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twg_000000020100 | trial in those charges Which will require your answer, you must take Your patience to you and be well contented To make your house our Tower. You a brother of us, It fits we thus proceed, or else no witness Would come against you. CRANMER. [_Kneeling_.] I humbly thank your Highness, And am right glad to catch this good occasion | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020101 | Most throughly to be winnowed, where my chaff And corn shall fly asunder. For I know Theres none stands under more calumnious tongues Than I myself, poor man. KING. Stand up, good Canterbury! Thy truth and thy integrity is rooted In us, thy friend. Give me thy hand. Stand up. Prithee, lets walk. Now, by my halidom, What manner of | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020102 | man are you? My lord, I looked You would have given me your petition that I should have taen some pains to bring together Yourself and your accusers and to have heard you Without endurance, further. CRANMER. Most dread liege, The good I stand on is my truth and honesty. If they shall fail, I with mine enemies Will triumph | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020103 | oer my person, which I weigh not, Being of those virtues vacant. I fear nothing What can be said against me. KING. Know you not How your state stands i th world, with the whole world? Your enemies are many, and not small; their practices Must bear the same proportion, and not ever The justice and the truth o th | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020104 | question carries The due o th verdict with it. At what ease Might corrupt minds procure knaves as corrupt To swear against you? Such things have been done. You are potently opposed, and with a malice Of as great size. Ween you of better luck, I mean in perjured witness, than your master, Whose minister you are, whiles here he | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020105 | lived Upon this naughty earth? Go to, go to. You take a precipice for no leap of danger, And woo your own destruction. CRANMER. God and your Majesty Protect mine innocence, or I fall into The trap is laid for me. KING. Be of good cheer. They shall no more prevail than we give way to. Keep comfort to you, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020106 | and this morning see You do appear before them. If they shall chance, In charging you with matters, to commit you, The best persuasions to the contrary Fail not to use, and with what vehemency Th occasion shall instruct you. If entreaties Will render you no remedy, this ring Deliver them, and your appeal to us There make before them. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020107 | Look, the good man weeps! Hes honest, on mine honour. Gods blest mother, I swear he is true-hearted, and a soul None better in my kingdom.Get you gone, And do as I have bid you. [_Exit Cranmer._] He has strangled His language in his tears. LOVELL. [_Within_.] Come back! What mean you? Enter Old Lady; Lovell follows. OLD LADY. Ill | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020108 | not come back. The tidings that I bring Will make my boldness manners. Now, good angels Fly oer thy royal head and shade thy person Under their blessed wings! KING. Now by thy looks I guess thy message. Is the Queen delivered? Say Ay, and of a boy. OLD LADY. Ay, ay, my liege, And of a lovely boy. The | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020109 | God of heaven Both now and ever bless her! Tis a girl Promises boys hereafter. Sir, your Queen Desires your visitation, and to be Acquainted with this stranger. Tis as like you As cherry is to cherry. KING. Lovell. LOVELL. Sir? KING. Give her an hundred marks. Ill to the Queen. [_Exit King._] OLD LADY. An hundred marks? By this | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020110 | light, Ill ha more. An ordinary groom is for such payment. I will have more or scold it out of him. Said I for this the girl was like to him? Ill have more, or else unsayt. And now, While tis hot, Ill put it to the issue. [_Exeunt._] SCENE II. Lobby before the council-chamber. Enter Cranmer, Archbishop of Canterbury. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020111 | CRANMER. I hope I am not too late, and yet the gentleman That was sent to me from the Council prayed me To make great haste. All fast? What means this? Ho! Who waits there? Enter Keeper. Sure you know me? KEEPER. Yes, my lord, But yet I cannot help you. CRANMER. Why? KEEPER. Your Grace must wait till you | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020112 | be called for. Enter Doctor Butts. CRANMER. So. BUTTS. [_Aside_.] This is a piece of malice. I am glad I came this way so happily. The King Shall understand it presently. [_Exit._] CRANMER. [_Aside_.] Tis Butts, The Kings physician. As he passed along, How earnestly he cast his eyes upon me! Pray heaven he sound not my disgrace. For certain, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020113 | This is of purpose laid by some that hate me God turn their hearts! I never sought their malice To quench mine honour. They would shame to make me Wait else at door, a fellow councillor, Mong boys, grooms, and lackeys. But their pleasures Must be fulfilled, and I attend with patience. Enter the King and Butts at a window | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020114 | above. BUTTS. Ill show your Grace the strangest sight. KING. Whats that, Butts? BUTTS. I think your Highness saw this many a day. KING. Body o me, where is it? BUTTS. There, my lord: The high promotion of his Grace of Canterbury, Who holds his state at door, mongst pursuivants, Pages, and footboys. KING. Ha! Tis he, indeed. Is this | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020115 | the honour they do one another? Tis well theres one above em yet. I had thought They had parted so much honesty among em At least good mannersas not thus to suffer A man of his place, and so near our favour, To dance attendance on their lordships pleasures, And at the door too, like a post with packets. By | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020116 | holy Mary, Butts, theres knavery! Let em alone, and draw the curtain close. We shall hear more anon. [_Exeunt._] A council table brought in with chairs and stools and placed under the state. Enter Lord Chancellor, places himself at the upper end of the table on the left hand, a seat being left void above him, as for Canterburys seat. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020117 | Duke of Suffolk, Duke of Norfolk, Surrey, Lord Chamberlain, Gardiner seat themselves in order on each side; Cromwell at lower end, as secretary. CHANCELLOR. Speak to the business, master secretary. Why are we met in council? CROMWELL. Please your honours, The chief cause concerns his Grace of Canterbury. GARDINER. Has he had knowledge of it? CROMWELL. Yes. NORFOLK. Who waits | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020118 | there? KEEPER. Without, my noble lords? GARDINER. Yes. KEEPER. My lord Archbishop, And has done half an hour, to know your pleasures. CHANCELLOR. Let him come in. KEEPER. Your Grace may enter now. Cranmer approaches the council table. CHANCELLOR. My good lord Archbishop, Im very sorry To sit here at this present and behold That chair stand empty. But we | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020119 | all are men, In our own natures frail, and capable Of our fleshfew are angelsout of which frailty And want of wisdom, you that best should teach us, Have misdemeaned yourself, and not a little, Toward the King first, then his laws, in filling The whole realm, by your teaching and your chaplains For so we are informedwith new opinions, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020120 | Divers and dangerous, which are heresies And, not reformed, may prove pernicious. GARDINER. Which reformation must be sudden too, My noble lords; for those that tame wild horses Pace em not in their hands to make em gentle, But stop their mouth with stubborn bits and spur em Till they obey the manage. If we suffer, Out of our easiness | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020121 | and childish pity To one mans honour, this contagious sickness, Farewell, all physic. And what follows then? Commotions, uproars, with a general taint Of the whole state, as of late days our neighbours, The upper Germany, can dearly witness, Yet freshly pitied in our memories. CRANMER. My good lords, hitherto in all the progress Both of my life and office, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020122 | I have laboured, And with no little study, that my teaching And the strong course of my authority Might go one way, and safely; and the end Was ever to do well. Nor is there living I speak it with a single heart, my lords A man that more detests, more stirs against, Both in his private conscience and his | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020123 | place, Defacers of a public peace than I do. Pray heaven the King may never find a heart With less allegiance in it! Men that make Envy and crooked malice nourishment Dare bite the best. I do beseech your lordships That, in this case of justice, my accusers, Be what they will, may stand forth face to face And freely | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020124 | urge against me. SUFFOLK. Nay, my lord, That cannot be. You are a councillor, And by that virtue no man dare accuse you. GARDINER. My lord, because we have business of more moment, We will be short with you. Tis his Highness pleasure And our consent, for better trial of you, From hence you be committed to the Tower, Where, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020125 | being but a private man again, You shall know many dare accuse you boldly More than, I fear, you are provided for. CRANMER. Ah, my good Lord of Winchester, I thank you. You are always my good friend. If your will pass, I shall both find your lordship judge and juror, You are so merciful. I see your end: Tis | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020126 | my undoing. Love and meekness, lord, Become a churchman better than ambition. Win straying souls with modesty again; Cast none away. That I shall clear myself, Lay all the weight ye can upon my patience, I make as little doubt as you do conscience In doing daily wrongs. I could say more, But reverence to your calling makes me modest. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020127 | GARDINER. My lord, my lord, you are a sectary, Thats the plain truth. Your painted gloss discovers, To men that understand you, words and weakness. CROMWELL. My Lord of Winchester, you are a little, By your good favour, too sharp. Men so noble, However faulty, yet should find respect For what they have been. Tis a cruelty To load a | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020128 | falling man. GARDINER. Good master secretary, I cry your honour mercy: you may worst Of all this table say so. CROMWELL. Why, my lord? GARDINER. Do not I know you for a favourer Of this new sect? Ye are not sound. CROMWELL. Not sound? GARDINER. Not sound, I say. CROMWELL. Would you were half so honest! Mens prayers then would | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020129 | seek you, not their fears. GARDINER. I shall remember this bold language. CROMWELL. Do. Remember your bold life too. CHANCELLOR. This is too much. Forbear, for shame, my lords. GARDINER. I have done. CROMWELL. And I. CHANCELLOR. Then thus for you, my lord: it stands agreed, I take it, by all voices, that forthwith You be conveyed to th Tower | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020130 | a prisoner, There to remain till the Kings further pleasure Be known unto us. Are you all agreed, lords? ALL. We are. CRANMER. Is there no other way of mercy But I must needs to th Tower, my lords? GARDINER. What other Would you expect? You are strangely troublesome. Let some o th guard be ready there. Enter the guard. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020131 | CRANMER. For me? Must I go like a traitor thither? GARDINER. Receive him, And see him safe i th Tower. CRANMER. Stay, good my lords, I have a little yet to say. Look there, my lords. By virtue of that ring, I take my cause Out of the gripes of cruel men and give it To a most noble judge, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020132 | the King my master. CHAMBERLAIN. This is the Kings ring. SURREY. Tis no counterfeit. SUFFOLK. Tis the right ring, by heaven! I told ye all, When we first put this dangerous stone a-rolling, Twould fall upon ourselves. NORFOLK. Do you think, my lords, The King will suffer but the little finger Of this man to be vexed? CHAMBERLAIN. Tis now | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020133 | too certain. How much more is his life in value with him? Would I were fairly out ont! CROMWELL. My mind gave me, In seeking tales and informations Against this man, whose honesty the devil And his disciples only envy at, Ye blew the fire that burns ye. Now have at ye! Enter King, frowning on them; takes his seat. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020134 | GARDINER. Dread sovereign, how much are we bound to heaven In daily thanks, that gave us such a prince, Not only good and wise, but most religious; One that, in all obedience, makes the Church The chief aim of his honour and, to strengthen That holy duty out of dear respect, His royal self in judgement comes to hear The | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020135 | cause betwixt her and this great offender. KING. You were ever good at sudden commendations, Bishop of Winchester. But know I come not To hear such flattery now, and in my presence They are too thin and bare to hide offences. To me you cannot reach, you play the spaniel, And think with wagging of your tongue to win me; | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020136 | But whatsoeer thou takst me for, Im sure Thou hast a cruel nature and a bloody. [_To Cranmer_.] Good man, sit down. Now let me see the proudest He, that dares most, but wag his finger at thee. By all thats holy, he had better starve Than but once think this place becomes thee not. SURREY. May it please your | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020137 | Grace KING. No, sir, it does not please me. I had thought I had had men of some understanding And wisdom of my Council, but I find none. Was it discretion, lords, to let this man, This good manfew of you deserve that title This honest man, wait like a lousy footboy At chamber door? And one as great as | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020138 | you are? Why, what a shame was this! Did my commission Bid ye so far forget yourselves? I gave ye Power as he was a councillor to try him, Not as a groom. Theres some of ye, I see, More out of malice than integrity, Would try him to the utmost, had ye mean, Which ye shall never have while | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020139 | I live. CHANCELLOR. Thus far, My most dread sovereign, may it like your Grace To let my tongue excuse all. What was purposed Concerning his imprisonment was rather, If there be faith in men, meant for his trial And fair purgation to the world than malice, Im sure, in me. KING. Well, well, my lords, respect him. Take him, and | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020140 | use him well; hes worthy of it. I will say thus much for him: if a prince May be beholding to a subject, I Am, for his love and service, so to him. Make me no more ado, but all embrace him. Be friends, for shame, my lords! My Lord of Canterbury, I have a suit which you must not | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020141 | deny me: That is, a fair young maid that yet wants baptism. You must be godfather and answer for her. CRANMER. The greatest monarch now alive may glory In such an honour. How may I deserve it, That am a poor and humble subject to you? KING. Come, come, my lord, youd spare your spoons. You shall have two noble | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020142 | partners with you: the old Duchess of Norfolk and Lady Marquess Dorset. Will these please you? Once more, my Lord of Winchester, I charge you, Embrace and love this man. GARDINER. With a true heart And brother-love I do it. CRANMER. And let heaven Witness how dear I hold this confirmation. KING. Good man, those joyful tears show thy true | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020143 | heart. The common voice, I see, is verified Of thee, which says thus: Do my Lord of Canterbury A shrewd turn, and he is your friend for ever. Come, lords, we trifle time away. I long To have this young one made a Christian. As I have made ye one, lords, one remain. So I grow stronger, you more honour | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020144 | gain. [_Exeunt._] SCENE III. The palace yard. Noise and tumult within. Enter Porter and his Man. PORTER. Youll leave your noise anon, ye rascals. Do you take the court for Parish Garden? Ye rude slaves, leave your gaping. ONE. [_Within_.] Good master porter, I belong to th larder. PORTER. Belong to th gallows, and be hanged, ye rogue! Is this | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020145 | a place to roar in? Fetch me a dozen crab-tree staves, and strong ones. These are but switches to em. Ill scratch your heads. You must be seeing christenings? Do you look for ale and cakes here, you rude rascals? PORTERS MAN. Pray, sir, be patient. Tis as much impossible Unless we sweep em from the door with cannons To | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020146 | scatter em as tis to make em sleep On May-day morning, which will never be. We may as well push against Pauls as stir em. PORTER. How got they in, and be hanged? PORTERS MAN. Alas, I know not. How gets the tide in? As much as one sound cudgel of four foot You see the poor remaindercould distribute, I | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020147 | made no spare, sir. PORTER. You did nothing, sir. PORTERS MAN. I am not Samson, nor Sir Guy, nor Colbrand, To mow em down before me; but if I spared any That had a head to hit, either young or old, He or she, cuckold or cuckold-maker, Let me neer hope to see a chine again And that I would | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020148 | not for a cow, God save her! ONE. [_Within_.] Do you hear, master porter? PORTER. I shall be with you presently, good master puppy. Keep the door close, sirrah. PORTERS MAN. What would you have me do? PORTER. What should you do, but knock em down by th dozens? Is this Moorfields to muster in? Or have we some strange | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020149 | Indian with the great tool come to court, the women so besiege us? Bless me, what a fry of fornication is at door! On my Christian conscience, this one christening will beget a thousand; here will be father, godfather, and all together. PORTERS MAN. The spoons will be the bigger, sir. There is a fellow somewhat near the doorhe should | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020150 | be a brazier by his face, for, o my conscience, twenty of the dog-days now reign ins nose. All that stand about him are under the line; they need no other penance. That fire-drake did I hit three times on the head, and three times was his nose discharged against me. He stands there, like a mortar-piece, to blow us. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020151 | There was a haberdashers wife of small wit near him that railed upon me till her pinked porringer fell off her head for kindling such a combustion in the state. I missed the meteor once and hit that woman, who cried out Clubs! when I might see from far some forty truncheoners draw to her succour, which were the hope | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020152 | o th Strand, where she was quartered. They fell on; I made good my place; at length they came to th broomstaff to me; I defied em still, when suddenly a file of boys behind em, loose shot, delivered such a shower of pebbles that I was fain to draw mine honour in and let em win the work. The | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020153 | devil was amongst em, I think, surely. PORTER. These are the youths that thunder at a playhouse and fight for bitten apples, that no audience but the tribulation of Tower Hill or the limbs of Limehouse, their dear brothers, are able to endure. I have some of em in _Limbo Patrum_, and there they are like to dance these three | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020154 | days, besides the running banquet of two beadles that is to come. Enter Lord Chamberlain. CHAMBERLAIN. Mercy o me, what a multitude are here! They grow still too. From all parts they are coming, As if we kept a fair here! Where are these porters, These lazy knaves? Youve made a fine hand, fellows! Theres a trim rabble let in. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020155 | Are all these Your faithful friends o th suburbs? We shall have Great store of room, no doubt, left for the ladies, When they pass back from the christening. PORTER. Ant please your honour, We are but men; and what so many may do, Not being torn a-pieces, we have done. An army cannot rule em. CHAMBERLAIN. As I live, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020156 | If the King blame me fort, Ill lay ye all By th heels, and suddenly, and on your heads Clap round fines for neglect. Youre lazy knaves, And here ye lie baiting of bombards, when Ye should do service. Hark, the trumpets sound! Theyre come already from the christening. Go break among the press, and find a way out To | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020157 | let the troops pass fairly, or Ill find A Marshalsea shall hold ye play these two months. PORTER. Make way there for the Princess! PORTERS MAN. You great fellow, Stand close up, or Ill make your head ache. PORTER. You i th camlet, get up o th rail! Ill peck you oer the pales else. [_Exeunt._] SCENE IV. The palace. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020158 | Enter Trumpets, sounding; then two Aldermen, Lord Mayor, Garter, Cranmer, Duke of Norfolk with his marshals staff, Duke of Suffolk, two Noblemen bearing great standing bowls for the christening gifts; then four Noblemen bearing a canopy, under which the Duchess of Norfolk, godmother, bearing the child richly habited in a mantle, etc., train borne by a Lady; then follows the | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020159 | Marchioness Dorset, the other godmother, and Ladies. The troop pass once about the stage, and Garter speaks. GARTER. Heaven, from thy endless goodness, send prosperous life, long and ever happy, to the high and mighty Princess of England, Elizabeth. Flourish. Enter King and Guard. CRANMER. [_Kneeling_.] And to your royal Grace and the good Queen, My noble partners and myself | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020160 | thus pray All comfort, joy, in this most gracious lady Heaven ever laid up to make parents happy May hourly fall upon ye! KING. Thank you, good lord Archbishop. What is her name? CRANMER. Elizabeth. KING. Stand up, lord. [_The King kisses the child._] With this kiss take my blessing: God protect thee, Into whose hand I give thy life. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020161 | CRANMER. Amen. KING. My noble gossips, youve have been too prodigal. I thank ye heartily; so shall this lady, When she has so much English. CRANMER. Let me speak, sir, For heaven now bids me; and the words I utter Let none think flattery, for theyll find em truth. This royal infantheaven still move about her! Though in her cradle, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020162 | yet now promises Upon this land a thousand thousand blessings, Which time shall bring to ripeness. She shall be But few now living can behold that goodness A pattern to all princes living with her And all that shall succeed. Saba was never More covetous of wisdom and fair virtue Than this pure soul shall be. All princely graces That | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020163 | mould up such a mighty piece as this is, With all the virtues that attend the good, Shall still be doubled on her. Truth shall nurse her; Holy and heavenly thoughts still counsel her. She shall be loved and feared. Her own shall bless her; Her foes shake like a field of beaten corn, And hang their heads with sorrow. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020164 | Good grows with her. In her days every man shall eat in safety Under his own vine what he plants, and sing The merry songs of peace to all his neighbours. God shall be truly known, and those about her From her shall read the perfect ways of honour And by those claim their greatness, not by blood. Nor shall | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020165 | this peace sleep with her; but as when The bird of wonder dies, the maiden phoenix, Her ashes new create another heir As great in admiration as herself, So shall she leave her blessedness to one, When heaven shall call her from this cloud of darkness, Who from the sacred ashes of her honour Shall star-like rise as great in | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020166 | fame as she was And so stand fixed. Peace, plenty, love, truth, terror, That were the servants to this chosen infant, Shall then be his, and like a vine grow to him. Wherever the bright sun of heaven shall shine, His honour and the greatness of his name Shall be, and make new nations. He shall flourish, And, like a | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020167 | mountain cedar, reach his branches To all the plains about him. Our childrens children Shall see this and bless heaven. KING. Thou speakest wonders. CRANMER. She shall be to the happiness of England An aged princess; many days shall see her, And yet no day without a deed to crown it. Would I had known no more! But she must | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020168 | die, She must, the saints must have her; yet a virgin, A most unspotted lily, shall she pass to the ground, And all the world shall mourn her. KING. O lord Archbishop, Thou hast made me now a man. Never before This happy child did I get anything. This oracle of comfort has so pleased me That when I am | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020169 | in heaven I shall desire To see what this child does and praise my Maker. I thank ye all. To you, my good Lord Mayor, And you, good brethren, I am much beholding. I have received much honour by your presence, And ye shall find me thankful. Lead the way, lords. Ye must all see the Queen, and she must | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020170 | thank ye; She will be sick else. This day, no man think Has business at his house, for all shall stay. This little one shall make it holiday. [_Exeunt._] Epilogue Enter Epilogue. EPILOGUE. Tis ten to one this play can never please All that are here. Some come to take their ease, And sleep an act or twobut those, we | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020171 | fear, Weve frighted with our trumpets; so, tis clear, Theyll say tis naughtothers, to hear the city Abused extremely and to cry Thats witty! Which we have not done neitherthat I fear All the expected good were like to hear For this play at this time is only in The merciful construction of good women, For such a one we | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020172 | showed em. If they smile And say twill do, I know within a while All the best men are ours; for tis ill hap If they hold when their ladies bid em clap. [_Exit._] THE LIFE AND DEATH OF KING JOHN Contents ACT I Scene I. Northampton. A Room of State in the Palace. ACT II Scene I. France. Before | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020173 | the walls of Angiers. ACT III Scene I. France. The French Kings tent. Scene II. The same. Plains near Angiers Scene III. The same. Scene IV. The same. The French Kings tent. ACT IV Scene I. Northampton. A Room in the Castle. Scene II. The same. A Room of State in the Palace. Scene III. The same. Before the castle. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020174 | ACT V Scene I. Northampton. A Room in the Palace. Scene II. Near Saint Edmundsbury. The French Camp. Scene III. The same. The Field of Battle. Scene IV. The same. Another part of the same. Scene V. The same. The French camp. Scene VI. An open place in the neighborhood of Swinstead Abbey. Scene VII. The orchard of Swinstead Abbey. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020175 | Dramatis Person KING JOHN. PRINCE HENRY, son to King John; afterwards KING HENRY III. ARTHUR, Duke of Brittany, nephew to King John. EARL OF PEMBROKE. EARL OF ESSEX. EARL OF SALISBURY. ROBERT BIGOT, Earl of Norfolk. HUBERT DE BURGH, Chamberlain to the King. ROBERT FAULCONBRIDGE, son to Sir Robert Faulconbridge. The BASTARD, PHILIP FAULCONBRIDGE, his half-brother, bastard son to King | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020176 | Richard I. JAMES GURNEY, servant to Lady Faulconbridge. PETER OF POMFRET, a prophet KING PHILIP II., King of France. LOUIS, the Dauphin; son to King Philip II. DUKE OF AUSTRIA, also called Limoges. MELUN, a French lord. CHATILLION, Ambassador from France to King John. CARDINAL PANDULPH, the Popes legate. QUEEN ELEANOR, Mother to King John and Widow of King Henry | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020177 | II. CONSTANCE, Mother to Arthur. BLANCHE OF SPAIN, Daughter to Alphonso, King of Castile, and Niece to King John. LADY FAULCONBRIDGE, Mother to the Bastard and Robert Faulconbridge. Lords, Citizens of Angiers, Sheriff, Heralds, Officers, Soldiers, Executioners, Messengers and other Attendants. SCENE: Sometimes in England, and sometimes in France. ACT I SCENE I. Northampton. A Room of State in the | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020178 | Palace. Enter King John, Queen Eleanor, Pembroke, Essex, Salisbury and others with Chatillion. KING JOHN. Now, say, Chatillion, what would France with us? CHATILLION. Thus, after greeting, speaks the King of France In my behaviour to the majesty, The borrowd majesty, of England here. QUEEN ELEANOR. A strange beginning: borrowd majesty! KING JOHN. Silence, good mother; hear the embassy. CHATILLION. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020179 | Philip of France, in right and true behalf Of thy deceased brother Geoffreys son, Arthur Plantagenet, lays most lawful claim To this fair island and the territories, To Ireland, Poitiers, Anjou, Touraine, Maine, Desiring thee to lay aside the sword Which sways usurpingly these several titles, And put the same into young Arthurs hand, Thy nephew and right royal sovereign. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020180 | KING JOHN. What follows if we disallow of this? CHATILLION. The proud control of fierce and bloody war, To enforce these rights so forcibly withheld. KING JOHN. Here have we war for war and blood for blood, Controlment for controlment: so answer France. CHATILLION. Then take my kings defiance from my mouth, The farthest limit of my embassy. KING JOHN. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020181 | 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 | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020182 | t. Farewell, Chatillion. [_Exeunt Chatillion and Pembroke._] QUEEN ELEANOR. 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? This might have been prevented and made whole With very easy arguments of love, Which now the manage | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020183 | of two kingdoms must With fearful bloody issue arbitrate. KING JOHN. Our strong possession and our right for us. QUEEN ELEANOR. 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 a Sheriff, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020184 | who whispers to Essex. ESSEX. My liege, here is the strangest controversy, Come from the country to be judgd by you, That eer I heard. Shall I produce the men? KING JOHN. Let them approach. [_Exit Sheriff._] Our abbeys and our priories shall pay This expeditions charge. Enter Robert Faulconbridge and Philip, his Bastard brother. What men are you? BASTARD. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020185 | 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 Cur-de-lion knighted in the field. KING JOHN. What art thou? ROBERT. The son and heir to that same Faulconbridge. KING JOHN. Is that the elder, and art thou the heir? You came not of one | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020186 | mother then, it seems. BASTARD. 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 oer to heaven and to my mother. Of that I doubt, as all mens children may. QUEEN ELEANOR. Out on thee, rude man! Thou dost shame thy | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020187 | mother And wound her honour with this diffidence. BASTARD. I, madam? No, I have no reason for it; That is my brothers plea, and none of mine; The which if he can prove, he pops me out At least from fair five hundred pound a year. Heaven guard my mothers honour and my land! KING JOHN. A good blunt fellow. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020188 | Why, being younger born, Doth he lay claim to thine inheritance? BASTARD. I know not why, except to get the land. But once he slanderd me with bastardy. But wheer I be as true begot or no, That still I lay upon my mothers head; But that I am as well begot, my liege Fair fall the bones that took | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020189 | 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! KING JOHN. Why, what a madcap hath heaven lent us here! QUEEN ELEANOR. He | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020190 | hath a trick of Cur-de-lions face; The accent of his tongue affecteth him. Do you not read some tokens of my son In the large composition of this man? KING JOHN. Mine eye hath well examined his parts And finds them perfect Richard. Sirrah, speak, What doth move you to claim your brothers land? BASTARD. Because he hath a half-face, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020191 | like my father. With half that face would he have all my land: A half-facd groat five hundred pound a year! ROBERT. My gracious liege, when that my father livd, Your brother did employ my father much BASTARD. Well, sir, by this you cannot get my land. Your tale must be how he employd my mother. ROBERT. And once dispatchd | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020192 | 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 meantime sojournd at my fathers; 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, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020193 | As I have heard my father speak himself, When this same lusty gentleman was got. Upon his death-bed he by will bequeathd His lands to me, and took it, on his death That this my mothers son was none of his; And if he were, he came into the world Full fourteen weeks before the course of time. Then, good | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020194 | my liege, let me have what is mine, My fathers land, as was my fathers will. KING JOHN. Sirrah, your brother is legitimate; Your fathers 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, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020195 | as you say, took pains to get this son, Had of your father claimd 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 brothers, My brother might not claim him; nor your father, Being none of his, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020196 | refuse him. This concludes; My mothers son did get your fathers heir; Your fathers heir must have your fathers land. ROBERT. Shall then my fathers will be of no force To dispossess that child which is not his? BASTARD. Of no more force to dispossess me, sir, Than was his will to get me, as I think. QUEEN ELEANOR. Whether | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020197 | hadst thou rather be: a Faulconbridge And like thy brother, to enjoy thy land, Or the reputed son of Cur-de-lion, Lord of thy presence and no land besides? BASTARD. Madam, and if my brother had my shape And I had his, Sir Roberts his, like him; And if my legs were two such riding-rods, My arms such eel-skins stuffd, my | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020198 | 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, I would give it every foot to have this face. I would not be Sir Nob in any case. QUEEN | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000020199 | ELEANOR. 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. BASTARD. Brother, take you my land, Ill take my chance. Your face hath got five hundred pound a year, Yet sell your face for five pence and tis dear. Madam, Ill follow you | 60 | gutenberg |
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