Enter King John, King Philip, Lewis, Blanch, Elinor;. Faulconbridge, and Auftria.

K.Phil. 'Tis true, fair daughter; and this bleffed day Ever in France fhall be kept feftival :

To folemnize this day, the glorious Sun
Stays in his courfe, and plays the Alchymist;:
Turning with fplendour of his precious eye
The meagre cloddy earth to glitt'ring gold.
The yearly courfe, that brings this day about,
Shall never fee it, but a holy-day.

Conft. A wicked day, and not an holy-day.-[Rifing..
What hath this day deferv'd? what hath it done,
That it in golden letters fhould be fet
Among the high tides in the kalendar?
Nay, rather turn this day out of the week,
This day of fhame, oppreffion, perjury:
Or, if it muft ftand ftill, let wives with child
Pray, that their burdens may not fall this day,.
Left that their hopes prodigiously be croft:
But, on this day, let feamen fear no wreck ;
No bargains break, that are not this day made;
This day, all things begun come to ill end,
Yea, faith itself to hollow falfhood change!
K. Philip. By heaven, Lady, you shall have no caufe
To curfe the fair proceedings of this day:
Have I not pawn'd to you my Majefty?

Conft. You have beguil'd me with a counterfeit
Refembling Majefty, which, touch'd and try'd,
Proves valueless: you are forfworn, forfworn.
You came in arms to fpill my enemies blood,
But now in arms,. you ftrengthen it with yours.
The grapling vigour, and rough frown of war,
Is cold in amity and painted peace,.

And our oppreffion hath made up this league:
Arm, arm, ye Heavn's, against thefe perjur'd Kings:
A widow cries, be husband to me, Heav'n!
Let not the hours of this ungodly day

Wear out the day in peace; but ere Sun-fet,

Set

Set armed difcord 'twixt these perjur'd Kings.
Hear me, oh, hear me!

Auft. Lady Conftance, peace.

Conft. War, war, no peace; peace is to me a war: O. Lymoges, O Aufiria! thou doft shame

That bloody fpoil: thou flave, thou wretch; thou coward,
Thou little valiant, great in villainy!

Thou ever ftrong upon the ftronger fide;
Thou Fortune's champion, that doit never fight
But when her humorous Ladyfhip is by
To teach thee fafety thou art perjur'd too,
And footh'ft up greatnefs. What a fool art thou,
A ramping fool, to brag, to ftamp, and fwear,
Upon my party; thou cold-blooded flave,
Halt thou not fpoke like thunder on my fide?
Been fworn my foldier, bidding me depend.
Upon thy ftars, thy fortune, and thy frength?
And do thou now fall over to my foes?
Thou wear a lion's hide! doff it for fhame,
And hang a calve's skin on those recreant limbs.
Auft. O, that a man would speak thofe words to me!
Faule. And hang a calve's 'skin on those recreant
limbs.

Auft. Thou dar'it not fay fo, villain, for thy life.
Faule. And hang a calve's kin on thofe recreant

limbs.

Auft. Methinks, that Richard's pride and Richard's

fall (14)

Should be a precedent to fright you, Sir..

Faulc.

(14) Auft. Methinks, that Richard's pride and Richard's fall】 Thefe 12 fubfequent lines Mr. Pope first inferted from the old fketch of this play, call'd, The troublesome Reign of King John, in Two Parts. As the Verfes are not bad, I have not catheer'd them tho' I do not conceive them.io abfolutely effential to clearing up any circumftance of the action, as Mr. Pope feems to imagine. What was the ground of this quarrel of the Baftard to Auftria (fays that Gentleman) is no where specified in the prefent play; nor is there in this place, or the fcene where it is firft hinted at, (namely, the 2d of Act 2) the leaf mention of any reafon for it.

This is the Editor's aftertion, but let us examine, how well it is grounded. In the very

Faulc. What words are thefe? how do my finews shake! My father's foe clad in my father's spoilt

How

beginning of the 2d a, the Dauphin, fpeaking of Auftria to young Arthur, fays;

Richard, that robb'd the lion of bis heart,
And fought the holy wars in Palestine,
By this brave Duke came early to his grave,
To which Arthur replies;

God fhall forgive you Cœur-de-lion's Death,
The rather, that you give bis Offspring Life;

Is not this a fufficient ground for Faulconbridge's quarrel to Auftria? It may be objected, Faulconbridge is not prefent to hear this. But, what if he be not? So the audience be inform'd duely of the cir cumftance, the fact was too notorious to fuppofe Faulconbridge did not know of it. The ground of his quarrel, therefore, is fairly implied in that knowledge: And the Poet's art, perhaps, better fhewn, (if we were to contend that point,) to let the information come from any other mouth than that of Faulconbridge. But then to a fecon material point. The fery is, (fubjoins the Editor) that Auftria, who killed King Richard Cour-de-lion, cuore, as the spil of that Prince, a lion's hide which bad belonged to him: This circumftance renders the anger of the Baftard very natural: and ought not to have been omitted. But is it omitted? Or, elfe, 'tis but begging the queftion. In the 3d act, when Lady Conftance perceives that Auftria has abandoned her intereft, fhe fays to him;

Q Lymoges! O Auftria ! theu doft shame
That bloody fpoil.

Thou wear a lion's hide! doff it, for shame ;:

And bang a calf's fkin on thofe recreant limbs.

Now Faulconbridge is prefent here, and fees Auftria thus habited. But before, in the 24 at, where Faulconbridge begins to quarrel with Auftria, let us attend to their dialogue.

Auft. What the devil art thou?

Faulc. One that will play the devil, Sir, with you,

An' he may catch your hide and you alone.
You are the bare, of whom the proverb goes,
Whofe valour plucks dead lions by the beard,

I'll Smoak your skin coat, an' I catch you right ;

But may it not here again be objected, that though Faulconbridge law Auftria clad in a lion's hide; yet he might not know it to be the very hide, which was worn by King Richard his father? But to pat that point out of all doubt, let us only hear what Lady Blanch imme diately replies;

0, well did he become that lion's hide,
That did difrobe the lion of that robe,

How doth Alecto whisper in my ears,

Delay not, Richard, kill the villain ftrait; "Difrobe him of the matchlefs monument,' "Thy father's triumph o'er the favagesNow by his foul I fwear, my father's foul, Twice will I not review the morning's rife, Till I have torn that trophy from thy back; And split thy heart, for wearing it fo long. K. John. We like not this, thou doft forget thyself. Enter Pandulph.

K. Philip. Here comes the holy legate of the Pope. Pand. Hail, you anointed deputies of heav'n! To thee, King John, my holy errand is;

Pandulph, of fair Milain Cardinal,

And from Pope Innocent the Legate here,
Po in his name religioufly demand

Why thou against the church, our holy mother,
So wilfully doft fpurn, and force perforce
Keep Stephen Langton, chofen archbishop
Of Canterbury, from that holy See ?
This in our forefaid holy father's name,
Pope Innocent, I do demand of thee.

K. John. What earthly name to interrogatories.
Can talk the free breath of a facred King
Thou canst not. Cardinal, devife a name
So flight, unworthy, and ridiculous,
To charge me to an answer, as the Pope.
Tell him this tale, and from the mouth of England
Add thus much more, that no Italian prieft

Shall tithe or toll in our dominions:
But as we under heav'n are fupreme head,
So, under him, that great fupremacy,
Where we do reign, we will alone uphold;

I fubmit it therefore, whether thefe lines have not been inferted, rather arbitrarily, than neceffarily. Upon the whole, as Mr. Pope has generally been unfortunate in his criticifms; fo he is no lefs un-. happy in his diligence, when he would aim at giving a reason for what he does.

Without

Without th'affiftance of a mortal hand.
So tell the Pope, all rev'rence fet apart
To him and his ufurp'd authority.

K. Philip. Brother of England, you blafpheme in this. K. John. Tho' you, and all the Kings of Christendom Are led fo grofly by this medling priest,

Dreading the curfe, that money may buy out;
And by the merit of vile gold, drofs, duft,
Purchate corrupted pardon of a man,

Who in that fale fells pardon from himself:
Tho' you, and all the reft, fo grofly led,
This jugling witch-craft with revenue cherish;
Yet I alone, alone, do me oppofe

Against the Pope, and count his friends my foes.
Pand. Then by the lawful power that I have,
Thou shalt ftand curft, and excommunicate;
And bleffed fhall he be, that doth revolt
From his allegiance to an heretick;
And meretorious fhall that hand be call'd,
Canonized, and worfhip'd as a faint

That takes away by any fecret courfe
Thy hateful life.

Cont. O, lawful let it be, (15)

That I have room with Rome to curfe a while.
Good father Cardinal, cry thou, Amen,

To my keen curfes; for without my wrong
There is no tongue hath power to curfe him right.
Pand. There's law, and warrant, Lady, for my curfe.
Conf. And for mine too; when law can do no right,
Let it be lawful that law bar no wrong:

(15) 0, lareful let it be,

That I have have quith Rome to curse a while;] Mr. Tope, in the nicety of his ear, has, against the authority of all the copies, difplaced a jingle here; (which I have made bold ta reftore to the text,) tho' it is obvious to every knowing reader, how customary it is with our Peet, in a thousand inftances, to play on words similar in found, and differing in fignification. He repeats the very fame conundrum on the two words now before us, in Junus Cæfar.

Now is it Rome indeed; and room enough,
When there is in it but one only man.

Law