Chapter: ACT I. SCENE 1.

Northampton. A Room of State in the Palace.

[Enter KING JOHN, QUEEN ELINOR, PEMBROKE, ESSEX, SALISBURY, and
others, with CHATILLON.]

KING JOHN.
Now, say, Chatillon, what would France with us?

CHATILLON.
Thus, after greeting, speaks the King of France,
In my behaviour, to the majesty,
The borrow'd majesty of England here.

ELINOR.
A strange beginning:--borrow'd majesty!

KING JOHN.
Silence, good mother; hear the embassy.

CHATILLON.
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,--
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,
Thy nephew and right royal sovereign.

KING JOHN.
What follows if we disallow of this?

CHATILLON.
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.

CHATILLON.
Then take my king's defiance from my mouth,
The farthest limit of my embassy.

KING 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:
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.]

ELINOR.
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 of two kingdoms must
With fearful bloody issue arbitrate.

KING JOHN.
Our strong possession and our right for us.

ELINOR.
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 the Sheriff of Northamptonshire, who whispers to Essex.]

ESSEX.
My liege, here is the strangest controversy,
Come from the country to be judg'd by you,
That e'er I heard: shall I produce the men?

KING JOHN.
Let them approach.--

[Exit SHERIFF.]

Our abbeys and our priories shall pay
This expedition's charge.

[Re-enter Sheriff, with ROBERT FAULCONBRIDGE and PHILIP, his
bastard Brother.]

What men are you?

BASTARD.
Your faithful subject I, a gentleman
Born in Northamptonshire, and eldest son,
As I suppose, to Robert Falconbridge,--
A soldier by the honour-giving hand
Of Coeur-de-lion knighted in the field.

KING JOHN.
What art thou?

ROBERT.
The son and heir to that same Falconbridge.

KING JOHN.
Is that the elder, and art thou the heir?
You came not of one 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 o'er to heaven and to my mother:--
Of that I doubt, as all men's children may.

ELINOR.
Out on thee, rude man! thou dost shame thy mother,
And wound her honour with this diffidence.

BASTARD.
I, madam? no, I have no reason for it,--
That is my brother's plea, and none of mine;
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!

KING JOHN.
A good blunt fellow.--Why, being younger born,
Doth he lay claim to thine inheritance?

BASTARD.
I know not why, except to get the land.
But once he slander'd me with bastardy:
But whe'er I be as true begot or no,
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.
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!

ELINOR.
He hath a trick of Coeur-de-lion's 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 brother's land?

BASTARD.
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!

ROBERT.
My gracious liege, when that my father liv'd,
Your brother did employ my father much,--

BASTARD.
Well, sir, by this you cannot get my land:
Your tale must be how he employ'd my mother.

ROBERT.
And once despatch'd him in an embassy
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 meantime sojourn'd at my father's;
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,--
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;
And 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.

KING 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
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
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,--
My mother's son did get your father's heir;
Your father's heir must have your father's land.

ROBERT.
Shall then my father's 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.

ELINOR.
Whether hadst thou rather be a Falconbridge,
And like thy brother, to enjoy thy land,
Or the reputed son of Coeur-de-lion,
Lord of thy presence and no land beside?

BASTARD.
Madam, an if my brother had my shape
And I had his, Sir Robert's his, like him;
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!'
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.

ELINOR.
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, I'll take my chance:
Your face hath got five hundred pound a-year;
Yet sell your face for fivepence and 'tis dear.--
Madam, I'll follow you unto the death.

ELINOR.
Nay, I would have you go before me thither.

BASTARD.
Our country manners give our betters way.

KING JOHN.
What is thy name?

BASTARD.
Philip, my liege, so is my name begun;
Philip, good old Sir Robert's wife's eldest son.

KING JOHN.
From henceforth bear his name whose form thou bear'st:
Kneel thou down Philip, but rise more great,--
Arise Sir Richard and Plantagenet.

BASTARD.
Brother by the mother's side, give me your hand:
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!

ELINOR.
The very spirit of Plantagenet!--
I am thy grandam, Richard; call me so.

BASTARD.
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;
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.

KING JOHN.
Go, Falconbridge; 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.

BASTARD.
Brother, adieu. Good fortune come to thee!
For thou wast got i' th' 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.
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:
'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,
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;
And then comes answer like an ABC-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:
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,--
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,
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,
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 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?

[Enter LADY FALCONBRIDGE, and JAMES GURNEY.]

O me, 'tis my mother!--w now, good lady!
What brings you here to court so hastily?

LADY FALCONBRIDGE.
Where is that slave, thy brother? where is he
That holds in chase mine honour up and down?

BASTARD.
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?

LADY FalcoNBRIDGE.
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.

BASTARD.
James Gurney, wilt thou give us leave awhile?

GURNEY.
Good leave, good Philip.

BASTARD.
Philip--sparrow!--James,
There's toys abroad:--anon I'll tell thee more.

[Exit GURNEY.]

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 not get me; Sir Robert could not do it,--
We know his handiwork:--therefore, good mother,
To whom am I beholding for these limbs?
Sir Robert never holp to make this leg.

LADY FALCONBRIDGE.
Hast thou conspired with thy brother too,
That for thine own gain shouldst defend mine honour?
What means this scorn, thou most untoward knave?

BASTARD.
Knight, knight, good mother,--Basilisco-like;
What! I am dubb'd; I have it on my shoulder.
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,--
Some proper man, I hope: who was it, mother?

LADY FalcoNBRIDGE.
Hast thou denied thyself a Falconbridge?

BASTARD.
As faithfully as I deny the devil.

LADY FALCONBRIDGE.
King Richard Coeur-de-lion was thy father:
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,
Which was so strongly urg'd, past my defence.

BASTARD.
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,--
Subjected tribute to commanding love,--
Against whose fury and unmatched force
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,
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;
  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.]

 King John enters his court with his mother, Queen Eleanor, the lords Pembroke, Essex, and Salisbury, and the French messenger Chatillon. John asks what messenger what he has to report. Chatillon says that the French King Philip speaks on behalf of John's elder brother's son Arthur, and he declares Arthur's legal claim to the throne of England and its Irish and French territories. Philip asks John to abdicate in favor of Arthur, and Chatillon insinuates that if John refuses France will declare war on England. John urges Chatillon to hasten back to France under threat of violence from England; he adamantly refuses to give up the throne. Eleanor says that Arthur's mother, Constance, must be behind this development and that she expected that Constance would stir up such trouble. John says his strong possession of the throne will aid him in future conflicts, and Eleanor agrees, though she hints that his right to the throne may be questionable. A sheriff enters leading two men who want to present a strange conflict. Falconbridge and Philip the Bastard enter. The Bastard explains that he is the eldest son of the deceased Robert Falconbridge. Falconbridge explains that he is the second son of that same Robert Falconbridge and claims to be his legitimate heir. The Bastard suggests that he and his brother had different fathers, but Eleanor scolds him for speaking so ill of his mother. It's his brother's fault, he explains, because his brother lays claim to the inheritance, declaring him to be a bastard. John asks Falconbridge why he makes such claims. Falconbridge explains that his father was away in Germany for a long time, while the former king, Richard the Lionhearted, stayed at his father's estate. His father was convinced that the Bastard was not his son and on his deathbed willed his lands to his younger son. John points out that the elder Falconbridge raised the Bastard as his son, thereby accepting him as his eldest son; a wife's sons become the husband's heirs, legally. Therefore whether or not he is Richard the Lionhearted's son, he is the elder Falconbridge's heir. Falconbridge asks if his father's will is not enough to prove his father's desire to keep the lands from the Bastard. Eleanor interrupts and asks the Bastard if he would rather claim his name as the bastard son of Richard the Lionhearted, without land, or be a Falconbridge and enjoy his property. The Bastard notes that he doesn't look anything like the elder Falconbridge, so no one would believe he was the Falconbridge heir. Eleanor, impressed with the Bastard, asks him if he would rather give his land to his brother and follow her in an attack on France. The Bastard quickly agrees. John knights the Bastard, renaming him Sir Richard Plantagenet. Everyone departs except for the Bastard, who contemplates his change of fortune. Now a knight, he expects his ambition will flourish. Flattery will aid his ascent, he believes, but he must beware of deceitful flattery. Then Lady Falconbridge and her attendant enter; she seeks Robert Falconbridge, the Bastard's brother, to scold him for dragging her reputation through the mud. The Bastard announces that he is not her husband's son and demands to know who his real father is. She asks him if he has conspired with his brother to scandalize her. He says he has given up the Falconbridge title and lands. She says that his father was Richard the Lionhearted, who seduced her when her husband was away. The Bastard assures her that he doesn't think she sinned, for he could not wish to have a better father. He promises her that he will fight with anyone who says she sinned in giving birth to him.

