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What since thou sworist, is sworn against thy self,
And may not be performed by thy self;
For that which thou hast sworn to do amissi
Is not amiss when it is truly done:
And being not done, where doing cends to ill,
The Truth is then most done, not doing it:
The better AG of Purposts mistook,
Is to mistake again, though indirect,
Yet indire&ion thereby grows directs
And Fallhood, Fallhood cures, as Fire cools Fire
Within the scorching Veins of one new burn'd.
It is Religion that doth make Vows kept,
But thou hast sworn against Religion : ".
By what thou swear'st, against the thing thou (wear'ft:
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 for sworn;
Else what a Mockery Thould it be to swear?
But thou doft swear, only to be forsworn,
And most forsworn, to keep what thou dost swear;
Therefore thy latter Vows, against thy first,
Is in thy self Rebellion to thy self:
And better Conquest never canst chou make,
Than arm thy constant and thy nobler Parts
Against these giddy loose Suggestions:
Upon which better Part, our Pray’rs come in
If thou vouchsafe them. But if nor, then know
The Peril of our Curses light on thee
So heavy, as thou shalt nor Thake them off,
But in despair, die under their black weight.
Auft. Rebellion, flat Rebellion.
Baft. Will't not be?
Will not a Calves-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 Naughtered Men
Shall braying Trumpets, and loud churlish Drums,
Clamours of Hell, be measures to our Pompe
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;
Upon my Knee I beg, go not to Arms
Against mine Uncle.
Conft. O, upon my knee, made hard with kneeling,
I do pray to thee, thou virtuous Dauphin,
Alter not the Doom fore-thought by Heav'n.
Blanch. Now shall I see thy Love, what Motive may
Be stronger with thee than the Name of Wife?
Cont. That which upholdeth him, that thee upholds, His Honour. Oh thine Honour, Lewis, thine Honour.
Lewis. I muse your Majesty doth seem so cold,
When such profound Refpe&s do pull you on?
Pand. I will denounce a Curse upon his Head. [thee.
K. Philip. Thou shalt not need. England, I will fall from
Cont. O fair return of barish'd Majesty. .
Eli. O foul revolt of French Inconitancy.
K. Fohn. France, thou shalt rue this Hour within this Hour.
Balt. 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 hach a Hand,
And in their Rage, I having 'hold of both, - They whirle asunder, and dismember me.
Husband, I cannot pray that thou may'st win:
Uncle, I needs mult pray that thou may'st lose:
Father, I may not with the Fortune thine:
Grandam, I will not wish thy Wishes thrive:
Who ever wins, on that side shall I lose:
Assured loss, before the match be plaid.
Lewis. Lady, with me, with me thy Fortune lyes.
Blanch. There where my Fortune lives, there my Life dies,
K. John. Cousin, go draw our Puissance together.
France, I am burn'd up with infiiming Wrath,
A Rage, whose heat hath this condition;
That nothing can allay, nothing but Blood,
The Blood and deareft valu'd Blood of France.
K. Philip. Thy Rage shall burn thee up, and hou shallturn
To Ashes, e'er our Blood shall quench that Fire:
Look to thy self, thou ait in jeopardy.
K. John. No more than he that threats. To Arms let's hie.
Alarnas, Excersions : Enter Bastard with Auftria's Head.
Baft. Now by my Life, this Day grows wondrous hot, Some aiery Devil hovers in the sky, And pours down mischief. Austria's Head lye there,
Enter King John, Arthur, and Hubert.
While Philip breaches...
K. John. 'Hubers, keep this Boy. Philip, make up;
My Mother is assailed in our Tent,
And ta'en, I fear.
Baft. My Lord, I rescued her:
Her Highoss is in safety, fear you not.
But on, my Liege, for very litele Pains
Will bring this labour to an happy end.
Alarms, Excursions, Retreat. Enter King Jobin, Elinor,
Arthur, Bastard, Hubert, and Lords.
K. John, So Thall it be; your Grace shall stay behind.
So strongly guarded: Coufin, look not fad,
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. Coulin, away for England, halte before,
And e'er our coming fee thou shake the Bags
Of hoarding Abbots, imprisoned Angels :
Set at liberty: The fat ribs of Peace
Must by the hungry now be fed upon:
Use our Commission in its uimost force.
Baft. 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.
Eli. Farewel, gencle Cousin.
K. John. Coz, farewel
Eli. Come hither little Kinsman, hark, a word.
K. John, Come hither, Hubert. O my gentle Hubert,
We owe thee much; within this wall of flesh
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 foc ic with some better tune.
By Heav'n, Hubert, I am almost asham'd
To say what good respect I have of thee.
Hub. I am much bounden to your Majesty.
K. John. Good Friend, thou hast no caule to say so
But thou shalt have; and creep time ne'er so flow,
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 Heav'n, and the proud Day,
Attended with the pleasure 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 drowsie Race of Night;
If this fame were a Church-yard where we ftand,
And thou possessed with a thousand Wrongs;
Or if that surly Spirit, Melancholy,
Had bak’d thy Blood, and made it heavy, thick,
Which elfe runs trickling up and down the Veins,
Making that idiot Laughter keep Mens Eyes,
And ftrain their Cheeks to idle Merriment,
A Pallion hateful to my Purposes;
Or if that thou couldlt see me without Eyes,
Hear me without thine Ears, and make reply
Without a Tongue, using Conceit alone,
Without Eyes, Ears, and harmful sound of words;
Then, in despight 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.
Hub. so well, that what you bid me undertake,
Though that my Death were adjunct to my Ad,
By Heav'n I would do it.
“K, John. Do not I know thou wouldst?
Good Hubert, Hubert, Hubert, chrow thine Eye
On yon young Boy: I'll tell thee what, my Friend,
He is a very Serpent in my way,
And wheresoe'er chis Foot of mine doth tread,
He lyes before me; dost thou understand me?
Thou art his Keeper.
Hub. And I'll keep him so,
That he shall not offend your Majesty,
K. John. Death.
Hub. My Lord
K. John. A Grave,
Hub. He hall not live.
K. John. Enough.
I could be merry now. Hubert, I love thee,
Well, I'll not say what I intend for thee :
Remember : Madam, fare you well.
I'll send those Powers o'er to your Majesty,
Eli. My Blessing go with thee.
K. Jobs. For England, Cousin, go.
Hubert íhall be your Man, to attend on you
With ali true Duty; on toward Callice, hoa.
S CE N E III.
Enter King Philip, Lewis, Pandulpho, and Attendants.
K. Philip. So by a roaring Tempest on the Flood,
A whole Armado of convided Sail
Is scatter'd and disjoin'd from fellowship.
Pand. Courage and comfort, all shall yet go well.
K. Philip. What can go well, when we have run so ill ?
Are we not beaten ? Is not Angiers lost?
Arthur's ta'en Prisoners Divers dear Friends flain?
And bloody England into England gone,
O’er-bearing Interruption, spight of France.
Lewis. What he hath won, that hath he fortif
So hot a Speed, with such Advice disposid,
Such temperate Order in so fierce a Cause,
Doch want Example; who hath read, or heard
Of any kindred-Axion like to this?
K. Philip. Well could I bear that Exgland had this Praise, So we could find some Pattern of our Shame.
Look, who comes here? A Grave unto a Soul,
Holding th'eternal Spirit against her Will,
. . In