King John | Page 6

the
giant, that same mighty man? Is it Sir Robert's son that you seek so?
LADY FalcoNBRIDGE. 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.
BASTARD. James Gurney, wilt thou give us leave awhile?
GURNEY. Good leave, good Philip.
BASTARD. Philip--sparrow!--James, There's toys abroad:--anon I'll
tell thee more.
[Exit GURNEY.]
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. Sir Robert could
do well: marry, to confess, Could not get me; Sir Robert could not do
it,-- We know his handiwork:--therefore, good mother, To whom am I
beholding for these limbs? Sir Robert never holp to make this leg.
LADY FALCONBRIDGE. Hast thou conspired with thy brother too,
That for thine own gain shouldst defend mine honour? What means this
scorn, thou most untoward knave?
BASTARD. Knight, knight, good mother,--Basilisco-like; What! I am
dubb'd; I have it on my shoulder. But, mother, I am not Sir Robert's son:
I have 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 FalcoNBRIDGE. Hast thou denied thyself a Falconbridge?
BASTARD. As faithfully as I deny the devil.
LADY FALCONBRIDGE. King Richard Coeur-de-lion was thy father:
By long and vehement suit I was seduc'd To make room for him in my
husband's bed:-- Heaven lay not my transgression to my charge!-- Thou
art the issue of my dear offence, Which was so strongly urg'd, past my
defence.
BASTARD. 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,-- Subjected tribute to commanding love,-- 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! Who lives and dares but
say, thou didst not well When I was got, I'll send his soul to hell. Come,
lady, I will show thee to my kin; 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.
[Exeunt.]

ACT II.
SCENE 1. France. Before the walls of Angiers.
[Enter, on one side, the ARCHDUKE OF AUSTRIA and Forces; on
the other, PHILIP, King of France, LOUIS, CONSTANCE, ARTHUR,

and Forces.]
KING PHILIP. Before 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 posterity, At our importance hither is
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.
ARTHUR. God 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.
LOUIS. A noble boy! Who would not do thee right?
AUSTRIA. 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-fac'd shore, Whose foot spurns back the ocean's roaring tides,
And coops from other lands her islanders,-- Even till that England,
hedg'd in with the main, That water-walled bulwark, still secure And
confident from foreign purposes,-- Even till that utmost corner of the
west Salute thee for her king: till then, fair boy, Will I not think of
home, but follow arms.
CONSTANCE. O, 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!
AUSTRIA. The peace of heaven is theirs that lift their swords In such a
just and charitable war.
KING PHILIP. 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