K. John. France, thoù fhalt rue this hour within

this hour.

Faulc. Old time the clock-setter, that bald fexton time,

Is it, as he will? well then, France fhall rue.

Blanch. The fun's o'ercaft with blood: fair day,
adieu !

Which is the fide 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 afunder, and difmember me.
Husband, I cannot pray that thou may'st win:
Uncle, I needs muff pray that thou may'st lofe:
Father, I may not with the fortune thine :
Grandam, I will not wish thy wishes thrive:
Whoever wins, on that fide fhall I lofe :
Affured lofs, 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.

K. John. Coufin, go draw our puiffance together.

[Exit Faulconbridge. France, I am burn'd up with inflaming wrath; A rage, whofe hate hath this condition

That nothing can allay, nothing but blood,
The blood, and dearest-valu'd blood of France.

K. Phil. Thy rage fhall burn thee up, and thou fhalt turn

To afhes, ere our blood fhall quench that fire:
Look to thyself, thou art in jeopardy.

K. John. No more than he that threats. To arms !

let's hie!

[Exeunt.

SCENE

SCENE II.

Changes to a field of battle.

Alarms, excurfions: enter Faulconbridge, with Auftria's bead.

Faulc. Now, by my life, this day grows wondrous hot;

Some airy devil hovers in the sky,

And pours down mischief. Auftria's head lie there; 9 Thus hath king Richard's fon perform'd his vow,

Some airy devil-] We must read, Some fiery devil, if we will have the cause equal to the effect. WARBURTON.

There is no end of fuch alterations; every page of a vehement and negligent writer will afford opportunities for changes of terms, if mere propriety will justify them. Not that of this

change the propriety is out of controverfy. Dr. Warburton will have the devil fiery, because he makes the day hot; the author makes him airy, because he hovers in the sky, and the heat and mischief are natural confequences of his malignity.

JOHNSON.

Shakespeare here probably alludes to the diftinctions and divifions of fome of the demonologifts, fo much read and regarded in his time. They diftributed the devils into different tribes and claffes, each of which had its peculiar properties, attributes, &c.

Thefe are defcribed at length in Burton's Anatomie of Melancholy, part 1. fect. 2. p. 45. 1632.

"Of thefe fublunary devils-Pfellus makes fix kinds; fiery, "aeriall, terreftriall, watery, and fubterranean devils, befides "thofe faieries, fatyres, nymphes," &c.

"Fiery fpirits or divells are fuch as commonly worke by "blazing ftarres, fire-drakes, and counterfeit funnes and "moones, and fit on fhips mafts," &c. &c.

"Aeriall fpirits or divells are fuch as keep quarter most part "in the aire, cause many tempefts, thunder and lightnings, "teare oakes, fire fteeples, houfes, ftrike men and beafts, "make it raine ftones," &c. PERCY.

9 Thus bath king Richard's fon, &c.] This and the two following lines are taken from the old imperfect sketch by Mr. Pope. STEEVENS.

And

And offer'd Auftria's blood for facrifice
Unto his father's ever-living foul.

Enter king John, Arthur, and Hubert.

K. John. Hubert, keep this boy. Philip, make up ; my mother

Is affail'd in our tent, and ta'en, I fear.
Faulc. My lord, I refcu'd her;
Her highnefs is in fafety, fear you not:
But on, my liege; for very little pains
Will bring this labour to an happy end.

SCENE III.

[Exeunt.

Alarms, excurfions, retreat. Re-enter king John, Elinor, Arthur, Faulconbridge, Hubert, and lords.

K. John. So fhall it be ;-your grace shall stay be

hind,

[To Elinor.

So ftrongly guarded.-Coufin, look not fad :

[To Arthur.

Thy grandam loves thee; and thy uncle will
As dear be to thee as thy father was.
Arth. O, this will make my mother die with grief.
K. John. Coufin, away for England: hafte before,
[To Faulconbridge.
And, ere our coming, fee thou shake the bags
Of hoarding abbots; their imprison'd angels
Set at liberty: the fat ribs of peace

the fat ribs of peace

I

Muft

Muft by the hungry now, be fed upon.] This word now seems a very idle term here, and conveys no fatisfactory idea. An antithefis, and oppofition of terms, fo perpetual with our author, requires;

Muft by the hungry war be fed upon.

War, demanding a large expence, is very poetically faid to be bungry, and to prey on the wealth and fat of peace. WARBUR. This emendation is better than the former, but yet not neceffary. Sir T. HANMER reads, hungry maw, with less devia

Muft by the hungry now, be fed upon.

Ufe our commiffion in its utmost force.

Faulc. 2 Bell, book, and candle fhall not drive me

back,

When gold and filver becks me to come on.

I leave your highnefs.-Grandam, I will pray (If ever I remember to be holy)

For your fair fafety; fo I kifs your hand.

Eli. Farewell, gentle coufin.

K. John. Coz, farewell.

[Exit Faulc.

Eli. Come hither, little kinfman ;-hark, a word.
[Taking him to one fide of the stage.

K. John. [To Hubert on the other fide.
Come hither, Hubert. O my gentle Hubert,
We owe thee much; within this wall of flefh
There is a foul, counts thee her creditor,
And with advantage means to pay thy love:
And, my good friend, thy voluntary oath
Lives in this bofom, dearly cherished.
Give me thy hand, I had a thing to fay—
But I will fit it with fome better time.
By heaven, Hubert, I am almost asham'd
To fay what good refpect I have of thee.

Hub. I am much bounden to your majefty.

K. John. Good friend, thou haft no caufe to fay fo yet:

But thou shalt have;-and creep time ne'er fo flow, Yet it fhall come for me to do thee good.

tion from the common reading, but with not fo much force or elegance as war. JOHNSON.

Either emendation is unneceffary. The hungry now is this hungry inftant. Shakespeare perhaps ufed the word now as a fubftantive, in Measure for Measure,

till this very now,

When men were fond, I fmil'd and wonder'd how. STEEVENS. 2 Bell, book, and candle, &c.] In an account of the Romish curfe given by Dr. Gray, it appears that three candles were extinguished, one by one, in different parts of the execration.

JOHNSON.

I had a thing to say,—but, let it
go:
The fun 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
3 Sound on unto the drowsy race of night;
If this fame were a church-yard where we stand,
And thou poffeffed with a thousand wrongs;
Or if that furly spirit melancholy

Had bak'd thy blood and made it heavy, thick,
(Which, elfe, runs tickling up and down the veins,
Making that ideot, laughter, keep mens' eyes,
And ftrain their cheeks to idle merriment;
A paffion hateful to my purposes)

Or if that thou could't fee me without eyes,
Hear me without thine ears, and make reply
Without a tongue, ufing conceit alone,
Without eyes, ears, and harmful found of words;
Then, in defpight of broad-ey'd watchful day,
I would into thy bofom pour my thoughts:
But ah, I will not yet I love thee well;
And, by my troth, I think, thou lov'st me well.
Hub. So well, that what you bid me undertake,
Tho' that my death were adjunct to my act,
By heaven, I would do it.

K. John. Do not I know thou would'st?
Good Hubert, Hubert, Hubert, throw thine eye
On yon young boy: I'll tell thee what, my friend;

3 Sound ON unto the drowsy race of night ;] We should read, Sound ONEWARBURTON.

I fhould fuppofe found on (which is the reading of the folio) to be the true one. The meaning feems to be this; if the midnight bell, by repeated ftrokes, was to hafien away the race of beings who are bufy at that hour, or quicken night itself in its progrefs, the morning-bell (that is, the bell that ftrikes one) could not, with ftrict propriety, be made the agent; for the bell has ceased to be in the fervice of night, when it proclaims the arrival of day. Sound on has a peculiar propriety, becaufe by the repetition of the ftrokes at twelve, it gives a much more forcible warning than when it only ftrikes one. STEEVENS.

He