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To Ireland, Poitiers, Anjou, Touraine, Maine :
Defiring thee to lay afide the fword

Which sways ufurpingly these several titles,
And put the fame into young Arthur's hand,
Thy nephew, and right royal Sovereign,

K. John. What follows, if we difallow of this?
Chat. The proud controul of fierce and bloody war,
Tinforce these rights fo forcibly with-held.

K. John. Here have we war for war, and blood for blood,
Controulment for controulment; fo answer France.
Chat. Then take my King's defiance from my mouth,
The fartheft limit of my embaffie.

K. Jobn. Bear mine to him, and fo depart in peace.
Be thou as lightning in the eyes of France,
For ere thou canft report, I will be there,
The thunder of my cannon fhall be heard,
So, hence! be thou the trumpet of our wrath,
And fullen prefage of your own decay.
An honourable conduct let him have,
Pembroke, look to't; farewel, Chatilion.

[Ex. Chat, and Pem.
Eli. What now, my fon, have I not ever faid
How that ambitious Conftance would not cease
Till fhe had kindled France and all the world,
Upon the right and party of her fon?

This might have been prevented, and made whole
With very eafie arguments of love;

Which now the manage of two kingdoms muft
With fearful bloody iffue arbitrate.

K. John. Our ftrong poffeffion and our right for us.
Eli. Your ftrong poffeffion much more than your right,
Or else it must go wrong with you and me ;

So much my conscience whispers in your ear,

Which none but heav'n, and you, and I fhall hear.
Effex. My Liege, here is the ftrangeft controverfie

Come from the country to be judg'd by you
That e'er I heard; fhall I produce the men?
K. John, Let them approach.

Our Abbies and our Priories fhall pay

This expedition's charge What men are you?

SCENE

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SCENE II.

Enter Robert Faulconbridge and the Bastard,
Baft. Your faithful fubject, I, a gentleman
Born in Northamptonshire, and eldest fon,
As I fuppofe, to Robert Faulconbridge,
A foldier, by the honour-giving hand
Of Coeur-de-lion knighted in the field.
K. John. What art thou?

Rob. The fon and heir to that fame Faulconbridge:
K. John. Is that the elder, and art thou the heir?
You came not of one mother then it féems?

Baft. Moft 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 heav'n and to my mother;
Of that I doubt, as all men's children may.

Eli. Out on thee, rude man, thou doft shame thy mother,
And wound her honour with this diffidence.

Baft. 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, he pops me out
At least from fair five hundred pound a year:
Heav'n guard my mother's honour and my land!

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K. John. A good blunt fellow: why, being younger born
Doth he lay claim to thine inheritance ?

Baft. I know not why, except to get the land ;
But once he flander'd me with bastardy:

But whether I be true begot or no,
That ftill 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 your felf.
If old Sir Robert did beget us both,
And were our father, and this fon like him;
O old Sir Robert, father, on my knee

I give heav'n thanks I was not like to thee.

K. John. Why, what a mad-cap hath heav'n 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 fome tokens of my son

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In

In the large compofition of this man?"

K. John. Mine eye hath well examined his parts,
And finds them perfect Richard: firrah, speak,
What doth move you to claim your brother's land

Baft. Because he hath a half-face, like my father,
With that half-face would he have all my land?
A half-fac'd groat, five hundred pound a year?

Rob. My gracious biege, when that my father liv'd,
Your brother did imploy my father much

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Baft. Well, Sir, by this you cannot get my land.
Your tale must be how he imploy'd my mother.
Rob. And once dispatch'd him in an embaffie
To Germany; there with the Emperor
To treat of high affairs touching that time:
Th' advantage of his abfence took the King,
And in the mean time fojourn'd at my father's
Where, how he did prevail, I fhame to fpeak:
But truth is truth; large lengths of feas and fhores
Between my father and my mother lay,
(As I have heard my father speak himself)
When this fame lufty 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 fon was none of his
An if he were, he came into the world
Full fourteen weeks before the courfe of time:
Then, good my Liege, let me have what is mine,
My father's land, as was my father's will.

K. Jobn. Sirrah, your brother is legitimate,
Your father's wife did after wedlock bear him:
And if the did play falfe, the fault was hers,
Which fault lies on the hazard of all hufbands
That marry wives. Tell me, how if my brother,
Who as you fay took pains to get this fon,
Had of your father claim'd this fon for his ?
In footh, good friend, your father might have kept
This calf, bred from his cow, from all the world.
In footh he might, then if he were my brother's,
My brother might not claim him nor your father,
Being none of his, refufe him; this concludes,

My

My mother's fon 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 difpoffefs that child which is not his ?
Baft. Of no more force to difpoffefs me, Sir,
Than was his will to get me, as I think.

Eli. Say, hadft thou rather be a Faulconbridge,
And like thy brother, to enjoy thy land:
Or the reputed fon of Coeur-de-lion,

Lord of thy prefence, and no land befide?
Baft, Madam, an if my brother had my fhape,
And I had his, Sir Robert's, his, like him,
And if my legs were two fuch riding rods,
My arms fuch eel-fkins ftuft; my face fo thin,
That in mine ear I durft not ftick a rofe, *

Left men should fay, look where three farthings goes
And with his fhape were heir to all this land;
Would I might never ftir from off this place,
I'd give it ev'ry foot to have this face
I would not be + Sir Nobbe in any cafe.

Eli. I like thee well; wilt thou forfake thy fortune, Bequeath thy land to him, and follow me?

I am a foldier and now bound to France.

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Baft. Brother, take you my land, I'll take my chance Your face hath got five hundred pound a year,

Yet fell 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.
Baft. Our country manners give our betters way.
K. John. What is thy name?

Baft. Philip, my Liege, fo is my name begun,
Philip, good old Sir Robert's wife's eldest fon.

K. Jobn. From henceforth bear his name whofe form thou Kneel thou down Philip, but rife up more great, (bear'ft Arife Sir Richard and Plantagenet.

Baft. Brother by th'mother's fide, give me your hand,

Alluding to the three-farthing pieces current in Queen Elisa beth's time which had a rofe on the reverfe: and being of filver they must be fuppofed to be very thin.

Sir Noble, a nickname, in contempt, of Sir Robert.

My father gave me honour, yours gave land.
Now bleffed be the hour, by night or day,
When I was got, Sir Robert was away!
Eli. The very fpirit of Plantagenet!
I am thy grandam; Richard, call me fo.

Baft. Madam, by chance, but not by truth, what tho'? Something about, a little from the right,

In at the window, or elfe o'er the hatch: 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 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.

Baft. Brother, adieu; good fortune come to thee! For thou was got i'th way of honesty. [Ex. all but Baft.

SCENE III.

A foot of honour better than I was,
But many, many a foot of land the worse !
Well, now can I make any Joan a Lady.

Good-den, 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 unsociable

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For your converfing. Now your traveller,
He and his tooth-pick at my Worship's mess;
And when my knightly ftomach is fuffic'd,
Why then I fuck my teeth, and catechise
My picked man of countries, my dear Sir,
(Thus leaning on mine elbow I begin)
I fhall befeech you, that is Queftion now,
And then comes Anfwer like an A B C-book:
O Sir, fays Anfwer, at your best command,
At your employment, at your fervice, Sir :-
No, Sir, fays Queftion, I, fweet Sir, at yours,
And fo ere Anfwer knows what Question would,
Serving in dialogue of compliment,
And talking of the Alps and Appenines,
The Pyrenean and the river Po,

--

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