Enter King Iohn, Queene Elinor, Pembroke, Essex, and Salisbury, with the Chattylion of France. King Iohn. Ow say Chatillion, what would France with vs?
Chat. Thus (after greeting) speakes the King of France, In my behauiour to the Maiesty, The borrowed Maiesty of England heere.
Elea. A strange beginning: borrowed Maiesty?
K.Iohn. Silence (good mother) heare the Embassie.
Chat. Philip of France, in right and true behalfe Of thy deceased brother, Geffreyes sonne, Arthur Plantaginet, laies most lawfull claime To this faire Iland, and the Territories: To Ireland, Poyctiers, Aniowe, Torayne, Maine, Desiring thee to lay aside the sword Which swaies vsurpingly these seuerall titles, And put the same into yong Arthurs hand, Thy Nephew, and right royall Soueraigne.
K.Iohn. What followes if we disallow of this?
Chat. The proud controle of fierce and bloudy warre, To inforce these rights, so forcibly with-held,
K.Io. Heere haue we war for war, & bloud for bloud, Controlement for controlement: so answer France.
Chat. Then take my Kings defiance from my mouth, The farthest limit of my Embassie.
K.Iohn. Beare mine to him, and so depart in peace, Be thou as lightning in the eies of France; For ere thou canst report, I will be there: The thunder of my Cannon shall be heard. So hence: be thou the trumpet of our wrath, And sullen presage of your owne decay: An honourable conduct let him haue, Pembroke looke too't: farewell Chattillion. Exit Chat. and Pem.
Ele. What now my sonne, haue I not euer said How that ambitious Constance would not cease Till she had kindled France and all the world, Vpon the right and party of her sonne. This might haue beene preuented, and made whole With very easie arguments of loue, Which now the mannage of two kingdomes must With fearefull bloudy issue arbitrate.
K.Iohn. Our strong possession, and our right for vs.
Eli. Your strong possessiō much more then your right, Or else it must go wrong with you and me, So much my conscience whispers in your eare, Which none but heauen, and you, and I, shall heare.
Enter a Sheriffe.
Essex. My Liege, here is the strangest controuersie Come from the Country to be iudg'd by you That ere I heard: shall I produce the men?
K.Iohn. Let them approach: Our Abbies and our Priories shall pay This expeditions charge: what men are you?
Enter Robert Faulconbridge, and Philip.
Philip. Your faithfull subiect, I a gentleman, Borne in Northamptonshire, and eldest sonne As I suppose, to Robert Faulconbridge, A Souldier by the Honor-giuing-hand Of Cordelion, Knighted in the field.
K.Iohn. What art thou?
Robert. The son and heire to that same Faulconbridge.
K.Iohn. Is that the elder, and art thou the heyre? You came not of one mother then it seemes.
Philip. Most certain of one mother, mighty King, That is well knowne, and as I thinke one father: But for the certaine knowledge of that truth, I put you o're to heauen, and to my mother; Of that I doubt, as all mens children may.
Eli. Out on thee rude man, yu dost shame thy mother, And wound her honor with this diffidence.
Phil. I Madame? No, I haue no reason for it, That is my brothers plea, and none of mine, The which if he can proue, a pops me out, At least from faire fiue hundred pound a yeere: Heauen guard my mothers honor, and my Land.
K.Iohn. A good blunt fellow: why being yonger born Doth he lay claime to thine inheritance?
Phil. I know not why, except to get the land: But once he slanderd me with bastardy: But where I be as true begot or no, That still I lay vpon my mothers head, But that I am as well begot my Liege (Faire fall the bones that tooke the paines for me) Compare our faces, and be Iudge your selfe If old Sir Robert did beget vs both, And were our father, and this sonne like him: O old sir Robert Father, on my knee I giue heauen thankes I was not like to thee.
K.Iohn. Why what a mad-cap hath heauen lent vs here?
Elen. He hath a tricke of Cordelions face, The accent of his tongue affecteth him: Doe you not read some tokens of my sonne In the large composition of this man?
K.Iohn. Mine eye hath well examined his parts, And findes them perfect Richard: sirra speake, What doth moue you to claime your brothers land.
Philip. Because he hath a half-face like my father? With halfe that face would he haue all my land, A halfe-fac'd groat, fiue hundred pound a yeere?
Rob. My gracious Liege, when that my father liu'd, Your brother did imploy my father much.
Phil. Well sir, by this you cannot get my land, Your tale must be how he employ'd my mother.
Rob. And once dispatch'd him in an Embassie To Germany, there with the Emperor To treat of high affaires touching that time: Th' aduantage of his absence tooke the King, And in the meane time soiourn'd at my fathers; Where how he did preuaile, I shame to speake: But truth is truth, large lengths of seas and shores Betweene my father, and my mother lay, As I haue heard my father speake himselfe When this same lusty gentleman was got: Vpon his death-bed he by will bequeath'd His lands to me, and tooke it on his death That this my mothers sonne was none of his; And if he were, he came into the world Full fourteene weekes before the course of time: Then good my Liedge let me haue what is mine, My fathers land, as was my fathers will.
K.Iohn. Sirra, your brother is Legittimate, Your fathers wife did after wedlocke beare him: And if she did play false, the fault was hers, Which fault lyes on the hazards of all husbands That marry wiues: tell me, how if my brother Who as you say, tooke paines to get this sonne, Had of your father claim'd this sonne for his, Insooth, good friend, your father might haue kept This Calfe, bred from his Cow from all the world: Insooth he might: then if he were my brothers, My brother might not claime him, nor your father Being none of his, refuse him: this concludes, My mothers sonne did get your fathers heyre, Your fathers heyre must haue your fathers land.
Rob. Shal then my fathers Will be of no force, To dispossesse that childe which is not his.
Phil. Of no more force to dispossesse me sir, Then was his will to get me, as I think.
Eli. Whether hadst thou rather be a Faulconbridge, And like thy brother to enioy thy land: Or the reputed sonne of Cordelion, Lord of thy presence, and no land beside.
Bast. Madam, and if my brother had my shape And I had his, sir Robents his like him, And if my legs were two such riding rods, My armes, such eele skins stuft, my face so thin, That in mine eare I durst not sticke a rose, Lest men should say, looke where three farthings goes, And to his shape were heyre to all this land, Would I might neuer stirre from off this place, I would giue it euery foot to haue this face: It would not be sir nobbe in any case.
Elinor. I like thee well: wilt thou forsake thy fortune, Bequeath thy land to him, and follow me? I am a Souldier, and now bound to France.
Bast. Brother, take you my land, Ile take my chance; Your face hath got fiue hundred pound a yeere, Yet sell your face for fiue pence and 'tis deere: Madam, Ile follow you vnto the death.
Elinor. Nay, I would haue you go before me thither.
Bast. Our Country manners giue our betters way.
K.Iohn. What is thy name?
Bast. Philip my Liege, so is my name begun, Philip, good old Sir Roberts wiues eldest sonne.
K.Iohn. From henceforth beare his name Whose forme thou bearest: Kneele thou downe Philip, but rise more great, Arise Sir Richard, and Plantagenet.
Bast. Brother by th' mothers side, giue me your hand, My father gaue me honor, yours gaue land: Now blessed be the houre by night or day When I was got, Sir Robert was away.
Ele. The very spirit of Plantaginet: I am thy grandame Richard, call me so.
Bast. Madam by chance, but not by truth, what tho; Something about a little from the right, In at the window, or else ore the hatch: Who dares not stirre by day, must walke by night, And haue is haue, how euer men doe catch: Neere or farre off, well wonne is still well shot, And I am I, how ere I was begot.
K.Iohn. Goe, Faulconbridge, now hast thou thy desire, A landlesse Knight, makes thee a landed Squire: Come Madam, and come Richard, we must speed For France, for France, for it is more then need.
Bast. Brother adieu, good fortune come to thee, Exeunt all but bastard.For thou wast got i'th way of honesty.
Bast. A foot of Honor better then I was, But many a many foot of Land the worse. Well, now can I make any Ioane a Lady, Good den Sir Richard, Godamercy fellow, And if his name be George, Ile call him Peter; For new made honor doth forget mens names: 'Tis two respectiue, and too sociable For your conuersion, now your traueller, Hee and his tooth-picke at my worships messe, And when my knightly stomacke is suffis'd, Why then I sucke my teeth, and catechize My picked man of Countries: my deare sir, Thus leaning on mine elbow I begin, I shall beseech you; that is question now, And then comes answer like an Absey booke: O sir, sayes answer, at your best command, At your employment, at your seruice sir: No sir, saies question, I sweet sir at yours, And so ere answer knowes what question would, Sauing in Dialogue of Complement, And talking of the Alpes and Appenines, The Perennean and the riuer Poe, It drawes toward supper in conclusion so. But this is worshipfull society, And fits the mounting spirit like my selfe; For he is but a bastard to the time That doth not smoake of obseruation, And so am I whether I smacke or no: And not alone in habit and deuice, Exterior forme, outward accoutrement; But from the inward motion to deliuer Sweet, sweet, sweet poyson for the ages tooth, Which though I will not practice to deceiue, Yet to auoid deceit I meane to learne; For it shall strew the footsteps of my rising: But who comes in such haste in riding robes? What woman post is this? hath she no husband That will take paines to blow a horne before her? O me, 'tis my mother: how now good Lady, What brings you heere to Court so hastily?
Enter Lady Faulconbridge and Iames Gurney.
Lady. Where is that slaue thy brother? where is he? That holds in chase mine honour vp and downe.
Bast. My brother Robert, old Sir Roberts sonne: Colbrand the Gyant, that same mighty man, Is it Sir Roberts sonne that you seeke so?
Lady. Sir Roberts sonne, I thou vnreuerend boy, Sir Roberts sonne? why scorn'st thou at sir Robert? He is Sir Roberts sonne, and so art thou.
Bast. Iames Gournie, wilt thou giue vs leaue a while?
Gour. Good leaue good Philip.
Bast. Philip, sparrow, Iames, There's toyes abroad, anon Ile tell thee more. Exit Iames. Madam, I was not old Sir Roberts sonne, Sir Robert might haue eat his part in me Vpon good Friday, and nere broke his fast: Sir Robert could doe well, marrie to confesse Could get me sir Robert could not doe it; We know his handy-worke, therefore good mother To whom am I beholding for these limmes? Sir Robert neuer holpe to make this legge.
Lady. Hast thou conspired with thy brother too, That for thine owne gaine shouldst defend mine honor? What meanes this scorne, thou most vntoward knaue?
Bast. Knight, knight good mother, Basilisco-like: What, I am dub'd, I haue it on my shoulder: But mother, I am not Sir Roberts sonne, I haue 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. Hast thou denied thy selfe a Faulconbridge?
Bast. As faithfully as I denie the deuill.
Lady. King Richard Cordelion was thy father, By long and vehement suit I was seduc'd To make roome for him in my husbands bed: Heauen lay not my transgression to my charge, That art the issue of my deere offence Which was so strongly vrg'd past my defence.
Bast. Now by this light were I to get againe, Madam I would not wish a better father: Some sinnes doe beare their priuiledge on earth, And so doth yours: your fault, was not your follie, Needs must you lay your heart at his dispose, Subiected tribute to commanding loue, Against whose furie and vnmatched force, The awlesse Lion could not wage the fight, Nor keepe his Princely heart from Richards hand: He that perforce robs Lions of their hearts, May easily winne a womans: aye my mother, With all my heart I thanke thee for my father: Who liues and dares but say, thou didst not well When I was got, Ile send his soule to hell. Come Lady I will shew thee to my kinne, And they shall say, when Richard me begot, If thou hadst sayd him nay, it had beene sinne; Exeunt.Who sayes it was, he lyes, I say twas not.
Ow say Chatillion, what would France with vs?
Ow say Chatillion, what would France with vs?