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, Lest men should say, 'Look, where three-farthings goes,' And, to his shape, were heir to all this land, I would not be Sir Nob in any case. tune, Wilt thou forsake thy for 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 'tis 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 [a]rise more great; Bast. Brother, by th' mother's side, give me your hand : My father gave me honour, yours gave land. 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: 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' th' 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-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 conversion. Now your traveller, Thus, leaning on mine elbow, I begin, - 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. And fits the mounting spirit, like myself; Sweet, sweet, sweet poison for the age's tooth: Enter Lady FAULCONBRIDGE and JAMES GURNEY. O me! it is my mother. How now, good lady! What brings you here to Court so hastily? Lady Faulconbridge. 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 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 a while? Gurney. 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 never holp to make this leg. Lady F. Hast thou conspired with thy brother, too, That for thine own gain should'st defend mine hon our ? 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. I have disclaim'd Sir Robert and my land : Then, good my mother, let me know my father, Bast. As faithfully as I deny the Devil. Lady F. King Richard Coeur-de-lion was thy fa ther. By long and vehement suit I was seduc'd To make room for him in my husband's bed. - 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 again, 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: And they shall say, when Richard me begot, ACT II. SCENE I. - France. Before the Walls of Angiers. Enter, on one side, PHILIP, King of France, Louis, CONSTANCE, ARTHUR, and Attendants, and Forces; on the other, the Archduke of AUSTRIA, and Forces. LOUIS. EFORE Angiers well met, brave Austria.. blood, |