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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 bear'st. Kneel thou down, Philip, but to rise more great.
[Bast. kneels. Arise Sir Richard, and Plantagenet. Bast. Brother, by the mother's side, give me your
Eli. The very spirit of Plantagenet!
In at the window, or else o'er the hatch.
And have is have, however men do catch.
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 the 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-u-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 conversion. Now your traveller,He and his toothpick at my worship’s mess;
And when my knightly stomach is suffic'd,
Enter LADY FAULCONBRIDGE and JAMES GURNEY.
is he, That holds in chase mine honour up and down?
Bast. My brother Robert? old Sir Robert's son? Colbrand the giant, that same mighty man? Is it Sir Robert's son, that you seek 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?
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. Sir Robert could do well; marry, to confess the
truth, Could he get me ?-Sir Robert could not do it; We know his handy-work. Therefore, good mother, To whom am I beholden 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 should'st defend mine honour? What means this scorn, thou most untoward knave?
Bast. 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?
Lady F. Hast thou denied thyself a Faulconbridge ? Bast. As faithfully as I deny the Devil.
Lady F. King Richard Caur-de-lion was thy father.
Bust. Now, by this light, were I to get again,
And so doth yours; your fault was not your folly.
And they shall say, when Richard me begot,
ACT II. SCENE I. France. Before the Walls of Angiers. Enter, on one side, the Archduke of Austria, and Forces;
on the other, Philip, King of France, and Forces; Lewis, CONSTANCE, ARTHUR, and Attendants.
Lewis. FISHEFORE Angiers well met, brave Austria.
y Arthur, that great forerunner of thy blood, 9 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 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 Caur-de-lion's death, The rather that you give his offspring life, Shadowing their right under your wings of war. 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 tides, 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 hoy, Will I not think of home, but follow arms. Const. Oh! 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 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 Chatillion may from England bring That right in peace, which here we urge in war;