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,

135

Or the reputed son of Coeur-de-lion,

Lord of thy presence and no land beside?

Bast. Madam, an if my brother had my shape,

And I had his, sir Robert's his, like him;

And if my legs were two such riding-rods,

140

My arms such eel-skins stuff'd, my face so thin

That in mine ear I durst not stick a rose

Lest men should say 'Look, where three-farthings goes!'
And, to his shape, were heir to all this land,
Would I might never stir from off this place,

145

I would 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.

150*

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.

155

K. John.

From henceforth bear his name whose form thou bear'st:

160

Kneel thou down Philip, but rise 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 grandam, 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 is 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 de

sire;

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 Bastard.

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!'-'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,

165

170

175

180

185

He and his toothpick at my worship's mess,
And when my knightly stomach is sufficed,
Why then I suck my teeth and catechize
My picked man of countries: 'My dear sir,'
Thus, leaning on mine elbow, I begin,
'I 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?

190

195

200

205

210

215

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?

220

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

225

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 scorn'st thou at sir Robert?
He is sir Robert's son, and so art thou.

Bast. James Gurney, wilt thou give us leave awhile?
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 beholding 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?

230

235

240

Bast. 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;

245

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?

250

Lady F. Hast thou denied thyself a 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 seduced

To make room for him in my husband's bed:

255

Heaven lay not my transgression to my charge!
Thou art the issue of my dear offence,

Which was so strongly urged past my defence.

Bast. Now, by this light, were I to get again,

Madam, I would not wish a better father.

260

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,

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;

270