The incense of a vow, a holy vow +;
Never to taste the pleasures of the world,
Neter to be infected with delight,
Nor conversant with ease and idleness,

Till I have set a glory to this hand,
By giving it the worship of revenge s.
Pemb. Bigot. Our souls religiously confirm thy

Enter Hubert. Hub. Lords, I am hot with hafte in seeking you : Arthur doth live; the king hath sent for you.

Sal. Oh, he is bold, and blushes not at death :-Avaunt, thou hateful villain, get thee gone!

a holy vo; Never to taste the pleasures of the worlal,] This is a copy of the vows made in the ages of superstition and chivalry. JOHNSON.

the worship of reverge.] The worship is the dignity, the honour. We still say worshipful of magiftrates. JOHNSON.

'Till I have fet a glory to this band,

By giving it the worship of revenge.] I think it should bema glory to this head Pointing to the dead prince, and using the word worship in its common acceptation. A glory is a frequent term:

6. Round a quaker's beaver cast a glory,” says Mr. Pope: the folemn confirmation of the other lords seems to require this fenfe. The late Mc. Gray was much pleased with this correction. FARMER.

The old reading feems right to me, and means, - 'till I have famed and renowned my.onun hand by giving it the honour of revenge for fo foul a deed. Glory means fplendor and magnificence in faint Matthew, vi. 29. So, in Markham's Husbandry, 1631, p. 353: 66 But if it be where the tide is fcant, and doth no more but bring the river to a glory;" 1. e. fills the banks without overflowing. So, in act II. sc. ii, of this play:

" Oh, two such filver currents, when they join,

Do glorify the banks that bound them in." A thought almost fimilar to the present, occurs in Ben Jonson's Catiline, who, act IV. sc. iv. lays to Cethegus : " When we meet again we'll sacrifice to liberty. Cet. And revenge. That we may praise our hands once !" i. e. Oh! that we may fet a glory, or procure honour and praise, to our hands, which are the initruments of action. TOLLET.



Hub. I am no villain.
Sal. Muft I rob the law ?

[Drawing his sword. Faulc. Your sword is bright, fir; put it up again. Sal. Not 'till I sheath it in a murderer's skin.

Hub. Stand back, lord Salisbury, stand back, I say; By heaven, I think, my sword's as sharp as yours : I would not have you, lord, forget yourself, Nor tempt the danger of my true defence"; Left I, by marking of your rage, forget Your worth, your greatness, and nobility.

Bigot. Out, dunghill! dar'st thou brave a nobleman?

Hub. Not for my life: but yet I dare defend My innocent life against an emperor.

Sal. Thou art a murderer.

Hub. Do not prove me so?;
Yet, I am none: Whose tongue foe'er speaks false,
Not truly speaks; who speaks not truly, lies.

Pemb. Cut him to pieces.
Falc. Keep the peace, I say.
Sal. Stand by, or I shall gaul you, Faulconbridge.

Faulc. Thou wert better gaul the devil, Salisbury :
If thou but frown on me, or stir thy foot,
Or teach thy hasty spleen to do ine shame,
I'll strike thee dead. Put up thy sword betime;
Or I'll fo maul you and your toasting-iron®,
That you shall think the devil is come from hell.

Bigot. What wiltthou do, renowned Faulconbridge? Second a villain, and a murderer?

Hub. Lord Bigot, I am none.

I am

5 true defence;) Honeft defence; defence in a good cause.

Johnson. ? Do not prove me fo; Yet, I am none :

:] Do not make me a murderer by compelling me to kill you; bitherto not a murderer. Johnson.

your toasting-iron,] The same thought is found in K. Hen. V: “ I dare not fight, but I will wink and hold out mine iron. It is a simple one, but what though? it will toast cheese.




Bigot. Who kill'd this prince ?

Hub. Tis 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.

Sal. Trust not those cunning waters of his eyes,
For villainy is not without such rheum;
And he, long traded in it, makes it seem
Like rivers of remorse and innocency.
Away, with me, all you whose souls abhor
The uncleanly favours of a Naughter-house;
For I am stifled with this smell of fin.

Bigot. Away, toward Bury, to the Dauphin there!
Pemb. There, tell the king, he may enquire us out.

Exeunt lords. Faulc. Here's a good world !-Knew you of this

fair work? Beyond the infinite and boundless reach Of

mercy, if thou did it this deed of death, Art thou damn'd, Hubert.

Hub. Do but hear me, fir.

Faulc. Ha! I'll tell thee what ; Thou art damn'd so black-nay, nothing is so black; Thou art more deep damn'd than prince Lucifer : 9 There is not yet so ugly a fiend of hell As thou shalt be, if thou didst kill this child.

Hub. Upon my soul,

Faulc. If thou didst but consent
To this most cruel act, do but despair,
And, if thou want'st a cord, the smallest thread
That ever spider twisted from her womb
Will serve to strangle thee; a rush will be a beam

9 There is not yet &c.] I remember once to have met with a book, printed in the time of Henry VII. (which Shakespeare possibly might have seen) where we are told that the deformity of the condemned in the other world is exactly proportioned to the degrees of their guilt. The author of it obferves how difficult it would be, on this account, to distinguish between Belzebub and Judas Iscariot. STEEVENS.


To hang thee on : or, would'st thou drown thyself,
Put but a little water in a spoon,
And it shall be as all the ocean,
Enough to stifle such a villain up.
I do suspect thee very grievously.

Hub. "If I in act, consent, or fin 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.

Faulc. Go, bear him in thine arms.
I am amaz’d, inethinks; and lose my way
Among the thorns and dangers of this world.
How easy dost thou take all England up!
From forth this morsel of dead royalty,
The life, the right, and truth of all this realm
Is fled to heaven; and England now is left
To tug, and scamble, and to part by the teeth
*The un-owed 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


peace : Now powers from home, and discontents at home, Meet in one line; and vast confufion waits (As doth a raven on a fick-fallen beast) The imminent decay of wrested pomp?. Now happy he, whose cloak and cincture : can Hold out this tempeft. 'Bear away that child, And follow me with speed; I'll to the king : A thousand busineffes are brief in hand, And heaven itself doth frown upon the land. (Exeunt.

The un-orved intereft] i. e. the interest which has no proper owner to claim it. STEEVENS.

2 The imminent decay of wrested pomp.]. Wrested pomp is greatness obtained by violence. Johnson.

3 --and cincture] The old copy reads-center, probably for ceinture. Fr, STEEVENS.


А сту.


The court of England.
Enter King John, Pandulph, and attendants,
K. John. Thus have I yielded up into your

hand The circle of my glory. [Giving up the crown.

Pand. Take again
From this my hand, as holding of the pope,
Your sovereign greatness and authority.
K. John. Now keep your holy word : go meet the

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,
To stranger blood, to foreign royalty.
This inundation of mistemper'd humour
Rests by you only to be qualify'd.
Then pause not; for the present time's so fick,
That present medicine must be miniftred,
Or overthrow incurable ensues.

Pand. It was my breath that blew this tempeft up,
Upon your stubborn usage of the pope :
But, fince you are a gentle convertite 4,
My tongue shall hush again this storm of war,
And make fair weather in your blustering land,
On this Ascension-day, remember well,
Upon your oath of service to the pope,
Go I to make the French lay down their arms. [Exit.

a gentle convertite,] A convertite is a convert. So, in Marlow's few of Malta, 1633 : No, governour, I'll be no convertite." STEEVENS.

K. John.


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