Cam. My lord, your sorrow was too sore laid on, Which sixteen winters cannot blow away, 50 So many summers dry: scarce any joy Did ever so long live; no sorrow
But kill'd itself much sooner. Pol.
Dear my brother, Let him that was the cause of this have power To take off so much grief from you as he Will piece up in himself.
"Tis time; descend; be stone no more; approach: Strike all that look upon with marvel. Come, 100 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. 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
If I had thought the sight of my poor image Would thus have wrought you,-for the stone is Is she become the suitor? mine-
I'ld not have show'd it. Leon. Do not draw the curtain. Paul. No longer shall you gaze on't, lest your fancy
May think anon it moves.
Leon. Would I were dead, but that, methinks, already- What was he that did make it? See, my lord, Would you not deem it breathed? and that those
O, she's warm! If this be magic, let it be an art Lawful as eating.
Cam. She hangs about his neck: If she pertain to life let her speak too: Pol. Ay, and make't manifest where she has
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 140 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. What! look upon my brother: both your pardons, That e'er I put between your holy looks My ill suspicion. This is your son-in-law And son unto the king, who, heavens directing, 150 Is troth-plight to your daughter. Good Paulina, Lead us from hence, where we may leisurely Each one demand and answer to his part Perform'd in this wide gap of time since first
Paul. Music, awake her; strike! [Music. We were dissever'd: hastily lead away. [Exeunt,
PHILIP the BASTARD, his half-brother.
LEWIS, the Dauphin.
LYMOGES, Duke of AUSTRIA.
CARDINAL PANDULPH, the Pope's legate. MELUN, a French Lord.
CHATILLON, ambassador from France to King John.
QUEEN ELINOR, mother to King John. CONSTANCE, mother to Arthur.
BLANCH of Spain, niece to King John. LADY FAULCONBRIDGE.
JAMES GURNEY, servant to Lady Faulcon- Lords, Citizens of Angiers, Sheriff, Heralds,
PETER of Pomfret, a prophet.
SCENE I. KING JOHN's 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,
Officers, Soldiers, Messengers, and other
Essex. 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 This expedition's charge.
Enter ROBERT FAULCONBRIDGE, and PHILIP his bastard brother.
What men are you? Bast. Your faithful subject I, a gentleman 50 Born in Northamptonshire and eldest son,
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 mother
And wound her honour with this diffidence.
Bast. 1, 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 whether 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, go What doth move you to claim your brother's land? Bast. Because he hath a half-face, like my father.
With half that 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:
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 130
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 Faul- conbridge
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's 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 would 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,
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 grandam, Richard; cali me so. Bast. Madam, by chance but not by truth; what though?
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 180 thee! [Exeunt all but 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, low!'
For thou wast got i' the way of honesty.
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 sufficed, Why then I suck my teeth and catechize My picked man of countries: 'My dear sir,' Thus, leaning on mine elbow, I begin,
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
Gur. Good leave, good Philip.
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 handiwork: therefore, good mother, To whom am I beholding 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
What means this scorn, thou most untoward
Bast. Knight, knight, good mother, Basilisco- like.
What! I am dubb'd! I have it on my shoulder. 190 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 Faul- conbridge?
'I shall beseech you'-that is question now; And then comes answer like an Absey 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 so. 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;
Bast. As faithfully as I deny the devil.
Lady F. King Richard Coeur-de-lion was thy
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, Which was so strongly urged 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: Needs must you lay your heart at his dispose,
210 Subjected tribute to commanding love,
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. Ay, my mother, With all my heart I thank thee for my father! 270 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 hadst said him nay, it had been sin: Who says it was, he lies; I say 'twas not. [Exeunt.
Of thy unnatural uncle, English John: Embrace him, love him, give him welcome hither. Arth. God shall forgive you Coeur-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-faced shore, Whose foot spurns back the ocean's roaring tides And coops from other lands her islanders, Even till that England, hedged 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 boy, Will I not think of home, but follow arms. Const. O, 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!
An Ate, stirring him to blood and strife; With her her niece, the Lady Blanch of Spain; With them a bastard of the king's deceased; And all the unsettled humours of the land, Rash, inconsiderate, fiery voluntaries, With ladies' faces and fierce dragons' spleens, Have sold their fortunes at their native homes, Bearing their birthrights proudly on their backs, To make a hazard of new fortunes here: In brief, a braver choice of dauntless spirits Than now the English bottoms have waft o'er Did never float upon the swelling tide, To do offence and scath in Christendom.
The interruption of their churlish drums Cuts off more circumstance: they are at hand, To parley or to fight; therefore prepare.
K. Phi. How much unlook'd for is this expedition!
Aust. By how much unexpected, by so much We must awake endeavour for defence; For courage mounteth with occasion: Let them be welcome then; we are prepared.
Enter KING JOHN, ELINOR, BLANCH, the Bastard, Lords, and forces.
K. John. Peace be to France, if France in peace permit
Our just and lineal entrance to our own;
If not, bleed France, and peace ascend to heaven, Whiles we, God's wrathful agent, do correct Their proud contempt that beats His peace to heaven.
K. Phi. Peace be to England, if that war
From France to England, there to live in peace.
Aust. The peace of heaven is theirs that lift England we love; and for that England's sake 91
In such a just and charitable war.
With burden of our armour here we sweat. This toil of ours should be a work of thine;
K. Phi. Well then, to work: our cannon shall But thou from loving England art so far,
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 unadvised you stain your swords with blood: My Lord Chatillon may from England bring That right in peace which here we urge in war, And then we shall repent each drop of blood That hot rash haste so indirectly shed.
K. Phi. A wonder, lady! lo, upon thy wish, Our messenger Chatillon is arrived!
What England says, say briefly, gentle lord; We coldly pause for thee; Chatillon, speak. Chat. Then turn your forces from this paltry siege
And stir them up against a mightier task. England, impatient of your just demands, Hath put himself in arms: the adverse winds, Whose leisure I have stay'd, have given him time To land his legions all as soon as I; His marches are expedient to this town, His forces strong, his soldiers confident. With him along is come the mother-queen,
That thou hast under-wrought his lawful king, Cut off the sequence of posterity, Out-faced infant state and done a rape Upon the maiden virtue of the crown. Look here upon thy brother Geffrey's face; These eyes, these brows, were moulded out of his: This little abstract doth contain that large Which died in Geffrey, and the hand of time Shall draw this brief into as huge a volume. That Geffrey was thy elder brother born, And this his son; England was Geffrey's right And this is Geffrey's: in the name of God How comes it then that thou art call'd a king, When living blood doth in these temples beat, Which owe the crown that thou o'ermasterest? K. John. From whom hast thou this great commission, France,
To draw my answer from thy articles? K. Phi. From that supernal judge, that stirs good thoughts
In any breast of strong authority,
To look into the blots and stains of right: That judge hath made me guardian to this boy: Under whose warrant I impeach thy wrong And by whose help I mean to chastise it.
K. John. Alack, thou dost usurp authority. K. Phi. Excuse; it is to beat usurping down. Eli. Who is it thou dost call usurper, France? Const. Let me make answer; thy usurping son.
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