So, hence! Be thou the trumpet of our wrath,
And sudden' presage of your own decay.-
An honourable conduct let him have:
Pembroke, look to 't. Farewell, Chatillon.

[Exeunt CHATILLON and PEMBROKE.
Eli. What now, my son? have I not ever said,
How that ambitious Constance would not cease,
Till she had kindled France, and all the world,
Upon the right and party of her son?

This might have been prevented, and made whole,
With very easy arguments of love,

Which now the manage2 of two kingdoms must
With fearful bloody issue arbitrate.

K. John. Our strong possession, and our right for us.
Eli. Your strong possession, much more than your

right,

Or else it must go wrong with you, and me:

So much my conscience whispers in your ear,
Which none but heaven, and you, and I, shall hear.
Enter the Sheriff of Northamptonshire, who whispers
ESSEX.

Essex. My liege, here is the strangest controversy,
• Come from the country to be judg'd by you,
That e'er I heard: shall I produce the men?
K. John. Let them approach.-

Our abbeys, and our priories, shall pay

[Exit Sheriff.

Re-enter Sheriff, with ROBERT FAULCONBRIDGE, and
PHILIP, his bastard Brother.

This expedition's charge.-What men are you?
Bast. Your faithful subject I; a gentleman
Born in Northamptonshire, and eldest son,

As I suppose, to Robert Faulconbridge,
A soldier, by the honour-giving hand
Of Coeur-de-lion knighted in the field.
K. John. What art thou?

Rob. The son and heir to that same Faulconbridge. K. John. Is that the elder, and art thou the heir? You came not of one mother, then, it seems.

Bast. Most certain of one mother, mighty king;
That is well known, and, as I think, one father:
But, for the certain knowledge of that truth,
I put you o'er to heaven, and to my mother:
Of that I doubt, as all men's children may.
A sullen in f. e. a Conduct.

Eli. Out on thee, rude man! thou dost shame thy

mother,

And wound her honour with this diffidence.

Bast. I, madam? no, I have no reason for it: That is my brother's plea, and none of mine; The which if he can prove, 'a pops me out At least from fair five hundred pound a year. Heaven guard my mother's honour, and my land! K. John. A good blunt fellow.-Why, being younger born,

Doth he lay claim to thine inheritance?

Bast. I know not why, except to get the land.
But once he slander'd me with bastardy:
But whe'r I be as true begot, or no,
That still I lay upon my mother's head;
But, that I am as well begot, my liege,
(Fair fall the bones that took the pains for me!)
Compare our faces, and be judge yourself.
If old sir Robert did beget us both,

And were our father, and this son like him,
O! old sir Robert, father, on my knee

I give heaven thanks, I was not like to thee.

K. John. Why, what a madcap hath heaven lent us here!

Eli. He hath a trick of Coeur-de-lion's face;

The accent of his tongue affecteth him.

Do you not read some tokens of my son

In the large composition of this man?

K. John. Mine eye hath well examined his parts, And finds them perfect Richard.-Sirrah, speak; What doth move you to claim your brother's land? Bast. Because he hath a half-face, like my father, With that half-face' would he have all my land: A half-fac'd groat' five hundred pound a year!

Rob. My gracious liege, when that my father liv'd, Your brother did employ my father much.

Bast. Well, sir; by this you cannot get my land:
Your tale must be, how he employ'd my mother.
Rob. And once despatch'd him in an embassy
To Germany, there, with the emperor,

To treat of high affairs touching that time.
The advantage of his absence took the king,

1 Folio: half that face. 2 The groat of Henry VII., with the Sovereign's head in profile, then a new practice, on it.

VOL. IV.-2

And in the mean time sojourn'd at my father's;
Where how he did prevail I shame to speak,
But truth is truth: large lengths of seas and shores
Between my father and my mother lay,
As I have heard my father speak himself,
When this same lusty gentleman was got.
Upon his death-bed he by will bequeath'd
His lands to me; and took it, on his death,
That this, my mother's son, was none of his :
And, if he were, he came into the world
Full fourteen weeks before the course of time.
Then, good my liege, let me have what is mine,
My father's land, as was my father's will.

K. John. Sirrah, your brother is legitimate:
Your father's wife did after wedlock bear him;
And if she did play false, the fault was hers,
Which fault lies on the hazards of all husbands
That marry wives. Tell me, how if my brother
Who, as you say, took pains to get this son,
Had of your father claim'd this son for his?
In sooth, good friend, your father might have kept
This calf, bred from his cow, from all the world;
In sooth, he might: then, if he were my brother's,
My brother might not claim him, nor your father,
Being none of his, refuse him.-This concludes,—
My mother's son did get your father's heir;
Your father's heir must have your father's land.
Rob. Shall, then, my father's will be of no force
To dispossess that child which is not his ?

Bast. Of no more force to dispossess me, sir,

Than was his will to get me, as I think.

Eli. Whether hadst thou rather be a Faulconbridge, And, like thy brother, to enjoy thy land,

Or the reputed son of Cœur-de-lion,

Lord of thy presence, and no land beside?

Bast. Madam, an if my brother had my shape,

And I had his, sir Robert his,' like him;

And if my legs were two such riding-rods,

My arms such eel-skins stuff'd; my face so thin,
That in mine ear I durst not stick a rose,

Lest men should say, "Look, where three-farthings

1 Robert's. 2 A silver coin of Elizabeth, very thin, with a rose at the back of the ear.

And, to his shape, were heir to all this land,
Would I might never stir from off this place,
I'd give it every foot to have this face:
I would not be sir Nob' in any case.

Eli. I like thee well. Wilt thou forsake thy fortune, Bequeath thy land to him, and follow me?

I am a soldier, and now bound to France.

Bast. Brother, take you my land, I'll take my chance.
Your face hath got five hundred pounds a year,
Yet sell your face for five pence, and 't is dear.-
Madam, I'll follow you unto the death.

Eli. Nay, I would have you go before me, thither.
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:

[Bast. kneels and rises."

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.

Eli. The very spirit of Plantagenet !—

I am thy grandame, 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,

1 Head. 2 Not in f. e.

For thou wast got i' the way of honesty.

[Exeunt all but the Bastard.

A foot of honour better than I was,

But many, ah, many foot of land the worse.
Well, now can I make any Joan a lady:-

"Good den1, 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:
'Tis too respective, and too sociable.

For your diversion, now, your traveller,
He and his tooth-pick at my worship's mess;
And when my knightly stomach is suffic'd,
Why then I suck my teeth, and catechize
My picked3 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 ABC-book :-

"O sir," says answer, 66 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 Pyreneans, and the river Po,

It draws toward supper, in conclusion so.
But this is worshipful society,

And fits a 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 husband,
That will take pains to blow a horn before her?

Enter Lady FAULCONBRIDGE and JAMES GURNEY. O me! it is my mother.-How no, good lady!

Evening. Not in general use in England, when the play was written. 3 Spruce, trim.