He means to recompenfe the pains you take,
By cutting off your heads: thus hath he fworn,
And I with him, and many more with me,
Upon the altar at St. Edmond's-bury;
Even on that altar where we fwore to you
Dear amity and everlasting love.

Sal. May this be poffible! 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

Refolveth from its figure 'gainst the fire?

What in the world fhould make me now deceive,

Since I must lose the ufe of all deceit ?

Why should I then be falfe, fince it is true
That I muft die here, and live hence by truth?
I fay again, if Lewis do win the day,

He is forfworn, if e'er thofe eyes of yours
Behold another day break in the east.

But even this night, whofe black contagious breath
Already fmoaks about the burning creft
Of the old, feeble, and day-wearied fun,
Even this ill night, your breathing fhall expire;
Paying the fine of 3 rated treachery,

Even with a treacherous fine of all your lives,
If Lewis by your affiftance win the day.
Commend me to one Hubert, with your king;
The love of him, and this refpect befides,
(For that my grandfire was an Englishman)
Awakes my confcience to confefs all this.
In lieu whereof, I pray you, bear me hence
From forth the noife and rumour of the field;
Where I may think the remnant of my thoughts
In peace; and part this body and my foul
With contemplation and devout defires.

3

rated treachery,] It were eafy to change rated to bated for an eafier meaning, but rated fuits better with fine. The dauphin has rated your treachery, and fet upon it a fine which your lives must pay. JOHNSON.

Sal. We do believe thee; and befhrew my foul,
But I do love the favour and the form

Of this moft fair occafion, by the which
We will untread the steps of damned flight;
And, like a bated and retired flood,
Leaving our ranknefs and irregular course,

Stoop low within those bounds we have o'er-look'd;
And calmly run on in obedience,

Even to our ocean, to our great king John.-
My arm fhall give thee help to bear thee hence;

For I do fee the cruel pangs of death

Right in thine eye 4. Away, my friends! new flight;

And 5 happy newness that intends old right.

[Exeunt, leading off Melun,

SCENE V.

Changes to a different part of the French camp.
Enter Lewis and his train.

Lewis. The fun of heaven, methought, was loth to

fet;

But ftaid, and made the western welkin blush,

When the English meafur'd backward their own ground
In faint retire: oh, bravely came we off,
When with a volley of our needless shot,
After fuch bloody toil, we bid good night;
And wound our tatter'd colours clearly up,
Laft in the field, and almoft lords of it!

6

Enter

4 Right in thine eye.-] This is the old reading. Right fignifies immediate. It is now obfolete. Some of the modern editors read, pight, i. e. pitched as a tent is; others, fight in thine eye. STEEVENS.

5

happy newness, &c.] Happy innovation, that purposed the reloration of the ancient rightful government. JOHNSON. 6-tatter'd-] For tatter'd, the folio reads tottering. JOHNS. It is remarkable through fuch old copies of our author as I have hitherto feen, that wherever the modern editors read talter'd, the old editions give us tetter'd in its room. Perhaps

the

Enter a messenger.

Mef. Where is my prince, the dauphin?

Lewis. Here.-What news?

Mef. The count Melun is flain; the English lords By his perfuafion are again fallen of:

And your fupplies, which you have wish'd fo long,
Are caft away, and funk, on Goodwin fands.

Lewis. Ah foul, fhrewd, news! Beshrew thy very heart,

I did not think to be fo fad to-night,

As this hath made me.-Who was he that faid,
King John did fly an hour or two before

The ftumbling night did part our weary powers?
Mef. Who ever spoke it, it is true, my lord.
Lewis. Well, keep good quarter, and good care
to-night:

The day fhall not be up fo foon as I,

To try the fair adventure of to-morrow.

SCENE VI.

[Exeunt.

An open place in the neighbourhood of Swinftead-abbey. Enter Faulconbridge and Hubert feverally.

Hub. Who's there? fpeak, ho! fpeak quickly, or I shoot.

Faulc. A friend. What art thou?

Hub. Of the part of England.

Faule. And whither doft thou go?

Hub. What's that to thee?

Why may not I demand of thine affairs,

As well as thou of mine?

the present broad pronunciation, almoft particular to the Scots, was at that time common to both nations.

So in The Downfall of Rob. Earl of Huntington, 1601.
"I will not bid my enfign-bearer wave
"My totter'd colours in this worthlefs air."

STEEVENS.

Faule

Faulc. Hubert, I think.

Hub. Thou haft a perfect thought.

I will, upon all hazards, well believe

Thou art my friend, that know'st my tongue fo well, Who art thou?

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

Hub. Unkind remembrance! 7 thou and eyeless night

Have done me shame.-Brave foldier, pardon me,
That any accent, breaking from thy tongue
Should 'fcape the true acquaintance of mine ear.
Faulc. Come, come; fans compliment, what news
abroad?

Hub. Why here walk I, in the black brow of night, To find you out.

Faulc. Brief, then; and what's the news?

Hub. O my fweet Sir, news fitted to the night; Black, fearful, comfortless, and horrible.

Faulc. Shew me the very wound of this ill news; I am no woman, I'll not fwoon at it.

Hub. The king, I fear, is poifon'd by a monk:
I left him almoft fpeechlefs, and broke out
To acquaint you with this evil; that you might
The better arm you to the fudden time,

Than if you had at leifure known of this.

Faulc. How did he take it? Who did tafte to him?
Hub. A monk, I tell you; a refolved villain,

Whofe bowels fuddenly burft out: the king
Yet fpeaks, and, peradventure, may recover.
Faule. Who didft thou leave to tend his majefty
Hub. Why, know you not? the lords are all come
back,

And brought prince Henry in their company;

7 — thou and endless night] We should read, eyelefs. So Pindar calls the moon, the eye of night. WARBURTON.

At whose request the king hath pardon'd them,
And they are all about his majefty.

Faule. With-hold thine indignation, mighty heaven, And tempt us not to bear above our power! I'll tell thee, Hubert, half my powers this night, Paffing these flats, are taken by the tide; Thefe Lincoln washes have devour'd them; Myfelf, well-mounted, hardly have efcap'd. Away, before! Conduct me to the king; I doubt, he will be dead, or e'er I come.

SCENE VII.

Changes to the orchard in Swinftead-abbey.
Enter prince Henry, Salisbury, and Bigot.

[Exeunt.

Hen. It is too late; the life of all his blood Is touch'd corruptibly; and his pure brain (Which fome fuppofe the foul's frail dwelling-house) Doth, by the idle comments that it makes, Foretell the ending of mortality.

Enter Pembroke.

Pemb. His highness yet doth fpeak; and holds belief,

That, being brought into the open air,

It would allay the burning quality

Of that fell poifon which affaileth him.

Hen. Let him be brought into the orchard here, Doth he still rage?

Pemb. He is more patient

Than when you left him; even now he fung.
Hen. O vanity of sickness! fierce extremes
In their continuance will not feel themfelves.
Death, having prey'd upon the outward parts,
Leaves them infenfible: and his fiege is now
Against the mind, the which he pricks and wounds
With many legions of ftrange fantasies;