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[Enter KING JOHN, QUEEN ELINOR, PEMBROKE, ESSEX,] [p]SALISBURY, and others, with CHATILLON]
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Now, say, Chatillon, what would France with us?
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Thus, after greeting, speaks the King of France
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In my behavior to the majesty,
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The borrow'd majesty, of England here.
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A strange beginning: 'borrow'd majesty!'
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Silence, good mother; hear the embassy.
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Philip of France, in right and true behalf
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Of thy deceased brother Geffrey's son,
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Arthur Plantagenet, lays most lawful claim
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To this fair island and the territories,
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To Ireland, Poictiers, Anjou, Touraine, Maine,
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Desiring thee to lay aside the sword
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Which sways usurpingly these several titles,
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And put these same into young Arthur's hand,
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Thy nephew and right royal sovereign.
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What follows if we disallow of this?
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The proud control of fierce and bloody war,
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To enforce these rights so forcibly withheld.
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Here have we war for war and blood for blood,
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Controlment for controlment: so answer France.
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Then take my king's defiance from my mouth,
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The farthest limit of my embassy.
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Bear mine to him, and so depart in peace:
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Be thou as lightning in the eyes of France;
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For ere thou canst report I will be there,
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The thunder of my cannon shall be heard:
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So hence! Be thou the trumpet of our wrath
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And sullen presage of your own decay.
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An honourable conduct let him have:
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Pembroke, look to 't. Farewell, Chatillon.
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[Exeunt CHATILLON and PEMBROKE]
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What now, my son! have I not ever said
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How that ambitious Constance would not cease
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Till she had kindled France and all the world,
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Upon the right and party of her son?
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This might have been prevented and made whole
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With very easy arguments of love,
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Which now the manage of two kingdoms must
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With fearful bloody issue arbitrate.
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Our strong possession and our right for us.
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Your strong possession much more than your right,
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Or else it must go wrong with you and me:
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So much my conscience whispers in your ear,
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Which none but heaven and you and I shall hear.
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My liege, here is the strangest controversy
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Come from country to be judged by you,
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That e'er I heard: shall I produce the men?
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Our abbeys and our priories shall pay
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This expedition's charge.
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[Enter ROBERT and the BASTARD]
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Your faithful subject I, a gentleman
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Born in Northamptonshire and eldest son,
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As I suppose, to Robert Faulconbridge,
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A soldier, by the honour-giving hand
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Of Coeur-de-lion knighted in the field.
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The son and heir to that same Faulconbridge.
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Is that the elder, and art thou the heir?
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You came not of one mother then, it seems.
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Most certain of one mother, mighty king;
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That is well known; and, as I think, one father:
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But for the certain knowledge of that truth
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I put you o'er to heaven and to my mother:
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Of that I doubt, as all men's children may.
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Out on thee, rude man! thou dost shame thy mother
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And wound her honour with this diffidence.
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I, madam? no, I have no reason for it;
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That is my brother's plea and none of mine;
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The which if he can prove, a' pops me out
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At least from fair five hundred pound a year:
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Heaven guard my mother's honour and my land!
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A good blunt fellow. Why, being younger born,
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Doth he lay claim to thine inheritance?
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I know not why, except to get the land.
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But once he slander'd me with bastardy:
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But whether I be as true begot or no,
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That still I lay upon my mother's head,
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But that I am as well begot, my liege,—
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Fair fall the bones that took the pains for me!—
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Compare our faces and be judge yourself.
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If old sir Robert did beget us both
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And were our father and this son like him,
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O old sir Robert, father, on my knee
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I give heaven thanks I was not like to thee!
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Why, what a madcap hath heaven lent us here!
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He hath a trick of Coeur-de-lion's face;
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The accent of his tongue affecteth him.
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Do you not read some tokens of my son
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In the large composition of this man?
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Mine eye hath well examined his parts
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And finds them perfect Richard. Sirrah, speak,
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What doth move you to claim your brother's land?
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Because he hath a half-face, like my father.
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With half that face would he have all my land:
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A half-faced groat five hundred pound a year!
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My gracious liege, when that my father lived,
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Your brother did employ my father much,—
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Well, sir, by this you cannot get my land:
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Your tale must be how he employ'd my mother.
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And once dispatch'd him in an embassy
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To Germany, there with the emperor
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To treat of high affairs touching that time.
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The advantage of his absence took the king
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And in the mean time sojourn'd at my father's;
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Where how he did prevail I shame to speak,
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But truth is truth: large lengths of seas and shores
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Between my father and my mother lay,
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As I have heard my father speak himself,
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When this same lusty gentleman was got.
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Upon his death-bed he by will bequeath'd
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His lands to me, and took it on his death
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That this my mother's son was none of his;
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And if he were, he came into the world
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Full fourteen weeks before the course of time.
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Then, good my liege, let me have what is mine,
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My father's land, as was my father's will.
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Sirrah, your brother is legitimate;
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Your father's wife did after wedlock bear him,
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And if she did play false, the fault was hers;
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Which fault lies on the hazards of all husbands
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That marry wives. Tell me, how if my brother,
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Who, as you say, took pains to get this son,
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Had of your father claim'd this son for his?
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In sooth, good friend, your father might have kept
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This calf bred from his cow from all the world;
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In sooth he might; then, if he were my brother's,
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My brother might not claim him; nor your father,
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Being none of his, refuse him: this concludes;
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My mother's son did get your father's heir;
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Your father's heir must have your father's land.
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Shall then my father's will be of no force
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To dispossess that child which is not his?
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Of no more force to dispossess me, sir,
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Than was his will to get me, as I think.
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Whether hadst thou rather be a Faulconbridge
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And like thy brother, to enjoy thy land,
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Or the reputed son of Coeur-de-lion,
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Lord of thy presence and no land beside?
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Madam, an if my brother had my shape,
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And I had his, sir Robert's his, like him;
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And if my legs were two such riding-rods,
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My arms such eel-skins stuff'd, my face so thin
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That in mine ear I durst not stick a rose
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Lest men should say 'Look, where three-farthings goes!'
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And, to his shape, were heir to all this land,
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Would I might never stir from off this place,
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I would give it every foot to have this face;
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I would not be sir Nob in any case.
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I like thee well: wilt thou forsake thy fortune,
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Bequeath thy land to him and follow me?
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I am a soldier and now bound to France.
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Brother, take you my land, I'll take my chance.
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Your face hath got five hundred pound a year,
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Yet sell your face for five pence and 'tis dear.
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Madam, I'll follow you unto the death.
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Nay, I would have you go before me thither.
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Our country manners give our betters way.
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Philip, my liege, so is my name begun,
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Philip, good old sir Robert's wife's eldest son.
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From henceforth bear his name whose form thou bear'st:
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Kneel thou down Philip, but rise more great,
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Arise sir Richard and Plantagenet.
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Brother by the mother's side, give me your hand:
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My father gave me honour, yours gave land.
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Now blessed by the hour, by night or day,
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When I was got, sir Robert was away!
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The very spirit of Plantagenet!
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I am thy grandam, Richard; call me so.
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Madam, by chance but not by truth; what though?
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Something about, a little from the right,
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In at the window, or else o'er the hatch:
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Who dares not stir by day must walk by night,
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And have is have, however men do catch:
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Near or far off, well won is still well shot,
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And I am I, howe'er I was begot.
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Go, Faulconbridge: now hast thou thy desire;
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A landless knight makes thee a landed squire.
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Come, madam, and come, Richard, we must speed
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For France, for France, for it is more than need.
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Brother, adieu: good fortune come to thee!
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For thou wast got i' the way of honesty.
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[Exeunt all but BASTARD]
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A foot of honour better than I was;
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But many a many foot of land the worse.
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Well, now can I make any Joan a lady.
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'Good den, sir Richard!'—'God-a-mercy, fellow!'—
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And if his name be George, I'll call him Peter;
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For new-made honour doth forget men's names;
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'Tis too respective and too sociable
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For your conversion. Now your traveller,
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He and his toothpick at my worship's mess,
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And when my knightly stomach is sufficed,
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Why then I suck my teeth and catechise
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My picked man of countries: 'My dear sir,'
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Thus, leaning on mine elbow, I begin,
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'I shall beseech you'—that is question now;
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And then comes answer like an Absey book:
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'O sir,' says answer, 'at your best command;
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At your employment; at your service, sir;'
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'No, sir,' says question, 'I, sweet sir, at yours:'
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And so, ere answer knows what question would,
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Saving in dialogue of compliment,
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And talking of the Alps and Apennines,
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The Pyrenean and the river Po,
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It draws toward supper in conclusion so.
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But this is worshipful society
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And fits the mounting spirit like myself,
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For he is but a bastard to the time
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That doth not smack of observation;
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And so am I, whether I smack or no;
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And not alone in habit and device,
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Exterior form, outward accoutrement,
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But from the inward motion to deliver
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Sweet, sweet, sweet poison for the age's tooth:
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Which, though I will not practise to deceive,
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Yet, to avoid deceit, I mean to learn;
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For it shall strew the footsteps of my rising.
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But who comes in such haste in riding-robes?
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What woman-post is this? hath she no husband
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That will take pains to blow a horn before her?
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[Enter LADY FAULCONBRIDGE and GURNEY]
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O me! it is my mother. How now, good lady!
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What brings you here to court so hastily?
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Where is that slave, thy brother? where is he,
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That holds in chase mine honour up and down?
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My brother Robert? old sir Robert's son?
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Colbrand the giant, that same mighty man?
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Is it sir Robert's son that you seek so?
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Sir Robert's son! Ay, thou unreverend boy,
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Sir Robert's son: why scorn'st thou at sir Robert?
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He is sir Robert's son, and so art thou.
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James Gurney, wilt thou give us leave awhile?
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Good leave, good Philip.
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Philip! sparrow: James,
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There's toys abroad: anon I'll tell thee more.
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Madam, I was not old sir Robert's son:
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Sir Robert might have eat his part in me
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Upon Good-Friday and ne'er broke his fast:
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Sir Robert could do well: marry, to confess,
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Could he get me? Sir Robert could not do it:
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We know his handiwork: therefore, good mother,
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To whom am I beholding for these limbs?
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Sir Robert never holp to make this leg.
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Hast thou conspired with thy brother too,
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That for thine own gain shouldst defend mine honour?
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What means this scorn, thou most untoward knave?
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Knight, knight, good mother, Basilisco-like.
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What! I am dubb'd! I have it on my shoulder.
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But, mother, I am not sir Robert's son;
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I have disclaim'd sir Robert and my land;
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Legitimation, name and all is gone:
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Then, good my mother, let me know my father;
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Some proper man, I hope: who was it, mother?
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Hast thou denied thyself a Faulconbridge?
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As faithfully as I deny the devil.
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King Richard Coeur-de-lion was thy father:
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By long and vehement suit I was seduced
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To make room for him in my husband's bed:
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Heaven lay not my transgression to my charge!
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Thou art the issue of my dear offence,
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Which was so strongly urged past my defence.
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Now, by this light, were I to get again,
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Madam, I would not wish a better father.
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Some sins do bear their privilege on earth,
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And so doth yours; your fault was not your folly:
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Needs must you lay your heart at his dispose,
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Subjected tribute to commanding love,
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Against whose fury and unmatched force
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The aweless lion could not wage the fight,
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Nor keep his princely heart from Richard's hand.
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He that perforce robs lions of their hearts
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May easily win a woman's. Ay, my mother,
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With all my heart I thank thee for my father!
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Who lives and dares but say thou didst not well
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When I was got, I'll send his soul to hell.
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Come, lady, I will show thee to my kin;
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And they shall say, when Richard me begot,
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If thou hadst said him nay, it had been sin:
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Who says it was, he lies; I say 'twas not.
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