SCENE VIII.-The same. Enter MENELAUS and PARIS, fighting: then THERSITES. Ther. The cuckold and the cuckold-maker are at it: Now, bull! now, dog! 'Loo, Paris, 'loo! The bull has the game. [Exeunt PARIS and MEN. Enter MARGARELON. Mar. Turn, slave, and fight. Mar. A bastard son of Priam's. Ther. I am a bastard too; I love bastards: Farewell, bastard. Mar. The devil take thee, coward. [Exeunt. SCENE IX.-Another part of the Field. Enter HECTOR. Hect. Most putrified core, so fair without, Thy goodly armour thus hath cost thy life. Now is my day's work done; I'll take good breath! Rest, sword! thou hast thy fill of blood and death! [Puts off his Helmet, and hangs his Shield behind him. Enter ACHILLES and Myrmidons. Achil. Look, Hector, how the sun begins to set; How ugly night comes breathing at his heels: chil. Strike, fellows, strike; this is the man I seek. [HECT. falls. So, Ilion, fall thou next!; now, Troy, sink down! Here lies thy heart, thy sinews, and thy bone. On, Myrmidons; and cry you all amain, "Achilles hath the mighty Hector slain." [A Retreat sounded. Hark! a retreat upon our Grecian part. Myr. The Trojan trumpets sound the like, my lord. Achil. The dragon wing of night o'erspreads the earth, And, stickler-like, the armies separate. My half-supp'd sword, that frankly + would have fed, Dio. The bruit is-Hector's slain, and by Achilles. Ajax. If it be so, yet bragless tet it be ; Great Hector was as good a man as he. Agam, March patiently along:-Let one be sent To pray Achilles see us at our tent.- SCENE XI.-Another part of the Field. Ene. Stand, ho! yet are we masters of the field: [night. Never go home; here starve we out the Enter TROILUS. Tro. Hector is slain. All. tail, Hector?-The gods forbid ! Tro. He's dead; and at the murderer's horse's [field.In beastly sort, dragg'd through the shameful Frown on, you heavens, effect your rage with speed! Sit, gods, upon your thrones, and smile at Troy! I say, at once let your brief plagues be mercy, And linger not our sure destructions on! Ane. My lord, you do discomfort all the host. Tro. You understand me not, that tell me so: I do not speak of flight, of fear, of death; But dare all imminence that gods and men Address their dangers in. Hector is gone! Who shall tell Priam so, or Hecuba? Let him that will a screech-owl aye be call'd, Go in to Troy, and say there-Hector's dead: There is a word will Priam turn to stone; Make wells and Niobes of the maids and wives, Cold statues of the youth; and, in a word, Scare Troy out of itself. But, march, away: Hector is dead; there is no more to say. Stay yet;-You vile abominable tents, Thus proudly pight? upon our Phyrgian plains, Let Titan rise as early as he dare, I'll through and through you ;-And thou, greatsiz'd coward! No space of earth shall sunder our two hates; I'll haunt thee like a wicked conscience still, That mouldeth goblins swift as frenzy thoughts. Strike a free march to Troy!-with comfort go: Hope of revenge shall hide our inward woe. [Exeunt ENEAS and Trojans. Pleas'd with this dainty bit, thus goes to bed. side, PANDARUS Pan But hear you, hear you! Tro. Hence, broker lackey! ignomy and shame INTRODUCTION TO KING JOHN. THE plays of Shakespeare which he has founded upon English history, have seized so strongly on the national mind, that they are received not as dramas only, but as history: but our poet did not invariably follow historic truth so closely as he might have done, nor are events always related with sufficient regard to their order in point of time. He seized the most dramatic incidents of a reign, and crowded them rapidly one upon another, drawing them within a narrow circle, and not unfrequently passed over some of the most important events, in reference to the political and social state of the people. In King John, no allusion is made to what every Englishman must regard as the great event of that reign-the wringing from the reluctant tyrant, at Runnymede, the great basis of our national liberties-the MAGNA CHARTA. John ascended the throne in 1199, in his thirty-second year; Shakespeare's play commences shortly after, and embraces the whole of his reign, a period of seventeen years. The first two acts of the play carry us only through the first year of John's reign, up to 1200, when he gave his niece Blanch, of Castile, in marriage to Lewis, the eldest son of Philip of France. John's divorce of his first wife, and his marriage with Isabella, the daughter of the Count of Angoulême, together with the consequent revolts of many of his barons, are passed over in silence. The death of Arthur, the young Duke of Britanny, which occurred in 1203, is not related in the manner in which it is now supposed it took place; although, as the event is shrouded in mystery, it is possible Shakespeare's account may be the correct one. A lapse of ten years occurs between the fourth and fifth acts of Shakespeare's tragedy; during which the famous dispute between John and the astute and subtle pontiff, Innocent III., took place respecting the right of appointing the Archbishop of Canterbury. After the pope had fulminated the sentences of excommunication and deposition against John, and had roused France to execute the latter decree, the feeble and vacillating monarch humbly submitted himself, and took an oath of fealty to Rome. He had previously, with flashing eyes, and lips livid with anger, thundered out to his trembling prelates these haughty words :-"By God's teeth, if you, or any of your body, dare to lay my states under interdict, I will send you and all your clergy to Rome, and confiscate your property. As for the Roman shavelings, if I find any in my dominions, I will tear out their eyes and cut off their noses, and so send them to the pope, that the nations may witness their infamy." Had not John's weakness and timidity been equal to his ferocity, he might have been the scourge of Rome and the terror of Europe. On the memorable 15th of June, 1215, John signed the Great Charter at Runnymede, having not long before said :-" And why do they not demand my crown also? By God's teeth, I will not grant them liberties which will make me a slave !" After signing this memorable deed, John was plunged in despair, and is said to have acted with the furious imbecility of a madman; he blasphemed, raved, gnashed his teeth, and gnawed sticks and straws, in the intensity of his impotent passion. He soon repented of the liberty which he had granted to his barons and his people, and made war upon them to regain it. He surrounded himself with a host of savage foreign mercenaries, the chiefs of whom were called "Manleon, the bloody;" "Falco, without bowels;" "Walter Buch, the murderer;" "Sottim, the merciless:" and "Godeschall, the iron-hearted." These ruffians gave every village they passed to the flames, and put John's English subjects to horrible tortures, to compel them to confess where they had concealed their wealth. But the hand of heaven arrested the progress of this incarnate fiend; John died in the October of the year following that in which he had placed his hand to the charter. He breathed his last at the castle of Newark, on the Trent, and not at Swinsted (or Swineshead) Abbey. It is possible that he might have been poisoned; but that story is not told by any writer of the time, and is a tradition on which we cannot place much reliance. The most probable account is, that he ate gluttonously of some peaches, and immediately after drank a quantity of new cider. This, in his distempered state, was cause enough to produce the fever which destroyed him." In considering this play without any reference to history, we must speak of it very highly: though destitute of the poetic halo which beautifies many of the bard's more imaginative dramas, it is still invested with a warlike and solemn grandeur. We feel that the theme is kingdoms, and the chief actors princes. The air seems to resound with the brazen elang of trumpets and the clash of arms; the sunbeams gild the banners of rival armies, and dance upon the plumed crests of thousands of brave knights. The interest never flags for a moment: the play has several strongly marked characters, most effectively grouped together. The dark portrait of John is finely contrasted with the bold chivalrous bastard, Faulconbridge, "the very spirit of Plantagenet," who appears to be entirely a creation of the poet. In this character, the poet has shown that great talents and energy, employed in a bad cause, seldom enjoy a lengthened triumph; but, like an ill-manned vessel on an unexplored sea, drift about in uncertainty and peril. Faulconbridge becomes a serious man, and accumulated disasters wring from his iron nature a prayer to heaven not to tempt him above his power. KING JOHN. Persons Represented. PRINCE HENRY, his Son, afterwards King Henry ARTHUR, Duke of Bretagne, Son of Geffrey, late Justiciary of England. WILLIAM LONGSWORD, Earl of Salisbury. HUBERT DE BURGH, Chamberlain to the King. Faulconbridge. PHILIP FAULCONBRIDGE his Half-brother, Bas- PHILIP, King of France. CARDINAL PANDULPH, the Pope's Legate. CHATILLON, Ambassador from France to King ELINOR, the Widow of King Henry II., and BLANCH, Daughter to Alphonso, King of Castile, LADY FAULCONBRIDGE, Mother to the Bastard and Robert Faulconbridge. Lords, Ladies, Citizens of Angiers, Sheriff, Heralds, Officers, Soldiers, Messengers, and other Attendants. SCENE. Sometimes in England, and sometimes in France. Act First. SCENE I. Northampton. A Room of State in the Palace. TILLON. K. John. Now, say, Chatillon, what would Chat. Thus, after greeting, speaks the King of The borrow'd majesty, of England here. Chat. Philip of France, in right and true behalf K. John. What follows, if we disallow of this? war, To enforce these rights so forcibly withheld. Controlment for controlment: so answer France. The furthest limit of my embassy. [peace: [Exeunt CHAT. and PEM. Eli. What now, my son? have I not ever said, How that ambitious Constance would not cease, B *In the manner I now do. Till she had kindled France, and all the world, K. John. Our strong possession, and our right, Essex. My liege, here is the strangest contro versy, Come from the country to be judg'd by you, K. John. Let them approach. [Exit Sheriff. This expedition's charge.-What men are you? Rob. The son and heir to that same Faulcon- Bast. Most certain of one mother, mighty king, And wound her honour with this diffidence. Bast. I, madam? no, I have no reason for it; 584 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, 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 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? 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? father; Bast. Because he hath a half-face, like my 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;— K. John. Sirrah, your brother is legitimate; My arms such eel-skins stuff'd; my face so thin, Your face hath got five hundred pounds a year; 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 hand; My father gave me honour, your's gave land :- I am thy grandame, Richard; call me so. K. John. Go, Faulconbridge; now hast thou 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 For thou wast got i' the way of honesty. [thee! [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,- In sooth, he might: then, if he were my bro-"O sir," says answer, "at your best command; Bast. Of no more force to dispossess me, sir, And like thy brother, to enjoy thy land; Trace, outline. + My travelled fop. At your employment; at your service, sir:"- It draws towards supper in conclusion so. For it shall strew the footsteps of my rising.- Arth. God shall forgive you Coeur-de-lion's death, Enter LADY FAULCONBRIDGE and JAMES GURNEY. 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? He is Sir Robert's son; and so art thou. [while? What means this scorn, thou most untoward knave? Bast. Knight, knight, good mother,-Basilisco-like: + What! I am dubb'd; I have it on my shoulder. Bast. As faithfully as I deny the devil. The rather, that you give his offspring life, Aust. Upon thy cheek lay I this zealous kiss, Till your strong hand shall help to give him strength, To make a more requital to your love. Aust. The peace of heaven is theirs, that lift their swords In such a just and charitable war. K. Phi. Well then, to work; our cannon shall be bent Against the brows of this resisting town.- Lady F. King Richard Coeur-de-lion was thy Wade to the market-place in Frenchmen's blood, father; By long and vehement suit I was seduc'd To make room for him in my husband's bed;- Act Second. SCENE I.-France. Before the walls of Angiers. Enter, on one side, the ARCHDUKE OF AUSTRIA, and Forces; on the other, PHILIP, King of France, and Forces; LEWIS, CONSTANCE, ARTHUR, and Attendants. Lew. BEFORE Angiers well met, brave Austria. Of thy unnatural uncle, English John : Idle reports. + A character in an old drama called Soliman and Perseda. + Importunity. But we will make it subject to this boy. Const. Stay for an answer to your embassy, Lest unadvis'd you stain your swords with blood: My Lord Chatillon may from England bring That right in peace which here we urge in war; And then we shall repent each drop of blood That hot rash haste so indirectly shed. Enter CHATILLON. K. Phi. A wonder, lady!-lo, upon thy wish, And stir them up against a mightier task. ? Best stations to overawe the town. || Immediate, expeditious. The goddess of Revenge. |