The Dramatic Works of William Shakspeare

To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow; a poor player,
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,
And then is heard no more: it is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.-

1 shall report that which I say I saw,

But know not how to do it.

Enter a MESSENGER.

Thon com'st to use thy tongue; thy story quickly. But swords I smile at, weapons laugh to scorn, Brandish'd by man that's of a woinan born. Mess. Gracious my lord,

[Exit.

Macb. Well, say, Sir.

Mess. As I did stand my watch upon the

hill,

I look'd toward Birnam, and anon, methought,
The wood began to move.

Macb. Liar and slave! [Striking him.
Mess. Let me endure your wrath, if't be not

So:

Within this three mile may you see it coming;
I say, a moving grove.

Macb. If thou speak'st false,

Upon the next tree shalt thou hang alive,
Till famine cling thee: if thy speech be sooth,
I care not if thou dost for me as much.-

I pull in resolution; and begin

To doubt the equivocation of the fiend,
That lies like truth: Fear not, till Birnam
wood

Do come to Dunsinane ;-and now a wood
Comes toward Dunsinane.-Arm, arin, and

Shall, with my cousin, your right-noble son,
Lead our first battle worthy Macduff, and we,
Shall, take upon us what else remains to do,
According to our order.

Macb. My name's Macbeth.

Yo. Siw. The devil himself could not p.o nounce a title

More hateful to mine ear.

Macb. No, nor more fearful.

Yo. Siw. Thou liest, abhorred tyrant; with my sword

Siw. Fare you well.

Do we but find the tyraut's power to-night,
Let us be beaten, if we cannot fight.
Macd. Make all our trumpets speak; give
them all breath,
Those clamorous harbingers of blood and death.
[Exeunt. Alurums continued.
SCENE VII.-The same.-Another Part of

That was not born of woman? Such a one
Am I to fear, or none.

I'll prove the lie thou speak'st.

[They fight, and young SIWARD is slain. Macb. Thou wast born of woman.——

out!

If this, which he avouches, does appear,
There is nor flying hence, nor tarrying here,
I 'gin to be a-weary of the sun,

And wish the estate o'the world were now un-That strike beside us.

done.[wrack ! Ring the alarum bell:-Blow, wind! come, At least we'll die with harness on our back.

[Exeunt. SCENE VI.-The same.-A Plain before the Castle. Enter, with Drums end Colours, MALCOLM, old SIWARD, MACDUFF, &c. and their Army, with Boughs.

Mal. Now near enough; your leavy screens throw down, And show like those you are :-You, worthy uncle,

hotter name Than any is in hell.

• Shrivel.

Alarums. Enter MACDUFF. Macd. That way the noise is:-Tyrant, show thy face:

If thou be'st slain, and with no stroke of nine, My wife and children's ghost will haunt me still.

the Plain.

Enter MACBETH.

But, bear-like, I must fight the course.-What's he,

Macb. They have tied me to a stake: I can. not fly:

↑ Armour.

I cannot strike at wretched kernes, whose arms
Are hir'd to bear their staves; either thou, Mac-
beth,

Or else my sword, with an unbatter'd edge,
I sheathe again undeeded. There thou should'st
be;

By this great clatter, one of greatest note
Seems bruited: Let me find him, fortune!
And more I beg not.
[Exit. Alarum.
Enter MALCOLM and SIWARD.

Siw. This way, my lord ;-The castle's gently
render'd :

The tyrant's people on both sides do fight;
The noble thanes do bravely in the war;
The day alinost itself professes your's,
And little is to do.

Mal. We have met with foes

Enter young SIWARD. Yo. Siw. What is thy name? Macb. Thou'lt be afraid to hear it.

Yo. Siw. No; though thou call'st thyself a Here may you see the tyrant.

Maeb. I'll not yield,

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KING JOHN.

LITERARY AND HISTORICAL NOTICE.

THIS play was probably written in the year 1596. The action comprehends some of the principal events which occurred from the 34th year of King John's life to the time of his demise; or, during his short reign of seventeen years. Shakspeare has in some respects closely adhered to the old historians and chroniclers; but the Duke of Austria was not accessary to the death of Richard Coeur-de-lion; neither was John himself poisoned by a monk. However the gross licentiousness of the latter---his utter disregard of even the appearances of religion--and his habitual ridicule of the church, might favour such a supposition, it is certain that he died partly of grief, and partly of chagrin, at Newark. These incongruities, with the outline of Faulconbridge's character, our poet very likely derived from some previous dramatic production. With respect to the unfortunate Arthur, when he first fell into the power of his uncle, he was confined in the castle of Falaise, and the perfidious monarch endeavoured in vain to procure his assassination. He was afterwards conducted to the castle of Rouen, where Johu resided, and never afterwards heard of. The manner of his death is uncertain; but it is generally believed that the barbarous tyrant stabbed him with his own hand. Dr. Johnson says of this tragedy: "Though not written with the utmost power of Shakspeare, it is varied with a very pleasing interchange of incidents and characters: the lady's grief is very affecting; and the character of the Bastard con tains that mixture of greatness and levity, which this author delighted to exhibit." The latter is, indeed, as odd a personage as any author ever drew; and his language is as peculiar as his ideas; but the scene in which John so darkly proposed to Hubert the murder of his innocent nephew, is beyond the commendation of criticism. Art could add little to its perfection; no change in dramatic taste can injure it; and time itself can subtract nothing from its beauties ------Colly Cibber altered this drama, though not for the best.

ACT I.

SCENE I.-Northampton.-A Room of State
in the Palace.
Enter King JOHN, Queen ELINOR, PEMBROKE,
ESSEX, SALISBURY, and others, with CBA-

TILLON.

K. John. Now, say, Chatillon, what would
France with us?

SCENE, sometimes in England, and sometimes in France.

PETER of Pomfret, a Prophet.
PHILIP, King of France.
LEWIS, the Dauphin.
ARCH-DUKE of Austria.
CARDINAL PANDULPH, the Pope's legate.
MELUN, a French Lord.
CHATILLON, Ambassador from France to King
John.

in the manner I now do.

ELINOR, the Widow of King Henry II. and
Mother of King John.
CONSTANCE, Mother to Arthur.
BLANCH, Daughter to Alphonso, King of Cas-
tile, and Niece to King John.
LADY FAULCON BRIDGE, Mother to the Bastard,
and Robert Faulconbridge.

Lords, Ladies, Citizens of Angiers, Sherif, Heralds, Officers, Soldiers, Messengers, and other Attendants.

K. John. Silence, good mother; hear the embassy.

(half

Chat. Philip of France, in right and true be-
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,

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

In my behaviour, to the majesty,
The borrow'd majesty of England here.
Ell. A strange beginning;-borrow'd ma. To enforce these rights so forcibly withheld.
jesty!
K. John. Here have we war for war, and
blood for blood,
Controlmeat for controlineut: so answer France.

Chat. Then take my king's defiance from my | (Fair fall the bones that took the pains for me !)
mouth,
Compare our faces, and be judge yourself.
If old Sir Robert did beget us both,

The furthest limit of my embassy.

K. John. Bear mine to him and so depart in And were our father, and his son like bim ;~
O old Sir Robert, father, on my knee

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.
Eli. What now, my sont 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.
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
bear.

Enter the Sheriff of Northamptonshire, who whispers ESSEX.

Esser. My liege, here is the strangest con-
troversy,

Come from the country to be judg'd by yon,
That ere I heard: Shall I produce the men?
K. John. Let them approach.-

[Exit Sheriff.
Our abbies, and our priories, shall pay
Re-enter Sheriff, with ROBERT FAULCON-
BRIDGE, 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,
As I suppose, to Robert Faulconbridge;
A soldier, by the honour-giving hand
Of Coeur-de-lion knighted in the field.
K. John. What art thou?

Rob. The son and heir to that same Faulcon. 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.
Eli. Out on thee, rude man! thou dost shame
thy mother,

And wound her honour with this diffidence.
Bast. 1, 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-bégot, or no,
That still I lay upon my mother's head;
But, that I am as well-begot, my liege,

•Conduct, administration. + Whether.

With that half-face would he have all my land: A half-faced groat five hundred pounds a year! Rob. My gracious liege, when that my father liv'd,

Your brother did employ my father much ;~ Bast. Well, Sir, 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 Between my father and my mother lay, [shores (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 her's; 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 bro-
ther's,
[father,
My brother might not claim him: nor your
Being none of bis, refuse him :
cludes,-

This con

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 Faul-
conbridge,

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 bad 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 my ear I durst not stick a rose,
Lest men should say, Look, where three-far-
things 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 Nob⚫ in any case.

Eli. I like thee well; Wilt thou forsake thy What woman-post is this? hath she no hus

fortune,

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 firepence, and 'tis dear.
Madam, I'll follow you unto the death.

Eli. Nay, I would have you go before me thither. [way. Bast. Our country manners give our betters K. John. What is thy name?

Bast. Philip, my liege; so is my name begun; Philip, good old Sir 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 !—

Bast. Brother, by the mother's side, give me your band;

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.

Eli. The very spirit of Plantagenet !— I 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 uignt; 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 foot of land the worse. Well, now can I make any Joan a lady :-Good den Sir Richard,-God-a-mercy, fel

low;

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 tooth-pick at my worship's mess;
And when my knightly stoniach is suffic'd,
Why then I suck my teeth, and catechise'
My picked man of countries: My dear Sir,
(Thus leaning on mine elbows, 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, say's question, I, sweet Sir, at your's:
And so, ere answer knows what question would,
(Saving in dialogue of compliment;
And talking of the Alps and Appenines,
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 sinack of observation;
(Aud so am I, whether I snack, 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!

band,

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 slave, thy brother! where is he?

That holds in chase mine honour up and down! Bast. My brother Robert? old Sir Robert's son ?

Colbrand the giant, that same mighty man 1
Is it Sir Robert's son, that you seek so?

Lady F. Sir Robert's son! Aye, thou unreverend boy, Robert ! Sir Robert's son: Why scorn'st thou at Sur He is Sir Robert's son; and so art thou.

Bast. James Gurney, wilt thou give us leave a while?

Gur. Good leave, good Philip.

Bast. Philip - sparrow!-James,

There's toy's 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 he get me? Sir Robert could not do it;
We know his handy-work ;- Therefore, good
mother,

To whom am 1 beholden for these limbs?
Sir Robert never holp to make this leg.

Lady F. Hast thou conspired with thy brother too, [honour t That for thine own gain should'st defend mine What means this scorn, thou most untoward knave ?

Bast. Knight, knight, good mother,—Basiliscolike: +

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 aud 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, mo-
ther?

Lady F. Hast thou denied thyself to Faulconbridge ?

Bast. As faithfully as I deny the devil. Lady F. King Richard Coeur-de-lion was ty father;

By long and vehement suit I was seduc'd
To make room for him in my husbaud'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 wy defence.

Bast. 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 your's; your fault was not your
folly :

Need 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

band.

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.

Idle reports. A satire upon a character in an old drama called Soliman and Perioda.

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The Dramatic Works of William Shakspeare: With Glossarial Notes, a Sketch of ...