140 : " Spain, who sent whole armadoes of caracks," etc. Con- 
 victed=" defeated, overpowered" (Schmidt). " Collected," " convented," 
 "connected," "convected," "consorted," and "combined" have been 
 proposed as emendations. 
 
 8. England. That is, the king of England. See Hen. V. p. 159 or 
 Macb. p. 239. 
 
 11. Advice. "Deliberate consideration" (Schmidt) ; as in 2 Hen. VI. 
 
 ii. 2. 68: 
 
 And that 's not suddenly to be perform' d, 
 But with advice and silent secrecy." 
 
 12. So fierce a cause. So impetuous a proceeding. For cause Warb., 
 Hanmer, and some others read " course." 
 
 19. Prison. Malone compares 3 Hen. VI. ii. 1. 74: "Now my soul's 
 palace is become a prison." See also iv. 3. 136 below. 
 
 23. Defy. Refuse, spurn. Cf. 1 Hen. IV. i. 3. 228 : " All studies here 
 I solemnly defy," etc. 
 
 29. Detestable. Regularly accented by S. on the first syllable. See 
 R. and J. p. 208, or Gr. 492. 
 
 32. This gap of breath. This passage of my breath, or my mouth. 
 
 35. Buss. Changed by Pope to "kiss." The word had not become 
 vulgar in the time of S. Cf. T. and C. iv. 5. 220 : " Yond towers, whose 
 wanton tops do buss the clouds." The noun occurs in 2 Hen. IV. ii. 4. 
 291 : " Thou dost give me flattering busses." Steevens quotes Drayton, 
 Barons' 1 Wars : " And we by signs sent many a secret buss." Cf. Spen- 
 ser, F. Q. iii. 10. 46 : 
 
 " But every Satyre first did give a busse 
 To Hellenore ; so busses did abound." 
 
 40. That fell anatomy. That cruel skeleton, Death. Cf. C. of E. v. 1. 
 238 : "A mere anatomy." See also T. N. p. 149. 
 
 42. Modern. Commonplace, trite. Cf. Macb. iv. 3. 170 : 
 
 " Where violent sorrow seems 
 A modern ecstasy," etc. 
 
 See also R. and J. p. 188 or A.Y.I, p. 167. The Coll. MS. gives " wid- 
 ow's" here, and K. adopts Heath's conjecture of "mother's." 
 
 44. Not. Omitted in the first three folios, but supplied in the 4th. 
 Delius and St. read "unholy." 
 
ACT III SCENE IV 161 
 
 45. I am not mad, etc. See p. 27 above. 
 
 52. Canonized. Accented on the second syllable, as in in. 1. 177 above. 
 See Gr. 491. 
 
 58. A babe of clouts. A rag-baby. 
 
 64. Friends. The folios have " fiends ;" corrected by Rowe. 
 
 65. Sociable. A quadrisyllable. Gr. 479. 
 
 66. Loves. Lovers. Cf. 35 above. The Coll. MS. has "lovers" here. 
 68. To England, if you will. M alone supposes this to be addressed 
 
 to the absent John, and = " Take my son to England." St. takes it to be 
 an apostrophe to her hair. Fl. explains it : " Say this fine speech about 
 faithful love, etc., to England, that is, to John." Perhaps Clarke is right 
 in considering it an answer to what Philip has said in 20 above—" one 
 of those incoherent, but wanderingly-connected speeches which persons 
 in Constance's condition of mind (and even people who are only absent 
 of mind) will frequently make." He adds : " It appears to us that this 
 interpretation of her speech adds another point of characteristic delinea- 
 tion to the many admirable touches with which the poet has drawn a 
 mind bordering on frenzy in this powerfully affecting scene." 
 73. Envy at. Cf. Hen. VIII. v. 3. 1 12 : 
 
 " whose honesty the devil 
 And his disciples only envy at." 
 
 We find envy against in Cor. iii. 3. 95. 
 
 76. And, fat her cardinal, etc. See p. 25 above. 
 
 80. Suspire. Begin to breathe. Cf. 2 Hen. IV. iv. 5. 33 : 
 
 " By his gates of breath 
 There lies a downy feather which stirs not; 
 Did he suspire, that light and weightless down 
 Perforce must move." 
 
 81. Gracious. Full of grace, lovely; as in 96 below. Cf. T. N. i. 5. 
 281 : "A gracious person," etc. 
 
 82. Canker-sorroiv. Sorrow, like a canker-worm. See M. N. D. p. 
 150, note on Cankers. 
 
 90. You hold too heinous a respect, etc. You sin in thinking too much 
 of your grief. Cf. M. of V. i. 1. 74: " You have too much respect upon 
 the world." 
 
 91. He talks, etc Cf. Macb. iv. 3. 216 : " He has no children." 
 
 96. Remembers me. Reminds me. Cf. Temp. i. 2. 243 : " Let me re- 
 member thee what thou hast promis'd," etc. 
 
 99. Had you such loss, etc. "This is a sentiment which great sorrow 
 always dictates. Whoever cannot help himself casts his eyes on others 
 for assistance, and often mistakes their inability for coldness" (Johnson). 
 
 101. This form. Her head-dress. 
 
 106. Outrage. Outbreak of rage or madness. Cf. Rich. III. ii. 4. 64: 
 " frantic outrage," etc. See also R. and J. p. 217. 
 
 no. World's. Pope's correction of the "words" of the folios. Fl. 
 thinks that "word's" may refer to "the tedious tale of life." 
 
 in. That. So that ; as often. Cf. 151 below. Gr. 283. 
 
 115. Show. Seem, appear; as in V. and A. 1157 : "where it shows 
 most toward," etc. 
 
 L 
 
1 62 NOTES. 
 
 125. Youthful . Cf. 145 below : " How green you are," etc. 
 128. Rub. Obstacle ; a metaphor taken from the game of bowls. See 
 Rich. II. p. 197. 
 
 132. Whiles. Used by S. interchangeably with while. Gr. 137. 
 
 133. Misplaced. That is, usurping; wearing a "crown so foul mis- 
 plac'd " {Rich. III. iii. 2. 44). 
 
 135. Unruly. Unlawful. 
 
 136. Boisteroiisly. Violently. See on iv. 1. 95 below. 
 
 146. lays you plots. Lays plots for you; the "dativus ethicus." Gr. 
 220. 
 
 147. True blood. " The blood of him that has the just claim" (Johnson). 
 149. Evilly. Used again in T. of A. iv. 3. 467. For born the 1st and 
 
 2d folios have " borne," which Clarke thinks may possibly be right 
 {= conducted). 
 
 153. Exhalation. Meteor. Cf. 1 Hen. IV. ii. 4. 352: "My lord, do 
 you see these meteors ? do you behold these exhalations ?" See also 
 Hen. VIII. iii. 2. 226 and J. C. ii. 1. 44. 
 
 154. Scope. Free play, operation. Pope changed the word to " scape " 
 — "preposterously," according to Schmidt, who explains no scope of Mat- 
 ure as " no effect produced within the regular limits of nature." K., the 
 Camb. ed., Clarke, Fl., and others retain scope ; D., W., and H. adopt 
 " scape." The latter is obviously wrong, as it could refer only to a prod- 
 igy or something out of the ordinary course of nature; while the context 
 enumerates only common and customed phenomena, which the people 
 imagine to be prodigies and signs. 
 
 155. Customed. Not " 'customed," as sometimes printed. The word 
 occurs again in 2 Hen. VI. v. I. 188 : "customed right." 
 
 158. Abortives. Monstrosities ; the only instance of the noun in S. 
 161. In his prisonment. In keeping him in prison. 
 
 166. Unacquainted. Cf. v. 2. 32 below : " unacquainted colours." 
 
 167. Strong matter of Good cause of, powerful reasons for. 
 
 169. Hurly. Tumult, commotion. Cf. T. ofS. iv. I. 206 : "amid this 
 hurly," etc. 
 
 174. Call. That is, a bird-call, the reed or pipe used in catching birds. 
 
 176. As a little snow, etc. " Bacon, in his Hist, of Hen. VII, speaking 
 of SimnePs march, observes that ' their snow-ball did not gather as it 
 went' " (Johnson). 
 
 179, 180. The folios put commas at the end of both lines. Fl. follows 
 Rowe in putting a period after discontent, and a comma after offence. 
 
 182. Strong actions. The reading of the later folios ; the 1st folio has 
 " strange actions," which may be what S. wrote. 
 
 ACT IV. 
 
 Scene I. — On the locality of the scene, see on i. 1. 1 above. Accord- 
 ing to history, Arthur was first confined at Falaise, and afterwards at 
 Rouen, where he died or was murdered. 
 
ACT IV. SCENE I. 
 
 163 
 
 2. Within the arras. That is, between the tapestry hangings and the 
 wall ; a common place of concealment. See M. IV. iii. 3. 97, Much Ado, 
 i. 3. 63, /£?;/,?. ii. 2. 163, iii. 3. 28, iv. I. 9, etc. 
 
 7. Uncleanly. Unbecoming. 
 
 8. 7# jay with. To speak with. 
 
 15. As sad as night, etc. An allusion to one of the affectations of the 
 clay. Steevens quotes Lyly, Midas, 1592 : "Melancholy! is melancholy 
 a word for a barber's mouth ? Thou shouldst say heavy, dull, and dolt- 
 ish ; melancholy is the crest of courtiers, and now every base companion, 
 &c. says he is melancholy ;" and The Life and Death of the Lord Crom- 
 well \ 16 13 : 
 
 "My nobility is wonderful melancholy. — 
 Is it not most gentleman-like to be melancholy?" 
 
 16. Christendom. "Christianity" (Schmidt) ; "christening or baptism" 
 (Clarke). In A. IV. i. 1. 188, it is=Christian name, or baptismal name, 
 llalliwell quotes Taylor, Workes, 1630: 
 
 " A halfe piece, or a crowne, or such a summe, 
 Hath forc'd them falsifie their Christendome." 
 
 19. Doubt. Suspect, fear ; as in iv. 2. 102 and v. 6. 44 below. See 
 also Ham. pp. 187, 202. 
 
 20. Practises. Plots. See A. V. L. p. 140. Cf. the noun in iv. 3. 63 
 below. 
 
 25. Prate. Prattle. 
 
 33. Rheum. Tears. See on iii. 1. 22 above. 
 
 34. Dispiteous. Pitiless ; used by S. only here. 
 
 38. Effect. Import, meaning. Malone conjectured "a fact." 
 42. Handkercher. The spelling of the folios, as in most other places. 
 See A. V. L. p. 190. 
 
 47. Still and anon. Ever and anon. For still = ever, see Gr. 69. 
 
 49. Love. Act of love, kindness ; as in Per. ii. 4. 49 : "But if I can- 
 not win you to this love," etc. 
 
 50. Lieu. The folio has "lyen." In Ham. v. 1. 190, the quartos have 
 "lien," the folios "lain." 
 
 52. At your sick service. To attend you when sick. 
 
 61. Heat. Elsewhere in S. the participle is heated. Cf. waft in ii. 1. 73 
 above. Gr. 342. Heat is found in Dan. iii. 19, in the ed. of 161 1. 
 
 63. His. CapelPs emendation of the " this " of the folios. The latter, 
 which Clarke and Fl. retain, may be right after all. 
 
 70. The folio reads : " I would not haue beleeu'd him : no tongue but 
 Huberts.' 1 '' Pope gave " believ"d a tongue but Hubert's." K. adopts Stee- 
 vens's conjecture: "believ'd him : no tongue but Hubert's — " (the sen- 
 tence being left imperfect). Steevens afterwards suggested " I would not 
 have believ'd no tongue but Hubert's ;" which is on the whole the best 
 emendation, if any is needed. 
 
 78. Heaven sake. Cf. T. JV. iii. 4. 326 : " oath sake ;" see our ed. p. 155. 
 
 82. Angerly. The word occurs also in T. G. of V. i. 2. 62 and Macb. 
 iii. 5. 1. S. does not use angrily. 
 
 92. Mote. The folios have "moth," which was pronounced mote. See 
 A. V. L. p. 179, note on Goats; and cf. Much Ado, p. 136, note on A T othing. 
 
164. NOTES. 
 
 95. Boisterous. The word (formerly = intractable, violent) has come 
 to be restricted to "loud weather" (W. T iii. 3. 11) and like noisy dem- 
 onstrations. We can no longer use it as in V. and A. 326 : "his boister- 
 ous and unruly beast" (horse) ; or as in A. Y. L. ii. 3. 32 : "a base and 
 boisterous sword," etc. 
 
 106. The fire is dead, etc. "The fire, being created not to hurt, but to 
 comfort, is dead •with grief for finding itself used in acts of cruelty, which, 
 being innocent, I have not deserved"' 1 (Johnson). On extremes, cf. v. 7. 13 
 below : "fierce extremes." 
 
 117. Tarre him on. Set him on, urge him on. See Ham. p. 207. 
 
 121. Of note. Notorious, distinguished. 
 
 122. Eye. The folio reading ; changed by Steevens to "eyes." 
 
 123. Ozves. Owns. See on ii. 1. 109 above. 
 
 125. This same very iron. Cf. Rich. III. iii. 2. 49 : "this same very 
 day," etc. 
 
 130. Doubtless and secure. Free from fear and confident. Cf. I Hen. 
 IV. iii. 2. 20 : " I am doubtless I can purge Myself," etc. On secure, cf. 
 Ham. p. 196. 
 
 133. Closely. Secretly; as in Ham. iii. 1. 29, R. and J. v. 3. 255, etc. 
 Cf. close in iv. 2. 72 below. 
 
 Scene II. — 1. Once again crcmni'd. This was the fourth time that 
 John was crowned. The second coronation was at Canterbury in the 
 year 1201. He was crowned again at the same place, after the murder 
 of his nephew, in April, 1202; probably with a view of confirming his 
 title to the throne, his competitor no longer standing in the way (Malone). 
 4. Once superfluous. That is, once too many. 
 
 10. Guard. Ornament, as with trimmings. Cf. M. of V. ii. 2. 164 : 
 
 " Give him a livery 
 More guarded than his fellows'; see it done;" 
 
 Hen. VIII. prol. 16 : "In a long motley coat guarded with yellow," etc. 
 See also Much Ado, p. 124. 
 
 18. An ancient tale new-told. Cf. iii. 4. 108 above : "as tedious as a 
 twice-told tale." 
 
 21. Antique. The regular accent in S. See A. Y. L. p. 152 or Macb. 
 p. 234. 
 
 24. To fetch about. To "come about," as the nautical term now is; 
 to veer round. 
 
 29. Covetousuess. Eagerness. Cot found— destroy, ruin ; as in v. 7. 
 58 below. 
 
 38. Since all, etc. That is, since we make our preferences yield in all 
 cases to your will. 
 
 41. Possessed you with. Informed you of. Cf. M. of V. i. 3. 65, iv. 1. 
 35, Cor. ii. 1. 145, etc. 
 
 42. When lesser, etc. The folio has " then lesser," etc. When is Tyr- 
 whitt's conjecture, and is adopted by D., K., St., Clarke, Fl., and others. 
 Pope has "the lesser," and W. "than lesser." The Coll. MS. gives 
 "thus lessening my fear." For more, .more strong, cf. Cor. iv. 6. 63 and 
 Lear, v. 3. 202. 
 
ACT IV. SCENE II. 165 
 
 43. Indue. Supply, furnish. 
 
 48 7<? tt?««^. To give .«?«//</ or utterance to. Cf. Rich. II. in. 4- 74 ■ 
 " How dares thy harsh rude tongue sound this unpleasmg news ?' _ 
 
 So Myself and them. The grammatical error is probably due in part 
 to the occurrence of the same combination in the preceding line, and in 
 part to the more frequent association of them than they with myself. 
 
 ^ In rest. Either=in possession, as Clarke explains it; or in re- 
 pose] in peace, as Schmidt and Fl. give it. Possibly both ideas are com- 
 
 c6 ' Why then, etc. Pope transposed then and should, to give the ques- 
 tion the ordinary direct form ; but the question may be considered as in- 
 direct, or perhaps as a confusion of the two constructions. 
 
 in. Mew up. Shut up. See M. A". D. p. 126. 
 
 64. Goods. Abstract nouns are often thus used in the plural. See 
 Macb. p. 209 (note on Loves), Rich. II. p. 206 (on Sights), or W. T. p. 167 
 
 ( °6q. "should do. Who was to do. For the ellipsis of the relative, see 
 Gr. 244; andfor^M//</=:was to, Gr. 324. 
 
 72. Close aspect. Reserved, secretive look. For the accent of aspect, 
 see on ii. 1. 250 above. . . . 
 
 77. Between his purpose. That is, showing a conflict in his mind be- 
 tween his purpose of killing Arthur and his conscience. Cf. 247 belovv. 
 
 78. Set. Appointed, posted (Schmidt). Theo. changed the word to 
 " sent." Mr. Arrowsmith would refer set to battles, but that is hardly ad- 
 missible. , •, • , 1 ST 1 
 
 "It is worthy of notice how in this speech, and in the beautiful one 
 commencing with 9 above, Salisbury maintains that characteristic refine- 
 ment and poetry of diction which distinguish him in contrast with Pem- 
 broke" (Clarke). 
 
 89. Here or hence. See on v. 4. 29 below. 
 
 q-x Foul play. Fl. joins the words with a hyphen, on account ot the 
 accent ; so " fair-play " in v. 1. 67 and v. 2. 1 18 below. Apparent=evi- 
 dent, obvious ; as often. Cf. M.for M iv. 2. 144 = 
 
 "Duke. It is now apparent? , . , , , . ir „ 
 
 " Provost. Most manifest, and not denied by nimseli. 
 
 See also Rich. II. p. 150. .. 
 
 99. Owed. Was the right owner of. See on 11. 1. 109 above, and ct. 
 
 iv. 1. 123. , . 
 
 100. Foot. For the plural, cf. pound 111 1. 1. 69 above. _ 
 #^ 7cwA/ the while ! A bad world nowadays ! Cf. I Hen. IV. n. 4- 
 
 146: "God help the while! a bad world, I say;" and Rich. Ill 111. o. 
 10 : " Here 's a good world the while !" 
 
 102. Doubt. Suspect, fear; as in iv. 1. 19 above. 
 
 106. Fearful. Full of fear; as in 191 below. Cf. J. C. p. 175- Un 
 the passage, cf. Macb. v. 3. 11, 14. .-,,/; 
 
 no From France to England. "The king asks how all goes in 
 France ; the messenger catches the word goes, and answers that whatever 
 is in France goes now into England''' (Johnson). 
 
 116. O, where, etc. Cf. Macb. i. 7. 35 : 
 
1 66 NOTES. 
 
 " Was the hope drunk 
 Wherein you dress'd yourself? hath it slept since?" 
 
 117. Care. In the 1st folio the first letter of the word is broken, and 
 may be either an e or a c ; the later folios have "care." Some editors 
 read " ear " on account of the ear in the answer ; but, as Clarke remarks, 
 that word is sufficiently suggested by the king's '■''hear of it," and care 
 accords better with the preceding intelligence. 
 
 118. Drawn. Drawn together, levied ; as in v. 2. 113 below. 
 
 120. Constance died in 1201 at Nantes (see p. 21 above) ; Elinor in 
 1204 (Mrs. Jameson and some other authorities say 1203) at Fontevreaux. 
 
 124. Idly. Incidentally, casually ; explained by the context. 
 
 125. Occasion. Fortune ; as in Ha?n. i. 3. 54 : "Occasion smiles upon 
 a second leave," etc. The word is a quadrisyllable here ; a metrical li- 
 cense very common in this play. Cf. preparation in in above, and see 
 173, 184, 191, and 218 below. 
 
 128. Walks. Goes. As Schmidt remarks, the verb is "much oftener 
 used in S. than in modern language = to go, move, and even = come." 
 
 135. Afeard. Used by S. interchangeably with afraid. See M. N. D. 
 p. 156 or Macb. p. 163. 
 
 137. Amaz\i. Confused, bewildered; as in ii. 1. 356 above. 
 
 139. Aloft. The only instance of the prepositional use in S. 
 
 141. Sped. Fared, succeeded. Cf. M. W. ii. 2. 278, iii. 5. 137. 
 
 144. Strangely fantasied. Filled with strange fancies ; the only in- 
 stance of fantasied in S. 
 
 148. Pomfret. A town in the West Riding of Yorkshire. See Rich. 
 II. p. 208. 
 
 In the old play there is a scene between the prophet and the people, 
 and another of the Bastard plundering the abbeys, both of them poor 
 and coarse, and judiciously omitted by S. See pp. 11 and 12 above. 
 
 158. Safety. Safe keeping, custody ; as in R. and J. v. 3. 183 : " Hold 
 him in safety." 
 
 This prophet, "Peter of Pomfret," although his prediction was fulfilled 
 (see v. 1. 25 below), did not escape the penalty pronounced by the king, 
 but after being dragged through the streets by horses was hanged upon 
 a gibbet (Douce). 
 
 165. Whom. For the "confusion of construction" (Gr. 410), cf. Te?np. 
 iii. 3.92 : "Young Ferdinand whom they suppose is drown'd ;" Cor. iv. 
 2. 2 : " The nobility are vex'd, whom we see have sided," etc. 
 
 177. Sprighlful. Full of spirit. It is used by S. only here, but we 
 have sprightfdly in a similar sense in Rich. II. i. 3. 3. 
 
 182. Five moons. This phenomenon is mentioned by some of the 
 chroniclers and also in the old play, where the five moons appear visibly 
 and the Bastard says : 
 
 " See, my lord, strange apparitions. 
 Glauncing mine eye to see the diadem 
 Plac'd by the bishops on your highness head, 
 Forth from a gloomy cloud, which, curtain-like, 
 Display' d itself, I suddenly espied 
 Five moons reflecting, as you see them now,'' etc. 
 
 To-night— last night ; as often. See R. and J. p. 155. 
 
ACT IV. SCENE II. 167 
 
 185. Beldams. Old women, hags; a curious corruption (or ironical 
 use?) of the Fr. belle dame, fair lady. Cf. Macb. iii. 5. 2 : "beldams as 
 vou are," etc. Spenser uses the word in its original sense ; as in F. Q. 
 iii. 2. 43 : " Beldame, your words doe worke me Title ease," etc. 
 
 198. Contrary feet. The mutations of fashion are well illustrated by 
 the fact that this passage perplexed the commentators of the last centu- 
 ry. Johnson says : " Shakespeare seems to have confounded the man's 
 shoes with his gloves. He that is frighted or hurried may put his hand 
 into the wrong glove, but either shoe will equally admit either foot." 
 Farmer, Steevens, and Malone fill a page of the Var. of 1821 to show 
 that in earlier times shoes were made " rights and lefts." Thus Scot, in 
 his Discoverie of Witchcraft, says : " He that receiveth a mischance, will 
 consider, whether he put not on his shirt wrongside outwards, or his left 
 shoe on his right foot," etc. Boswell remarks : " What has called forth 
 the antiquarian knowledge of so many learned commentators is again 
 become the common practice at this day." . Cf. T. G.ofV. ii. 3. 16 : " this 
 left shoe." 
 
 Contrary is commonly accented by S. on the first syllable ; but on the 
 second, as here, in T. of A. iv. 3. 144 and Ham. iii. 2. 221. Cf. IV. T. p. 
 208. 
 
 199. A many. Cf. Hen. V. iii. 7. 79 : " you bear a many superfluously ;" 
 and see our ed. p. 170. 
 
 200. Embattailed. Embattled ; the spelling of the early eds., to be 
 preserved here, as the word is a quadrisyllable. Cf. Hen. V. iv. ii. 14 : 
 " The English are embattled, you French peers," etc. 
 
 207. No had. Changed by Rowe to " Had none," and by K. to 
 " None had ;" but the idiom is found elsewhere. Arrowsmith (N. and 
 Q. i. 7. p. 521) cites Dekker, Fortunatus : "No does?" Foxe, Martyrs: 
 " No did ?" etc. Fl. adds Lodge, Marius and Sylla, iv. 1 : "No relent ?" 
 and St. gives an example of No had from a letter of Sir Thomas More. 
 
 214. More upon humour, etc. More on account of mere caprice than 
 from deliberate consideration. For upon cf. ii. 1. 597 above: "upon 
 commodity ;" and see Gr. 191. For advised, see M. of V. p. 130 or Rich. 
 II. p. 165 ; and for respect, on iii. 4. 90 above. 
 
 220. Make deeds ill done. Capell transposed deeds and ill, and is fol- 
 lowed by K., Clarke, and some other editors. Theo. changed make to 
 " makes ;" but the plural is to be explained by the proximity of deeds. 
 Cf. iii. I. 295 above. Gr. 412. 
 
 Hadst is apparently a dissyllable here. Capell prints " Hadest ;" 
 Pope has " for hadst." 
 
 222. Quoted. Noted, set down ; as in A. W. v. 3. 205 ; " He 's quoted 
 for a most perfidious slave," etc. 
 
 224. Aspect. For the accent, see on 72 above. 
 
 226. Liable. Suitable, fit ; as in L. L. L. v. 1. 97 : " The posterior of 
 the day, most generous sir, is liable, congruent, and measurable for the 
 afternoon : the word is well culled," etc. 
 
 227. Broke with thee. Cf. Much Ado, i. 1. 311 : "I will break with 
 her " (see also 328) ; Id. i. 2. 16 : " break with you of it," etc. In Id. ii. 
 1. 162 and iii. 2. 76, we find "break with him about" etc. 
 
1 68 NOTES. 
 
 229. Made it no conscience. Had no scruples. Cf. Hen. VIII. v. 3. 6j : 
 
 " That I shall clear myself, 
 Lay all the weight ye can upon my patience, 
 I make as little doubt as you do conscience 
 In doing daily wrongs." 
 
 231. Hadst thou, etc. Johnson observes: "There are many touches 
 of nature in this conference of John with Hubert. A man engaged in 
 wickedness would keep the profit to himself, and transfer the guilt to his 
 accomplice. These reproaches, vented against Hubert, are not the words 
 of art or policy, but the eruptions of a mind swelling with consciousness 
 of a crime, and desirous of discharging its misery on another. This ac- 
 count of the timidity of guilt is drawn ab ipsis recessions mentis, from the 
 intimate knowledge of mankind, particularly that line in which he says 
 that to have bid him tell his tale in express words would have struck him 
 dumb ; nothing is more certain than that bad men use all the arts of fal- 
 lacy upon themselves, palliate their actions to their own minds by gentle 
 terms, and hide themselves from their own detection in ambiguities and 
 subterfuges." 
 
 234. As bid. That is, as if to bid or prompt. Pope changed As to 
 "Or," and Malone to "And." Cf. Gr. 107. 
 
 245. Fleshly. Corporeal ; used by S. only here. On the passage, cf. 
 
 J-C. ii. 1. 63: U4l tt . 
 
 J the state of man, 
 
 Like to a little kingdom, suffers then 
 
 The nature of an insurrection ;" 
 
 and see also 2 Hen. IV. iv. 3. 118, T. and C. ii. 3. 185, and Macb. i. 3. 140. 
 255. Motion. Impulse ; as in J. C. ii. 1. 64 : 
 
 " Between the acting of a dreadful thing 
 And the first motion," etc. 
 
 See also i. 1. 212 above. 
 
 264. Feature. For the singular, cf. ii. I. 126 above. 
 
 265. Foul imaginary eyes of blood. " The sanguinary eyes of my imag- 
 ination" (Schmidt). 
 
 268. Expedient. Expeditious, swift ; as in ii. 1. 60, 223 above. 
 
 269. Co7ijure. S. accents the word on either syllable without regard 
 to the meaning. See M. A r . D. p. 164. 
 
 The old play is divided into two parts, the first of which ends with the 
 king's sending Hubert on this errand; the second begins with '■'•Enter 
 Arthur," etc., as in the next scene. 
 
 Scene III. — 3. There 'j. Cf. Cymb. iv. 2. 371 : "There is no more 
 such masters," etc. Gr. 335. 
 
 10. Heaven take my soul, etc. S. here follows the old play. The fate 
 of Arthur is not certainly known. Matthew Paris, relating the event, 
 uses the word evanuit (he disappeared) ; and the business was doubtless 
 managed with great secrecy. The French historians say that John, com- 
 ing in a boat at night to the castle of Rouen, where Arthur was confined, 
 ordered him to be brought forth, and having stabbed him, fastened a 
 stone to the dead body and threw it into the Seine, in order to give some 
 
ACT IV. SCENE III. 169 
 
 colour to the report, which he afterwards caused to be spread, that the 
 prince, attempting to escape by a window, fell into the river and was 
 drowned (M alone). 
 
 11. Saint Edmundsbury. See on v. 4. 18 below. 
 
 16. Private with me. 'That is, private or personal communication to 
 me. For with me the Coll. MS. gives " missive," and Spedding conject- 
 ures " witness." 
 
 20. Or ere. A reduplication, the or being=before. Cf. v. 6. 44 below, 
 and see Temp. p. 112. 
 
 21. Distemper d. Disaffected. See Ham. p. 229. 
 
 24. Thin. The Coll. MS. gives "sin ;" but, as Clarke remarks, thin 
 "exactly agrees with the metaphor implied in tine." 
 
 29. Griefs. Grievances ; as in J. C. i. 3. 118, iv. 2. 42, etc. Reasou= 
 speak ; as in M. of V. ii. 8. 27 : "I reason'd with a Frenchman yester- 
 day," etc. 
 
 34. What is he lies here? That is, he who lies. For the ellipsis, see 
 Gr. 244. 
 
 41. Have yon, etc. The 1st and 2d folios have "You have," which 
 Fl. retains. 
 
 44. That. Changed by Pope to " What." 
 
 48. Savagery. Atrocity. In Hen. V. v. 2. 47 ("deracinate such sav- 
 agery") it is=wild growth. 
 
 49. Wall-eyed. " Fierce-eyed" (Schmidt) ; perhaps simply=with per- 
 verted or unnatural vision. See Wb. s. v. 
 
 50. Remorse. Pity ; as in no below and ii. I. 478 above. 
 
 54. Sin of times. That is, of the times, of the age. Some editors 
 adopt Pope's "sins of time." 
 
 56. Exampled by. Cf. T and C. I. 3. 132 : 
 
 " so every step, 
 Exampled by the first pace," etc. 
 
 63. Practice. Plotting. See on iv. 1. 20 above, or A. Y. L. p. 156. 
 
 64. Whose. Of whom ; the " objective genitive." 
 
 71. Head. Farmer's emendation of the " hand " of the folios. Fl. re- 
 tains "hand," because in the early Christian iconography a hand was 
 sometimes surrounded by a nimbus. Clarke thinks that "the vow to 
 dedicate his own hand to the service of winning glory by attaining ven- 
 geance, and giving it the honour or worship of having fulfilled a so- 
 esteemed sacred duty, is perfectly consistent with one of the practices 
 of chivalrous times ;" but this explanation seems a little forced. 
 
 Giving it the worship of revenge=" ennobling it by revenge " (Schmidt). 
 
 79. Your sword is bright, etc. Cf. Oth. i. 2. 59 : " Keep up your bright 
 swords, for the dew will rust them." Here, as there, the expression is 
 contemptuous. 
 
 84. True. Rightful, just. 
 
 87. Dunghill. For the personal use, cf. Lear, iv. 6. 249 : " Out, dung- 
 hill !" 
 
 91. Yet. As yet, up to this time. For its use before a negative, see 
 R. and J. p. 165, or Gr. 76. 
 
r yo NOTES. 
 
 94. Stand by. Stand back; as in Much Ado, iv. 1. 24, 7! tf/"^. i. 2. 
 143, etc. 
 
 95. Thou wert better. It were better for thee. So "you were best ;" 
 as in M. of V. ii. 8. 33, etc. See Gr. 352. 
 
 97. Spleen. See on ii. 1. 68 above. 
 
 99. Toasting-iron. Contemptuous for sword. Cf. Hen. V. ii. 1.9: "I 
 will wink and hold out mine iron : ... it will toast cheese," etc. Stee- 
 vens cites Fletcher, Woman 's Prize: "dart ladles, toasting-irons," etc. 
 
 104. Hour. A dissyllable, as often. Gr. 480. 
 
 108. Rheum. See on iii. 1. 22 above. 
 
 109. Traded. "Professional" (Schmidt). Traded in it= expert in 
 it, as if it were his trade. Cf. T. and C. ii. 2. 64 : " Two traded pilots," 
 etc. 
 
 no. Remorse. See on 50 above. 
 
 1 16. Here \r a good world ! \xo\\\C2L\=bad zuorldthe while! in iv. 2. 100 
 above. 
 
 121. Damtfd as black. St. remarks: " S. had here probably in his 
 mind the old religious plays of Coventry, some of which in his boyhood 
 he might have seen, wherein the damned souls had their faces black- 
 ened." Sharp, in his account of these performances, says that there were 
 uniformly three white and three black souls. He quotes the following 
 ancient bill in this connection : 
 
 " Itm payd to iij whyte sollys vs 
 
 Itm payd to iij blake sollys vs 
 
 Itm for makyng and mendynge of the blakke soules hose yjd 
 p'd for blakyng the sollys fassys — " 
 
 126. Do but despair. Do nothing but despair, only despair. 
 
 133. Up. Used intensively, as often by S. See A. Y. L. p. 155. 
 
 137. Embounded. Bounded, enclosed ; used by S. only here. For the 
 prefix en-, see Gr. 440. 
 
 140. Amaz'd. See on iv. 2. 137 above. 
 
 142. Easy. Easily; as very often. Cf. Sonn. 109. 3, M. N. D. v. 1. 
 22, Macb. ii. 3. 143, v. 8. 9, etc. 
 
 146. Scamble. Scramble, struggle. See Hen. V. p. 144 or Much Ado, 
 p. 164. 
 
 147. Unowed. Unowned, or without rightful owner. Cf. owe in ii. r. 
 109 above. " In this hour of ripened moral perception, the speaker suf- 
 fers himself to confess that the only rightful possessor of England is gone, 
 and that John is but possessor by tenure of usurpation and wrong ; nev- 
 ertheless, Philip's sense of fidelity and personal gratitude to the present 
 occupier of the throne will not let him abandon him or his cause, es- 
 pecially now that they are in jeopardy and peril " (Clarke). 
 
 151. From ho?ne. Away from home, abroad. 
 
 152. Waits. Clarke says that the on of the next line is "understood" 
 with waits ; but this is not absolutely necessary. The verb may be tran- 
 sitive (as in L. L. L. v. 2. 63, etc.), and the on may be inserted for the 
 measure or on account of the omission of the verb. 
 
 On the passage, cf. J. C. v. 1. 85 fol. 
 
 154. Wrested. Wrested from its rightful owner, usurped. Schmidt 
 
ACT V. SCENE I. 
 
 171 
 
 thinks it may be a misprint for "wretched;" and the Camb. ed. gives 
 the anonymous conjecture "wasted." 
 
 155. Cincture. Girdle; Pope's correction of the "center" of the folios. 
 Clarke suggests that the latter may have been in familiar use as a cor- 
 ruption of the Fr. ceinture. 
 
 158. Businesses. S. uses the plural no less than six times. Cf. A. W. 
 i. I. 220, iii. 7. 5, iv. 3. 98, IV. T. iv. 2. 15, and Lear, ii. 1. 129. 
 
 Are brief in hand— " must be speedily dispatched" (Schmidt). 
 
 ACT V. 
 
 Scene I. — 2. Circle. Diadem; as in A. and C. iii. 12. 18: "The circle 
 of the Ptolemies." Cf. round in Macb. i. 2. 59 and iv. 1. 88. 
 
 Take again. Take it again. Some make greatness and authority the 
 object, omitting the comma after pope. 
 
 6. And from his holiness, etc. And use all your power from his holi- 
 ness. Cf. Gr. 419^. 
 
 7. Inflamed. Burned up, destroyed. 
 
 8. Comities. Some take the word to be = counts, nobles (see Much 
 Ado, p. 131) ; but it may have its ordinary sense, as Schmidt explains it. 
 
 12. Mistemper'd. Distempered (see on iv. 3. 21 above), disaffected. 
 See R. and J. p. 142. 
 
 13. Qualified. Moderated, abated ; as in R. of L. 424, Ham. iv. 7. 114, 
 etc. 
 
 14. The present time 'j so sick, etc. For the metaphor, cf. Macb. v. 2. 
 27. See also v. 2. 20 below. 
 
 19. Convertite. Convert or penitent ; as in R. of L. 743 and A. Y. L. 
 v. 4. 190. 
 
 25. Is this Ascension-day ? See on p. 34 above. 
 
 27. Give off. Give up ; the only instance of the expression in S. 
 
 31. Dover Castle. Hubert de Burgh with a hundred and forty soldiers 
 defended it for four months (French). 
 
 35. Amazement. Confusion, bewilderment. Cf. the verb in iv. 2. 137 
 and iv. 3. 140 above. 
 
 54. Glister. Glisten (not used by S.). Cf. M. of V. ii. 7. 65 : " All 
 that glisters is not gold," etc. 
 
 55. Become. Adorn ; as in ii. 1. 141 above. 
 
 59. Forage. Go forth in search of prey. Cf. Hen. V. i. 2. no : 
 
 "Whiles his most mighty father on a hill 
 Stood smiling to behold his lion's whelp 
 Forage in blood of French nobility." 
 
 See also the noun in L. L. L. iv. 1. 93 : "And he [the lion] from forage 
 will incline to play." Fl. quotes Edward III. ii. 1 (Shakespeare's part) : 
 
 "The lion doth become his bloody jaws, 
 And grace his foragement by being wild, 
 When vassals fear his trembling at their feet;" 
 
 and Chapman, Bussy's Revenge: " Lions foraging for prey." 
 
172 
 
 NOTES. 
 
 60. Displeasure. Often used by S. in a stronger sense than now ; as 
 in Ahuh Ado, i. 3. 68, ii. 2. 6, Cor. iv. 5. 78, Z«zy, i. 1. 202, iii. 3. 5, etc. 
 
 66. Upon the footing of our land. Standing upon our own land. 
 
 67. Orders. Sr. adopts the " offers " of the Coll. MS. But orders, from 
 meaning orderings, arrangements, may come to be=stipulations, condi- 
 tions. Cf. v. 2. 4 below. 
 
 69. Invasive. Invading ; used by S. only here. 
 
 70. Cocker\l. Pampered ; used by S. nowhere else. For the mascu- 
 line use of wanton, cf. Rich. II. v. 3. 10 and Ham. v. 2. 310. 
 
 71. Flesh his spirit. " Taste blood for the first time " (Fl.). Cf. I Hen. 
 IV. v. 4. 133 : 
 
 "Come, brother John; full bravely hast thou flesh'd 
 Thy maiden sword ;' ' 
 
 i Hen. VI. iv. 7. 36 : " Did flesh his puny sword in Frenchmen's blood," 
 etc. See also Hen. V. p. 160 (note on Hath been flesh' d) or T. N. p. 157 
 (note on Well fleshed). 
 
 72. Mocking the air, etc. Cf. Macb. i. 2. 49 : 
 
 "Where the Norweyan banners flout the sky, 
 And fan our people cold."' 
 
 Malone remarks : " From these two passages Mr. Gray seems to have 
 formed the first stanza of his celebrated Ode : 
 
 'Ruin seize thee, ruthless king! 
 Confusion on thy banners wait! 
 Though fann'd by conquest's crimson wing, 
 They mock the air with idle state.'" 
 
 Scene II. — 2. Remembrance. A quadrisyllable; as in IV. T. iv. 4. 76: 
 " Grace and remembrance be to you both." Gr. 477. 
 
 3. Precedent. Original copy, first draught ; as in Rich. III. iii. 6. 7 : 
 "The precedent was full as long a-doing." 
 
 4. Order. Arrangement, agreement. See on v. 1. 67 above. 
 6. Sacrament. Oath ; as in Rich. II. iv. I. 328, v. 2. 97, etc. 
 13. Plaster. For the metaphor, cf. Temp. ii. 1. 139 : 
 
 "you rub the sore 
 When you should bring the plaster." 
 
 16. Metal. See on ii. 1.401 above. 
 
 26. Were. The reading of the later folios ; the 1st has " Was." 
 
 27. Stranger march. The folios have " Stranger, march," which Clarke 
 retains. Theo. made the correction. For stranger= foreign, cf. v. 1. 11 
 above. 
 
 30. Spot. The Coll. MS. has " thought," which W. adopts. " Spur " 
 and " spite " have also been suggested. 6/W=stain, disgrace (Schmidt) ; 
 as in v. 7. 107 below. Upon — ow account of; as in iv. 2. 214 and v. 1. iS 
 above. Enforced^ involuntary ; as in M of V. v. 1. 240, Rich. II. i. 3. 
 264, etc. 
 
 34. Clippeih. Embraceth. Cf. I Hen. IV. iii. I. 44: "clipp'd in with 
 the sea," etc. See also Oth. p. 192. 
 
 36. Grapple. Pope's correction of the " cripple " of the folios. Fl. 
 adopts Steevens's conjecture of "gripple," which means the same. 
 
ACT V. SCENE II. 173 
 
 39. To spend. Clarke and Fl. adopt Steevens's conjecture of "to- 
 spend," in which the to is intensive ; but it seems to be merely an in- 
 stance of the insertion of to with a second infinitive after its omission 
 with the first. Cf. i. I. 134 above: "hadst thou rather be . . . and to 
 enjoy." See Gr. 350. There is no clear example of this archaic inten- 
 sive to in S. 
 
 42. Doth. Changed by Hanmer to "Do;" but it may be the old 3d 
 person plural in -th. See R. and J. p. 140, and cf. Gr. 334. 
 
 44. " Compulsion is here used in reference to what Salisbury has just 
 before called this enforced cause ; that is, the cause to which he felt him- 
 self compelled by the infection of the time. Brave respect is used for noble 
 consideration, patriotic regard" (Clarke). Cf. iii. 1. 58 above. 
 
 45. Dew. For the application to tears, cf. R. of L. 1829, L. L. L. iv. 
 3. 29, W. T. ii. 1. 109, and Rich. II. v. 1.9. 
 
 46. Silverly. Silver-like ; used by S. only here. The same is true of 
 the verb progress. 
 
 50. This shower, etc. Malone compares R. of L. 178S : 
 "This windy tempest, till it blow up rain, 
 Held back his sorrow's tide, to make it more." 
 
 59. Full of -warm blood. The folios have " Full warm of blood," which 
 may be right, though it does not suit the rest of the line so well as the 
 transposition in the text. The latter is due to Heath, and is adopted by 
 D. and the Camb. editors. 
 
 64. An angel spake. Fl. says : " This phrase was proverbial, and usu- 
 ally involved a quibble ; as in Two Angry Women of Abiugton : 
 
 " Coomes. There speaks an angel. Is it good? 
 
 " Mrs.Gourney. Ay. 
 
 "Coomes. Then I can 't do amiss; the good angel goes with me;' 
 
 and in Eastward Ho, ii. 1 : 
 
 "Quicksilver. Security will smell out ready money for you instantly. 
 "Peironel. There spake an angel." 
 Here there may be a similar play upon the expression, referring to the 
 purse just mentioned and to the holy legate whom he sees approaching. 
 For the coin called an angel, cf. ii. I. 590 and iii. 3. 8 above. 
 
 79. Propertied. Made a property of, treated as a mere tool or instru- 
 ment. Cf. T. N. iv. 2. 99 : " they have here propertied me." Note also 
 the use of the noun in J. C. iv. 1. 40 : 
 
 " do not talk of him 
 But as a property." 
 
 89. Interest to. Claim to, interest in ; as in I Hen. IV. iii. 2. 98 : 
 
 " He hath more worthy interest to the state 
 Than thou the shadow of succession." 
 
 99. Underprop. Support, uphold. Cf. R. of L. 53 : " Which of them 
 both should underprop her fame ;" and Rich. II. ii. 2. 82 : " Here am I 
 left to underprop his land," etc. 
 
 100. Charge. Expense ; as in i. I. 49 above. 
 
 101. Liable. Allied, associated. Cf. its use^subject, in ii. 1. 490 above. 
 104. Bank\l. The most natural meaning would be " thrown up in- 
 
174 
 
 NOTES. 
 
 trenchments before " (Steevens), but the corresponding passage in the 
 old play favours the interpretation " sailed along the banks of." Schmidt 
 thinks the word is probably — the Fi. aborder, to land on the banks of. 
 St. suggests that it is a term in card-playing=put into a bank or rest, won. 
 
 105. Cards. S. here anticipates the invention of playing-cards by about 
 a century and a half. See on i. i. 24 above. 
 
 107. Set. Game, match ; as in L. L. L. v. 2. 29, Hen. V i. 2. 262, etc. 
 
 113. Dreiv this gallant head. Levied this gallant army. For drew, 
 see on iv. 2. 118 above ; and on head cf. 1 Hen. IV. i. 3. 284 : " To save 
 our heads by raising of a head ;" Id. iv. 4. 25 : "a head Of gallant war- 
 riors," etc. 
 
 115. Outlook. Outface (cf. v. 1. 49 above); the only instance of the 
 word in S. 
 
 124. Wilful- opposite. Obstinately contrary ; not hyphened in the early 
 eds. Cf. iii. 1. 254 above. 
 
 125. Temporize. Come to terms; as in T. and C. iv. 4. 6, Cor. iv. 6. 
 17, etc. 
 
 130. And reason, etc. And there is reason, etc. Cf. W. T iv. 4. 417 : 
 
 " reason my son 
 Should choose himself a wife," etc. 
 
 132. Unadvised. Inconsiderate, rash. Cf. ii. 1. 45, 191 above. Har- 
 «*jjW=wearing harness, or armour ; as in T. and C. i. 2. 8. 
 
 133. Unhair'd. The folios have "vn-heard" or "unheard;" correct- 
 ed by Theo. Unhaired= beardless. Cf. v. 1. 69 above. Hair was often 
 spelt hear or heare. Schmidt prefers utiheard (^unprecedented) ; and 
 the Coll. MS. has "unheard sauciness of." 
 
 138. Take the hatch. Leap over the hatch. See on i. 1. 170 above. 
 
 139. Concealed wells. That is, wells in out-of-the-way places. The 
 expression has troubled certain of the commentators. 
 
 144. The crying of your nation 's crow. "The sound of your nation's 
 crow ;" alluding to the crowing of the cock, which is the national bird of 
 France, and to the boastful crowing natural to Frenchmen, to which S. 
 has another allusion in Hen. V. iii. 6. 160 (Clarke). Schmidt takes crcnv 
 to be a contemptuous name for the French cock. Rowe changed your 
 to "our;" and the Coll. MS. has "cock" for crow. 
 
 145. His. The folios have " this ;" corrected by Rowe. 
 
 146. Feebled. The verb occurs again in Cor. i. 1. 199. 
 
 149. Aery. Brood. See Ham. p. 207. Tower was a term in falconry 
 for the spiral upward flight of the bird ; as souse was for its pouncing 
 upon its prey. Cf. ii. 1. 350 above ; and see Alacb. p. 203. 
 
 151. Iugrate. " Ingrateful " (v. 7. 43 below), or ungrateful ; as in T. N. 
 v. 1. 116, Cor. v. 2. 92, etc. Revolts— deserters; as in v. 4. 7 below, and 
 in Cymb. iv. 4. 6. 
 
 154. Pale-visag\i. Cf. " maid-pale " in Rich. II. iii. 3. 98. 
 
 157. Needles. The 1st and 2d folios have " Needl's," indicating the 
 metrical contraction of the word. Some editors give " neelds ;" as in R. 
 of I. 319, M. N D. iii. 2. 204, and Per. iv. pro!. 23. See M. N. D. p. 165. 
 
 159. Brave. Bravado. Cf. 1 Hen. VI. iii. 2. 123 : "Now where 's the 
 Bastard's braves, and Charles his gleeks?" 
 
ACT V. SCENE III. I7 - 
 
 162. Brabbler. Brawler. It is the name of a dog in T. and C. v 1 
 99. Cf. 6ra66le=bra.wl, in T. JV.v.i. 68, and see our ed. p. 162. 
 176. And in his forehead sits, etc. Cf. Rich. II. iii. 2. 160 : 
 
 " for within the hollow crown 
 That rounds the mortal temples of a king 
 Keeps Death his court, and there the antic sits," etc. 
 
 Scene III.— 8. Swinstead. Halliwell reads " Swineshead," which is 
 unquestionably correct; but S. copied the mistake from the old play. 
 Swineshead is in Lincolnshire, about seven miles southwest of Boston' 
 It is now a rural town, but was then a seaport. The abbey, about half a 
 mile east of the town, was founded by Robert de Greslei in 1 134. It was 
 a large and magnificent structure, but nothing is now left of it. The 
 mansion known as Swineshead Abbey stands near the site, and was built 
 with materials from the ancient abbey (Timbs). 
 
 9. Supply. Reinforcements; as in v. 5. 12 below. See also 1 Hen 
 IV. iv. 3. 3, 2 Hen. IV. i. 3. 28, etc. 
 
 11. Are. Changed by Capell to "Was ;" but supply is used as a col- 
 lective noun (cf. v. 5. 12). The relative in the intervening line takes a 
 singular verb, but this is not uncommon. See Gr. 247. For wrack'd 
 (=rwrecked ; the only spelling in the early eds.), see T. N. p. 162. 
 
 The Goodwin Sands or " the Goodwins " (M. of V. iii. 1. 4) are danger- 
 ous shoals off the eastern coast of Kent, not far from the mouth oAhe 
 Thames. Tradition says that they were once an island belonging to Earl 
 Godwin, which was swallowed up by the sea about A.D. 1100. 
 
 
 THE GOODWIN SANDS, DURING A STORM. 
 
 12. Richard. The messenger here uses the Christian name given to 
 the knight, though he has just called him Faitlconbridge. " It is as if the 
 
176 
 
 NOTES. 
 
 poet wished to show that the renownedly brave man was known famil- 
 iarly by both titles " (Clarke). 
 
 13. Retire themselves. Retreat. For the reflexive use, cf. Temp. v. 1. 
 310, W. T. iv. 4. 663, Oth. ii. 3. 386, etc. 
 
 Scene IV. — 1. Stored with. Well supplied with. Cf. Hen. V. iii. 5. 
 31 : "To new store France with bastard warriors," etc. 
 
 5. /// spite of spite. "Come the worst that may" (Schmidt). Cf. 3 
 Hen. VI. ii. 3. 5 : " And, spite of spite, needs must I rest awhile." 
 
 7. Revolts. See on v. 2. 151 above. 
 
 10. Bought and sold. Betrayed. Cf. C. of E. iii. I. 72: "It would 
 make a man mad as a buck, to be so bought and sold." See also Rich. 
 III. v. 3. 305, T. and C. ii. 1. 51, etc. 
 
 11. Unthread the rude eye. Changed by Theo. to "Untread the rude 
 way," and in the Coll. MS. to " Untread the road-way." Johnson says 
 that "the metaphor is certainly harsh," but he does not think the pas- 
 sage corrupted. Malone compares Lear, ii. I. 121 : "threading dark- 
 eyed night;" and Cor. iii. 1. 127 : "They would not thread the gates." 
 See also Rich. II. v. 5. 17 : 
 
 " It is as hard to come, as for a camel, 
 To thread the postern of a needle's eye." 
 
 Clarke says : "The metaphor has the more propriety because to thread 
 the eye of a needle is a process of some difficulty [cf. the paraphrase from 
 the Bible in the passage just quoted], while to unthread a needle's eye is, 
 on the contrary, one of the most easy of tasks : therefore the proposal to 
 unthread the rude eye of rebellion appropriately metaphorizes the intricate 
 course they have taken in forsaking the English side and revolting to the 
 French, and also the facile one they would take in withdrawing them- 
 selves from it and returning to their natural allegiance." Schmidt under 
 Eye suggests that the word here may be a misprint for " tye " (tie) ; but 
 under C/uthreadhe says : "The constant combination of the words thread 
 and eye in all these passages [the present one and those quoted above 
 from Rich. II. and Lea?-] is sufficient to refute the different emendations 
 proposed by the commentators, not excepting that attempted in this lex- 
 icon sub Eye.''' 1 For the homely character of the metaphor, Halliwell 
 compares iv. 3. 148 above : "the bare-pick'd bone of majesty," etc. 
 
 14. Lords. The Camb. editors conjecture " lord," which is favoured by 
 the he in the next line. Cf. Hen. V. iv. 4. 80 : " The French might have 
 a good prey of us if he knew of it ;" and 30 below : " I say again, if Lewis 
 do win the day," where Lewis must be the French of the present passage. 
 
 This loud day. " By the one little monosyllable loud here, how finely 
 does the poet set before our imagination the uproar of battle — the drums, 
 and tramplings, and trumpetings, and shoutings, and groanings of an en- 
 gagement !" (Clarke). 
 
 17. Aloe. More. See A. Y. L. p. 176. 
 
 18. Saint Edmundsbury. The ancient town of Bury St. Edmund's in 
 Suffolk, about 60 miles northeast of London. Portions of the abbey, in 
 which this famous meeting of the nobles took place, still remain. The 
 illustration of the altar on p. 11 1 (from Knight's Pictorial Shakspere) is 
 
ACT V. SCENE V. I77 
 
 copied from Lydgate's Life of St. Edmund (Had. MS. 2278) ; the manner 
 of taking the oath, from an illumination in the Metrical Hist, of Kick. II. 
 (Hail. MS. 13 19), representing the Earl of Northumberland at Conway 
 Castle, swearing on the gospels to secure safe conduct to Richard on his 
 journey to London ; and the costumes, from the effigies of Salisbury (in 
 Salisbury Cathedral), Pembroke (in the Temple Church, London), and 
 other contemporary monuments. 
 
 23. Quantity. A small portion; as in T. of S. iv. 3. 112: "Away, 
 thou rag, thou quantity, thou remnant ;" 2 Hen. IV. v. 1. 70 : " If I were 
 sawed into quantities, I should make four dozen of such bearded hermit's 
 staves," etc. 
 
 25. Resolveth. Dissolveth ; as in Ham. i. 2. 130: "Thaw and resolve 
 itself into a dew," etc. 
 
 27. Use. Utility, advantage. 
 
 29. Hence. In another world ; antithetical to /tere=th\s world, as in 
 iv. 2. 89 above. Cf. Ham. iii. 2. 232: "Both here and hence pursue me 
 lasting strife," etc. 
 
 37. Rated. Appraised. " It were easy to change rated to hated, for 
 an easier meaning, but rated suits better withy?//,?. The Dauphin has 
 rated your treachery, and set upon it afue, which your lives must pay" 
 (Johnson). 
 
 41. Respect. Consideration. Cf. iii. I. 318 above. 
 
 42. For that. Because that. Gr. 151 and 287. The line is taken from 
 the old play. 
 
 44. In lieu whereof. In return for which ; the only meaning of the 
 phrase in S. See A. Y. L. p. 157. 
 
 45. Rumour. Confused sounds ; as in J. C. ii. 4. 18 : "I heard a bus- 
 tling rumour, like a fray." 
 
 49. Beshrew. A mild form of imprecation. Cf. v. 5. 14 below. 
 
 50. Favour. Aspect, look. Cf. Sonu. 125. 5 :. "dwellers on form and 
 favour," etc. 
 
 52. Untread. Retrace. Cf. V. and A. 908 : " She treads the path that 
 she untreads again." See also M. of V. ii. 6. 10. 
 
 53. Bated and retired. Abating and receding. Cf. M. of V. iv. I. 72 : 
 " And bid the main flood bate his usual height." On retired, cf. Gr. 374. 
 
 54. Raukness. Exuberance, excess, overflowing. 
 
 55. CerlooJi'd. Schmidt make this=slighted, despised ; but it may be 
 = risen so high as to look over. Cf. overpeering in Ham. iv. 5. 99 : " The 
 ocean overpeering of his list." See also iii. i. 23 above: "Like a proud 
 river peering o'er his bounds." 
 
 60. Right. " In a manner deserving the name " (Schmidt) ; as in iii. 
 1. 183 above. Hanmer changed the word to " pight " (placed) and Ca- 
 pell to "fight." The Coll. MS. has "bright." 
 
 61. Happy newness, etc. " Happy innovation that purposes the resto- 
 ration of the ancient rightful government" (Johnson). 
 
 Scene V. — 3. English measure. The folio reading, changed to " th' 
 English measur'd " by Pope and some modern editors. As Fl. remarks, 
 " the meaning is general, at English measuring, not specific." 
 
 M 
 
i 7 8 
 
 NOTES. 
 
 4. Retire. See on ii. 1. 326 above. 
 
 7. Tottering. " Waving" (Fl.). Cf. The Spanish Tragedy : 
 
 " A man hanging and tottering and tottering, 
 As you know the wind will wave a man." 
 
 Schmidt makes it=hanging in rags, tattered. Cf. A?#5?ra/=tattered, in 
 1 Hen. IV. iv. 2. 37 (1st folio) : "a hundred and fiftie totter'd Prodi- 
 galls." The 1st and 2d quartos have "tottered" in Rich. II. iii. 3. 52 : 
 "this castle's totter'd battlements" ("tatter'd" in folios). If tottering — 
 tottered here, it is an instance of the active participle used for the pas- 
 sive. See Gr. 372. The Coll. MS. has " totter'd." 
 
 Clearly is either=quite, completely (cf. iii. 4. 122 above), as Fl. explains 
 it; orr=stainlessly, as Schmidt gives it. The Coll. MS. has "closely," 
 and the Camb. editors conjecture "cleanly." 
 
 13. Are. See on v. 3. 11 above. 
 
 14. Shrewd. Bad, evil. See J. C. p. 145 or Hen. VIII. p. 202. 
 
 18. The stumbling night. That is, in which one is liable to stumble. 
 Cf. v. 6. 12 below : " eyeless night " (that is, in which one cannot see). 
 
 20. Keep good quarter. " Keep your posts or watches in good order " 
 (FL). Cf. 1 Hen. VI. ii. I. 63: "Had all your quarters been as safely 
 kept." 
 
 22. Adventure. Hazard, chance. Cf. C of E. ii. 2. 218 : " At all ad- 
 ventures" (=;at all hazards), etc. 
 
 Scene VI.— 6. Perfect. Right, correct ; as in 2 Hen. IV. iii. 1. 88 : "a 
 perfect guess," etc. 
 
 12. Eyeless. See on v. 5. 18 above. Fl. thinks it is=starless, "the 
 stars being the night's eyes, as the sun is the day's." The 1st folio has 
 "endles," the later folios "endlesse" or "endless ;" corrected by Theo. 
 Schmidt explains "endless" as "infinite, excessive, that is, extremely 
 dark." 
 
 15. Scape. Not " 'scape," as usually printed. See Ham. p. 188 or 
 Wb. s. v. 
 
 16. Sans. Without. See A. V. I. p. 163. 
 
 17. Broiv of night. "As we say, in the face of day" (Fl.). 
 
 22. Swoon. Spelt " swound " in the first three folios. Cf. R. of. L. 
 i486, where it rhymes with wounds. Elsewhere in the early eds. we find 
 "swoond," "swoon," " svvoun," "swown," and "sound." 
 
 24. Broke out. Forced my way (Schmidt). 
 
 26. The better arm you, etc. " The better prepare yourself to encoun- 
 ter the sudden change that will take place in affairs after the king's death" 
 (Clarke). 
 
 27. At leisure. That is, less promptly, or at other people's leisure. 
 
 28. Taste. It was the custom for kings to have their food tasted before 
 it was served, as a precaution against poison. See Rich. II. p. 220, note 
 on Taste of it first. Halliwell quotes Deloney, Strange Histories, 1607 : 
 
 " For why, the monke the taste before him tooke, 
 Nor saw the king how ill it made him looke ; 
 And therefore he a hearty draught did take, 
 Which of his royal life dispatch did make." 
 
ACT V. SCENE VII. I79 
 
 29. Resolved. Resolute, determined. Cf. Rich. III. i. 3.340: " Huw 
 now, my hardy, stout, resolved mates ?" 
 
 Malone remarks: "Not one of the historians who wrote within sixty 
 years after the death of King John mentions this very improbable story. 
 The tale is, that a monk, to revenge himself on the king for a saying at 
 which he took offence, poisoned a cup of ale, and having brought it to his 
 majesty, drank some of it himself to induce the king to taste it, and soon 
 afterwards expired. Thomas Wykes is the first who relates it, in his 
 Chronicle, as a report" 
 
 32. Who. For whom, as often. Gr. 274. 
 
 39. Power. Force. See on iii. 3. 70 above. 
 
 40. Taken by the tide. On the 14th of October, 1216, as the king was 
 attempting to ford the Wash at low water, and had already got across 
 himself, with the greater part of his army, the return of the tide suddenlv 
 swept away the carriages and horses that conveyed all his baggage and 
 treasures ; and the spot is still known as " King's Corner." It was on 
 the same night that the king arrived at the Cistercian monastery at 
 Swineshead, and was taken with the fever of which he died. 
 
 44. Doubt. Fear. See on iv. 1. 19 above ; and for or ere, on iv. 3. 20. 
 
 Scene VII. — 1. Prince Henry. The prince was only nine years old 
 when his father died. 
 
 2. Corruptibly. So as to be corrupted ; used by S. only here. For 
 pure W. reads "poor," but the folio has "pure," not "pore" as he as- 
 sumes. H alii well cites Deloney's account of John's death in his Strange 
 Histories: "Distempering then the pure unspotted braine." 
 
 10. Orchard. Garden. See J. C. p. 142. 
 
 John did not die at Swineshead (or Swinstead), as here represented. 
 On the day after he arrived there (see on v. 6. 40 above), though very 
 ill, he was conveyed in a litter to the Castle of Sleaford, and thence on 
 the 16th of October to the Castle of Newark, where he expired on the 
 18th, in the 49th year of his age and the 17th of his reign. 
 
 16. Insensible. The folio has "inuisible," which is retained by K., the 
 Camb. editors, and Fl. K. explains it as " unlooked-at, disregarded." 
 Fl. puts a comma before it, and says that death "is visibly acting while 
 preying on the body, but invisible when he attacks the mind." Neither 
 of these interpretations seems to us satisfactory, and we have little hesi- 
 tation in adopting Hanmer's emendation, as do D., St., Sr., W., H., and 
 Clarke. Steevens suQ-Q-ested "invincible," and the Coll. MS. has " un- 
 visited. 
 
 22. Who chants, etc. For the allusion to the poetic idea of the dying 
 song of the swan, see R. of L. 161 1 : 
 
 "And now this pale swan in her watery nest 
 Begins the sad dirge of her certain ending ;" 
 
 Phoenix and Turtle, 15 : " the death-divining swan ;" Oth. v. 2. 247 : 
 and M. ofV.M'x. 2.44; 
 
 " I will play the swan, 
 And die in music ;" 
 
iSo NOTES. 
 
 "Then if he lose, he makes a swan-like end, 
 Fading in music."' 
 
 26. Indigest. Indigested or shapeless mass, chaos ; the only instance 
 of the noun in S. The adjective ( — chaotic, formless) occurs in Sonn. 
 114. 5 : "monsters and things indigest." Ovid {Met. i.) describes Chaos 
 as " rudis indigestaque moles." 
 
 32. I am a scribbled form, etc. See p. 35 above. 
 
 35. Fare. Metrically a dissyllable (Gr. 480). Fl. reads "ill-faring," 
 and Daniel suggests "ill-fated." 
 
 37. To thrust his icy fingers, etc. Steevens quotes Dekker, GuVs Horn- 
 book, 1609: "the morning waxing cold, thrust his frosty fingers into thy 
 bosome ;" and The Great Frost, etc., 1608 : " The cold hand of winter is 
 thrust into our bosoms." The corresponding passage in the old play 
 
 reads thus: „™-r j- 1 ^ e ' *. c », 
 
 "Philip, some drink. O, for the frozen Alps 
 
 To tumble on, and cool this inward heat. 
 
 That rageth as a furnace seven-fold hot." 
 
 42. Cold comfort. There is a play upon the phrase, which was ironi- 
 cally used, as it still is, in the sense of small comfort. Cf. T. of S. iv. 1. 
 33 : " or shall I complain of thee to our mistress, whose hand, she being 
 now at hand, thou shalt soon feel, to thy cold comfort, for being slow in 
 thy hot office?" For the quibbling on a death-bed, cf. Rich. II. ii. I. 12> 
 fol., and see our ed. p. 172. 
 
 Strait. Niggardly, parsimonious. 
 
 43. Ingrateful. Used by S. interchangeably with ungrateful. So in- 
 certain and uncertain, infortunate (ii. I. 178 above) and unfortunate, etc. 
 
 50. Spleen. Eagerness, impetuosity. See on ii. 1. 68 above. 
 
 51. Set. That is, close. 
 
 52. Tackle. For the metaphor, cf. Cor. iv. 5. 67 : 
 
 "Thou hast a grim appearance, and thy face 
 Bears a command in 't ; though thy tackle 's torn, 
 Thou show' st a noble vessel." 
 
 58. Module. The spelling of the folio here and in A. IV. iv. 3. 114: 
 "this counterfeit module." Elsewhere it is model, which Hanmer and 
 others substitute here. The word is = image ; as in Rich. II. i. 2. 28 : 
 
 "In that thou seest thy wretched brother die, 
 Who was the model of thy father's life ;" 
 
 Hen. VIII. iv. 2. 132 : "The model of our chaste loves, his young daugh- 
 ter," etc. 
 
 Confounded '= ruined ; the most common meaning in S. See Macb. p. 
 189, and cf. iv. 2. 29 above. 
 
 59. Preparing hitherward. For the ellipsis, cf. Rich. II. v. 1. 37: "pre- 
 pare thee hence for France;" and Cor. iv. 5. 140 : "Who am prepar'd 
 against your territories." 
 
 60. Heaven. Walker conjectures "God." Very likely that was the 
 original word, changed by the editors of the folio on account of the 
 statute of James against the use of the divine name on the stage. Cf. 
 iii. 1. 156 above; and see Oth. p. 11. 
 
 62. Upon. On account of, for the sake of. Cf. ii. I. 597, iv. 2. 214, 
 and v. 1. 18 above. Gr. 191. 
 
ACT V. SCENE VII. 181 
 
 63. Were in the Washes, etc This accident really happened to John 
 himself. See on v. 6. 40 above. 
 
 66. But now a king, now thus. V. remarks : " The tragic poet has 
 here brought the death of John into immediate contact with his most 
 atrocious crime, as the natural sequence and just retribution of his guilt 
 towards young Arthur. The matter-of-fact commentators complain, 
 with Mr. Courtenay {Commentaries on Shakespeare's Historieal Plays), 
 that here is a long interval'leaped over at once in which 'foreign and 
 cruel wars had raged with varied success, and one event had happened 
 of which, although it is that by which we now chiefly remember King 
 John, no notice is taken whatever. This is no other than the signature 
 of Magna Charta.' The plain answer to this is, that the poet's design 
 was not to turn the chronicle of John's reign into dramatic dialogue, 
 but to produce from the materials an historical tragedy ; for which pur- 
 pose Constance, Arthur, and the half-fictitious Faulconbridge afforded 
 more suitable materials for his imagination than Magna Charta, and the 
 political rights of Englishmen acquired under it. By the selection he 
 made he was naturally led to the exhibition of female character as in- 
 tense, as passionate, and as overflowing with feeling, and with the most 
 eloquent expression, as his own Juliet,"but with the same all-absorbing 
 affection transferred from the lover to an only child. On the other hand, 
 had he chosen the great political question for the turning-point of inter- 
 est in his drama— and if touched on at all it must have been made the 
 main and central point of the action — it would have required all the 
 poet's skill to have avoided the too literal but unpoetical truth which 
 Canning has so drolly ridiculed in his mock-German play, when one of 
 the exiled Barons informs the other that — 
 
 ' The charter of our liberties receiv'd 
 The royal signature at five o'clock, 
 When messengers were instantly dispatch'd 
 To cardinal Pandulph, and their Majesties, 
 After partaking of a cold collation, 
 Return'd to Windsor.' 
 
 "Mr. Knight's remarks on this point are exceeedingly just and elo- 
 quent: — 'The interval of fourteen years, between the death of Arthur 
 and the death of John, is annihilated. Causes and consequences, sepa- 
 rated in the proper history by long digressions and tedious episodes, are 
 brought together. The attributed murder of Arthur lost John all the in- 
 heritances of the house of Anjou, and allowed the house of Capet to tri- 
 umph in his overthrow. Out of this grew a larger ambition, and Eng- 
 land was invaded. The death of Arthur, and the events which marked 
 the last days of John, were separated in their cause and effect by time 
 only, over which "the poet leaps. It is said that a man who was on the 
 point of drowning saw, in an instant, all the events of his life in connec- 
 tion with his approaching end. So sees the poet. It is his to bring 
 the beginnings and the ends of events into that real union and depend- 
 ence, which even the philosophical historian may overlook, in tracing 
 their course. It is the poet's office to preserve a unity of action ; it is 
 the historian's to show a consistency of progress. In the chroniclers we 
 have manifold changes of fortune in the life of John, after Arthur of 
 
!8 2 NOTES. 
 
 Brittany has fallen. In Shakespeare, Arthur of Brittany is at once 
 revenged. The heart-broken mother and her boy are not the only 
 sufferers from double courses. The spirit of Constance is appeased by 
 the fall of John. The Niobe of a Gothic age, who vainly sought to 
 shield her child from as stern a destiny as that with which Apollo and 
 Artemis pursued the daughter of Tantalus, may rest in peace !' " 
 
 74. iVoza, now, you stars, etc. Addressed to the revolted nobles who 
 had returned to their allegiance. 
 
 86. Presently to leave. Immediately to give up. For presently, cf. ii. 
 1. 538 above. 
 
 99. At Worcester. John died at Newark (see on 10 above), commend- 
 ing his body and soul to God and to St. Wulfstan, the last great English 
 saint who had been canonized. His body, arrayed in royal apparel, was 
 accordingly conveyed to Worcester, where it was interred in the Cathe- 
 dral, the great church begun by Wulfstan in 1084 and dedicated to his 
 honour in 12 iS.* The tomb on which the king's effigy rests (see cut on 
 p. 131 above) is a work of the 16th century, but the effigy itself is said to 
 be the original cover of the stone coffin in which the remains of John 
 were discovered under the pavement of the choir in 1797. It is the 
 earliest sculptured representation of an English monarch that remains 
 in the country. 
 
 108. Give you thanks. Rowe's correction of the "give thanks" of the 
 folios. The Camb. editors conjecture "fain give thanks." 
 
 no. O, let us pay, etc. " As previously we have found sufficient cause 
 for lamentation, let us not waste the present time in superfluous sorrow" 
 (Steevens). Clarke paraphrases the passage thus : " Let us pay but the 
 due amount of lamentation to that woe which is past ; since time now 
 promises to put a period to our griefs by better unity among ourselves." 
 
 116- Come the three comers, etc. That is, let the rest of the world 
 come against us, and we shall withstand them. Cf. Temp. i. 2. 491 : "all 
 corners else o' the earth ;" and Cymb. iii. 4.39: "All corners of the world." 
 
 118. If England to itself do rest but true. Cf. the ending of the old play : 
 
 " Let England live but true within itself, 
 And all the world can never wrong her state. 
 ******* 
 If England's peers and people join in one, 
 Nor pope, nor Fraunce, nor Spain, can do them wrong." 
 
 See also 3 Hen. VI iv. 1. 40 : 
 
 " Why, knows not Montague that of itself 
 England is safe, if true within itself?" 
 
 Steevens cites Churchyard, Discourse of Rebellion, 1570 : 
 
 * In 1207 John visited Worcester, and after praying at the tomb of Wulfstan gave 
 three hundred marks for the repair of the Cathedral. 
 
 According to Holinshed, the king was buried at Croxton Abbey in Staffordshire ; but 
 Matthew Paris states that it was at Worcester. He says: " Et his ita gestis, sciscitatus 
 est ab eo Abbas de Croestuna si ipsum raori contingeret, ubi vellet eligere sepulturam. 
 Cui Rex respondens dixit, Deo et Sancto Wlstano corpus et animam meam commendo. 
 Qui postea in nocte quae diem Sancti Lucae Evangelistae proxime sequuta est, ex hac 
 vita migravit. Cujus corpus regio schemate ornatum ad Wigorniam delatum est ; et in 
 ecclesia Cathedrali ab Eniscopo loci honorifice tumulatum." 
 
ADDENDUM. 183 
 
 " O Britayne bloud, marke this at my desire : 
 If that you sticke together as you ought 
 This lyttle yle may set the world at nought." 
 
 Reed traces the sentiment back to Andrew Borde (who died in 1549), 
 Introd. of Knowledge : "for if they [the English] were true wythin them- 
 selves they nede not to feare although al nacions were set against them." 
 
 ADDENDUM. 
 
 Mrs. Siddons on Constance. — Mrs. Siddons left behind her in man- 
 uscript her own analysis of the character of Constance, and we extract 
 from Campbell's Life of Siddons this commentary of a great actress on 
 
 the poet : ,...., 
 
 " My idea of Constance is that of a lofty and proud spirit, associated 
 with the most exquisite feelings of maternal tenderness, which is, in 
 truth, the predominant feature of this interesting personage. The senti- 
 ments which she expresses, in the dialogue between herself, the King ot 
 France, and the Duke of Austria, at the commencement of the second 
 act of this tragedy, very strongly evince the amiable traits of a humane 
 disposition and ot a grateful heart. 
 
 ****** * * * 
 
 " The ideas one naturally adopts of her qualities and appearance are, 
 that she is noble in mind, and commanding in person and demeanour ; 
 that her countenance was capable of all the varieties of grand and ten- 
 der expression, often agonized, though never distorted by the vehemence 
 of her agitations. Her voice, too, must have been ' propertied like the 
 tuned spheres,' obedient to all the softest inflections of maternal love, to 
 all the pathos of the most exquisite sensibility, to the sudden burst of 
 heart-rending sorrow, and to the terrifying imprecations of indignant 
 majesty, when writhing under the miseries inflicted on her by her das- 
 tardly oppressors and "treacherous allies. The actress whose lot it is to 
 personate this great character should be richly endowed by nature for its 
 various requirements ; yet, even when thus fortunately gifted, much, 
 very much, remains to be effected by herself; for in the performance of 
 the part of Constance great difficulties, both mental and physical, pre- 
 sent themselves. And perhaps the greatest of the former class is that 
 of imperiously holding the mind reined in to the immediate perception 
 of those calamitous circumstances which take place during the course of 
 her sadly eventful history. The necessity for this severe abstraction will 
 sufficiently appear, when we remember that all those calamitous events 
 occur while she herself is absent from the stage; so that this power is 
 indispensable for that reason alone, were there no other to be assigned 
 for it. Because, if the representative of Constance shall ever forget, 
 even behind the scenes, those disastrous events which impel her to break 
 forth into the overwhelming effusions of wounded friendship, disappointed 
 ambition, and maternal tenderness, upon the first moment of her appear- 
 ance in the third act, when, stunned with terrible surprise, she exclaims— 
 
184 ADDENDUM. 
 
 ' Gone to be married — gone to swear a peace .' 
 False blood to false blood join'd — gone to be friends!' — 
 
 if, I say, the mind of the actress for one moment wanders from these dis- 
 tressing events, she must inevitably fall short of that high and glorious 
 colouring which is indispensable to the painting of this magnificent por- 
 trait. 
 
 " The quality of abstraction has always appeared to me so necessary 
 in the art of acting that I shall probably, in the course of these remarks, 
 be thought too frequently and pertinaciously to advert to it. I am now, 
 however, going to give a proof of its usefulness in the character under 
 our consideration ; and I wish my opinion were of sufficient weight to 
 impress the importance of this power on the minds of all candidates for 
 dramatic fame. Here, then, is one example among many others which I 
 could adduce. Whenever I was called upon to personate the character 
 of Constance, I never, from the beginning of the play to the end of my 
 part in it, once suffered my dressing-room door to be closed, in order 
 that my attention might be constantly fixed on those distressing events 
 which, by this means, I could plainly hear going on upon the stage, the 
 terrible effects of which progress were to be represented by me. More- 
 over, I never omitted to place myself, with Arthur in my hand, to hear 
 the march, when, upon the reconciliation of England and France, they 
 enter the gates of Angiers to ratify the contract of marriage between the 
 Dauphin and the Lady Blanch ; because the sickening sounds of that 
 march would usually cause the bitter tears of rage, disappointment, be- 
 trayed confidence, baffled ambition, and, above all, the agonizing feelings 
 of maternal affection, to gush into my eyes. In short, the spirit of the 
 whole drama took possession of my mind and frame, by my attention be- 
 ing incessantly riveted to the passing scenes. Thus did I avail myself 
 of every possible assistance, for there was need of all in this most ardu- 
 ous effort ; and I have no doubt that the observance of such circum- 
 stances, however irrelevant they may appear upon a cursory view, was 
 powerfully aidant in the representations of those expressions of passion 
 in the remainder of this scene, which have been only in part considered, 
 and to the conclusion of which I now proceed. 
 
 "Goaded and stung by the treachery of her faithless friends, and al- 
 most maddened by the injuries they have heaped upon her, she becomes 
 desperate and ferocious as a hunted tigress in defence of her young, and 
 it seems that existence itself must nearly issue forth with the utterance 
 of that frantic and appalling exclamation — 
 
 'A wicked day, and not a holy day. 
 What hath this day deserv'd"? what hath it done,' etc. 
 
 "When King Philip says to her — 
 
 '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?' — 
 
 what countenance, what voice, what gesture, shall realize the scorn and 
 indignation of her reply to the heartless King of France? And then the 
 awful, trembling solemnity, the utter helplessness of that soul-subduing, 
 scriptural, and prophetic invocation — 
 
ADDENDUM. ^5 
 
 'Arm, arm, you heavens, against these perjur'd kings! 
 A widow cries: be husband to me, heavens! 
 Let not the hours of this ungodly day 
 Wear out the day in peace ; but, ere sunset- 
 Set armed discord 'twixt these perjur'd kings.' 
 
 " If it ever were, or ever shall be, portrayed with its appropriate and 
 solemn energy, it must be then, and then only, when the power I have 
 so much insisted on, co-operating also with a high degree of enthusiasm, 
 shall have transfused the mind of the actress into the person and situa- 
 tion of the august and afflicted Constance. The difficulty, too, of repre- 
 senting, with tempered rage and dignified contempt, the biting sarcasm 
 of the speeches to Austria (hi. 1) may be more easily imagined than ex- 
 plained. 
 
 " But, in truth, to beget, in these whirlwinds of the soul, such temper- 
 ance as, according to the lesson of our inspired master, shall give them 
 smoothness, is a difficulty which those only can appreciate who have 
 made the effort. 
 
 " I cannot, indeed, conceive, in the whole range of dramatic character, 
 greater difficulty than that of representing this grand creature. Brought 
 before the audience in the plenitude of her afflictions ; oppression and 
 falsehood having effected their destructive mark ; the full storm of ad- 
 versity, in short, having fallen upon her in the interval of their absence 
 from her sight, the effort of pouring properly forth so much passion as 
 past events have excited in her, without any visible previous progress 
 towards her climax of desperation, seems almost to exceed the power of 
 imitation. Hers is an affliction of so ' sudden, floodgate, and o'erbearing 
 nature' that art despairs of realizing it, and the effort is almost life- 
 exhausting. Therefore, whether the majestic, the passionate, the tender 
 Constance has ever yet been, or ever will be, personated to the entire 
 satisfaction of sound judgment and fine taste, I believe to be doubtful ; 
 for I believe it to be nearly impossible. 
 
 " I now come to the concluding scene ; and I believe I shall pot be 
 thought singular when I assert that, though she has been designated the 
 ambitious Constance, she has been ambitious only for her son. It was 
 for him, and him alone, that she aspired to, and struggled for, hereditary 
 sovereignty. For example, you find that, from that fatal moment when 
 he is separated from her, not one regret for lost regal power or splen- 
 dour ever escapes from her lips ; no, not one idea does she from that 
 instant utter which does not unanswerably prove that all other consider- 
 ations are annihilated in the grievous recollections of motherly love. 
 That scene (iii. 4), I think, must determine that maternal tenderness is 
 the predominant feature of her character. 
 
 " Her gorgeous affliction, if such an expression is allowable, is of so 
 sublime and so intense a character that the personation of its grandeur, 
 with the utterance of its rapid and astonishing eloquence, almost over- 
 whelms the mind that meditates its realization, and utterly exhausts the 
 frame which endeavours to express its agitations." 
 
i ." 
 
 //" ;^--^. 
 
 
 I 
 
 '.. X. ■ r^-. 
 
 ; ' 
 
 
 ./Uf> X : 
 
 *& 
 
 
 A 
 
 Ay, marry, now my soul hath elbow-room (v. 7. 2S 
 
INDEX OF WORDS AND PHRASES 
 EXPLAINED. 
 
 a' (=he), 133. 
 
 a many, 167. 
 
 abortives, 162. 
 
 A.bsey-book, 136. 
 
 adjunct, 160. 
 
 adulterates, 153. 
 
 adventure, 178. 
 
 advice, 160. 
 
 advised, 167. 
 
 aery, 174. 
 
 afeard, 166. 
 
 affecteth, 134. 
 
 airy devils, 158. 
 
 all (intensive), 141. 
 
 aloft (preposition), 166. 
 
 amazed, 166, 170. 
 
 amazement, 171. 
 
 an angel spake, 173. 
 
 anatomy ( = Death), 160. 
 
 angel (gold coin), 151. 
 
 angerly, 163. 
 
 antique (accent), 164. 
 
 apparent, 165. 
 
 armado, 160. 
 
 arras, 163. 
 
 as, 152, i58._ 
 
 as great Alcides' shows, etc , 
 
 141. 
 aspect (accent), 145, 165, 167. 
 assured ( = affianced), 150. 
 at leisure, 178. 
 at your sick service, 163. 
 Ate, 141. 
 avveless, 138. 
 
 babe of clouts, 16 1. 
 
 bad world the while! 165. 
 
 banked, 173. 
 
 Basilisco-iike, 138. 
 
 bated, 177. 
 
 battery, 148. 
 
 be well advised, 152. 
 
 beads (=tears), 143. 
 
 become (= adorn), 171. 
 
 Bedlam, 143. 
 
 behaviour, 132. 
 
 beholding (=beholden),i3S. 
 
 beldams, 167. 
 
 I bell, book, and candle, 159. 
 beshrewj 177. 
 bestow yourself, 155. 
 bethink you, 155. 
 bias, 151. 
 bloods, 145. 
 boisterous, 164. 
 boisterously, 162. 
 bottoms (— ships), 141. 
 bought and sold, 176. 
 bounce, 149. 
 bound (^confine), 148. 
 bounden, 159. 
 brabbler, 175. 
 brave (— bravado N , 174. 
 brave (-noble), 173. 
 brief (— abstract*, 141. 
 brief in hand, 171. 
 broke out, 178. 
 broke with, 167. 
 broker, 151. 
 
 brooded (=brooding), 160. 
 brow of night, 1 78. 
 buffets, 149. 
 businesses, 171. 
 buss, 160. 
 
 but (=except'>, 153. 
 but for because, 151. 
 but new before, 155. 
 
 call (=bird-call), 162. 
 
 canker-sorrow, 161. 
 
 cankered, T44. 
 
 canonized (accent), 154, 161. 
 
 capable, 149, 152. 
 
 cards, 174. 
 
 censured (=judged^ 146. 
 
 chafed, 156. 
 
 charge (=cost), 133, 173- 
 
 Chatillon ( quadrisyllable ), 
 
 i33- 
 check, 142. 
 chiefest, 140. 
 Christendom, 163. 
 churlish drums, 158. 
 cincture, 171. 
 circle (= diadem), 171. 
 j clap a bargain up, 155. 
 
 clearly, 178. 
 climate (=sky), 147. 
 clippeth, 172. 
 close (=reserved), 165. 
 closely (=- secretly , 164. 
 cockered, 172. 
 
 Cceur-de-lion (spelling' ,133. 
 coil (=ado), 143. 
 Co'.brand, 137. 
 cold comfort, 180. 
 coldly (=calmly), 141. 
 commodity, 151, 152. 
 complete of, 148. 
 compound (= agree), 145. 
 compulsion, 173. 
 conceit, 159. 
 
 condition (--quality), 758. 
 conduct (= escort), 13- 
 confound (=ruin), 164, 1S0. 
 conjunction, 149. 
 conjure (accent), 168. 
 content, J52. 
 contrary (accent), 167. 
 control (= constraint), 132. 
 conversion, 136. 
 convertite, 171. 
 corruptibly, 179- 
 counterfeit, 153. 
 counties, 171. 
 cousin, 159. 
 covetousness, 164. 
 cracker (play upon), 143. 
 cry aim, 144. 
 cry havoc, 147. 
 crying of your nation's crow, 
 
 174. 
 customed, 162. 
 
 dam, 142 
 
 damned black, 170. 
 Dauphin (spelling) 14S. 
 dear (—grievous). 138. 
 defy (=refuse), 160. 
 departed with, 150. 
 detestable (accent), 160. 
 dew (=tears), 173. 
 differences, 147, 156. 
 diffidence (^distrust), 133- 
 
INDEX OF WORDS AND PHRASES EXPLAINED. 
 
 disallow, 132. 
 dishabited, 145. 
 dispiteous, 163. 
 displayed, 146. 
 displeasure, 172. 
 dispose (noun), 138. 
 distempered, 169. 
 divinely, 145. 
 doubt (=fear, suspect), 163, 
 
 165, 179. 
 doubtless and secure, 164. 
 drawn (=levied), 166, 174. 
 dunghill, 169. 
 dying (play upon), 164. 
 
 easy (adverb), 170. 
 
 effect (= import), 163. 
 
 eld'st, 143. 
 
 embattailed, 167. 
 
 embounded, 170. 
 
 endamagement, 145. 
 
 enforced, 172. 
 
 England ( = king of Eng- 
 land), 160. 
 
 envy at, 161. 
 
 evilly, 162. 
 
 exampled by, 169. 
 
 exclamation, 150. 
 
 excommunicate, 154. 
 
 excuse, 142. 
 
 exhalation, 162. 
 
 expedient (=rapid), 141, 145, 
 168. 
 
 eyeless (=dark), 178. 
 
 fall (=befall), 133. 
 
 fall from, 158. 
 
 fall over (= desert), 154. 
 
 fare (dissyllable), 180. 
 
 fast and loose, 156. 
 
 favour (^aspect), 177. 
 
 fear (=cause to fear), 147. 
 
 fearful (=full of fear), 165. 
 
 feature, 168. 
 
 feebled, 174. 
 
 fetch about, 164. 
 
 flesh his spirit, 172. 
 
 fleshly, 168. 
 
 fondly (= foolishly), 145. 
 
 foot (plural), 165. 
 
 for ( = because), 151. 
 
 for that, 177. 
 
 forage, 171. 
 
 force perforce, 154. 
 
 foresaid, 154. 
 
 forethought, 158. 
 
 form (—head-dress), 161. 
 
 forwearied, 145. 
 
 from (=a\vay from), 170. 
 
 fronts (—brows'), 147. 
 
 gap of breath, 16c. 
 gawds, 159. 
 
 gilt (=stained), 146. 
 give off (=give up), 171. 
 give us leave, 137. 
 glister, 171. 
 God-a-mercy, 136. 
 good den, 136. 
 goods, 165. 
 Goodwin Sands, 175. 
 gracious, 161. 
 griefs, 169. 
 
 guard ( = ornament^, 164. 
 Gurney, 137. 
 
 hadst (dissylla' le), 167. 
 
 half-faced groat, 134. 
 
 handkercher, 163. 
 
 harnessed, 174. 
 
 hatch (—half-door), 136,174. 
 
 head (=army), 174. 
 
 heat (— heated 1 , 163. 
 
 heavy-thick, 159. 
 
 hence, 177. 
 
 here or hence, 165, 177. 
 
 here 's a good world ! 170 
 
 high tides, 153, 
 
 his ( = its), 159. 
 
 holds hand with, 149. 
 
 holp, 138. 
 
 horse back, 146. 
 
 hour (dissyllable), 170. 
 
 humorous, 154. 
 
 hurly, 162. 
 
 idly (=casually), 166. 
 
 ill-tuned repetitions, 144. 
 
 imaginary eyes of blood. 168. 
 
 importance (—importunity), 
 j 40. 
 
 in lieu of, 177. 
 
 in rest, 165. 
 
 in spite of spite, 176. 
 
 indenture, 140. 
 j indifferency, 151. 
 I indigest, 1S0. 
 J indirection, 156. 
 
 indirectly, 140. 
 
 indue, 165. 
 
 infixed, 149. 
 j inflamed, 171. 
 I infortunate, 143. 
 
 ingrate, 174. 
 
 ingrateful, 180. 
 I insensible, 179. 
 i interest to, 173. 
 
 interrogatories, 154. 
 
 invasive, 172. 
 
 it (possessive), 143. 
 
 jades, 148. 
 
 Joan (=peasant girl), 136. 
 
 keep (=occupy), 159. 
 keep good quarter, 178. 
 
 kinged of, 147. 
 knit (--join), 148. 
 
 large composition, 134. 
 
 lays you plots, 162. 
 
 leave (=give up), 182. 
 
 liable (=allied), 173. 
 
 liable (=suitable), 167. 
 
 lien, 163. 
 
 lies on the hazards of, 134. 
 
 likes (=pleases), 150. 
 
 lineal, 141. 
 
 lives (pronunciation), 158. 
 
 lord of thy presence, 134, 
 
 147. 
 loud day, 176. 
 love (=act of love), 163. 
 loves (=lovers), 161. 
 lusty, 14S. 
 
 made it no conscience, 168. 
 make up ( = hurry on), 159. 
 malicious (—malignant), 146. 
 manage (noun), 133. 
 mark (.coin), 150. 
 match (play upon), 149. 
 measures, 158. 
 mettle, 148. 
 mew up, 165. 
 might (=could), 146. 
 minion ( = darling), 14S. 
 misplaced, 162. 
 mistempered, 171. 
 modern (=trite), 160. 
 module, 180. 
 moe, 176. 
 
 monster (=cuckold), 146. 
 more (= greater), 140. 
 more circumstance, 141. 
 mote (spelling), 163. 
 motion (^impulse), 137, 168. 
 mousing, 147. 
 muse (=wonder), 158. 
 murines, 147. 
 
 needles (monosyllable), 174. 
 
 no had, 167. 
 
 Nob (=Robert), 135. 
 
 occasion (=fortune), 166. 
 ocean (trisyllable), 147. 
 o'erlooked, 177. 
 of note, 164. 
 once superfluous, 164. 
 opposite, 156. 
 or ere, 169, 179. 
 orchard (=garden), 179. 
 order (=agreement), 172. 
 orders (=conditions), 172. 
 ordinance (^ordnance), 145. 
 outfaced infant state, 141. 
 outlook ( = outface), 174. 
 outrage, 161. 
 
INDEX OF WORDS AND PHRASES EXPLAINED. 189 
 
 owe (=own), 141, 145, 165. 
 
 parle, 144. 
 
 party (=part), 133, 154. 
 
 pass (=reject), 145. 
 
 passionate, 150. 
 
 pearls ( = tears), 143. 
 
 peering o'er, 152. 
 
 peevish (=foolish), 148. 
 
 peized, 151. 
 
 pell-mell, 148. 
 
 perfect (- correct), 178. 
 
 perforce, 139. 
 
 persever, 148. 
 
 Philip (^sparrow), 137. 
 
 picked (=refined), 136. 
 
 Plantagenet, 135. 
 
 plots of best advantages, 140. 
 
 policy, 148. 
 
 Pomfret, 166. 
 
 possessed you with, 164. 
 
 potents ( = potentates), 147. 
 
 pound (plural), 133. 
 
 powers (=army), 160, 179. 
 
 practice (—plotting , 169. 
 
 practises (—plots), 163. 
 
 prate, 163. 
 
 precedent, 172. 
 
 presently, 182. 
 
 prisonment, 162. 
 
 private (noun), 169. 
 
 prodigious, 152. 
 
 promotions (quadrisyllable), 
 
 149. 
 proper (= comely), 13S. 
 propertied, 173. 
 protection (quadrisyllable), 
 
 i45- 
 
 puissance (=army), 158. 
 put over (prefer), 133. 
 Pyrenean, 137. 
 
 qualified, 171. 
 quantity, 177. 
 quoted, 167. 
 
 race of night, 159. 
 
 rail on, 151. 
 
 ramping, 154. 
 
 rankness, 177. 
 
 rated, 177. 
 
 regreet, 156. 
 
 remembers me, 161. 
 
 remembrance (quadrisylla- 
 ble), 172. 
 
 remorse (=pity), 169, 170. 
 
 resolved (=resolute), 179. 
 
 resolved ( — set at rest), 147. 
 
 resolveth ( = dissolveth),i77. 
 
 respect ( = motive), 158. 
 
 respect (=regard), 159, 161, 
 173, \77- 
 
 respective, 136. 
 
 retire (noun), 145, 146, 178. 
 retire (.reflexive , 176. 
 retired (-receding), 177. 
 revolts (=deserters), 1 74, 1 76. 
 rheum (--tears), 152, 163, 
 
 170. 
 riding-rods, 135. 
 right (adverb , 177. 
 Rome (pronunciation), 155. 
 rounded ( = whispered), 151. 
 roundure, 145- 
 rub (=obstacle), 162. 
 rumour ( = noise), 177. 
 
 sacrament (=oath), 172. 
 safety (= custody* 1 , 166. 
 Saint Edmundsbury, 169, 
 
 176. 
 Saint Mary's chapel, 150. 
 sans, 178. 
 saucy, 148. 
 savagery, 169. 
 say with, 163. 
 scamble, 170. 
 scape, 17S. 
 scath (=harm), 141. 
 scope, 162. 
 scorn at, 137. 
 scroyles, 147. 
 set (= appointed*, 165. 
 set (= close), 180. 
 set (=game), 174. 
 shadow ( = reflection), 149. 
 she ( = woman), 148. 
 should (=was to), 165. 
 should (-would , 154 
 show ( — seem), 161. 
 shrewd, 178. 
 
 sightless (=unsightly), 152. 
 silverly, 173. 
 sin of times, 169. 
 slops ( = breeches\ 155. 
 smoke ( = beat*, 142. 
 so (omitted), 161. 
 so fierce a cause, 160. 
 sociable (quadrisyllable*, 161 
 soothest up, 154. 
 soul-fearing, 147. 
 sound ( = utter), 165. 
 souse, 175. 
 
 speaks plain cannon fire, 149. 
 sped, 166. 
 
 spirits (monosyllable\ 152. 
 spleen (=ardour), 141, 149, 
 
 170, 180. 
 spot ( = disgrace), 172. 
 sprightful, 166. 
 spurn against, 154. 
 stand by, 170. 
 stay (noun), 149. 
 stayed (=waited for), 141. 
 still and anon, 163. 
 stored with, 176 
 
 strait (=niggardly), 1S0. 
 
 strangely fantasied, 166. 
 
 stranger (=foreign), 172. 
 
 strong matter of, 162. 
 
 stumbling night, 178. 
 
 sufficed (= satisfied), 136. 
 
 sullen ( = sad), 133. 
 
 sunset (accent), 153. 
 
 supply, 175. 
 
 surly (=gloomy), 159. 
 
 suspire, 161. 
 
 swart ( — swarthy), 152. 
 
 swinged, 146. 
 
 swoon ^spelling), 17S. 
 
 table (=tablet), 150. 
 
 tackle, 180. 
 
 take head from, 151. 
 
 tarre on, 164. 
 
 taste, 178. 
 
 temporize, 174. 
 
 this same very, 164. 
 
 three-farthings, 135. 
 
 thunder ( = cannon), 1 4S- 
 
 tickling, 151. 
 
 to (=in addition to), 135. 
 
 to (intensive*, 173. 
 
 to (—towards), 157. 
 
 toasting-iron, 170. 
 
 toll ( = take toll), 154. 
 
 to-night ( = last night), 166. 
 
 took it upon his death, 134. 
 
 toothpick, 136. 
 
 tottering, 178. 
 
 touched and tried, 153. 
 
 tower (in falconry), 174. 
 
 toy (=trifle), 138. 
 
 traded, 170. 
 
 treaty, 149. 
 
 trick ( = peculiarity), 134. 
 
 true (=rightful), 169. 
 
 true blood, 162. 
 
 trumpet (^trumpeter), 132, 
 
 144. 
 truth (= honesty), 135. 
 
 unacquainted, 162. 
 unadvised, 140, 144, 174. 
 unattempted, 152. 
 uncleanly, 163. 
 unconstant, 156. 
 underbear, 153. 
 underprop, 173. 
 underwrought, 141. 
 unhaired, 174. 
 unowed, 170. 
 unreverend, 137. 
 unruly, 162. 
 
 unsettled humours, 141. 
 unsure, 157. 
 unsured, 149. 
 
 unthread the rude eve, etc., 
 176. 
 
190 
 
 INDEX OF WORDS AND PHRASES EXPLAINED. 
 
 unto the death, 135. 
 untoward, 138. 
 untread, 177. 
 untrimmed, 155. 
 unvexed, 145. 
 up (intensive), 170. 
 upon, 152, 167, 172, 180. 
 use (—utility), 177. 
 
 vantage, 150. 
 vexed (= disturbed"), 146. 
 Volquessen, 150. 
 voluntaries, 141. 
 vouchsafe, 157. 
 
 vulgar (=general), 148. 
 
 waft (=wafted), 141. 
 walks (=goes), 166. 
 wall-eyed, 169. 
 wanton (masculine), 172. 
 wert better, thou, 170. 
 what (=who), 169. 
 whether (monosyllable), 133. 
 which (=who), 152. 
 whiles, 141, 162. 
 who (= which), 151. 
 who (=whom), 179. 
 whom (=who), 166. 
 
 whose, 169. 
 
 wii ful-opposite, 175. 
 
 will (play upon), 144. 
 
 winking, 145. 
 
 with (—by), 140. 
 
 Worcester, 182. 
 
 worship of revenge, 169. 
 
 wrack, 153, 175. 
 
 wrested (= usurped', 170. 
 
 yet (=as yet), 169. 
 
 zealous, 148. 
 zounds, 149. 
 
SHAKESPEARE. 
 
 WITH NOTES BY WM. J. ROLFE, A.M. 
 
 THE MERCHANT OF VEN- 
 ICE. 
 THE TEMPEST. 
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 WINTER'S TALE. 
 ! HENRY IV. Part I. {In Press.) 
 
 70 Cents per Volume; Paper, 
 
 50 Cents ter Volume. 
 
 In the preparation of this edition of the English Classics it has been 
 the aim to adapt them for school and home reading, in essentially the 
 same way as Greek and Latin Classics are edited for educational purposes. 
 The chief requisites of such a work are a pure text (expurgated, if neces- 
 sary), and the notes needed for its thorough explanation and illustration. 
 
 Each of Shakespeare's plays is complete in one volume, and is pre- 
 ceded by an Introduction containing the "History of the Play," the 
 "Sources of the Plot," and "Critical Comments on the Play." 
 
 From Horace Howard Furness, Ph.D., LL.D., Editor of the "New 
 Variorum Shakespeare." 
 
 In my opinion Mr. Rolfe's series of Shakespeare's Plays is thoroughly 
 admirable. No one can examine these volumes and fail to be impressed 
 with the conscientious accuracy and scholarly completeness with which 
 they are edited. The educational purposes for which the notes are writ- 
 ten Mr. Rolfe never loses sight of, but like "a well-experienced archer 
 hits the mark his eye doth level at." 
 
Rolfe's Shakespeare. 
 
 From F. J. Furnivall, Director of the New Shakspere Society, London. 
 
 The merit I see in Mr. Rolfe's school editions of Shakspere's Plays 
 over those most widely used in England is that Mr. Rolfe edits the plays 
 as works of a poet, and not only as productions in Tudor English. Some 
 editors think that all they have to do with a play is to state its source 
 and explain its hard words and allusions ; they treat it as they would a 
 charter or a catalogue of household furniture, and then rest satisfied. 
 But Mr. Rolfe, while clearing up all verbal difficulties as carefully as any 
 Dryasdust, always adds the choicest extracts he can find, on the spirit 
 and special " note " of each play, and on the leading characteristics of its 
 chief personages. He does not leave the student without help in getting 
 at Shakspere's chief attributes, his characterization and poetic power. 
 And every practical teacher knows that while every boy can look out 
 hard words in a lexicon for himself, not one in a score can, unhelped, 
 catch points of and realize character, and feel and express the distinctive 
 individuality of each play as a poetic creation. 
 
 From Prof. Edward Dowden, LL.D., of the University of Dublin, 
 Aiithor of ''Shakspere: His Mind and Art." 
 
 I incline to think that no edition is likely to be so useful for school and 
 home reading as yours. Your notes contain so much accurate instruc- 
 tion, with so little that is superfluous; you do not neglect the aesthetic 
 study of the play ; and in externals, paper, type, binding, etc., you make 
 a book "pleasant to the eyes" (as well as "to be desired to make one 
 wise ") — no small matter, I think, with young readers and with old. 
 
 From Edwin A. Abbott, M.A., Author of " Shakespearian Grammar." 
 I have not seen any edition that compresses so much necessary infor- 
 mation into so small a space, nor any that so completely avoids the com- 
 mon faults of commentaries on Shakespeare — needless repetition, super- 
 fluous explanation, and unscholar-like ignoring of difficulties. 
 
 From Hiram Corson, M.A., Professor of Anglo-Saxon and English 
 Literature, Cornell University, Ithaca, A r . Y. 
 In the way of annotated editions of separate plays of Shakespeare, for 
 educational purposes, I know of none quite up to Rolfe's. 
 
A 
 
I 
 
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