O me! it is my mother. Now, good Lady,
What brings you here to court fo haftily?
Enter Lady Faulconbridge, and James Gurney. Lady. Where is that flave, thy brother, where is he, That holds in chace mine honour up and down? Phil. My brother Robert, old Sir Robert's fon, Colbrand the giant, that fame mighty man, Is it Sir Robert's fon that you feek fo?
Lady. Sir Robert's fon; ay, thou unrev'rend boy, Sir Robert's fon: why scorn'ft thou at Sir Robert ? He is Sir Robert's fon, and fo art thou.
Phil. James Gurney, wilt thou give us leave a while? Gur. Good leave, good Philip.
Phil. Philip!- -fpare me, James;
There's toys abroad; anon I'll tell thee more.
Madam, I was not old Sir Robert's fon;
Sir Robert might have eat his part in me
Upon Good-Friday, and ne'er broke his faft.
Sir Robert could do well; marry, confefs!
Could he get me? Sir Robert could not do it;
We knew his handy-work; therefore, good mother,
To whom am I beholden for thefe limbs ?
Sir Robert never holpe to make this leg.
Lady. Haft thou confpired with thy brother too, That, for thine own gain, fhould'ft defend mine honour ? What means this fcorn, thou moft untoward knave? Phil. Knight, knight, good mother-Bafilifcolike *.
What! I am dubb'd; I have it on my shoulder.
But, mother, I am not Sir Robert's fon;
I have difclaim'd Sir Robert, and my land;
Legitimation, name, and all is gone.
*The words allude to an expreffion in an old foolish play, then the common butt of ridicule, called Soliman and Perfeda. But the beauty of the paffage confifts in his alluding, at the fame time, to his high original. His father, Richard I. was furnamed Cœur de lion; and the Cor Leonis, a fixed ftar of the first magnitude, in the fign Leo, is called Bafilifco. Mr Warburton.
Then, good my mother, let me know my father;
Some proper man, I hope; who was it, mother?
Lady. Haft thou deny'd thyfelf a Faulconbridge?
Phil. As faithfully as I deny the devil.
Lady. King Richard Coeur-de-lion was thy father;
By long and vehement fuit 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 so strongly urg'd past my defence.
Phil. Now, by this light, were I to get again,
Madam, I would not with a better father.
Some fins do bear their privilege on earth,
And fo doth your's; your fault was not your folly;
Needs muft you lay your heart at his dispose,
Subjected tribute to commanding love;
Against whofe fury, and unmatched force,
The awless lion could not wage the fight;
Nor keep his princely heart from Richard's hands.
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.
Who lives and dares but fay, thou didst not well
When I was got, I'll fend his foul to hell.
Come, Lady, I will fhew thee to my kin,
And they thall fay, when Richard me begot,
If thou hadft said him Nay, it had been fin;
Who fays it was, he lyes; I fay 'twas not. [Exeunt.
Before the walls of Angiers in France.
Enter Philip King of France, Lewis the Dauphin, the Archduke of Auftria, Conftance, and Arthur.
Lewis. Efore Angiers well met, brave Austria.
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 pofterity,
At our importance hither is he come,
To fpread his colours, boy, in thy behalf;
And to rebuke the ufurpation
Of thy unnatural uncle, English John.
Embrace him, love him, give him welcome hither.
Arth. God fhall 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 pow'rlefs 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 check lay I this zealous kifs,
As feal 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 fhore,
Whofe foot fpurns back the ocean's roaring tides,
And coops from other lands her islanders;
Ev'n till that England, hedg'd in with the main,
That water-walled bulwark, ftill fecure
And confident from foreign purposes,
Ev'n 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 ftrength, To make a more requital to your love.
Auft. The peace of Heav'n is theirs who lift their In fuch a juft and charitable war. [fwords K. Phil. Well then, to work; our engines fhall be
Against the brows of this refifting town;
Call for our chiefeft men of difcipline,
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 subject to this boy.
Conft. Stay for an answer to your embaffy,
Left unadvis'd you ftain your fwords with blood.
My Lord Chatilion 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 rafh hafte fo indirectly fhed.
Сс
K. Phil. A wonder, Lady! lo, upon thy wish
Our meffenger Chatilion is arriv'd.
What England fays, fay briefly, gentle Lord;
We coldly paufe for thee. Chatilion, fpeak.
Chat. Then turn your forces from this paultry fiege, And ftir them up against a mightier task.
England, impatient of your juft demands,
Hath put himfelf in arms; the adverfe winds,
Whofe leisure I have staid, have giv'n him time
To land his legions all as foon as I.
His marches are expedient to this town,
His forces ftrong, his-foldiers confident.
With him along is come the mother Queen;
An Até, ftirring him to blood and strife.
With her, her niece, the Lady Blanch of Spain;
With them a bastard of the King deceas'd,
And all th' unfettled humours of the land;
Rafh, inconfid'rate, fiery voluntaries,
With ladies' faces, and fierce dragons' fpleens,
Have fold 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 fpirits,
Than now the English bottoms have waft o'er,
Did never float upon the fwelling tide,
To do offence and fcathe in Christendom.
The interruption of their churlish drums [Drums beat.
Cuts off more circumstance; they are at hand.
To parly, or to fight, therefore prepare.
K. Phil. 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, Faulconbridge, Elinor, Blanch, Pembroke, and others.
K. John. Peace be to France, if France in peace perOur just and lineal entrance to our own:
If not, bleed France, and peace ascend to heav'n!
Whilft we, God's wrathful agent, do correct
Their proud contempt that beats his peace to heav'n.
K. Phil, Peace be to England, if that war return
From France to England, there to live in peace!
England we love; and for that England's fake,
With burthen of our armour here we sweat;
This toil of ours fhould be a work of thine.
But thou from loving England art fo far,
That thou haft underwrought its lawful King;
Cut off the fequence of pofterity;
Out-faced infant ftate; 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 abftract doth contain that large
Which dy'd in Geffrey; and the hand of Time
Shall draw this brief into as large a volume.
That Geffrey was thy elder brother born,
And this his fon; 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 own the crown that thou o'ermaftereft?
K. John. From whom haft thou this great commiffion,
To draw my answer to thy articles?
[France,
K. Phil. From that fupernal judge, that ftirs good
[thoughts
In any breaft of ftrong authority,
To look into the blots and ftains of right.
That judge hath made me guardian to this boy;
Under whofe warrant I impeach thy wrong,
And by whofe help I mean to chastise it *.
K. John. Alack, thou doft ufurp authority.
K. Phil. Excufe it, 'tis to beat ufurping dow
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