And if his name be George, I'll call him Peter;
For new-made honour doth forget mens names:
'Tis too respective and bunfociable

For your converfing. Now your traveller,
He and his tooth-pick at my worship's mess;
And when my knightly ftomach is fuffic'd,
Why then I fuck my teeth, and catechife
My † piked man of countries, my dear Sir,
(Thus leaning on mine elbow 1 begin)
I fhall befeech you, that is Question now,
And then comes Anfwer like an A BC-book:
O Sir, fays Anfwer, at your best command,
At your employment, at your fervice, Sir:
No Sir, fays Queftion, I, fweet Sir, at yours,
And fo e'er Anfwer knows what Queftion would,
(Saving in dialogue of compliment,

And talking of the Alps and Apennines,
The Pyrenean and the river Po)

It draws towards fupper in conclusion fo.
But this is worshipful fociety,

And fits the mounting fpirit like my felf:
For he is but a baftard to the time
That doth not fmack of obfervation,
And fo am 1 whether I fmoak or no
And not alone in habit and device,
Exterior form, outward accoutrement;
But from the inward motion to deliver
Sweet, fweet, fweer poifon for the ages tooth
Which tho I will not practise to deceive,
Yet, to avoid deceit, I mean to learn;
For it fhall ftrew the footsteps of my rifing.
But who comes in fuch hafte in riding robes?
What woman-poft is this? hath the no husband
That will take pains to blow a horn before her?
O me, it is my mother; now, good lady,
What brings you here to court fo hastily?

SCENE

5 too fociable, converfion, † piked, i. e. formal, bearded,

Lady. Where is that flave, thy brother?: where is he? That holds in chase mine honour up and down. Baft. My brother Robert, old Sir Robert's fon, Colbrand the giant, that fame mighty man, Is it Sir Robert's son that you seek fo?

Lady. Sir Robert's fon? ay, thou unrey'rend boy, Sir Robert's fon, why scorn'st thou at Sir Robert ?i He is Sir Robert's son ! and so art thou.

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

Baft. Philip, tfparrow, James.

There's toys abroad, anon I'll tell thee more.

[Exit James.

Madam, I was not old Sir Robert's fon.
Sir Robert might have eat his part in me
Upon Good-Friday, and ne'er broke his faft:
Sir Robert could do well;d marry confefs!
Could he get me? Sir Robert could not do it;
We know his handy-work, therefore good mother
To whom am I beholden for thefe limbs ?
Sir Robert never help'd to make this leg.

Lady. Haft thou confpir'd 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
Why I am dub'd, I have it on my fhoulder:
But mother, I am not Sir Robert's fon,

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?

+ Philip is a common name for a tame Sparrow. a marry to confefs. Could get me! &c.

Lady.

Lady. Haft thou deny'd thy felf a Faulconbridge?
Baft. As faithfully as I deny the devil.

Lady. King Richard Coeur-de-lion was thy father;
By long and vehement fuit I was feduc'd
To make room for him in my husband's bed
Heav'n lay not my tranfgreffion to my charge!
Thou art the iffue of my dear offence,
Which was fo ftrongly urg'd paft my defence.
Baft. Now by this light were 1 to get again,
Madam, I would not wifh a better father,
Some fins do bear their privilege on earth,
And fo doth yours; your fault was not your folly
Needs must you lay your heart at his difpofe,
Subjected tribute to commanding love;
Against whofe fury and unmatched force
The awless lion could not wage the fight,
Nor keep his princely heart from Richard's hands.
He that per force 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 fhew thee to my kin,

And they fhall fay, when Richard me begot, If thou hadst faid him nay, it had been fin; Who fays it was, he lyes; I say 'twas not.

强

A CT II. SCENE I

SCENE, before the walls of Angiers in France.

Enter Philip King of France, Lewis the Dauphin, the Archduke of Auftria, Conftance, and Arthur.

B

LEWIS.

EFORE Angiers, well met brave Auftria.
Arthur! that great fore-runner 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 fpread his colours, boy, in thy behalf;
And to rebuke the ufurpation

Of thy unnatural uncle, English John.

Embrace him, love him, give him welóme hither.

Arth. God fhall forgive you Cœur de-lion's death··
The rather, that you give his off-fpring life,
Shadowing their right under your wings of war.
I give you welcome with a pow'rlefs hand,
But with a heart full of unftainèd love :
Welcome before the gates of Angiers, Duke.

Lewis. 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

And coops

from other lands her islanders;

Ev'n till that England, hedg'd in with the main,
That water-walled bulwark, ftill fecure"
And confident from foreign purposes,

Ev'n till that outmoft 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 fhall help to give him ftrength, To make a more requital to your

love.

Auft. The peace of heav'n is theirs, who lift their fwords!

In fuch a juft and charitable war.

K.Philip. Well then to work, our engines fhall be bent
Against the brows of this refifting town;
Call for our chiefeft men of difcipline,
To cull the plots of beft advantages.
We'll lay before this town our royal bones,
Wade to the market-place in Frenchmens blood,
But we will make it fubject to this boy.

Conft. Stay for an answer to your embaffie,
Left unadvis'd you ftain your fwords with blood.:
My lord Chatilion may from England bring
That right in peace, which here we urge in war,.
And then we fhall repent each drop of blood
That hot rafh hafte fo indirectly fhed.

Enter Chatilion.

K. Philip. A wonder, lady! lo, upon thy with Our meffenger Chatilion is arriv'd;

What England fays, fay briefly, gentle lord,

We coldly paufe for thee. Chatilion fpeak.

Chat. Then turn your forces from this paultry fiege, And ftir them up against a mightier task. England, impatient of your juft demands,

Hath put

himfelf in arms; the adverfe winds,
Whofe leifure I have ftaid, have giv'â him time
To land his legions all as foon as I.
His marches are expedient to this town,

His