K. Joh. From henceforth bear his name, whofe form `thou bear'ft:

Kneel thou down Philip, but rife up more great;
Arife Sir Richard, and Plantagenet.

Phil. Brother by th' mother's fide, give me your
hand;

My father gave me honour, yours gave land.
Now bleffed be the hour, by night or day,
When I was got, Sir Robert was away!
Eli. The very fpirit of Plantagenet!
I am thy grandam; Richard, call me fo.

Phil. Madam, by chance, but not by truth; what though?

Something about, a little from the right,

In at the window, or else o'er the hatch :
Who dares not ftir by day, muft walk by night,
And have is have, however men do catch;

Near or far off, well won is ftill well fhot;
And I am I, howe'er I was begot.

K. John. Go, Faulconbridge, now haft thou thy de

fire;

A landless Knight makes thee a landed 'Squire : Come, Madam; and come, Richard; we must speed For France, for France; for it is more than need. Phil. Brother, adieu; good fortune come to thee, For thou was got i'th' way of honesty.

[Exeunt all but Philip.

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,- -Godamercy, fellow;
And if his name be George, I'll call him Peter;
For new-made honour doth forget mens' names :
'Tis too refpective and unsociable

For your converfing. Now your traveller,
He and his tooth-pick at my worship's mess;
And when my knightly ftomach is fuffic'd,
Why then I fuck my teeth, and catechife
My picqued man of countries;- -My dear Sir,
(Thus leaning on mine elbow, I begin)

I fhall befeech you, -that is queftion now;
And then comes anfwer like an ABC-book:
O Sir, fays answer, at your best command,
At your employment, at your fervice, Sir:
No, Sir, fays queftion, I, fweet Sir, at yours,
And fo e'er answer knows what question would,
Saving in dialogue of compliment;

And talking of the Alps and Apennines,
The Pyrenean and the river Po;

It draws towards fupper in conclufion, fo.
But this is worshipful fociety,

And fits the mounting fpirit like myself:
For he is but a baftard to the time,
That doth not fmack of obfervation;
(And fo am I, whether I fmack or no :)
And not alone in habit and device,
Exterior form, outward accoutrement;
But from the inward motion to deliver
Sweet, fweet, fweet poifon for the age's tooth
Which tho' I will not practife to deceive,
Yet, to avoid deceit, I mean to learn;
For it fhall ftrew the footsteps of my rifing.
But who comes in fuch hafte, in riding robes?
What woman-poft is this? hath she no husband,
That will take pains to blow a horn before her?
O me! it is my mother; now, good lady,
What brings you here to court fo hastily ?

Enter Lady Faulconbridge, and James Gurney.
Lady. Where is that flave, thy brother? where is he,
That holds in chafe mine honour up and down?
Phil. My brother Robert, old Sir Robert's fon,
Colbrand the giant, that fame mighty man,.
Is it Sir Robert's fon, that you feek fo?

Lady. Sir Robert's fon? ay, thou unrev'rend boy, Sir Robert's fon: why fcorn't thou at Sir Robert? He is Sir Robert's fon; and fo art thou.

Phil. James Gurney, wilt thou give us leave a while ? Gur. Good leave, good Philip.

-fpare me, James; (4) There's toys abroad; anon I'll tell thee more.

Phil. Philip!

[Exit James

Madam, I was not old Sir Robert's fon,
Sir Robert might have eat his part in me
Upon Good-Friday, and ne'er broke his faft:
Sir Robert could do well; marry, confess!
Could he get me? Sir Robert could not do it ;
We knew his handy-work; therefore, good mother,
To whom am I beholden for these limbs?
Sir Robert never holpe to make this leg.

Lady. Haft thou confpir'd with thy brother too,

That, for thine own gain, should'st defend mine honour ? What means this scorn, thou most untoward knave ? Phil. Knight, Knight, good mother

like. (5)

Bafilifco

What!

(4)

Philip, fparrow, James.] Thus the old Copies; and Mr. Pope has attempted to glofs this Reading by telling us, that Philip is the common Name for a tame Sparrow. So that then Faulconbridge would fay, Call me Philip? You may as well call me Sparrow. -The Allufion is very mean and trifling: and every Body, I believe, will chufe to embrace Mr. Warburton's Emendation, which I have inferted into the Text. Spare me, and Forbear me, it may be observed, are our Author's ac custom'd Phrases; either when any one wants another to leave him, or would be rid of a difpleafing Subject. (s) Knight, Knight, good Mother, Bafilifco like.] Thus muft this Paffage be pointed; and, to come at the Humour of it, I muft clear up an old Circumftance of Stage-History. Faulconbridge's Words here carry a conceal'd Piece of Satire on a ftupid Drama of that Age, printed in 1599, and call'd Soliman and Perfeda. In this piece there is the Character of a bragging cowardly Knight, call'd Bafilifco. His Pretenfion to Valour is fo blown and feen thro', that Pifton, a Buffoon-fervant in the Play, jumps upon his Back, and will not difengage him, till he makes Bafilifco fwear upon his dudgeon Dagger to the Contents, and in the Terms, he dictates to him: as, for Inftance. Baf. O, I fwear, I swear.

Pift. By the Contents of this Blade,
Baf. By the Contents of this Blade,

What! I am dub'd; I have it on my fhoulder:
But, mother, I am not Sir Robert's fon;
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?
Lady. Haft thou deny'd thy felf a Faulconbridge?
Pil. As faithfully, as I deny the devil.

Lady. King Richard Coeur-de-lion was thy father
By long, and vehement, fuit I was feduc'd
To make room for him in my husband's bed.
Heav'n lay not my tranfgreffion to my charge!
Thou art the iffue of my dear offence,
Which was fo ftrongly urg'd paft my defence.
Phil. Now, by this light, were I to get again,
Madam, I would not with a better father.
Some fins do bear their privilege on earth,
And fo doth yours; your fault was not your folly;
Needs muft you lay your heart at his dispose,
Subjected tribute to commanding love;
Againft whofe fury, and unmatched force,
The awless lion could not wage the fight;
Nor keep his princely heart from Richard's hands.
He, that perforce robs lions of their hearts,
May eafily win a woman's. Ay, my mother,
With all my heart I thank thee for my father.
Who lives and dares but fay, thou didst not well
When I was got, I'll fend his foul to hell.

Pift. I, the aforesaid Bafilifco,
Baf. 1, the aforesaid Bafilifco,

Knight, good fellow, knight, knight,

Pift. Knave, good fellow, knave, knave,

So that'tis clear, our Poet is fneering at this Play; and makes Philip, when his Mother calls him Knave, throw off that Reproach by humourously laying claim to his new Dignity of Knighthood; as Bafilifco arrogantly infifts on his Title of Knight in the Paffage above quoted. The old Play is an execrable bad one; and, I fuppofe, was fufficiently exploded in the Reprefentation: which might make this Circumstance so well known, as to become the Butt for a Stage-Sarcasm.

Come,

Come, lady, I will fhew thee to my kin,
And they fhall fay, when Richard me begot,

If thou hadft faid him nay, it had been fin;

Who fays, it was, helyes; I fay, 'twas not. [Exeunt.

ACT II.

SCENE, before the Walls of Angiers in France.

Enter Philip King of France, Lewis the Dauphin, the Archduke of Auftria, Conftance, and Arthur.

LEWIS.

EFORE Angiers well met, brave Auftria.
Arthur! that great fore-runner of thy blood.
Richard, that robb'd the lion of his heart,
And fought the holy wars in Palestine,
By this brave Duke came early to his grave:
And for amends to his pofterity,

At our importance hither is he come,
To fpread his colours, boy, in thy behalf;
And to rebuke the ufurpation

Of thy unnatural uncle, English John.

Embrace him, love him, give him welcome hither.
Arth. God fhall forgive you Coeur-de- lion's death
The rather, that you give his off-spring life;
Shadowing their right under your wings of war.
I give you welcome with a pow'rlefs hand,
But with a heart full of unftained love:
Welcome before the gates of Angiers, Duke.

Lewis. A noble boy! who would not do thee right?
Auft. Upon thy cheek lay I this zealous kifs,
As feal to this indenture of my love;
That to my home I will no more return,
Till Angiers and the right thou haft in France,

Togethe