For prefent vantage would aduenture farre.
The world can witneffe, in his brothers time,
He tooke vpon him rule, and almost raigne :
Then must it follow as a doubtfull point,
That hee'l refigne the rule vnto his nephew.
I rather thinke the menace of the world
Sounds in his eares, as threats of no esteeme,
And fooner would he fcorne Europa's power,
Than loose the smallest title he enjoyes;
For questionleffe he is an Englifbman.

Lewis. Why are the English peerelesse in compare?
Braue caualiers as ere that island bred,

Haue liu'd and di'd, and dar'd, and done enough,
Yet neuer grac'd their countrey for the cause :
England is England, yeelding good and bad,
And John of England is as other Iohns.

Truft me yong Arthur, if thou like my reed,
Praise thou the French that helpe thee in this need.
Lymog. The Englishman hath little cause I trowe,
To fpend good speaches on so proud a foe.
Why Arthur here's his fpoyle that now is gone,
Who when he liu'd outrou'd his brother John:
But haftie curres that lie fo long to catch,
Come halting home, and meete their ouer-match.
But newes comes now, here's the embassadour.

Enter Chattilion.

K. Phil. And in good time, welcome my lord Chattilion: What newes? will John accord to our command ?

Chat. Be I not briefe to tell your highneffe all,

He will approach to interrupt my tale :

For one felfe bottome brought vs both to France.
He on his part will trie the chance of warre,

And

And if his words inferre affured truth,
Will loose himfelfe, and all his followers,
Ere yeeld vnto the least of your demands.
The mother queene shee taketh on amaine
Gainft lady Conftance, counting her the caufe
That doth effect this claime to Albion,
Coniuring Arthur with grandames care,
To leaue his mother; willing him fubmit
His state to John, and her protection,
Who (as fhee faith) are ftudious for his good.
More circumftance the feafon intercepts:

This is the fumme, which briefly I haue fhowne.

K. Phil. This bitter winde must nip fome-bodies fpring: Sodaine and briefe, why fo, tis harueft weather.

But fay Chattilion, what perfons of account are with him? Chat. Of England, Earle Pembrooke and Salisburie,

The onely noted' men of any name.

Next them, a bastard of the kings deceast,

A hardie wild head, tough and venturous,

With many other men of high refolue.

Then is there with them Elinor mother queene,

And Blanch her neece, daughter to the king of Spaine:
These are the prime birds of this hot aduenture.

Enter Iohn and his followers, Queene, Baftard, Earles, &c.

K. Phil. Me feemeth John, an ouer-daring spirit

Effects fome frenfie in thy rafh approach,
Treading my confines with thy armed troupes.
I rather lookt for fome fubmiffe reply

Touching the claime thy nephew Arthur makes
To that which thou vniuftly doft vfurpe.

K. Iohn. For that Chattilion can difcharge you all,
I lift not pleade my title with my tongue.

Nor

Nor came I hither with intent of wrong
To France or thee, or any right of thine;
But in defence and purchase of my right,
The towne of Angiers: which thou dost begirt
In the behalfe of lady Conftance fonne,
Whereto nor he nor she can lay iust claime.
Conftance. Yes (false intruder) if that iuft be iuft,
And head-strong vfurpation put apart,

Arthur my fonne, heire to thy elder brother,
Without ambiguous fhadow of difcent,
Is foueraigne to the fubftance thou withholdst.

2. Elinor. Mifgouernd goffip, ftaine to this resort, Occafion of these vndecided iarres,

I fay (that know) to checke thy vaine suppose,
Thy fonne hath naught to do with that he claimes.
For proofe whereof, I can inferre a will,

That barres the way he vrgeth by difcent.

Con. A will indeed, a crabbed womans will, Wherein the diuell is an ouerfeer,

And prowd dame Elinor fole executresse :

More wills than fo, on perill of my foule,

Were neuer made to hinder Arthurs right.

Arthur. But fay there was, as fure there can be none,

The law intends fuch testaments as void,

Where right difcent can no way be impeacht.

2. Elinor. Peace Arthur peace, thy mother makes thee

To foare with perill after Icarus,

And truft me yongling for the fathers fake,

I pity much the hazard of thy youth.

Conftance. Befhrew you elfe how pittifull you are,

Ready to weepe to heare him afke his owne;

Sorrow betide such grandames and fuch griefe,
That minifter a poyfon for pure loue.

(wings

But

But who fo blind, as cannot fee this beame,
That you forfooth would keepe your coufin downe,
For feare his mother should be vs'd too well?
I there's the griefe, confufion catch the braine,
That hammers fhiftes to ftop a princes raigne.

2 Elia. Impatient, franticke, common slaunderer, Immodest dame, vnnurtur'd quarreller,

I tell thee I, not enuie to thy fonne,

But iuftice makes me fpeake as I haue done.

K. Phil. But here's no proofe that fhews your fonne a kingK. I. What wants, my fword fhal more at large fet down Lew. But that may breake before the truth be known. Baft. Then this may hold till all his right be fhowne. Lym. Good words fir fauce, your betters are in place. Baft. Not you fir doughtie, with your lyons cafe. Blanch. Ah ioy betide his foule, to whom that fpoyle beAh Richard, how thy glory here is wrong'd.

long'd: Lym. Me thinks that Richards pride and Richards fall,

Should be a prefident t'affright you all.

Baft. What words are these? how do my finews shake? My fathers foe clad in my fathers fpoyle, A thousand furies kindle with reuenge, This heart that choller keepes a confiftorie, Searing my inwards with a brand of hate : How doth Alecto whisper in mine eares? Delay not Philip, kill the villaine straight, Difrobe him of the matchleffe monument

Thy fathers triumph ore the fauages,

Bafe heardgroom, coward, peafant, worfe than a threshing

flaue,

What mak'st thou with the trophie of a king?

Sham'st thou not coyftrell, loathfome dunghill fwad,

To grace thy carkaffe with an ornament

Too

Too pretious for a monarkes couerture?
Scarce can I temper due obedience
Vnto the prefence of my foueraigne,
From acting outrage on this trunke of hate:
But arme thee traytor, wronger of renowne,
For by his foule I fweare, my fathers foule,
Twife will I not reuiew the mornings rife,
Till I haue torne that trophie from thy backe,
And split thy heart for wearing it fo long.
Philip hath fworne, and if it be not done,
Let not the world repute me Richards sonne.

Lym. Nay foft fir bastard, hearts are not split fo foone,
Let them reioyce that at the end doe win:
And take this leffon at thy foe-mans hand,
Pawne not thy life to get thy fathers skin.

Blan. Wel may the world speake of his knightly valor,
That wins this hide to weare a ladies fauour.

Baft. Ill may I thriue, and nothing brooke with me,
If shortly I prefent it not to thee.

K. Phil. Lordings forbeare, for time is comming fast,
That deeds may trie what words can not determine,
And to the purpose for the cause you come.

Me feemes you fet right in chaunce of warre,
Yeelding no other reasons for your claime,
But fo and fo, because it shall be fo.

So wrong fhall be fubornd by truft of strength:
A tyrants practise to inueft himfelfe,
Where weake refiftance giueth wrong the way.
To checke the which, in holy lawfull armes,
I, in the right of Arthur, Geffreys fonne,
Am come before this city of Angiers,
To barre all other falfe fuppofed claime,
From whence, or howfoere the error fprings.

VOL. II.

P

And