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When this same lusty gentleman was got.
Upon his deathbed 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.-
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 ?

Faul. 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 Faulcon-

And like thy brother, to enjoy thy land;
Or the reputed son of Caur-de-lion,
Lord of thy presence, and no land beside ?

Faul. Madam, and 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;
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 for-

tune, Bequeath thy land to him, and follow me? I am a soldier, and now bound to France. Faul. Brother, take you my land, I'll take my


gave me


Your face hath got five hundred pound 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.
Faul. Our country manners give our betters way.
K. John. What is thy name?

Faul. 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 arise more great; Arise Sir Richard, and Plantagenet. Faul. Brother, by my mother's side, give me your

hand; My father

honour, yours gave, Now blessed be the hour, by night or day, When I was got, Sir Robert was away! Brother, adieu :-good fortune come to thee, For thou wast got i'the way of honesty. K. John. Go, Faulconbridge! now hast thou thy

desire, A landless knight makes thee a landed 'squire.

[Exit Robert FAULCONBRIDGE. Come, madam, and come, Richard: we must speed For France, for France; for it is more than need.

[Flourish of Drums and Trumpets.-Exeunt all

but FAULCON BRIDGE. Faul. 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. But who comes in such haste? What woman post is this? hath she no husband That will take pains to blow a horn before her? Q me, it is my mother.


How now, good lady?
What brings you here to court so hastily?
L. Faul. Where is that slave, thy brother? Where

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

Faul. 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 ?
L. Faul. Sir Robert's son ! Ay, thou unreverend

Sir Robert's son: Why scorn'st thou at Sir Robert ?
He is Sir Robert's son, and so art thou.
Faul. James Gurney, wilt thou give us leave a

Gur, Good leave, good Philip.

Faul. 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.

L. Faul. Hast thou conspired with thy brother too,
That for thine own gain should'st defend mine ho-

nour? What means this scorn, thou most untoward knave ? Faul. 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 disclaiin'd Sir Robert, and my land :

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Legitimation, name, and all is gone :
Then, good my mother, let me know my father:
Some proper man, I hope :- Who was it, mother?
L. Faul. Hast thou denied thyself a Faulcon-

bridge? Faul. As faithfully as I deny the devil. L. Faul. King Richard cæur-de-lion was thy fa

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 :
Heaven lay not my transgression to my charge !

Faul. 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! Needs must you lay your heart at his dispose, 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. Ah, my mother, With all my heart I thank thee for


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 had’st said him nay, it had been sin:
Who says, it was, he lies ; I say, 'twas not.





The Walls of Angiers.

Flourish of Drums and Trumpets. Enter Philip, King of France, Lewis, the Dauphin,


K. Phil. Before Angiers well met, brave Austria.5.
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;
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. Heaven shall forgive you Caur-de-lion's

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.

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