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 examinéd his parts,
And finds them perfect Richard.-Sirrah, speak;
What doth move you to claim your brother's land?
Rob. My gracious liege, when that my father lived,
Your brother did employ my father much,-
And once despatched 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 mean time sojourned at my father's;
Where how he did prevail I shame to speak :
But truth is truth:

Upon his death my father did bequeath

His lands to me; and took it, on his death,
That this, my mother's son, was none of his :
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. [Rises and descends. Queen E. follows, and approaches Faulc.

Some Nobles accost the King, as if referring to the litigants.

Rob. Shall, then, my father's will be of no force To dispossess that child which is not his ?

Eli. (UP c.) 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?

Faulc. 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 stuffed;

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.

Faulc. Brother, take you my land, I'll take my chance. [Queen E. goes up to the King, and Faulc. crosses to Robert F.

Your face hath got five hundred pounds 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.
Faulc. (R.) Our country manners give our betters way.
K. John. What is thy name?

[Advances L. c. Faulc. 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 bearest :

Kneel thou down Philip, but arise more great:

[Faulc. kneels in front of the King, who strikes him on the right shoulder with his sword.

Arise Sir Richard, and Plantagenet.

Faulc. 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.

[Rises.

Eli. [To the King.] The very spirit of Plantagenet!— I am thy grandame, Richard: call me so.

Faulc. Madam, by chance, but not by truth: what though?

Something about, a little from the right,

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, h we'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: [To the Court]—we
must speed

For France, for France; for it is more than need.

[A flourish of trumpets R. Exeunt all but Faulc.-King and followers, R., Robert F. and others, L. Faulc. Brother, adieu: good fortune come to thee, For thou wast born i' the way of honesty. 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!"

66

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.

But who comes in such haste, in riding robes?
What woman-post is this?

Enter LADY FAULCONBRIDGE and JAMES GURNEY, L.

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?
Faulc. My brother Robert? old Sir Robert's son ?
Colbrand the giant, that same mighty man?

Is it Sir Robert's son that seek so?

you

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.

Faulc. James Gurney, [Crosses to him,] wilt thou give us leave awhile?

Gur. Good leave, good Philip.

Faulc. Philip ?-sparrow! James,

There's toys abroad: anon I'll tell thee more.

[Exit Gurney, L.

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.
"Therefore, good mother,

"To whom am I beholden for these limbs ?

"Sir Robert never holp to make this leg."

Lady F. (R.) Hast thou conspired with thy brother, too, That for thine own gain should'st defend mine honour? What means this scorn, thou most untoward knave?

Faulc. (L.) Knight, knight, good mother-Basilisco-like: What! I am dubbed-I have it on my shoulder!

But, mother, I am not Sir Robert's son ;

I have disclaimed Sir Robert, and his 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?
Faule. As faithfully as I deny the devil.

Lady F. Then Richard Coeur-de-Lion was thy father.
Heaven, lay not my transgression to my charge!
Faulc. 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. Ay, my mother,
With all my heart I thank thee for my father!

Come, lady, I will show thee to my kin; [Crosses up to R.
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.

END OF ACT I.

[Exeunt, R. U. E.

ACT II.

SCENE 1.-France. Before the Walls of Angiers. Sentinels discovered on the Walls.

Enter, R., KING PHILIP, preceded by FRENCH Herald, Nobles, Soldiers, &c., and followed by LEWIS the Dauphin, CONSTANCE, ARTHUR, and Attendants. Enter, L., AUSTRIA and Followers. King Philip advances to meet Austria.

Lew. Before Angiers well met, brave Austria ! Arthur, that great fore-runner of thy blood,

Richard, that robbed 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 hath 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. [Crossing to Austria.] Heaven 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,
Even till that England, hedged in with the main,
Salute thee for her king. Till then, fair boy,
Will I not think of home, but follow arms.

[Arthur returns to Constance, who passes him as she aă-
· dresses Austria.

Const. Oh! 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.

Aust. The peace of heaven is theirs, that lift their swords In such a just and charitable war.

K. Phi. Well, then, to work. Our cannon shall be bent 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