Reference > William Shakespeare > The Oxford Shakespeare > The Life and Death of King John > Act I. Scene I.
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William Shakespeare (1564–1616).  The Oxford Shakespeare.  1914.

The Life and Death of King John

Act I. Scene I.


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,   4
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.   8
  Chat.  Philip of France, in right and true behalf 
Of thy deceased brother Geffrey’s son, 
Arthur Plantagenet, lays most lawful claim 
To this fair island and the territories,  12
To Ireland, Poictiers, Anjou, Touraine, Maine; 
Desiring thee to lay aside the sword 
Which sways usurpingly these several titles, 
And put the same into young Arthur’s hand,  16
Thy nephew and right royal sovereign. 
  K. John.  What follows if we disallow of this? 
  Chat.  The proud control of fierce and bloody war, 
To enforce these rights so forcibly withheld.  20
  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, 
The furthest limit of my embassy.  24
  K. John.  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.  28
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’t. Farewell, Chatillon.  [Exeunt CHATILLON and PEMBROKE.  32
  Eli.  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?  36
This might have been prevented and made whole 
With very easy arguments of love, 
Which now the manage of two kingdoms must 
With fearful bloody issue arbitrate.  40
  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,  44
Which none but heaven and you and I shall hear. 
  
Enter a Sheriff, who whispers ESSEX.
 
  Essex.  My liege, here is the strangest controversy, 
Come from the country to be judg’d by you,  48
That e’er I heard: shall I produce the men? 
  K. John.  Let them approach.  [Exit Sheriff. 
Our abbeys and our priories shall pay 
This expedition’s charge.  52
  
Re-enter Sheriff, with ROBERT FAULCONBRIDGE and PHILIP, his Bastard Brother.
 
        What men are you? 
  Bast.  Your faithful subject I, a gentleman 
Born in Northamptonshire, and eldest son,  56
As I suppose, to Robert Faulconbridge, 
A soldier, by the honour-giving hand 
Of Cœur-de-Lion knighted in the field. 
  K. John.  What art thou?  60
  Rob.  The son and heir to that same Faulconbridge. 
  K. John.  Is that the elder, and art thou the heir? 
You came not of one mother than, it seems. 
  Bast.  Most certain of one mother, mighty king,  64
That is well known: and, as I think, one father: 
But for the certain knowledge of that truth 
I put you o’er to heaven and to my mother: 
Of that I doubt, as all men’s children may.  68
  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; 
That is my brother’s plea and none of mine;  72
The which if he can prove, a’ pops me out 
At least from fair five hundred pound a year: 
Heaven guard my mother’s honour and my land! 
  K. John.  A good blunt fellow. Why, being younger born,  76
Doth he lay claim to thine inheritance? 
  Bast.  I know not why, except to get the land. 
But once he slander’d me with bastardy: 
But whe’r I be as true-begot or no,  80
That still I lay upon my mother’s head; 
But that I am as well-begot, my liege,— 
Fair fall the bones that took the pains for me!— 
Compare our faces and be judge yourself.  84
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!  88
  K. John.  Why, what a madcap hath heaven lent us here! 
  Eli.  He hath a trick of Cœur-de-Lion’s face; 
The accent of his tongue affecteth him. 
Do you not read some tokens of my son  92
In the large composition of this man? 
  K. John.  Mine eye hath well examined his parts, 
And finds them perfect Richard. Sirrah, speak: 
What doth move you to claim your brother’s land?  96
  Bast.  Because he hath a half-face, like my father. 
With half that face would he have all my land; 
A half-fac’d groat five hundred pound a year! 
  Rob.  My gracious liege, when that my father liv’d, 100
Your brother did employ my father much,— 
  Bast.  Well, sir, by this you cannot get my land: 
Your tale must be how he employ’d my mother. 
  Rob.  And once dispatch’d him in an embassy 104
To Germany, there with the emperor 
To treat of high affairs touching that time. 
The advantage of his absence took the king, 
And in the mean time sojourn’d at my father’s; 108
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,— 
As I have heard my father speak himself,— 112
When this same lusty gentleman was got. 
Upon his death-bed he by will bequeath’d 
His lands to me, and took it on his death 
That this my mother’s son was none of his; 116
An if he were, he came into the world 
Full fourteen weeks before the course of time. 
Then, good my liege, let me have what is mine, 
My father’s land, as was my father’s will. 120
  K. John.  Sirrah, your brother is legitimate; 
Your father’s 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 124
That marry wives. Tell me, how if my brother, 
Who, as you say, took pains to get this son, 
Had of your father claim’d this son for his? 
In sooth, good friend, your father might have kept 128
This calf bred from his cow from all the world; 
In sooth he might: then, if he were my brother’s, 
My brother might not claim him; nor your father, 
Being none of his, refuse him: this concludes; 132
My mother’s son did get your father’s heir; 
Your father’s heir must have your father’s land. 
  Rob.  Shall then my father’s will be of no force 
To dispossess that child which is not his? 136
  Bast.  Of no more force to dispossess me, sir, 
Than was his will to get me, as I think. 
  Eli.  Whe’r hadst thou rather be a Faulconbridge 
And like thy brother, to enjoy thy land, 140
Or the reputed son of Cœur-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; 144
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!’ 148
And, to his shape, were heir to all this land, 
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. 152
  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. 156
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. 160
  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. 164
  K. John.  From henceforth bear his name whose form thou bearest: 
Kneel thou down Philip, but arise more great; 
Arise Sir Richard, and Plantagenet. 
  Bast.  Brother by the mother’s side, give me your hand: 168
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! 172
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: 176
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. 180
  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 
For France, for France, for it is more than need. 184
  Bast.  Brother, adieu: good fortune come to thee! 
For thou wast got i’ the way of honesty.  [Exeunt all but the BASTARD. 
A foot of honour better than I was, 
But many a many foot of land the worse. 188
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: 192
’Tis too respective and too sociable 
For your conversion. Now your traveller, 
He and his toothpick at my worship’s mess, 
And when my knightly stomach is suffic’d, 196
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; 200
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:’ 204
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, 208
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, 212
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, 216
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; 220
For it shall strew the footsteps of my rising. 
But who comes in such haste in riding-robes? 
What woman-post is this? hath she no husband 
That will take pains to blow a horn before her? 224
  
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, 228
That holds in chase mine honour up and down? 
  Bast.  My brother Robert? old Sir Robert’s son? 
Colbrand the giant, that same mighty man? 
Is it Sir Robert’s son that you seek so? 232
  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 a while? 236
  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: 240
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: 244
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, 248
That for thine own gain shouldst defend mine honour? 
What means this scorn, thou most untoward knave? 
  Bast.  Knight, knight, good mother, Basilisco-like. 
What! I am dubb’d; I have it on my shoulder. 252
But, 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; 256
Some proper man, I hope; who was it, mother? 
  Lady F.  Hast thou denied thyself a Faulconbridge? 
  Bast.  As faithfully as I deny the devil. 
  Lady F.  King Richard Cœur-de-Lion was thy father: 260
By long and vehement suit I was seduc’d 
To make room for him in my husband’s bed. 
Heaven lay not my transgression to my charge! 
Thou art the issue of my dear offence, 264
Which was so strongly urg’d past my defence. 
  Bast.   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, 268
And so doth yours; your fault was not your folly: 
Needs must you lay your heart at his dispose, 
Subjected tribute to commanding love, 
Against whose fury and unmatched force 272
The aweless lion could not wage the fight, 
Nor keep his princely heart from Richard’s hand. 
He that perforce robs lions of their hearts 
May easily win a woman’s. Ay, my mother, 276
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; 280
  And they shall say, when Richard me begot, 
If thou hadst said him nay, it had been sin: 
Who says it was, he lies: I say, ’twas not.  [Exeunt. 

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