Thou com'st to use thy tongue; thy story quickly. But swords I smile at, weapons laugh to scorn, Mess. Gracious my lord,

The tyrant's people on both sides do fight; The noble thanes do bravely in the war; The day almost itself professes yours, Comes toward Dunsinane.-Arm, arm, and out!-And little is to do.

SCENE VI.-The same. A plain before the cas-On mine own sword? whiles I see lives, the gashes le. Enter, with drums and colours, Malcolm. Do better upon them. Old Siward, Macduff, &c. and their army, with boughs.

As easy may'st thou the entrenchant air1
With thy keen sword impress, as make me bleed:
Let fall thy blade on vulnerable crests;

I bear a charmed life, which must not yield
To one of woman born.

Macd.

Despair thy charm ;
And let the angel, whom thou still hast serv'd,
Tell thee, Macduff was from his mother's womb
Untimely ripp'd.

Macb. Accursed be that tongue that tells me so,
For it hath cow'd my better part of man!
And be these juggling fiends no more believ'd,
That palter with us in a double sense;
That keep the word of promise to our ear,
And break it to our hope.-I'll not fight with thee.
Macd. Then yield thee, coward,

And live to be the show and gaze o'the time.
We'll have thee, as our rarer monsters are,
Painted upon a pole; and underwrit,
Here may you see the tyrant.

Macb.

I'll not yield,

To kiss the ground before young Malcolm's feet,

And to be baited with the rabble's curse.
Though Birnam wood be come to Dunsinane,
And thou oppos'd, being of no woman born,
Yet I will try the last: Before my body
I throw my warlike shield: lay on, Macduff;
And damn'd be him that first cries, Hold, enough.
[Exeunt, fighting.
Retreat. Flourish. Re-enter, with drum and
colours, Malcolm, Old Siward, Rosse, Lenox,
Angus, Cathness, Menteth, and soldiers.

Mal. I would, the friends we miss were safe ar-
riv'd.

Siw. Some must go off: and yet, by these, I see, So great a day as this is cheaply bought.

Mal. Macduff is missing, and your noble son.
Rosse. Your son, my lord, has paid a soldier's
debt:

He only liv'd but till he was a man;
The which no sooner had his prowess confirm'd
In the unshrinking station where he fought,
But like a man he died.

Then he is dead?

Siw.
Rosse. Ay, and brought off the field: your cause
of sorrow

Must not be measur'd by his worth, for then

It hath no end.

Siw.

Had he his hurts before?

Rosse. Aye, on the front.
Siw.

Mal.

He's worth more sorrow,

And that I'll spend for him.
Siw.
He's worth no more;
They say, he parted well, and paid his score:
So, God be with him!-Here comes newer comfort.
Re-enter Macduff, with Macbeth's head on a pole.

Macd. Hail, king! for so thou art: Behold,
where stands

The usurper's cursed head: the time is free:
I see thee compass'd with thy kingdom's pearl,'
That speak my salutation in their minds;
Whose voices I desire aloud with mine,-
Hail, king of Scotland!
All.

King of Scotland, hail!
[Flourish.
Mal. We shall not spend a large expense of time,
Before we reckon with your several loves,

And make us even with you. My thanes and kins

men,

Henceforth be earls, the first that ever Scotland
In such an honour nam'd. What's more to do,
Which would be planted newly with the time,-
As calling home our exil'd friends abroad,
That fled the snares of watchful tyranny;
Producing forth the cruel ministers

Of this dead butcher, and his fiend-like queen;
Who, as 'tis thought, by self and violent hands
Took off her life;-This, and what needful else
That calls upon us, by the grace of Grace,
So thanks to all at once, and to each one,
We will perform in measure, time, and place:

Whom we invite to see us crown'd at Scone.
[Flourish. Exeunt.

This play is deservedly celebrated for the propriety of its fiction, and solemnity, grandeur, and variety of its action; but it has no nice discriminations of character; the events are too great to admit the influence of particular dispositions, and the course of the action necessarily determines the conduct of the agents.

The danger of ambition is well described; and I know not whether it may not be said, in defence of some parts which now seem improbable, that in Shakspeare's time it was necessary to warn credulity against vain and illusive predictions. The passions are directed to their true end. Lady

Why then, God's soldier be he! Macbeth is merely detested; and though the courage of Macbeth preserves some esteem, yet every reader rejoices at his fall.

Had I as many sons as I have hairs,

I would not wish them to a fairer death:
And so his knell is knoll'd.

(1) The air, which cannot be cut. (2) Shuffle.

JOHNSON.

(3) The kingdom's wealth or ornament,

(339

KING JOHN.

King John.

PERSONS REPRESENTED.

Lewis, the dauphin.

Prince Henry, his son; afterward King Henry III. Arch-duke of Austria.
Arthur, duke of Bretagne, son of Geffrey, late duke Cardinal Pandulph, the pope's legate.
of Bretagne, the elder brother of King Melun, a French lord.
John.

William Marshall, earl of Pembroke.

Chatillon, ambassador from France to King John.

Geffrey Fitz-Peter, earl of Essex, chief justiciary Elinor, the widow of King Henry II. and mother of

of England.

William Longsword, earl of Salisbury.
Robert Bigot, earl of Norfolk.

Hubert de Burgh, chamberlain to the king.
Robert Faulconbridge, son of Sir Robert Faulcon-
bridge.

Philip Faulconbridge, his half-brother, bastard son
to King Richard the First.

James Gurney, servant to Lady Faulconbridge.
Peter of Pomfret, a prophet.

Philip, king of France.

АСТ І.

King John.
Constance, mother to Arthur.

Blanch, daughter to Alphonso, king of Castile, and
niece to King John.

Lady Faulconbridge, mother to the bastard, and
Robert Faulconbridge.

Lords, ladies, citizens of Angiers, sheriff, heralds,
officers, soldiers, messengers, and other attend

ants.

Scene, sometimes in England, and sometimes in
France.

The thunder of my cannon shall be heard: So, hence! Be thou the trumpet of our wrath, SCENE I-Northampton. A room of state in And sullen presage of your own decay.— the palace. Enter King John, Queen Elinor, An honourable conduct let him have :Pembroke, Essex, Salisbury, and others, with Pembroke, look to't: Farewell, Chatillon. Chatillon.

Chat. Thus, after greeting, speaks the king
France,

In my behaviour,' to the majesty,
The borrow'd majesty of England here.

[Exeunt Chatillon and Pembroke. 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?

of This might have been prevented, and made whole, With very easy arguments of love;

Eli. A strange beginning;-borrow'd majesty!
K. John. Silence, good mother; hear the em-
bassy.

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;

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.

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.

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.

Which now the manage2 of two kingdoms must
With fearful bloody issue arbitrate.

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;
Which none but heaven, and you, and I, shall hear.

Enter the Sheriff of Northamptonshire, who whis-
pers Essex.

Esser. My liege, here is the strangest controversy,
Come from the country to be judg'd by you,
That ere I heard: Shall I produce the men?
Our abbies, and our priories, shall pay
K. John. Let them approach. [Exit Sheriff.
Re-enter Sheriff, with Robert Faulconbridge, and
Philip, his bastard brother.

This expedition's charge.-What men are you?
Bast. Your faithful subject I, a gentleman,
Born in Northamptonshire; and eldest son,

K. John. Bear mine to him, and so depart in As I suppose, to Robert Faulconbridge;

peace:

Be thou as lightning in the eyes of France;

For ere thou canst report I will be there,

(1) In the manner I now do.

A soldier, by the honour-giving hand
Of Coeur-de-lion knighted in the field.

K. John. What art thou?

(2) Conduct, administration,

bridge.

K. John. Is that the elder, and art thou the heir
You came not of one mother then, it seems.
Bast. 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.

Rob. The son and heir to that same Faulcon-In sooth, good friend, your father might have kept
This call, 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.
Rob. Shall then my father's will be of no force,
To dispossess that child which is not his?
Bast. Of no more force to dispossess me, sir,
Than was his will to get me, as I think.
Eli. Whether hadst thou rather,—be a Faulcon.
bridge,

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;
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,

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,
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.
K. John. Why, what a madcap hath heaven lent
us here

Eli. He hath a trick of Caur-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?

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?!

Bast. Because he hath a half-face, like my father;
With that half-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,
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 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 mean time 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.

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
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 ?

Whether, (2) Trace, outline.
Dignity of appearance,

And like thy brother, to enjoy thy land;
Or the reputed son of Coeur-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;
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'd give it every foot to have this face;

I would not be sir Nob4 in any case,

Eli. I like thee well; Wilt thou forsake thy for-
tune,

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:

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.
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 sír Robert's wife's eldest son.
K. John. From henceforth bear his name whose

form thou bear'st:

Kneel thou down Philip, but arise more great;
Arise sir Richard, and Plantagenet.

Bust. Brother, by the mother's side, give me
your hand;

My father gave me honour, your's gave land:-
Now blessed be the hour, by night or day,

When I was got, sir Robert was away.

I

Eli. The very spirit of Plantagenet!-
am thy grandame, 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:
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.

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.
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.
Well, now can I make any Joan a lady:-
Good den, sir Richard,—God-a-mercy, fellow ;-