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Faulc. Hang nothing but a calve's-fkin, most sweet
K. Philip. I am perplext, and know not what to fay.
If thou ftand excommunicate and curft ?
K. Philip. Good rev'rend father; make my perfon
And tell me how you would bestow yourself.
My reverend father, let it not be fo;
? So ftrong in both.] I believe the meaning is, were fo firong in both parties.
To do your pleasure, and continue friends.
Therefore, to arms! be champion of our Church!
France, thou may'ft hold a ferpent by the tongue,
A fafting tyger fafer by the tooth,
Than keep in peace that hand, which thou doft hold.
Thy tongue against thy tongue. O, let-thy vow
For that, which thou haft fworn to do amifs,
* Is't not amifs, when it is truly done?
And being hot done, where doing tends to ill,
Is to mistake again; tho' indirect,
Yet indirection thereby grows direct,
And falfhood falfhood cures; as fire cools fire,
• But what thou haft fworn against religion:
But what thou fwear'ft, against the thing thou fwear'st:
And mak'st an oath the furety for thy truth, Against an oath. The truth thou art unfure To fwear, fwear only not to be forfworn;
fhew his skill in cafuiftry; and the ftrange heap of quibble and nonfenfe of which it confifts, was intended to ridicule that of the fchools. For when he affumes the politician, at the conclufion of the third act, the author makes him talk at another rate. I mean in that beautiful paffage where he speaks of the mifchiefs following the King's lofs of his fubjects hearts. This conduct is remarkable, and was intended, I fuppofe, to fhew us how much better politicians the Roman courtiers are, than divines. WARBURTON,
I am not able to discover here any thing inconfequent or ridicu loufly fubtle. The propofitions that the voice of the church is the voice of heaven, and that the Pope utters the voice of the church, neither of which Pandulph's auditors would deny, being once granted, the argument here ufed is irrefiftible; nor is it eafy, notwithstanding the gingle, to enforce it with greater brevity or propriety. 3
But thou haft fworn against re-
By what thou fwear'ft, against
To fwear, fwear only not to be forfworn.] By what. Sir T. Hanmer reads, by that. I think it fhould be rather by
And mak't an oath the Surety
Against an oath; this truth
Dr. Warburton writes it thus, Again an oath the truth thou art unfure which leaves the paffage to me as obfcure as before.
I know not whether there is any corruption beyond the omiffion of a point. The fenfe, after I had confidered it, appeared to me only this: In fearing by religion against religion, to which thou hast already fworn, thou makest an oath the fecurity for thy faith against an oath already taken. I will give, fays he, a rule for confcience in thefe cafes. Thou mayft be in doubt about the matter of an oath; when thou fweareft thou may not be always fure to fwear righlty, but let this be thy fettled principle, far only not to be forfworn; let not thy latter oaths be at variance with thy former.
Truth, through this whole fpeech, means rectitude of conduct.
Elfe what a mockery fhould it be to fwear?
And better conqueft never canft thou make,
So heavy, as thou shalt not shake them off;
Faulc. Will't not be?
Will not a calve's-fkin ftop that mouth of thine?
Blanch. Upon thy wedding day?
Against the blood that thou haft married?
Against mine uncle.
Conft. O, upon my knee,
Made hard with kneeling, I do pray to thee,
Blanch. Now fhall I fee thy love; what motive may
Conft. That which upholdeth him, that thee upholds, His honour. Oh, thine honour, Lewis, thine ho
Lewis. I mufe, your Majesty doth feem fo cold, When fuch profound refpects do pull you on?
Pand. I will denounce a curfe upon his head.
Conft. O fair return of banish'd Majesty!
Eli. O foul revolt of French inconftancy!
K. John. France, thou shalt rue this hour within this hour.
Faul. Old time the clock-fetter, that bald fexton time,
Is it, as he will? well then, France shall rue.
Blanch. The fun's o'ercaft with blood: fair day, adieu!
Which is the fide that I must go withal?
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 heat hath this condition
That nothing can allay, nothing but blood,
K. Phil. Thy rage fhall burn thee up, and thou
To afhes, ere our blood fhall quench that fire:
K. John. No more than he that threats. To arms,