To crouch in litter of your stable planks ; To lie, like pawns, lock'd up in chests and trunks ; To hug with swine; to seek sweet safety out Lew. There end thy brave, and turn thy face in peace; We grant, thou canst outscold us fare thee well; We hold our time too precious to be spent With such a brabbler. Pand. Give me leave to speak. Bast. No, I will speak. Lew. We will attend to neither : Strike up the drums; and let the tongue of war Plead for our interest, and our being here. Bast. Indeed, your drums, being beaten, will cry out; And so shall you, being beaten : Do but start An echo with the clamour of thy drum, A bare-ribb'd death, whose office is this day To feast upon whole thousands of the French. [1] i. e. at the crowing of a cock; gallus meaning both a cock and a Frenchman. [2] An aiery is the nest of an eagle. STEEVENS DOUCE. Lew. Strike up our drums, to find this danger out. [Exeunt. SCENE III. The same. A Field of Battle. Alarums. Enter King JOHN and HUBERT. K. John. How goes the day with us? O, tell me, Hubert. Hub. Badly, I fear: How fares your majesty? K. John. This fever, that hath troubled me so long, Lies heavy on me; O, my heart is sick! Enter a Messenger. Mess. My lord, your valiant kinsman, Faulconbridge, Desires your majesty to leave the field; And send him word by me, which way you go. K. John. Tell him, toward Swinstead, to the abbey there. Mess. Be of good comfort; for the great supply, K. John. Ah me! this tyrant fever burns me up, SCENE IV. The same. Another part of the same. [Exeunt. Enter SALISBURY, PEMBROKE, BIGOT, and others. Sal. I did not think the king so stor❜d with friends. If they miscarry, we miscarry too. Sal. That misbegotten devil, Faulconbridge, In spite of spite, alone upholds the day. Pem. They say, king John, sore sick, hath left the field. Enter MELUN wounded, and led by Soldiers. Sal. Wounded to death.. Mel. Fly, noble English, you are bought and sold; And welcome home again discarded faith. Sal. May this be possible? may this be true? Which bleeds away, even as a form of wax Why should I then be false; since it is true I say again, if Lewis do win the day, He is forsworn, if e'er those eyes of yours Behold another day break in the east: But even this night,-whose black contagious breath Already smokes about the burning crest Of the old, feeble, and day-wearied sun, Even this ill night, your breathing shall expire; Even with a treacherous fine of all your lives, [3] This is said in allusion to the images made by witches. Resolve and dissolve had anciently the same meaning, STEEVENS. From forth the noise and rumour of the field; Sal. We do believe thee,-And beshrew my soul Of this most fair occasion, by the which Leaving our rankness and irregular course,+ Even to our ocean, to our great king John.- Rights in thine eye.-Away, my friends! New flight; 6 [Exeunt, leading of MELUN SCENE V. The same. The French Camp. Enter LEWIS and his Train. Enter a Messenger. Mess. Where is my prince, the Dauphin? Mess. The count Melun is slain; the English lords, By his persuasion, are again fallen off: [4] Rank, as applied to water, here signifies exuberant, ready to overflow: as applied to the actions of the speaker and his party, it signifies inordinate. [5] Right signifies immediate. It is now obsolete. STEEVENS. MALONE. [6] Happy innovation, that purposed the restoration of the antient rightful go [7] It is remarkable through such old copies of our author as I have hitherto seen, that wherever the modern editors read tatter'd, the old editions give us totter'd in its room. Perhaps the present broad pronunciation, almost peculiar to the Scots, was at that time common to both nations. STEEVENS And your supply, which you have wish'd so long, Lew. Ah, foul shrewd news!-Beshrew thy very heart! I did not think to be so sad to-night, As this hath made me.-Who was he, that said, The stumbling night did part our weary powers? Lew. Well; keep good quarter, and good care tonight; The day shall not be up so soon as I, To try the fair adventure of to-morrow. SCENE VI. [Exeunt. An open place in the neighbourhood of Swinstead-Abbey. Enter the Bastard and HUBERT, meeting. Hub. Who's there? speak, ho! speak quickly, or I shoot. Bast. A friend :-What art thou? Hub. Of the part of England. Bast. Whither dost thou go? Hub. What's that to thee? Why may not I demand Of thine affairs, as well as thou of mine? Bast. Hubert, I think. Hub. Thou hast a perfect thought: I will, upon all hazards, well believe Thou art my friend, that know'st my tongue so well : Bast. Who thou wilt: an if thou please, Thou mayst befriend me so much, as to think I come one way of the Plantagenets. Hub. Unkind remembrance thou, and eyeless night," Have done me shame :-Brave soldier, pardon me, That any accent, breaking from thy tongue, Should 'scape the true acquaintance of mine ear. Bast. Come, come; sans compliment, what news abroad? Hub. Why, here walk I, in the black brow of night, To find you out. Bast. Brief, then; and what's the news? [8] So, Pindar calls the moon, the eye of night. WARBURTON. |