Page images
PDF
EPUB

Who dares not ftir by Day, muft walk by Night,
And have is have, however Men do catch;

Near or far off, well won is ftill well shot,
And I am I, howe'er I was begot.

K. John. Go, Faulconbridge, now haft thou thy defire,
A Landlefs Knight, makes thee a Landed Squire :
Come Madam, and come Richard, we muft fpeed
For France, for France, for it is more than need.

Baft. Brother, adieu, good Fortune come to thee,
For thou waft got i' th' way of honefty. [Ex. all but Baftard.
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-denn, Sir Richard, Godamercy Fellow,
And if his Name be George, I'll call him Peter;
For new made Honour doth forget Mens Names:
'Tis too refpective, and too fociable

For your Converfion, now your Traveller,
He and his Tooth-pick, at my Worfhip's Mefs,
And when my Knightly Stomach is fuffic'd,
Why then I fuck my Teeth, and Catechise
My picked Man of Countrys; My Dear Sir,
Thus leaning on mine Elbow I begin,
I fhall befeech you; that is Queftion now,
And then comes Arfwer like an Abfey-Book:
O Sir, fays Anfwer, at your beft Command,
At your Employment, at your Service, Sir:
No, Sir, fays Question, I, fweet Sir, at yours,
And fo e'er Anfwer knows what Queftion would,
Saving in Dialogue of Compliment,
And talking of the Alpes and Appenines,
The Pyrennean and the River Po,
It draws towards Supper in conclufion fc.
But this is worshipful Society,

And fits the mounting Spirit like my felf;
For he is but a Baftard to the time
That doth not fmoak of Obfervation,
And fo am I whether I fmack or no;
And not alone in Habit and Device,
Exterior Form, outward Acoutrement;
But from the inward Motion to deliver

Sweet,

Sweet, fweet, fweet Poifon for the Ages Tooth,
Which though I will not practise to deceive,
Yet, to avoid deceit, I mean to learn;
For it fhall ftrew the Footsteps of my Rifing:
But who comes in fuch hafte in riding Robes?
What Woman-poft is this? Hath the no Husband
That will take Pains to blow a Horn before her,
O me, 'tis my Mother; how now, good Lady?
What brings you here to Court so hastily?

Enter Lady Faulconbridge and James Gurney. Lady. Where is that Slave, thy Brother? Where is he? That holds in chafe mine Honour up and down. Baft. My Brother Robert, old Sir Robert's Son, Colbrand the Giant, that fame mighty Man, Is it Sir Robert's Son that you feek fo?

Lady. Sir Robert's Son! ay, thou unreverend Boy, Sir Robert's Son, why scorneft thou at Sir Robert ? He is Sir Robert's Son, and fo art thou.

Baft. James Gurney, wilt thou give us leave a while? Gur. Good leave, good Philip.

Baft. Philip, Sparrow, James,

There's Toys abroad, anon I'll tell thee more. [Exit James.
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 Faft:
Sir Robert could do well, marry, to confefs!
Could get me! Sir Robert could not do it;
We know his Handy-work, therefore good Mother
To whom am I beholding for thefe Limbs?
Sir Robert never holp to make this Leg.

Lady. Haft thou confpir'd with thy Brother too,
That for thine own gain fhould'ft defend mine Honour?
What means this Scorn, thou moft untoward Knave?
Baft. Knight, Knight, good Mother, Bafilifco-like.
What, I am dub'd, I have it on my Shoulder:
But Mother, I am not Sir Robert's Son,
I have difclaim'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.

Lady. Haft thou deny'd thy felf a Faulconbridge?
Baft. As faithfully as I deny the Devil.

Lady. King Richard Cordelion was thy Father;
By long and vehement Suit I was feduc'd
To make room for him in my Husband's Bed.
Heav'n lay not my Tranfgreffion to my charge;
Thou art the Iffue of my dear Offence,
Which was fo ftrongly urg'd paft my Defence.
Baft. Now, by this Light, were I to get again,
Madam, I would not wifh a better Father.
Some Sins do bear their Privilege on Earth,
And fo doth yours; your Fault was not your Folly;
Needs muft you lay your Heart at his Difpofe,
Subjected Tribute to commanding Love,
Against whofe Fury and unmatched Force,
The awless Lyon could not wage the Fight,
Nor keep his princely Heart from Richard's Hands,
He that per Force robs Lyons of their Hearts,
May easily win a Woman's; ay, my Mother,
With all my Heart I thank thee for my Father,
Who lives and dares but fay, thou didst not well
When I was got, I'll fend his Soul to Hell.
Come, Lady, I will fhew thee to my Kin,
And they fhall fay, when Richard me begot,
If thou hadst faid him nay, it had been Sin;
Who fays it was, he lyes; I fay 'twas not,

SCENE II.

[Exeunt.

SCENE, before the Walls of Angiers.

Enter Philip King of France, Lewis the Dauphin, Auftria, Conftance, and Arthur.

Lewis. Before Angiers, well met brave Auftria,

Arthur, that great Fore-runner of thy Blood,
Richard that robb'd the Lion of his Heart,
And fought the holy Wars in Falestine,
By this brave Duke came early to his Grave;
And for amends to his Pofterity,

At our Importance hither is he come,
To fpread his Colours, Boy, in thy behalf

And

And to rebuke the Ufurpation

Of thy unnatural Uncle, English John.
Embrace him, love him, give him welcome hither.
Arth. God fhall forgive you Cordelion'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 unftained Love,
Welcome before the Gates of Angiers, Duke.

Lewis. A noble Boy, who would not do thee right? Auft. Upon thy Cheek lay I this zealous Kifs, As Seal to this Indenture of my Love; That to my home I will no more return, Till Angiers, and the Right thou haft in France; Together with that pale, that white-fac'd Shore, Whofe Foot fpurns back the Ocean's roaring Tides, And coops from other Lands her Iflanders, Even 'till that England, hedg'd in with the Main, That water-walled Bulwark, ftill fecure

And confident from foreign Purposes,

Even 'till that outmoft Corner of the Weft
Salute thee for her King; 'till then, fair Boy,

Will I not think of home, but follow Arms.

Conft. O take his Mother's Thanks, a Widow's Thanks, 'Till your ftrong Hand fhall help to give him Strength, To make a more Requital to your Love.

Auft. The Peace of Heav'n is theirs, who lift their Swords In fuch a juft and charitable War.

K, Philip. Well, then, to work, our Cannon shall be bent Against the Brows of this refifting Town;

Call for our chiefeft Men of Discipline,

To cull the Plots of beft Advantages.

We'll lay before this Town our Royal Bones,
Wade to the Market-Place in Frenchmens Blood,
But we will make it fubject to this Boy.

Conft. Stay for an Answer to your Embassie,
Left unadvis'd you ftain your Swords with Blood.
My Lord Chattilion may from England bring
That Right in Peace which here we urge in War,
And then we fhall repent each Drop of Blood,
That hot rafh hafte fo indirectly shed.

Enter

Enter Chattilion,

K. Philip. A Wonder, Lady! lo! upon thy With
Our Meffenger Chattilion, is arriv'd;

What England fays, fay briefly, gentle Lord,
We coldly paufe for thee. Chattilion fpeak.

Chat. Then turn your Forces from this paultry Siege,
And ftir them up against a mightier Task.
England, impatient of your juft Demands,
Hath put himself in Arms, the adverfe Winds,
Whofe Leisure I have ftaid, have given him time
To land his Legions all as foon as I.

His Marches are expedient to this Town,
His Forces ftrong, his Soldiers confident.
With him along is come the Mother-Queen;
An Ate ftirring him to Blood and Strife.
With her her Neice, the Lady Blanch of Spain;
With them a Baftard of the King deceas'd,
And all th' unfettled Humours of the Land;
Rafh, inconfiderate, fiery Volunteers,
With Ladies Faces, and fierce Dragons Spleens,
Have fold their Fortunes at their native Homes,
Bearing their Birthright 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 fwelling Tide,
To do offence and feathe in Chriftendom.
The Interruption of their churlish Drums
Cuts off more Circumftance; they are at hand.

To parly or to fight, therefore prepare.

[Drums beat.

K. Philip. How much unlook'd for is this Expedition! Auft. By how much unexpected, by fo much

"We must awake, endeavour for Defence,

For Courage mounteth with Occafion:

Let them be welcome then, we are prepar'd.

Enter King of England, Bastard, Elinor, Blanch, Pembroke,

and others.

K. John. Peace be to France, if France in Peace permit

Our juft and lineal Entrance to our own;

If, not bleed France, and Peace afcend to Heav'n.

« PreviousContinue »