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Bast. Our country manners give our betters

way. K. John. What is thy name? Bast. Philip, my liege, so is my name begun; Philip, good old Sir Robert's wife's eldest son. K. John. From henceforth bear his name

whose form thou bearest.
Kneel thou down Philip, but arise more great,
Arise Sir Richard and Plantagenet.
Bast. 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!

El. The very spirit of Plantagenet !
I am thy grandam, Richard ; call me so.
Bast. 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 stir by day must walk by night,

And have is have, 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 landed squire. Come, madam, and come, Richard, we must

speed For France, for France, for it is more than need. Bast. Brother, adieu ; good fortune come to

thee! For thou wast got i' the way of honesty.

[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 him Peter; For new-made honour doth forget men's names; 'T is 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 suffic'd, Why then I suck my teeth and catechise 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 Absey book. “O sir," says answer, at your best command ; At your employment; at your service, sir." No, sir," says question, “I, sweet sir, at

yours.' And so, ere

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 toward supper in conclusion so. But this is worshipful society. And fits the mounting spirit like myself, For he is but a bastard to the time That doth not smack of observation. And so am I, whether I smack or no; And not alone in habit and device,

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 haste in riding-robes ?
What woman-post is this? Hath she no hus-

band That will take pains to blow a horn before her? Enter LADY FAULCONBRIDGE and JAMES

GURNEY. O me! 't is my mother. How now, good lady! What brings you here to court so hastily ? Lady F. Where is that slave, thy brother ?

Where is he, That holds in chase mine honour up and down?

Bast. My brother Robert ? Old Sir Robert's Colbrand the giant, that same mighty man ? 225 Is it Sir Robert's son that you seek so ? Lady F. Sir Robert's son! Ay, thou un

reverend boy, Sir Robert's son. Why scorn'st thou at Sir

Robert ? He is Sir Robert's son, and so art thou. Bust. James Gurney, wilt thou give us leave

a while ? Gur. Good leave, good Philip. Bast.

Philip! sparrow! James, There's toys abroad ; anon I 'll tell thee more.

[Exit Gurney. Madam, 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. 236 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. Lady F. Hast thou conspired with thy

brother too, That for thine own gain shouldst defend mine

honour? What means this scorn, thou most untoward

knave? Bast. Knight, knight, good mother, Basi

lisco-like. What! I am dubb'd! I have it on my shoul

der. 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? Lady F. Hast thou denied thyself a Faulcon

bridge ? Bast. As faithfully as I deny the devil. Lady F. King Richard Cæur-de-lion was

thy father. By long and vehement suit I was seduc'd To make room for him in my husband's




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Heaven lay not my transgression to my charge !
Thou art the issue of my dear offence,
Which was so strongly urg'd past my defence.
Bast. Now, by this light, were I to get

Madam, I would not wish a better father.
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! 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. 275 Who says it was, he lies; I say 't was not.



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And coops from other lands her islanders,
Even till that England, hedg'd 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,
Will I not think of home, but follow arms.
Const. O, take his mother's thanks, a wid-

ow'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 cull the plots of best advantages. 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 unadvis'd you stain your swords with

blood. My Lord Chatillon may from England 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, Our messenger Chatillon is arriv'd! 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 them up against a mightier task. England, impatient of your just demands, Hath put himself 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, His forces strong, his soldiers 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 deceas'd ; es And all the unsettled humours of the land, Rash, inconsiderate, fiery voluntaries With'ladies' faces and fierce dragons' spleens, Have sold their fortunes at their native homes, Bearing their birthrights proudly on their

backs, 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, The interruption of their churlish drums Cuts off more circumstance. They are at hand,

[Drum beats. To parley or to fight; therefore prepare.


(ACT II] SCENE (I. France.] Before Angiers. Enter AUSTRIA (and forces, drums, etc., on one

side : on the other) King PHILIP of France (and his power] ; LEWIS, ARTHUR, ConSTANCE (and attendants). Lew. Before Angiers well met, brave Aus

tria. 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 early to his grave; o 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. Embrace him, love him, give him welcome

hither. Arth. God shall forgive you Cœur-de-lion's

death The rather that you give his offspring life, Shadowing their right under your wings of I give you welcome with a powerless hand, But with a heart full of unstained love. Welcome before the gates of Angiers, Duke. Lew. A noble boy! Who would not do thee

right? Aust. "Upon thy cheek lay I this zealous kiss As seal to this indenture of my love That to my home I will no more return Till Angiers and the right thou hast in France, Together with that pale, that white-fac'd

shore, Whose foot spurns back the ocean's roaring





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K. Phi. How much unlook'd for is this ex

pedition ! Aust. By how much unexpected, by so

We must awake endeavour for defence,
For courage mounteth with occasion.
Let them be welcome then; we are prepar'd.

BASTARD, PEMBROKE, and others.
K. John. Peace be to France, if France in

peace permit Our just and lineal entrance to our own; If not, bleed France, and peace ascend to hea

ven, Whiles we, God's wrathful agent, do correct Their proud contempt that beats His peace to

heaven. K. Phi. Peace be to England, if that war re

turn From France to England, there to live in

peace. England we love; and for that England's sake With burden of our armour here we sweat. This toil of ours should be a work of thine ; But thou from loving England art so far, That thou hast under-wrought his lawful

king, Cut off the sequence of posterity, Out-faced infant state, and done a rape Upon the maiden virtue of the crown. Look here upon thy brother Geoffrey's face. These eyes, these brows, were moulded out of This little abstract doth contain that large Which died in Geoffrey ; and the hand of Time Shall draw this brief into as huge a volume, That Geoffrey was thy

elder brother born, And this his son ; England was Geoffrey's

right, And this is Geoffrey's : in the name of God How comes it then that thou art call'd a king, When living blood doth in these temples beat, Which owe the crown that thou o'ermaster

est? K. John. From whom hast thou this great

commission, France, To draw my answer from thy articles ? K. Phi. From that supernal judge, that stirs

good thoughts In any breast of strong authority, To look into the blots

and stains of right. That judge hath made me guardian to this

boy; Under whose warrant I impeach thy wrong And by whose help I mean to chastise it. K. John. Alack, thou dost usurp authority. K. Phi. Excuse; it is to beat usurping

down, El. Who is it thou dost call usurper,

France ?
Const. Let me make answer; thy usurping
El. Out, insolent! thy bastard shall be king
That thou mayst be a queen, and check the

Const. My bed was ever to thy son as true



As thine was to thy husband ; and this boy 125
Liker in feature to his father Geoffrey
Than thou and John in manners, being as like
As rain to water, or devil to his dam.
My boy a bastard ! By my soul, I think
His father never was so true begot.
It cannot be, an if thou wert his mother.
El. There's a good mother, boy, that blots

thy father. Const. There's a good grandam, boy, that

would blot thee.
Aust. Peace !
Bast. Hear the crier.

What the devil art thou ? Bast. One that will play the devil, sir, with

you, An 'a may catch your hide and you alone. You are the hare of whom the proverb goes, Whose valour plucks dead lions by the beard. I'll smoke your skin-coat, an I catch you

right. Sirrah, look to 't; i' faith, I will, i' faith. 140 Blanch. O, well did he become that lion's

robe, That did disrobe the lion of that robe !

Bast. It lies as sightly on the back of him As great Alcides' shows upon an ass. But, ass, I'll take that burden from your

back, Or lay on that shall make your shonlders crack. Aust. What cracker is this same that deafs

our ears With this abundance of superfluous breath? King Philip, determine what we shall do

straight. K. Phi. Women and fools, break off your

conference. King John, this is the very sum of all: England and Ireland, Anjou, Touraine, Maine, In right of Arthur do I claim of thee. Wilt thou resign them and lay down thy arms ? K. John. My life as soon. I do defy thee,

France. Arthur of Bretagne, yield thee to my hand, And out of my dear love I'll give thee more Than e'er the coward hand of France can win, Submit thee, boy. El.

Come to thy grandam, child. Const. Do, child, go to it grandam, child ; 160 Give grandam kingdom, and it grandam will Give it a plum, a cherry, and a fig. There's a good grandam. Arth.

Good my mother, peace. I would that I were low laid in my grave; I am not worth this coil that 's made for me. El. His mother shames him so, poor boy, he

weeps. Const. Now shame upon you, whe'er she

does or no! His grandam's wrongs, and not his mother's

shames, Draws those heaven-moving pearls from his

poor eyes, Which Heaven shall take in nature of a fee ; 170 Ay, with these crystal beads Heaven shall be

brib'd To do him justice and revenge on you.












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El. Thou monstrous slanderer of heaven and to save unscratch'd your city's threat'ned earth!

cheeks, Const. Thou monstrous injurer of heaven Behold, the French amaz'd vouchsafe a parle ; and earth,

And now, instead of bullets wrapp'd in fire, Call not me slanderer ! Thou and thine usurp To make a shaking fever in your walls, The dominations, royalties, and rights

They shoot but calm words folded up in smoke, Of this oppressed boy. This is thy eldest son's To make a faithless error in your ears ; son,

Which trust accordingly, kind citizens, Infortunate in nothing but in thee.

And let us in, your king, whose labour'd spirits, Thy sins are visited in this poor child ;

Forwearied in this action of swift speed, The canon of the law is laid on him,

Crave harbourage within your city walls. Being but the second generation

K. Phi. When I have said, make answer to Removed from thy sin-conceiving womb.

us both. K. John. Bedlam, have done.

Lo, in this right hand, whose protection Const.

I have but this to say, Is most divinely vow'd upon the right That he is not only plagued for her sin,

Of him it holds, stands young Plantagenet, But God hath made her sin and her the plague Son to the elder brother of this man, On this removed issue, plagued for her

And king o'er him and all that he enjoys. And with her plague; her sin his injury, For this down-trodden equity, we tread Her injury the beadle to her sin,

In warlike march these greens before your All punish'd in the person of this child,

town, And all for her. A plague upon her !

Being no further enemy to you
El. Thou unadvised scold, I can produce Than the constraint of hospitable zeal
A will that bars the title thy son.

In the relief of this oppressed child Const. Ay, who doubts that? A will! a Religiously provokes. Be pleased then wicked will ;

To pay that duty which you truly owe A woman's will ; a cank’red grandam's will ! To him that owes it, namely this young prince : K. Phi. Peace, lady! pause, or be more And then our arms, like to a muzzled bear, temperate.

Save in aspect, hath all offence seal'd up: It ill beseems this presence to cry aim

Our cannons' malice vainly shall be spent To these ill-tuned repetitions.

Against the invulnerable clouds of heaven; Some trumpet summon hither to the walls And with a blessed and unvex'd retire, These men of Angiers. Let us hear them speak With unhack'd swords and helmets all unWhose title they admit, Arthur's or John's. 200

bruis'd, Trumpet sounds. Enter a CITIZEN upon the

We will bear home that lusty blood again

Which here we came to spout against your walls (attended).

town, Cit. Who is it that hath warn'd us to the And leave your children, wives, and you in walls ?

peace. K. Phi. 'T is France, for England.

But if you fondly pass our proffer'd offer, K. John.

England, for itself. 'Tis not the roundure of your old-fac'd walls You men of Angiers, and my loving sub- Can hide you from our messengers of war, jects,

Though all these English and their discipline K. Phi. You loving men of Angiers, Ar- Were harbour'd in their rude circumference. thur's subjects,

Then tell us, shall your city call us lord, Our trumpet

cali'd you to this gentle parle - In that behalf which we have challeng'd it? K. John. For our advantage; therefore hear Or shall we give the signal to our rage us first.

And stalk in blood to our possession ? These flags of France, that are advanced here Cit. In brief, we are the King of England's Before the eye and prospect of your town,

subjects. Have hither march'd to your endamagement. For him, and in his right, we hold this town. The cannons have their bowels full of wrath, 210 K. John. Acknowledge then the King, and And ready mounted are they to spit forth

let me in. Their iron indignation 'gainst your walls.

Cit. That can we not; but he that proves All preparation for a bloody siege

the King, And merciless proceeding by these French To him will we prove loyal. Till that time Confronts your city's eyes, your winking gates ; Have we ramm'd up our gates against the And but for our approach those sleeping stones,

world. That as a waist doth girdle you about,

K. John. Doth not the crown of England By the compulsion of their ordinance

prove the King ? By this time from their fixed beds of lime And if not that, I bring you witnesses, Had been dishabited, and wide havoc made 220 Twice fifteen thousand hearts of England's For bloody power to rush upon your peace.

breed, But on the sight of us your lawful king,

Bast. Bastards, and else. Who painfully with much expedient march K. John. To verify our title with their lives. Have brought a countercheck before your K. Phi. As many and as well-born bloods as gates,




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Bast. Some bastards too.
K. Phi. Stand in his face to contradict his

claim. Cit. Till you compound whose right is wor

thiest We for the worthiest hold the right for both. K. John. Then God forgive the sin of all

those souls That to their everlasting residence, Before the dew of evening fall, shall fleet In dreadful trial of our kingdom's king! K. Phi. Amen, amen! Mount, chevaliers !

To arms! Bast. Saint George, that swinged the dragon,

and e'er since Sits on his horseback at mine hostess' door, Teach us some fence! [To Aust.] Sirrah, were

I at home,
At your den, sirrah, with your lioness,
I would set an ox-head to your lion's hide,
And make a monster of you.

Peace ! no more. Bast. O, tremble, for you hear the lion K. John. Up higher to the plain, where

we'll set forth In best appointment all our regiments. Bast. Speed then, to take advantage of the

field. K. Phi. It shall be so; and at the other hill Command the rest to stand. God and our right!

(Exeunt. Here after excursions, enter the HERALD OF

FRANCE, with trumpets, to the gates. F. Her. You men of Angiers, open wide your

gates, And let young Arthur, Duke of Bretagne, in, Who by the hand of France this day hath made Much work for tears in many an English mother, Whose sons lie scattered on the bleeding ground. Many a widow's husband grovelling lies, Coldly embracing the discoloured earth; And victory, with little loss, doth play Upon the dancing banners of the French, Who are at hand, triumphantly displayed, To enter conquerors and to proclaim Arthur of Bretagne England's king and yours.

Enter ENGLISH HERALD, with trumpet. E. Her. Rejoice, you men of Angiers, ring

your bells, King John, your king and England's, doth ap

proach, Commander of this hot malicious day. Their armours, that march'd hence so silver

Hither return all gilt with Frenchmen's blood.
There stuck no plume in any English crest
That is removed by a staff of France.
Our colours do return in those same hands
That did display them when we first march'd

And, like a jolly troop of huntsmen, come
Our lusty English, all with purpled hands,
Dy'd in the dying slaughter of their foes.
Open your gates and give the victors way.

Cit. Heralds, from off our towers we might

behold, From first to last, the onset and retire Of both your armies, whose equality By our best eyes cannot be censured. Blood hath bought blood and blows have an

swer'd blows; Strength match'd with strength, and power

confronted power. Both are alike ; and both alike we like. One must prove greatest. While they weigh so

even, We hold our town for neither, yet for both. Re-enter the two Kings, with their powers, at sev

eral doors. K. John. France, hast thou yet more blood

to cast away? Say, shall the current of our right run on ? Whose passage, vex'd with thy impediment, Shall leave his native channel and o'erswell With course disturb'd even thy confining shores, Unless thou let his silver water keep A peaceful progress to the ocean. K. Phi. England, thou hast not sav'd one

drop of blood, In this bot trial, more than we of France ; Rather, lost more. And by this hand I swear, That sways the earth this climate overlooks, Before we will lay down our just-borne arms, We'll put thee down, 'gainst whom these arms

we bear, Or add a royal number to the dead, Gracing the scroll that tells of this war's loss With slaughter coupled to the name of kings. Bast. Ha, majesty! how high thy glory

towers, When the rich blood of kings is set on fire! O, now doth Death line his dead chaps with

steel ; The swords of soldiers are his teeth, his fangs; And now he feasts, mousing the flesh of men, In undetermin'd differences of kings. Why stand these royal fronts amazed thus ? Cry, havoc ! kings. Back to the stained field, You equal potents, fiery-kindled spirits ! Then let confusion of one part confirm The other's peace. Till then, blows, blood, and

death! K. John. Whose party do the townsmen yet

admit? K. Phi. Speak, citizens, for England, who's

yonr king ? Cit. The King of England, when we know

the King. K. Phi. Know him in us, that here hold up

his right. K. John. In us, that are our own great deputy, And bear possession of our person here, Lord of our presence, Angiers, and of you.

Cit. A greater power than we denies all this; And till it be undoubted, we do lock Our former scruple in our strong-barr'd gates, Kings of our fear, until our fears, resolv'd, 371 Be by some certain king purg'd and depos'd. Bast. By heaven, these scroyles of Angiers

flout you, kings,


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