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Lest men should say “Look, where three-farthings goes!"
And, to his shape, were heir to all this land,
Would I might never stir from off this place,
I would give it every foot to liave this face;
I would not be sir Nob in any case.

Eli. I like thiec well: wilt ihou forsake thy fortune,
Bequeath thy land to him and follow me?
I am a soldier and now bound to France.

150
Bust. Brother, take you my land, I'll take my chance.
Your face hath got five hundred pound a year,
Yct sell your face for five pence and 'tis dear,
Madam, I'll follow you unto the death.

E'i. Nay, I would have you go before mc thither.
Bust. Our country manners give our þetters way.
K. Jo!ın. What is thy name?
Buxt. Philip, my liege, so is my name begun;
Philips, good old sir Robert's wife's eldest son.
K. John. From benceforth bear his name whose form
thou bcar'st:

160
Kneel thou down Philip. but risc more great,
Arise sir Richard and Plantagenet.

Bext. Brother by the mother's side, give me your hand:
My father gave me honour, yours gave land.
Now blessed be the hour, by night

or day, When I was got, sir Robert was away!

Eli. The very spirit of Plantagenci!
I am thy grandam, Richard; call me so.

Bust. Madam, by chance but not by truth; what thougli?
Something about, a little from the right,

170 In at the window, or else o'er the latch: Who dares not stir by day must walk by night,

And have is bave, however men do catch:
Near or far off, well won is still well shot,
And I am I, howe'er I was begot.

K. John. Go, Faulconbridge: now hast thou thy desire;
A landless knight makes thee a landeri squire.
Come, madain, and come, Richard, we must speed
For France, for France, for it is more than need.

Bust. Brother, adicu: good fortune come to thee! 180
For thou wast got i' the way of lionesty.

[Exeunt all but Bastard. A foot of honour better than I was; But many a many foot of land the worse. Well, now can I make any Joan a lady. “Good den, sir Richard !-"God-a-mercy, fellow!"And if his name be George, I'll call bim Peter; For new-made lionour doth forgci men's Dames;

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'Tis too respective and too sociable
For your conversion. Now your traveller,
He and his toothpick at my worship's mess,

190
And when my knightly stomach is sufficed,
Why then I suck my teeth and catechize
My picked man of countries: “My dear sir,”
Thus, leaning on mine elbow, I begin,
“I shall beseech you”-that is question now;
And then comes answer like an Abscy book:
“ () sir,” says answer, “at your best command;
At your employment; at your scrvice, sir:”
"No, sir,” says question, “ I, sweet sir, at yours:”
And so, ere answer knows what question would, 200
Saving in dialogue of compliment,
And ialking of the Alps and Apennincs,
The Pyrenean and the river Po,
It draws toward supper in conclusion so.
But this is worshipful society
And tits the mounting spirit like myself,
For he is but a bastard io the time
That doth not smack of observation;
And so am I, whether I smack or no;
And not alone in habit and device,

210 Exterior form, outward accoutrement, But from the inward motion to deliver Sweet, sweet, sweet poison for the age's tooth: Which, though I will not practise to deceive, Yet, to avoid deceit, I mean to learn; For it shall strew the footsteps of my rising. But who comes in such liaste in riding-robes? What woman-post is this? hath she no husband That will take pains to blow a horn before her?

Enter Lady FAULCOWBRIDGE and JAMES GURNEY. O me! it is my mother. How now, good lady! 220 What brings you here to court so hastily?

Lady F? Where is that slave, thy brother? where is he, That holds in chase mine lionour up and down?

Baxt. My brother Robert? old sir Robert's son?
Colbrand the giant, that same mighty-man?
Is it sir Robert's son that you seck so?

Lady F. Sir Robert's son! Ay, thou unreverend boy,
Sir Robert's son: why scorn'st thou at sir Robert?
He is sir Robert's son, and so art thou.

Bast. James Gurney, wilt thou give us leave awhile? Gur. Good leave, good Philip.

231 Bart

Philip! sparrow: James,

There's toys abroad: anon I'll tell thee more.

[Exit Gurney.
Madain, I was not old sir Robert's son:
Sir Robert might have eat his part in me
Upon Good Friday and ne'er broke his fast:
Sir Robert could do well: marry, to confess,
Could he get me? Sir Robert could not do it:
We know his handiwork: therefore, good mother,
To whom am I beholding for these limbs?
Sir Robert never holp to make this leg.

240
Lady F. Hast thou conspired with thy brother too,
That for thine own gain shouldst defend minc honour?
What means this scorn, thou most untoward knave?

Bust. Knight, knight, good mother, Basilisco-like.
What! I am dubb'd! I have it on my shoulder.
But, mother, I am not sir Robert's son;
I have disclaim'd sir Robert and my land;
Legitimation, name and all is gone:
Then, good my mother, let me know my father;
Some proper man, I hope: who was it, mother? 250

Lady F. Hast thou denied thyself a Faulconbridge?
Bast. As faithfully as I deny the devil.

Indy F. King Richard Caur-de-lion was thy father:
By long and vehement suit I was seduced
To make room for him in my husband's bed:
Heaven lay not my transgression to my charge!
Thou art the issue of my dear offence,
Which was so strongly urged past my defence.

Bast. Now, by this light, were I to get again,
Madam, I would not wish a better father.

260
Some sins do bear their privilege on earth,
And so doth yours; your fault was not your folly:
Needs must you lay your heart at his dispose,
Subjected tribute to commanding love,
Against whose fury and unmatched force
The aweless lion could not wage the fight,
Nor keep his princely heart from Richard's hand.
He that perforce robs lions of their hearts
May easily win a woman's. Ay, my mother,
With all my heart I thank thee for my father! 270
Who lives and dares but say thou didst not well
When I was got, I'll send his soul to hell.
Come, lady, I will show thee to my kin;

And they shall say, when Richard me begot,
If thou hadst said him nay, it had been sin:
Who says it was, he lies; I say 'twas not.

[Ereunt.

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ACT II.

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SCENE I. France. Before Angiers. Enter AUSTRIA and forces, drums, etc. on one side: on the

other King PuIlir of France and his power; LEWIS, ARTHUR, CONSTANCE and attendants,

Leu. Before Angiers well met, brave Austria.
Arthur, that great forerunner of thy blood,
Richard, that robb'd the lion of his heart
And fought the holy wars in Palestine,
By this brave duke came carly to his grave:
And for amends to his posterity,
At our importance hither is he come,
To spread his colours, boy, in thy behalf,
And to rebuke the usurpation
Of thy unnatural uncle, English John:

10 Embrace him, love him, give him welcomc hither.

Arth. God shall forgive you Caur-de-lion's death
Tbe rather that you give his offspring life.
Shadowing their right under your wings of war:
I give you welcome with a powerless land,
But with a heart full of unstained lovc:
Welcome before the gates of Angiers, duke.

Lew. A noble boy! Who would not do thee right?

Aust. Upon thy cheek lny I this zealous kiss, As seal to iliis indenture of my love,

20 That to my home I will no more return, Till Angiers and the right thou hast in France, Together with that pale, that white-faced shore, Whose foot spurus back the ocean's roaring tides And coops from other lands ber islanders, Even till that England, hedged in with the main, That water-walled bulwark, still secure And confident from foreign purposes, Even till that utmost corner of the west Salute thee for her king: till then, fair boy,

30 Will I not think of home, but follow arms.

Const. O, take his mother's thanks, a widow's thanks, Till your strong hand shall help to give him strength To make a more requital to your love! Aust. The peace of heaven is theirs that lift their

swords In such a just and charitable war.

K. Phi. Well then, to work: our cannon shall be bent Against the brows of this resisting town.

Call for our chiefest men of discipline,
To call the plots of best advantages:

40
We'll lay before this town our royal bones,
Wade to the market-place in Frenchmen's blood,
But we will make it subject to this boy.

Const. Stay for an answer to your embassy,
Lest unadvised you stain your swords with blood:
My Lord Chatillon may from Eugland bring
That right in peace which here we urge in war,
And then we shall repent each drop of blood
That hot rash haste so indirectly shed.

Enter CHATILLON.
K. Phi. A wonder, lady! lo, upon thy wish,

50
Our messenger Chatillon is arrived!
What England says, say briefly, gentle lord;
We coldly pause for thee; Chatillon, speak.

Chat. Then turn your forces from this paltry siege.
And stir thein up against a mightier task.
England, impatient of your just demands,
Hath put bimself in arms: the adverse winds,
Whose leisure I have stay'd, have given him time
To land his legions all as soon as I;
His marches are expedient to this town,

60
His forces strong, his saliers confident.
With him along is come the mother-queen,
An Ate, stirring him to blood and strife;
With her her niece, the Lady Blanch of Spain;
With them a bastard of the king's deceased;
And all the upsettled humours of the land,
Raslı, inconsiderate, fiery voluntaries,
With ladies' faces and tierce dragons' spleens,
Have sold their fortunes at their native homes,
Bearing their birthrights proudly on their backs, 70
To make a hazard of new fortunes here:
In brief, a braver choice of dauntless spirits
Than now the English bottoms have waft o'er
Did never float upon the swelling tide,
To do offence and scath in Christendom. [Drum bcats.
The interruption of their churlish drums
Cuts off more circumstance: they are at hand,
To parley or to fight; therefore prepare.

K. Phi. How much unlook'd for is this expedition! Aust. By how much unexpected, by so much 80 We must awake endeavour for defence; For courage mounteth with occasion: Let them be welcome then; we are prepared.

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