That broker, that still breaks the pate of faith;
That daily break-vow; he that wins of all,

Of kings, of beggars, old men, young men, maids;➡
Who having no external thing to lose

But the word maid,cheats the poor maid of that;
That smooth-fac'd gentleman, tickling commodity,
Commodity, the bias of the world;

The world, who of itself is peised well,
Made to run even, upon even ground;
Till this advantage, this vile drawing bias,
This sway of motion, this commodity,
Makes it take head from all indifferency,
From all direction, purpose, course, intent :
And this same bias, this commodity,

This bawd, this broker, this all-changing word,
Clapp'd on the outward eye of fickle France,
Hath drawn him from his own determin'd aid,
From a resolv'd and honourable war,
To a most base and vile-concluded peace.-
And why rail I on this commodity?

But for because he hath not woo'd me yet:
Not that I have the power to clutch my hand,
When his fair angels would salute my palm:
But for my hand, as unattempted yet,
Like a poor beggar, raileth on the rich.
Well, whiles I am a beggar, I will rail,
And say, there is no sin, but to be rich
And being rich, my virtue then shall be,
To say, there is no vice, but beggary :
Since kings break faith upon commodity,
Gain, be my lord! for I will worship thee!

ACT III.

a;

[Exit.

SCENE I.-The same. The French King's Tent. Enter CONSTANCE, ARTHUR, and SALISBURY.

Constance.

GONE to be married! gone to swear a peace!
False blood to false blood join'd! Gone to be friends!
Shall Lewis have Blanch? and Blanch those provinces ?
It is not so; thou hast misspoke, misheard;

Be well advis'd, tell o'er thy tale again:

It cannot be ; thou dost but say, 'tis so:
I trust, I may not trust thee; for thy word
Is but the vain breath of a common man :
Believe me, I do not believe thee, man;
I have a king's oath to the contrary.
Thou shalt be punish'd for thus frighting me,
For I am sick, and capable of fears;

Oppress'd with wrongs, and therefore full of fear
A widow,' husbandless, subject to fears;
A woman, naturally born to fears;

And though thou now confess, thou didst but jest
With my vex'd spirits I cannot take a truce,
But they will quake and tremble all this day.
What dost thou mean by shaking of thy head?
Why dost thou look so sadly on my son ?
What means that hand upon that breast of thine?
Why holds thine eye that lamentable rheum,
Like a proud river peering o'er his bounds?
Be these sad signs confirmers of thy words?
Then speak again; not all thy former tale,
But this one word, whether thy tale be true.
Sal. As true, as, I believe, you think them false,
That give you cause to prove my saying true.
Const. O, if thou teach me to believe this sorrow,
Teach thou this sorrow how to make me die ;
And let belief and life encounter so,

As doth the fury of two desperate men,
Which, in the very meeting, fall, and die.-
Lewis marry Blanch! O, boy, then where art thou?
France friend with England! what becomes of me?—
Fellow, begone; I cannot brook thy sight;
This news hath made thee a most ugly man.
Sal. What other harm have I, good lady, done,
But spoke the harm that is by others done?
Const. Which harm within itself so heinous is,

As it makes harmful all that speak of it.

Arth. I do beseech you, madam, be content. Const. If thou, that bid'st me be content, wert grim, Ugly, and sland'rous to thy mother's womb,

Full of unpleasing blots, and sightless' stains,

[1] This was not the fact. Constance was at this time married to a third husband, Guido, brother to the Viscount of Touars. MALONE.

[2] The poet uses sightless for that which we now express by unsightly, disagreeable to the eyes. JOHNSON.

Lame, foolish, crooked, swart, prodigious,
Patch'd with foul moles, and eye-offending marks,
I would not care, I then would be content;
For then I should not love thee; no, nor thou
Become thy great birth, nor deserve a crown.
But thou art fair; and at thy birth, dear boy!
Nature and fortune join'd to make thee great :
Of nature's gifts thou may'st with lilies boast,
And with the half-blown rose: but fortune, O!
She is corrupted, chang'd, and won from thee;
She adulterates hourly with thine uncle John;
And with her golden hand hath pluck'd on France
To tread down fair respect of sovereignty,
And made his majesty the bawd to theirs.
France is a bawd to fortune, and king John;
That strumpet fortune, that usurping John :--
Tell me, thou fellow, is not France forsworn?
Envenom him with words; or get thee gone,
And leave those woes alone, which I alone,
Am bound to under-bear.

Sal. Pardon me, madam,

I may not go without you to the kings.

Const. Thou may'st, thou shalt, I will not go with thee; I will instruct my sorrows to be proud;

For grief is proud, and makes his owner stout.*
To nie, and to the state of my great grief,
Let kings assemble; for my grief's so great,
That no supporter but the huge firm earth
Can hold it up: here I and sorrow sit;
Here is my throne, bid kings come bow to it.

[She throws herself on the ground. Enter King JOHN, King PHILIP, LEWIS, BLANCH, ELINOR, Bastard, AUSTRIA, and Attendants.

K. Phil. 'Tis true, fair daughter; and this blessed day, Ever in France shall be kept festival:

[3] i. e. portentous, so deformed as to be taken for a foretoken of evil. JOHN. [4] In Much Ado about Nothing, the father of Hero, depressed by her disgrace. declares himself so subdued by grief, that a thread may lead him. How is it that grief, in Leonato and Lady Constance, produces effects directly opposite, and yet both agreeable to nature? Sorrow softens the mind while it is yet warmed by hope, but hardens it when it is congealed by despair. Distress, while there re mains any prospect of relief, is weak and flexible, but when no succour remains, is fearless and stubborn; angry alike at those that injure, and at those that do not help; careless to please where nothing can be gained, and fearless to offend wher there is nothing further to be dreaded. Such was this writer's knowledge of the passions. JOHNSON.

To solemnize this day,' the glorious sun
Stays in his course, and plays the alchemist;
Turning, with splendor of his precious eye,
The meagre cloddy earth to glittering gold:
The yearly course, that brings this day about,
Shall never see it but a holyday.

Const. A wicked day, and not a holyday!

[Rising

-What hath this day deserv'd? what hath it done;

That it in golden letters should be set,
Among the high tides, in the kalendar?
Nay, rather, turn this day out of the week ;
This day of shame, oppression, perjury:
Or, if it must stand still, let wives with child
Pray, that their burdens may not fall this day,
Lest that their hopes prodigiously be cross'd :7
But on this day, let seamen fear no wreck
No bargains break, that are not this day made:
This day, all things begun come to ill end;
Yea, faith itself to hollow falsehood change!

K. Phil. By heaven, lady, you shall have no cause
To curse the fair proceedings of this day:
Have I not pawn'd to you my majesty?

Const. You have beguil'd me with a counterfeit,
Resembling majesty; which, being touch'd, and tried,
Proves valueless: You are forsworn, forsworn ;
You came in arms to spill mine enemies' blood,
But now in arms you strengthen it with yours:
The grappling vigour and rough frown of war,
Is cold in amity and painted peace,

And our oppression hath made up this league :-
Arm, arm, you heavens, against these perjur'd kings!
A widow cries; be husband to me, heavens !

Let not the hours of this ungodly day

[5] From this passage Rowe seems to have borrowed the first lines of his Fair Penitent. JOHNSON.

[6] In allusion to Job iii. 3, 6: "Let the day perish," &c." Let it not be joined to the days of the year, let it not come into the number of the months."In the Fair Penitent, the imprecation of Calista on the night that betrayed her to Lothario, is chiefly borrowed from this chapter of Job. STEEVENS.

[7] i. e. be disappointed by the production of a prodigy, a monster.

[8] That is, except on this day. JOHNSON.

STEEVENS.

In the ancient almanacs, (several of which I have in my possession,) the days supposed to be favourable or unfavourable to bargains, are distinguished among a number of other particulars of the like importance. STEEVENS.

[9] Being touch'd, signifies having the touchstone applied to it. The two last words, and tried, which create a redundancy of measure, should, as Mr. Ritson ob serves, be omitted. STEEVENS.

Wear out the day in peace; but, ere sunset,
Set armed discord 'twixt these perjur'd kings!
Hear me, O, hear me !

Aust. Lady Constance, peace.

Const. War! war! no peace! peace is to me a war. O Lymoges! O Austria! thou dost shame

That bloody spoil: Thou slave, thou wretch, thou coward;

Thou little valiant, great in villany!

Thou ever strong upon the stronger side!
Thou fortune's champion, that dost never fight
But when her humourous ladyship is by
To teach thee safety! thou art perjur'd too,
And sooth'st up greatness. What a fool art thou,
A ramping fool; to brag, and stamp, and swear,
Upon my party! Thou cold-blooded slave,
Hast thou not spoke, like thunder on my side?
Been sworn my soldier? bidding me depend
Upon thy stars, thy fortune, and thy strength ?
And dost thou now fall over to my foes?
Thou wear a lion's hide! doff it for shame,
And hang a calf's-skin on those recreant limbs.
Aust. O, that a man should speak those words to me!
Bast. And hang a calf's-skin on those recreant limbs.
Aust. Thou dar'st not say so, villain, for thy life.
Bast. And hang a calf's-skin on those recreant limbs.3
K. John. We like not this; thou dost forget thyself.

[1] O Lymoges! O Austria!] The propriety or impropriety of these titles, which every editor has suffered to pass unnoted, deserves a little consideration. Shakespeare has, on this occasion, followed the old play, which at once furnished him with the character of Faulconbridge, and ascribed the death of Richard L. to the duke of Austria. In the person of Austria, he has conjoined the two wellknown enemies of Cœur-de-lion. Leopold, duke of Austria, threw him into prison, in a former expedition; (in 1193) but the castle of Chaluz, before which he fell (1199) belonged to Vidomar, viscount of Limoges; and the archer who pierced his shoulder with an arrow (of which wound he died) was Bertrand de Gourdon. The editors seem hitherto to have understood Lymoges as being an appendage to the title of Austria, and therefore inquired no further about it. STEEVENS.

[2] When fools were kept for diversion in great families, they were distin guished by a calf's-skin-coat, which had the buttons down the back; and this they wore that they might be known for fools, and escape the resentment of those whom they provoked with their waggeries. This fact will explain the sarcasm of Constance and Faulconbridge, who mean to call Austria a fool.

SIR J. HAWKINS. [3] Here Mr. Pope inserts the following speeches from the old play of King John, printed 1591, before Shakespeare appears to have commenced a writer:

"Aust. Methinks, that Richard's pride, and Richard's fall, Should be a precedent to fright you all.

Faule. What words are these? how do my sinews shake!