And be these juggling fiends no more believ'd,
That palter with us in a double sense;
That keep the word of promise to our ear,

And break it to our hope.-I'll not fight with thee.
Macd. Then yield thee, coward,

And live to be the show and gaze o' the time.
We'll have thee, as our rarer monsters are,
Painted upon a pole; and underwrit,

"Here may you see the tyrant."

Macb.

I will not yield, To kiss the ground before young Malcolm's feet, And to be baited with the rabble's curse. Though Birnam wood be come to Dunsinane, And thou oppos'd, being of no woman born, Yet I will try the last: Before my body I throw my warlike shield: lay on, Macduff; And damn'd be he that first cries, "Hold, enough." [Exeunt, fighting. Retreat. Flourish. Re-enter, with drum and colours, MALCOLM, old SIWARD, ROSSE, LENOX, ANGUS, CATHNESS, MENTETH, and Soldiers.

Mal. I would the friends we miss were safe arriv'd.

Siw. Some must go off; and yet, by these I see, So great a day as this is cheaply bought.

Mal. Macduff is missing, and your noble son. Rosse. Your son, my lord, has paid a soldier's debt:

He only liv'd but till he was a man;

The which no sooner had his prowess confirm'd, In the unshrinking station where he fought, But like a man he died.

Suo. Why, then, God's soldier be he Had I as many sons as I have hairs, I would not wish them to a fairer death: And so his knell is knoll'd. Mal.

He's worth more sorrow,

And that I'll spend for him.

Siw.

He's worth no more;

They say, he parted well, and paid his score: And so, God be with him!-Here comes newer

comfort.

Re-enter MACDUFF, with MACBETH's head. Macd. Hail, king! for so thou art: Behold where stands

The usurper's cursed head: the time is free:
I see thee compass'd with thy kingdom's pearl,
That speak my salutation in their minds;
Whose voices I desire aloud with mine,-
Hail, King of Scotland!
All.

King of Scotland, hail! [Flourish. Mal. We shall not spend a large expense of time,

Before we reckon with your several loves,
And make us even with you. My thanes and
kinsmen,

Henceforth be earls, the first that ever Scotland
In such an honour nam'd. What's more to do,
Which would be planted newly with the time,-
As calling home our exil'd friends abroad
That fled the snares of watchful tyranny;
Producing forth the cruel ministers

Of this dead butcher, and his fiend-like queen,
Who, as 'tis thought, by self and violent hands
Took off her life;-this, and what needful else
That calls upon us, by the grace of Grace,
We will perform in measure, time, and place:
So thanks to all at once, and to each one,
Whom we invite to see us crown'd at Scone.
[Flourish. Exeunt

ARTHUR, Duke of Bretagne, son of Geffrey, late Duke of

Bretagne, the elder brother of King John.
WILLIAM MARESHALL, Earl of Pembroke.

PETER OF POMFRET, a prophet.
PHILIP, King of France. LEWIS, the Dauphin.
Archduke of AUSTRIA.

Cardinal PANDULPH, the Pope's legate.
MELUN, a French lord.

CHATILLON, ambassador from France to King John,

England.

WILLIAM LONGSWORD, Earl of Salisbury.

ROBERT BIGOT, Earl of Norfolk. HUBERT DE BURGH, chamberlain to the King, ROBERT FAULCONBRIDGE, son of Sir Robert Faulconbridge. PHILIP FAULCONBRIDGE, half-brother to Robert Faulconbridge, bastard son to King Richard L.

JAMES GURNEY, servant to Lady Faulconbridge.

the Palace.

Enter King JOHN, Queen ELINOR, PEMBROKE, ESSEX, SALISBURY, and others, with CHATILLON. King John. Now say, Chatillon, what would France with us?

Chat. Thus, after greeting, speaks the King of
France,

In my behaviour, to the majesty,
The borrow'd majesty of England here.

Eli. A strange beginning;-borrow'd majesty!
K. John. Silence, good mother; hear the embassy.
Chat. Philip of France, in right and true behalf
Of thy deceased brother Geffrey's son,
Arthur Plantagenet, lays most lawful claim
To this fair island, and the territories;

To Ireland, Poictiers, Anjou, Touraine, Maine:
Desiring thee to lay aside the sword,
Which sways usurpingly these several titles;
And put the same into young Arthur's hand,
Thy nephew and right royal sovereign.

K. John. What follows if we disallow of this?
Chat. The proud control of fierce and bloody war,
To enforce these rights so forcibly withheld.
K. John. Here have we war for war, and blood
for blood,

Controlment for controlment: so answer France. Chat. Then take my king's defiance from my mouth,

The farthest limit of my embassy.

K. John. Bear mine to him, and so depart in peace: Be thou as lightning in the eyes 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 own decay. An honourable conduct let him have:Pembroke, look to't: Farewell, Chatillon.

[Exeunt CHAT. and PEM. Eli. What now, my son? have I not ever said, How that ambitious Constance would not cease, Till she had kindled France, and all the world, Upon the right and party of her son?

With very easy arguments of love;
Which now the manage of two kingdoms must
With fearful bloody issue arbitrate.

K. John. Our strong possession, and our right, for us.

Eli. Your strong possession 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 Heaven, and you, and I, shall hear.
Enter the Sheriff of Northamptonshire, who
whispers ESSEX.

Essex. My liege, here is the strangest controversy,
Come from the country to be judg'd by you,
That e'er I heard: Shall I produce the men?
K John. Let them approach. [Exit Sheriff,
Our abbeys and our priories shall pay
Re-enter Sheriff, with ROBERT FAULCONBRIDGE,
and PHILIP, his bastard brother.
This expedition's charge.-What men are you?
Bast. Your faithful subject I, a gentleman,
Born in Northamptonshire; and eldest son,
As I suppose, to Robert Faulconbridge;
A soldier, by the honour-giving hand
Of Coeur-de-Lion knighted in the field.
K. John. What art thou?

Rob. The son and heir to that same Faulconbridge. K. John. Is that the elder, and art thou the heir? You came not of one mother, then, it seems.

Bast. Most 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 Heaven, and to my mother: Of that I doubt, as all men's children may. Eli. Out on thee, rude man! thou dost shame

younger born,

Doth he lay claim to thine inheritance?

Bast. I know not why, except to get the land. But once he slandered me with bastardy: But wher I be as true begot or no, That still 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 yourself. If old Sir Robert did beget us both, And were our father, and this son, like him,— O old Sir Robert, father, on my knee,

I give Heaven thanks I was not like to thee.
K. John. Why, what a madcap hath Heaven
lent us here!

Eli. He hath a trick of Cœur-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 examined his parts, And finds them perfect Richard. Sirrah, speak, What doth move you to claim your brother's land?

Bast. 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 liege, when that my father liv'd, Your brother did employ my father much:Bast. Well, sir, by this you cannot get my land: Your tale must be how he employ'd my mother.

Rob. And once despatch'd him in an embassy To Germany, there, with the emperor, To treat of high affairs touching that time: Th' advantage of his absence took the king, And in the mean time sojourn'd at my father's; Where how he did prevail, I shame to speak: But truth is truth; large lengths of seas and shores Between my father and my mother lay,As I have heard my father speak himself,When this same lusty 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 son, was none of his; And, if he were, he came into the world Full fourteen weeks before the course of time. 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. Tell me, how if my brother, Who, as you say, took pains to get this son, Had of your father claim'd this son for his? In sooth, good friend, your father might have kept This calf, bred from his cow, from all the world; In sooth, he might: then, if he were my brother's, My brother might not claim him; nor your father, Being none of his, refuse him: This concludes: My mother's son 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 dispossess that child which is not his?

Bast. Of no more force to dispossess me, sir, Than was his will to get me, as I think.

Eli. 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?
Bust. 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;

That in mine ear I durst not stick a rose,
Lest men should say, Look, where three-farthing.

goes;

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.
Bast. Brother, take you my land, I'll take my
chance:

Your face hath got five hundred pound 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.

Bast. Our country manners give our betters

way.

K. John. What is thy name?

Bast. 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;
Arise Sir Richard, and Plantagenet.

Bast. 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.

Eli. The very spirit of Plantagenet!

I am thy grandame, Richard; call me so.
Bast. 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 his have, however men do catch: Near or far off, well won is still well shot; And I am I, howe'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; we must speed
For France, for France; for it is more than need.
Bast. Brother, adieu; Good fortune come to thee!
For thou wast got i' the way of honesty.
[Exeunt all but the Bastard.

A. foot of honour better than I was;
But many a foot of land the worse.
Well, now can I make any Joan a lady.
Good den, Sir Richard,-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. Now your traveller,
He and his toothpick at my worship's mess,
And when my knightly stomach is suffic'd,
Why then I suck my teeth, and catechise
My picked man of countries:- -My dear sir
(Thus, leaning on my elbow, I begin

shall beseech you-That is question now:
And then comes answer like an Absey book.
O, sir, says answer, at your best command;
At your employment; at your service, sir:
No, sir, says question, I, sweet sir, at yours:
And so, ere answer knows what question would,
Saving in dialogue of compliment;
And talking of the Alps and Apennines,
The Pyrenean, and the river Po,

It draws toward supper in conclusion so. But this is worshipful society,

And fits the mounting spirit like myself:
For he is but a bastard to the time,
That doth not smack of observation
(And so am I, whether I smack, or no);
And not alone in habit and device,
Exterior form, outward accoutrement;
But from the inward motion to deliver
Sweet, sweet, sweet poison for the age's tooth:
Which, though I will not practise to deceive,
Yet to avoid deceit I mean to learn;

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 pains to blow a horn before her?
Enter Lady FAULCONBRIDGE and JAMES GURNEY.
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?
Bust. My brother Robert? old Sir Robert's son ?
Colbrand the giant, that same mighty man?
Is it Sir Robert's son that you seek so?
Lady F. Sir Robert's son! Ay, thou unreverend
boy,

Sir Robert's son: Why scorns't thou at Sir Robert?
He is Sir Robert's son; and so art thou.
Bast. James Gurney, wilt thou give us leave a
while?

Gur. Good leave, good Philip.
Bast.
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 he get me? Sir Robert could not do it;
We know his handiwork:-Therefore, good mother,

To whom am I beholden for these limbs ? Sir Robert never holp to make this leg.

Lady F. Hast thou conspired with thy brother too, That for thine own gain shouldst defend mine honour?

What means this scorn, thou most untoward knave? Bast. Knight, knight, good mother,-Basiliscolike:

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 F. Hast thou denied thyselfa Faulconbridge?
Bast. As faithfully as I deny the devil.
Lady F. 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,
That art the issue of my dear offence,
Which was so strongly urg'd, past my defence.

Bast. 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 awless 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.

Lew. 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.
Arth. 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.
Lew. A noble boy! Who would not do thee
right?

Aust. Upon thy check lay I this zealous kiss, As son 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,
And coops from other lands her islanders,
Whose foot spurns back the ocean's roaring tides,
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.
Const. 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.

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
But we will make it subject to this boy.