No remedy, but you will,-give me the office

To choose you a queen: she shall not be so young
As was your former; but she shall be such

As, walk'd your first queen's ghost, it should take joy
To see her in your arms.

Leon. My true Paulina,

We shall not marry till thou bidd'st us.

Paul. That

Shall be when your first queen's again in breath; Never till then.

Enter a Gentleman,

Gent. One that gives out himself prince Florizel,
Son of Polixenes, with his princess, (she
The fairest I have yet beheld,) desires access
To your high presence.

Leon. What with him? he comes not
Like to his father's greatness: his approach,
So out of circumstance and sudden, tells us

'Tis not a visitation framed, but forced

By need and accident. What train?
Gent. But few,

And those but mean.

Leon. His princess, say you, with him?

Gent. Ay; the most peerless piece of earth, I think, That e'er the sun shone bright on.

Paul. O Hermione,

As every present time doth boast itself
Above a better, gone; so must thy grave

Give way to what's seen now. Sir, you yourself
Have said and writ so, (but your writing now
Is colder than that theme.) "She had not been,
Nor was not to be equall'd;"-thus your verse
Flow'd with her beauty once; 'tis shrewdly ebb'd,
To say you have seen a better.

Yourself, assisted with your honour'd friends, Bring them to our embracement. Still, 'tis strange [Exeunt CLEOMENES, Lords, and Gentlemen.

He thus should steal upon us.

Paul. Had our prince

(Jewel of children) seen this hour, he had pair'd
Well with this lord; there was not full a month
Between their births.

Leon. Prythee, no more; thou know'st
He dies to me again when talk'd of: sure,
When I shall see this gentleman, thy speeches
Will bring me to consider that which may
Unfurnish me of reason.-They are come.—

Re-enter CLEOMENES, with FLORIZEL, PERDITA, and
Attendants.

Your mother was most true to wedlock, prince;
For she did print your royal father off,
Conceiving you were I but twenty-one,
Your father's image is so hit in you,

His very air, that I should call you brother,
As I did him; and speak of something wildly
By us perform'd before. Most dearly welcome!
And your fair princess, goddess!-0, alas!
I lost a couple, that 'twixt heaven and earth
Might thus have stood, begetting wonder, as
You, gracious couple, do! and then I lost
(All mine own folly) the society,
Amity too, of your brave father; whom,
Though bearing misery, I desire my life
Once more to look upon.

Flo. By his command

Have I here touch'd Sicilia; and from him

Give you all greetings that a king, at friend,
Can send his brother: and, but infirmity

(Which waits upon worn times) hath something seized His wish'd ability, he had himself

The lands and waters 'twixt your throne and his

Measured, to look upon you; whom he loves

(He bade me say so) more than all the sceptres, And those that bear them, living.

Leon. O, my brother,

(Good gentleman!) the wrongs I have done thee stir Afresh within me; and these thy offices,

So rarely kind, are as interpreters

Of my behind-hand slackness!--Welcome hither,
As is the spring to the earth. And hath he, too,

Exposed this paragon to the fearful usage
(At least ungentle) of the dreadful Neptune,
To greet a man not worth her pains, much less
The adventure of her person?

Flo. Good my lord,

She came from Libya.

Leon. Where the warlike Smalus,

That noble honour'd lord, is fear'd and loved?

Flo. Most royal Sir, from thence; from him, whose daughter

His tears proclaim'd his, parting with her: thence
(A prosperous south wind friendly) we have cross'd
To execute the charge my father gave me,
For visiting your highness: my best train

I have from your Sicilian shores dismiss'd;
Who for Bohemia bend, to signify

Not only my success in Libya, Sir,
But my arrival, and my wife's, in safety

Here where we are.

Leon. The blessed gods

Purge all infection from our air whilst you
Do climate here! You have a holy father,
A graceful gentleman; against whose person,
So sacred as it is, I have done sin:
For which the heavens, taking angry note,
Have left me issueless; and your father's bless'd
(As he from heaven merits it) with you,
Worthy his goodness. What might I have been,
Might I a son and daughter now have look'd on,
Such goodly things as you?

Enter a Lord.

Lord. Most noble Sir,

That which I shall report will bear no credit,
Were not the proof so nigh. Please you, great Sir,
Bohemia greets you from himself by me;

Desires you to attach his son, who has
(His dignity and duty both cast off)

Fled from his father, from his hopes, and with
A shepherd's daughter.

Leon. Where's Bohemia? speak

Lord. Here in the city; I now came from him. I speak amazedly; and it becomes

My marvel and my message. To your court
Whiles he was hastening (in the chase, it seems,
Of this fair couple) meets he on the way
The father of this seeming lady, and

Her brother, having both their country quitted
With this young prince.

Flo. Camillo has betray'd me;

Whose honour and whose honesty, till now,
Endured all weathers.

Lord. Lay't so to his charge;
He's with the king your father.

Leon. Who? Camillo?

Lord. Camillo, Sir; I spake with him, who now Has these poor men in question. Never saw I Wretches so quake: they kneel, they kiss the earth; Forswear themselves as often as they speak: Bohemia stops his ears, and threatens them With divers deaths in death.

Per. O my poor father!-

The heaven sets spies upon us, will not have Our contract celebrated.

Leon. You are married?

Flo. We are not, Sir; nor are we like to be; The stars, I see, will kiss the valleys first:The odds for high and low's alike.

SCENE II.-The same. Before the Palace.

Enter AUTOLYCUS and a Gentleman. Aut. 'Beseech you, Sir, were you present at this relation?

1 Gent. I was by at the opening of the fardel, heard the old shepherd deliver the manner how he found it: whereupon, after a little amazedness, we were all commanded out of the chamber; only this, methought I heard the shepherd say he found the child.

Aut. I would n ost gladly know the issue of it.

1 Gent. I make a broken delivery of the business;but the changes I perceived in the king and Camillo were very notes of admiration: they seemed almost, with staring on one another to tear the cases of their eyes; there was speech in their dumbness, language in their very gesture; they looked as they had heard of a world ransomed, or one destroyed: a notable passion of wonder appeared in them; but the wisest beholder, that knew no more but seeing, could not say if the importance were joy or sorrow: but in the extremity of the one, it must needs be.

Enter another Gentleman.

Here comes a gentleman, that happily knows more. The news, Rogero?

2 Gent. Nothing but bonfires: the oracle is fulfilled; the king's daughter is found: such a deal of wonder is broken out within this hour, that ballad-makers cannot be able to express it.

Enter a third Gentleman.

Here comes the lady Paulina's steward; he can deliver you more.-How goes it now, Sir? this news, which is called true, is so like an old tale, that the verity of it is in strong suspicion: has the king found his heir?

3 Gent. Most true; if ever truth were pregnant by circumstance: that which you hear you'll swear you see, there is such unity in the proofs. The mantle of queen Hermione; her jewel about the neck of it; the letters of Antigonus, found with it, which they know to be his character; the majesty of the creature, in resemblance of the mother; the affection of nobleness, which nature shews above her breeding,-and many other evidences, proclaim her with all certainty to be the king's daughter. Did you see the meeting of the two kings?

2 Gent. No.

3 Gent. Then you have lost a sight, which was to be seen, cannot be spoken of. There might you have beheld one joy crown another; so, and in such manner, that, it seemed, sorrow wept to take leave of them; for their joy waded in tears. There was casting up of eyes, holding up of hands; with countenance of such distrac tion, that they were to be known by garment, not by favour. Our king, being ready to leap out of himself for joy of his found daughter; as if that joy were now become a loss, cries, "O, thy mother, thy mother!" then asks Bohemia forgiveness; then embraces his son-inlaw; then again worries he his daughter with clipping her; now he thanks the old shepherd, which stands by, like a weather-bitten conduit of many kings' reigns. I never heard of such another encounter, which lames report to follow it, and undoes description to do it.

2 Gent. What, pray you, became of Antigonus, that carried hence the child?

3 Gent. Like an old tale still; which will have matter to rehearse, though credit be asleep, and not an ear open. He was torn to pieces with a bear: this avouches the shepherd's son; who has not only his innocence (which seems much) to justify him, but a handkerchief and rings of his, that Paulina knows.

1 Gent. What became of his bark and his followers? 3 Gent. Wrecked, the same instant of their master's death, and in the view of the shepherd: so that all the instruments which aided to expose the child were even then lost, when it was found. But, O, the noble combat, that, 'twixt joy and sorrow, was fought in Paulina! She had one eye declined for the loss of her husband, another elevated that the oracle was fulfilled; she lifted

the princess from the earth; and so locks her in embracing, as if she would pin her to her heart, that she might no more be i danger of losing.

1 Gent. The digny of this act was worth the audience of kings and princes, for by such was it acted.

3 Gent. One of the prettiest touches of all, and that which angled for mine eyes, (caught the water, though not the fish,) was, when at the relation of the queen's death, with the manner how she came to it, (bravely confessed and lamented by the king,) how attentiveness wounded his daughter; till, from one sign of dolour to another, she did, with an "alas!" I would fain say, bleed tears; for I am sure my heart wept blood. Who was most marble there changed colour; some swooned, all sorrowed: if all the world could have seen it, the woe had been universal.

1 Gent. Are they returned to the court?

3 Gent. No: the princess hearing of her mother's statue, which is in the keeping of Paulina,-a piece many years in doing, and now newly performed by that rare Italian master, Julio Romano; who, had he himself eternity, and could put breath into his work, would beguile nature of her custom, so perfectly he is her ape: he so near to Hermione hath done Hermione, that they say one would speak to her, and stand in hope of answer: thither, with all greediness of affection, are they gone; and there they intend to sup.

2 Gent. I thought she had some great matter there in hand; for she hath privately, twice or thrice a day, ever since the death of Hermione, visited that removed house. Shall we thither, and with our company piece the rejoicing?

1 Gent. Who would be thence, that has the benefit of access? every wink of an eye, some new grace will be born: our absence makes us unthrifty to our knowledge. Let's along. [Exeunt Gentlemen.

Aut. Now, had I not the dash of my former life in me, would preferment drop on my head. I brought the old man and his son aboard the prince; told him I heard them talk of a fardel, and I know not what: but he at that time, over-fond of the shepherd's daughter, (so he then took her to be,) who began to be much sea-sick, and himself little better, extremity of weather continuing, this mystery remained undiscovered. But 'tis all one to me: for had I been the finder-out of this secret, it would not have relished among my other discredits.

Enter Shepherd and Clown.

Here come those I have done good to against my will, and already appearing in the blossoms of their fortune.

Shep. Come, boy; I am past more children, but thy sons and daughters will be all gentlemen born.

Clo. You are well met, Sir. You denied to fight with me this other day, because I was no gentleman born. See you these clothes? say, you see them not, and think me still no gentleman born: you were best say these robes are not gentlemen born. Give me the lie, do; and try whether I am not now a gentleman born.

Aut. I know you are now, Sir, a gentleman born.
Clo. Ay, and have been so any time these four hours.
Shep. And so have I, boy.

Clo. So you have: but I was a gentleman born before my father; for the king's son took me by the hand, and called me brother; and then the two kings called my father brother; and then the prince my brother, and the princess my sister, called my father father; and so we wept, and there was the first gentleman-like tears that ever we shed.

Shep. We may live, son, to shed many more.

Clo. Ay; or else 'twere hard luck, being in so prepos terous estate as we are.

Aut. I humbly beseech you, Sir, to pardon me all the faults I have committed to your worship, and to give me your good report to the prince my master.

Shep. Pr'ythee, son, do; for we must be gentle, now we are gentlemen.

Clo. Thou wilt amend thy life?

Aut. Ay, an it like your good worship.

Clo. Give me thy hand: I will swear to the prince thou art as honest a true fellow as any is in Bohemia. Shep. You may say it, but not swear it.

Clo. Not swear it, now I am a gentleman? Let boors and franklins say it, I'll swear it.

Shep. How if it be false, son?

Clo. If it be ne'er so false, a true gentleman may swear it in the behalf of his friend:-and I'll swear to the prince thou art a tall fellow of thy hands, and that thou wilt not be drunk; but I know thou art no tall fellow of thy hands, and that thou wilt be drunk: but

I'll swear it; and I would thou wouldst be a tall fellow of thy hands.

Aut. I will prove so, Sir, to my bower.

Clo. Ay, by any means prove a tall fellow: if I do not wonder how thou darest venture to be drunk, not being a tall fellow, trust me not-Hark! the kings and the princes, our kindred, are going to see the queen's picture. Come, follow us: we'll be thy good masters. [Exeunt.

SCENE III.-The same. A Room in PAULINA'S House.
Enter LEONTES, POLIXENES, FLORIZEL, PERDITA,
CAMILLO, PAULINA, Lords, and Attendants.
Leon. O grave and good Paulina, the great comfort
That I have had of theel

Paul. What, sovereign Sir,

I did not well, I meant well. All my services
You have paid home; but that you have vouchsafed
With your crown'd brother, and these your contracted
Heirs of your kingdoms, my poor house to visit,
It is a surplus of your grace, which never
My life may last to answer.

Leon. O Paulina,

We honour you with trouble: but we came

To see the statue of our queen: your gallery

Have we pass'd through, not without much content
In many singularities; but we saw not

That which my daughter came to look upon,
The statue of her mother.

Paul. As she lived peerless,

So her dead likeness, I do well believe,
Excels whatever yet you look'd upon,

Or hand of man hath done; therefore I keep it
Lonely, apart. But here it is: prepare

To see the life as lively mock'd, as ever

Still sleep mock'd death; behold! and say 'tis well.

[PAULINA undraws a curtain, and discovers a statue. I like your silence-it the more shews off

Your wonder: but yet speak;-first, you, my liege,
Comes it not something near?

Leon. Her natural posture!

Chide me, dear stone, that I may say, indeed,
Thou art Hermione: or rather, thou art she,

In thy not chiding; for she was as tender
As infancy and grace.-But yet, Paulina,
Hermione was not so much wrinkled; nothing
So aged, as this seems.

Pol. O, not by much.

Paul. So much the more our carver's excellence; Which lets go by some sixteen years, and makes her As she lived now.

Leon. As now she might have done,
So much to my good comfort, as it is
Now piercing to my soul. 0, thus she stood,
Even with such life of majesty, (warm life,

As now it coldly stands,) when first I woo'd her!
I am ashamed: does not the stone rebuke me
For being more Stone than it?-0, royal piece,
There's magic in thy majesty; which has
My evils conjured to remembrance; and
From thy admiring daughter took the spirits,
Standing like stone with thee!

Per. And give me leave;

And do not say 'tis superstition, that

I kneel, and then implore her blessing.-Lady,

Dear queen, that ended when I but began,
Give me that hand of yours to kiss.

Paul. O, patience;

[Music.

Paul. Music; awake her: strike!-
'Tis time; descend; be stone no more: approach;
Strike all that look upon with marvel. Come;
I'll fill your grave up: stir; nay, come away;
Bequeath to death your numbness, for from him
Dear life redeems you. You perceive, she stirs :
[HERMIONE comes down from the pedestal.
Start not: her actions shall be holy, as
You hear my spell is lawful: do not shun her,
Until you see her die again; for then

You kill her double. Nay, present your hand:
When she was young, you woo'd her; now, in age,
Is she become the suitor.

Paul. That she is living,

Were it but told you, should be hooted at Like an old tale; but it appears she lives, Though yet she speak not.

Mark a little while.

Please you to interpose, fair Madam: kneel,

And pray your inother's blessing.-Turn, good lady; Our Perdita is found.

[Presenting PERDITA, who kneels to HERMIONE. Her. You gods, look down,

And from your secret vials pour your graces
Upon my daughter's head!-Tell me, mine own,
Where hast thou been preserved? where lived? how found

Thy father's court? for thou shalt hear that I-
Knowing by Paulina that the oracle
Gave hope thou wast in being-have preserved
Myself to see the issue.

Paul. There's time enough for that;
Lest they desire, upon this push, to trouble
Your joys with like relation.-Go together,
You precious winners all; your exultation
Partake to every one. I, an old turtle,

Will wing me to some wither'd bough; and there
My mate, that's never to be found again,
Lament till I am lost.

Leon. O peace, Paulina;

Thou shouldst a husband take by my consent,

As I by thine, a wife: this is a match,

And made between 's by vows. Thou hast found mine; But how, is to be question'd: for I saw her,

As I thought, dead; and have, in vain, said many

A prayer upon her grave. I'll not seek far
(For him, I partly know his mind) to find thee
An honourable husband.-Come, Camillo,

And take her by the hand: whose worth and honesty
Is richly noted; and here justified

By us, a pair of kings.-Let's from this place.

PRINCE HENRY, his Son; afterwards King Henry III.
ARTHUR, Duke of Bretagne son of Geffrey, late Duke
of Bretagne, the elder Brother of KING JOHN.
WILLIAM MARESHALL, Earl of Pembroke.
GEFFREY FITZ-PETER, Earl of Essex, Chief Justiciary
of England.

WILLIAM LONGSWORD, Earl of Salisbury.
ROBERT BIGOT, Earl of Norfolk.

HUBERT DE BURGH, Chamberlain to the KING. ROBERT FAULCONBRIDGE, Son of Sir Robert Faulconbridge.

PHILIP FAULCONBRIDGE, his Half-brother, bastard Son to King Richard I.

JAMES GURNEY, Servant to LADY FAULCONERIDGE.
PETEE OF POMFRET, a Prophet.
PHILIP, King of France.

LEWIS, the Dauphin.

ARCHDUKE OF AUSTRIA.

CARDINAL PANDULPH, the Pope's Legate.
MELUN, a French Lord.

CHATILLON, Ambassador from France to KING JOHN.

ELINOR, the Widow of King Henry II., and Mother of KING JOHN.

CONSTANCE, Mother to ARTHUR.

BLANCH, Daughter to Alphonso, King of Castile, and Niece to KING JOHN.

LADY FAULCONBRIDGE, Mother to the Bastard and

ROBERT FAULCONBRIDGE.

Lords, Ladies, Citizens of Angiers, Sheriff, Heralds, Officers, Soldiers, Messengers, and other Attendants.

ACT I.

SCENE I.-NORTHAMPTON.

A Room of State in the Palace. Enter KING JOHN, Queen ELINOR PEMBROKE, ESSEX, SALISBURY, and others, with CHATILLON.

K. John. Now, say, Chatillon, what would France with us?

Chat. Thus, after greeting, speaks the king of France, In my behaviour, to the majesty,

The borrow'd majesty of England here.

Eli. A strange beginning;--borrow'd majesty!
K. John. Silence, good mother; hear the embassy.
Chat. Philip of France, in right and true behalf
Of thy deceased brother Geffrey's son,
Arthur Plantagenet, lays most lawful claim
To this fair island and the territories.-

To Ireland, Poictiers, Anjou, Touraine, Maine:
Desiring thee to lay aside the sword,

Which sways usurpingly these several titles;
And put the same into young Arthur's hand,
Thy nephew, and right royal sovereign.

K. John. What follows, if we disallow of this?
Chat. The proud control of fierce and bloody war,
To enforce these rights so forcibly withheld.

[blood,

K. John. Here have we war for war, and blood for Controlment for controlment: so answer France.

Chat. Then take my king's defiance from my mouth, The furthest limit of my embassy.

K. John. Bear mine to him, and so depart in peace: Be thou as lightning in the eyes of France;

For ere thou canst report I will be there,

The thunder of my cannon shall be heard:

So, hence! Be thou the trumpet of our wrath,
And sullen 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,
Til 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 manage 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 Or else it must go wrong with you, and me: [right, So much my conscience whispers in your car; Which none but heaven, and you, and I, shall hear. Enter the Sheriff of Northamptonshire, who whispers ESSEX.

[Exit Sheriff.

Esser. My liege, here is the strangest controversy,
Come from the country to be judged by you,
That e'er I heard: shall I produce the men?
K. John. Let them approach.--
Our abbeys, and our priories, shall pay
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. Eli. Out on thee, rude man! thou dost shame thy And wound her honour with this diffidence. (mother, 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 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;

[born,

O old Sir Robert, father, on my knee

I give heaven thanks I was not like to thee.

[here!

K. John. Why, what a mad-cap hath heaven lent us 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-faced groat five hundred pound a-year!

Rob. My gracious liege, when that my father lived, 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,
And in the meantime 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 Coeur-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 goes! 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 fivepence, 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 naine whose form thou bear'st:

Kneel thou down Philip, but arise more great:
Arise Sir Richard, and Plantagenet.

Bast. Brother, by the mother's side, give me your
My father gave me honour, yours gave land: [hand;
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 grandam, Richard; call me so.

Bast. Madam, by chance, but not by truth: what Something about, a little from the right, In at the window, or else o'er the hatch:

[though?

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.

[desire,

K. John. Go, Faulconbridge; now hast thou thy 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-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,-
He and his tooth-pick at my worship's mess;
And when my knightly stomach is sufficed,
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 ABC-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 go.
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 husband,
That will take pains to blow a horn before her?

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 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 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? 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:
Sir Robert could do well; marry, (to confess,)
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 shouldst 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 Coeur-de-lion was thy father; By long and vehement suit I was seduced To make room for him in my husband's bed:Heaven lay not my transgression to my charge! Thou art the issue of my dear offence,