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Who dares not ftir 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. 7ohn. Go, Faulcorbridge, now haft thou thy desire,
A Landlesi Koight, makes thee a Landed Squire :
Come Madam, and come Richard, we must speed
För France, for France, for it is more than need.

Bast. Brother, adieu, good Fortune come to thee, For thou wast got i'th’ way of honesty. [Ex. all but Bajardo 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-denn, Sir Richard, Godamercy Fellow, And if his Name be George, I'll call him Peter; For new made Honour doth forget Mens Names: 'Tis too refpe&ive, and too fociable For your Conversion, now your Traveller, He and his Tooth-pick, at my Worship's Mess, And when my Knightly Stomach is fuffic'd, Why then I fuck my Teeth, and Catechise My picked Man of Countrys; 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, fays Question, I, Tweet Sir, at yours, And so e'er Answer knows what Quefticn would, : Saving in Dialogue of Compliment, And talking of the Alpes and Appenines, Tbe Pyrennean and the River Po, It draws towards Supper in conclufion lo. But this is worshipful Society, And fits the mounting Spirit like my self; For he is but a Bastard to the time Thar do:h noe smoak of Observation, And so am I wherher I smack or no; And not alone in Habit and Device, Exteri r Form, outward Acoutrement; But from the inward Morion to deliver

Sweet,

What will take Panother; how i fo hastily.mes Gurney: hes

Sweet, sweet, sweet Poison for the Ages 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 hafte in riding Robes?
What Woman-post is this? Hath the no Husband
That will take Pains to blow a Horn before her,
O me, 'tis my Mother; how now, good Lady?
What brings you here to Court fo hastily?

Enter Lady Faulconbridge and James Gurney. Lady. Where is that Slave, thy Brother? Where is he? That holds in chase mine Honour up and down.

Baft. My Brother Robert, old Sir Robert's Son,
Colbrand the Giant, that same mighty Man,
Is it Sir Robert's Son that you seek fo?

Lady. Sir Robert's Son! ay, thou unreverend Boy,
Sir Robert's Son, why scornest thou at Sir Robert ?
He is Sir Robert's Son, and so art chou.

Baft. James Gurney, wilt thou give us leave a while ?
Gur. Good leave, good Philip.

Balt. Philip, Sparrow, James,
There's Toys abroad, anon I'll tell thee more. [Exit Jamies.
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 get me ! Sir Robert could not do it;
We know his Handy-work, therefore good Mother
To whom am I beholding for these Limbs?
Sir Robert never holp to make this Leg.
· Lady, Hast thou conspir'd with thy Brother too,

That for thine own gain should'st defend mine Honour ?
What means this Scorn, thou most untoward Knave?

Baft. Knight, Knight, good Mosher, Basilisco-like.
What, I am dub’d, I have it on my Shoulder:
Bur 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:

Sir Robereet me standy ding Fake this chy.bd mine Knavere. Scould get his Habehold

Lady. Hast thou deny'd thy self a Faulconbridge ?
Baft. As faithfully as I deny the Devil.

Lady. King Richard Cordelion was thy Father;
By long and vehement Suit I was reduc'd
To make room for him in my Husband's Bed.
Heay'n lay nor my Tranfgreffion to my charge;
Thou art the issue of my dear Offence,
Which was so strongly urg'd past my Defence.

Bajt. 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,
Subje&ed Tribute to commanding Love,
Against whose Fury and unmatched Force,
The awless Lyon could not wage the Fight,
Nor keep his princely Heart from Richard's Hands.
He that per Force robs Lyons 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, chou did it not well
When I was got, I'll send his Soul to Hell.
Come, Lady, I will shew 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 lyes ; I say 'twas not, [Exeunt.

SCENE II.
SCENE, before the Walls of Angiers.
Enter Philip King of France, Lewis the Dauphin, Au-

stria, Constance, and Arthur.
Lewis. Before Angiers, well met brave Austria,
Arthur, that great forc-runner of thy Blood,
Richard that robb'd the Lion of his Heart,
And fought the holy Wars in Falestine,
By this brave Dirke çame early to his Grave;
And for amunds to his Pofterity,
At our Importance hither is he come,
To spread his Colours, Boy, in thy behalf;

And

.

And to rebuke the Usurpation
Of thy unnacural Uncle, English John.
Embrace him, love him, give him welcome hither.

Arth. God shall forgive you Cordelion's Death,
The rather that you give his Offspring Life,
Shadowing their Righe 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 Argiers, Duke.

Lewis. A noble Boy, who would not do thee right?

Auft. Upon thy Cheek lay I this zealous Kiss,
As Seal to this Indenture of my Love;
That to my home I will no more recurn,
Till Angiers, and the Right thou hast in France;
Together with that pále, 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 outmost Corner of the West
Salute thee for her King; 'till then, fair Boy,
Will I not think of home, but follow Arms.

Conft. 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.

Auft. The Peace of Heav'n is theirs, who lift their Swords In such a just and charitable War.

K, Philip. Well, then, to work, our Cannon shall be bent
Against the Brows of this resisting Town;
Cail 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 Frenchmens Blood,
But we will make it subject to this Boy.

Const. Stay for an Answer to your Embassie,
Left unadvis’d you stain your Swords with Blood.
My Lord Chattilion may from England bring
That Right in Peace which here we urge in War,
And then we shall repent each Drop of Blood,
That hoc rash hafte so indire&ly fhed.

Enter

Enter Chattilion,
K. Philip. A Wonder, Lady! lo! upon t
Our Messenger Chatrilion, is arriv'd;
What England says, fay briefly, gentle Lord,
We coldly pause for thee. Chattilion speak.

Chat. Then turn your Forces from this paultry Siege,
And stir them up against a mightier Task.
England, impatient of your just Demands,
Hath put himself in Arms, the adverse Winds,
Whose Leisure I have staid, have given him time

To land his Legions all as soon as I.
His Marches are expedient to this Town,
His Forces strong, his Soldiers confident,
With him along is come the Mother-Queen;
An Ate stirring him to Blood and Strife.
With her her Neice, the Lady Blanch of Spain;
With them a Bastard of the King deceas'd,
And all th' an settled Humours of the Land;
Rath, inconsiderate, fiery Volunteers,
With Ladies Faces, and fierce Dragons Spleens,
Have fold their fortunes at their native Homes,
Bearing their Birthright proudly on their Backs,
To make a Hazard of new Fortunes here;
In brief, a braver Choice of dauntless Spirits
Than now the English Bottoms have wast o'er,
Did never foar upon the swelling Tide,
To do offence and scache in Christendom.
The Interruption of their churlish Drums
Cuts off more Circumstance; they are at hand,

[Drums beat. To parly or to fight, therefore prepare. .

K. Philip. How much unlook'd for is this Expedition!

Auft. By how much unexpected, by fo much We must awake, endeavour for Defence, For Courage mountith with Occasion: Let them be welcome ther, we are prepar'd. Enter King of England, Bastard, Eliro, Blanch, Pembroke,

and others, a K. 7ohn. Peace be to France, if France in Peace permit Our just and lineal Entrance to our own; If, not bleed France, and Peace ascend to Heav'n.

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