And damn'd be him 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. 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. Siw. Then he is dead? Rosse. Ay, and brought off the field: your cause of sorrow Must not be measur'd by his worth, for then It hath no end. They say he parted well, and paid his score: So God be with him.-Here comes newer comfort. Re-enter Macduff, with Macbeth's head on a pole. Macd. Hail, king! for so thou art: Behold, where stands The usurper's cursed head: the time is free: see thee compass'd with thy kingdom's pearl, That speak my salutation in their minds; Hail, king of Scotland! All. King of Scotland, hail ! Mal. We shall not spend a large expense of time, Before we reckon with your several loves, [Flourish. And make us even with you. My thanes and kinsmen, In such an honour nam'd. What's more to do, Of this dead butcher, and his fiend-like queen; Whom we invite to see us crown d at Scone. [Flourish. Exeunt. KING JOHN. King John. Persons Represented. PRINCE HENRY, his Son; afterwards ARTHUR, Duke of Bretagne, Son of GEFFREY FITZ-PETER, Earl of Essex, Chief Justiciary of England. WILLIAM LONGSWORD, Earl of Salisbury. ROBERT BIGOT, Earl of Norfolk. ROBERT FAULCONBRIDGE, Son of JAMES GURNEY, Servant to Lady PETER of Pomfret, a Prophet. PHILIP, King of France. MELUN, a French Lord. Ambassador from ELINOR, the Widow of King Henry LADY FAULCONBRIDGE, Mother to Lords, Ladies, Citizens of Angiers, Sheriff, Heralds, Officers, Soldiers, Messengers, and other Attendants. SCENE. Sometimes in England, and sometimes in France. Act First. SCENE I.-NORTHAMPTON. A ROOM OF STATE IN THE PALACE. Enter King John, Queen Elinor, Pembroke, Essex, Salisbury, and others, with Chatillon. K. 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. Of thy deceased brother Geffrey's son, Arthur Plantagenet, lays most lawful claim To Ireland, Poictiers, Anjou, Touraine, Maine: Desiring thee to lay aside the sword, Which sways usurpingly these several titles; K. John. What follows, if we disallow of this? 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, K. John. Bear mine to him, and so depart in peace: [Exeunt Chatillon and Pembroke. Eli. What now, my son? have I not ever said, This might have been prevented, and made whole, Which now the manage1 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 judged by you, That e'er I heard: Shall I produce the men? K. John. Let them approach, Our abbies, and our priories, shall pay [Exit Sheriff. 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, Rob. The son and heir to that same Faulconbridge. 1 Administration. Bast. Most certain of one mother, mighty king, Eli. Out on thee, rude man! thou dost shame thy mother, And wound her honour with this diffidence. Bast. I, madam? no, I have no reason for it; K. John. A good blunt fellow:-Why, being younger born, Doth he lay claim to thine inheritance? Bast. I know not why, except to get the land. And were our father, and this son like him;-- I give heaven thanks, I was not like to thee. K. John. Why, what a madcap hath heaven lent us here! The accent of his tongue affecteth him: In the large composition of this man? K. John. Mine eye hath well examined his parts, 1 Tracing. 2 Sneeringly comparing his meagre visage to the half profile on the silver groat. Then, good my liege, let me have what is mine, K. John. Sirrah, your brother is legitimate; In sooth, good friend, your father might have kept him; Bast. Of no more force to dispossess me, sir, 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? Bast. 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, 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! '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 pounds 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. Philip, my liege; so is my name begun Philip, good old Sir Robert's wife's eldest son. K. J. From henceforth bear his name whose form thou bear'st: Kneel thou down Philip, but arise more great: Arise Sir Richard, and Plantagenet. Bast. Brother, by my mother's side, give me your hand; My father gave me honour, yours gave land. Eli. The very spirit of Plantagenet ! I am thy grandame, Richard; call me so. Bast. Madam, by chance, but not by truth: What though? 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 |