And not alone in habit and device,
Exterior form, outward accoutrement;
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;
For it shall ftrew the footsteps of my rising.-
But who comes in such haste, in riding robes ?
What woman-poft is this? hath she no husband,
That will take pains to blow a horn before her?
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 flave, thy brother? where is he? That holds in chase mine honour up and down?
Baft. My brother Robert? old fir Robert's fon? Colbrand the giant, that fame mighty man?
Is it fir Robert's son, that you seek so ?
Lady F. Sir Robert's fon! Ay, thou unreverend boy, Sir Robert's fon: Why scorn'it thou at fir Robert? He is fir Robert's fon; and fo art thou.
Baft. James Gurney, wilt thou give us leave a while? Gur. Good leave, good Philip.
Philip-fparrow!-James, There's toys abroad; anon I'll tell thee more.
Madam, I was not old fir Robert's fon;
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 confefs!)
Could he get me? Sir Robert could not do it ;
We know his handiwork :-Therefore, good mother,.
To whom am I beholden for these limbs ?
Sir Robert never holp to make this leg.
Lady F. Haft thou confpired with thy brother too, That for thine own gain should'st defend mine honour? What means this fcorn, thou most untoward knave?
Baft. Knight, knight, good mother,-Bafilifco-like:
What! I am dubb'd; I have it on my shoulder.
But, mother, I am not fir Robert's fon;
I have disclaim'd fir 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 F. Haft thou denied thyself a Faulconbridge?
Baft. As faithfully as I deny the devil.
Lady F. King Richard Cœur-de-lion was thy father; By long and vehement fuit I was feduc'd
To make room for him in my husband's bed :——
Heaven lay not my tranfgreffion to my charge!-
Thou art the iffue of my dear offence,
Which was so strongly urg'd, past my defence.
Baft. Now, by this light, were I to get again,
Madam, I would not wish a better father.
Some fins do bear their privilege on earth,
And fo doth yours; your fault was not your folly:
Needs muft you lay your heart at his difpofe,-
Subjected tribute to commanding love,-
Against whose fury and unmatched force
The awless 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,
With all my heart I thank thee for my father!
Who lives and dares but fay, thou didst not well
When I was got, I'll fend his foul to hell.
Come, lady, I will show thee to my kin;
And they shall say, when Richard me begot, If thou hadst faid him nay, it had been fin : Who fays it was, he lies; I say, 'twas not.
France. Before the walls of Angiers.
Enter, on one fide, the Archduke of Auftria, and Forces; on the other, PHILIP, King of France, and Forces, Lewis, CONSTANCE, ARTHUR, and Attendants.
Lew. Before Angiers well met, brave Austria.—
Arthur, that great forerunner of thy blood,
Richard, that robb'd the lion of his heart,
And fought the holy wars in Palestine,
By this brave duke came early to his grave:
And, for amends to his pofterity,
At our importance hither is he come,
To spread his colours, boy, in thy behalf;
And to rebuke the ufurpation
Of thy unnatural uncle, English John:
Embrace him, love him, give him welcome hither.
Arth. God fhall forgive you Cœur-de-lion's death,
The rather, that you give his offspring life,
Shadowing their right under your wings of war:
I give you welcome with a powerlefs hand,
But with a heart full of unstained love:
Welcome before the gates of Angiers, duke.
Lew. A noble boy! Who would not do thee right?
Auft. Upon thy cheek lay I this zealous kifs,
As feal to this indenture of my love;
That to my home I will no more return,
Till Angiers, and the right thou haft in France,
Together with that pale, that white-fac'd shore,
Whofe foot fpurns 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, ftill fecure
And confident from foreign purposes,
Even till that utmoft corner of the weft,
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 heaven is theirs, that lift their fwords In fuch a juft and charitable war.
K. Phi. Well then, to work; our cannon fhall be bent
Against the brows of this refifting town.――
Call for our chiefest men of discipline,
To cull the plots of beft advantages:-
We'll lay before this town our royal bones,
Wade to the marketplace in Frenchmen's blood,
But we will make it subject to this boy.
Conft. Stay for an answer to your embassy,
Left unadvis'd you stain your swords with blood:
My lord Chatillon may from England bring
That right in peace, which here we urge in war;
And then we shall repent each drop of blood,
That hot rash haste so indirectly shed.
K. Phi. A wonder, lady!-lo, upon thy wish,
Our meffenger Chatillon is arriv'd.—
What England fays, fay briefly, gentle lord,
We coldly paufe for thee; Chatillon, fpeak.
Chat. Then turn your forces from this paltry fiege,
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