<SPEECH 1><ACT 1><SCENE 1><2%>
<BASTARD>	<3%>
	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 Cœur-de-Lion knighted in the field.
</BASTARD>

<SPEECH 2><ACT 1><SCENE 1><2%>
<BASTARD>	<3%>
	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.
</BASTARD>

<SPEECH 3><ACT 1><SCENE 1><3%>
<BASTARD>	<3%>
	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!
</BASTARD>

<SPEECH 4><ACT 1><SCENE 1><3%>
<BASTARD>	<3%>
	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!
</BASTARD>

<SPEECH 5><ACT 1><SCENE 1><4%>
<BASTARD>	<4%>
	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!
</BASTARD>

<SPEECH 6><ACT 1><SCENE 1><4%>
<BASTARD>	<4%>
	Well, sir, by this you cannot get my land:
	Your tale must be how he employ'd my mother.
</BASTARD>

<SPEECH 7><ACT 1><SCENE 1><5%>
<BASTARD>	<6%>
	Of no more force to dispossess me, sir,
	Than was his will to get me, as I think.
</BASTARD>

<SPEECH 8><ACT 1><SCENE 1><5%>
<BASTARD>	<6%>
	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-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.
</BASTARD>

<SPEECH 9><ACT 1><SCENE 1><6%>
<BASTARD>	<6%>
	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.
</BASTARD>

<SPEECH 10><ACT 1><SCENE 1><6%>
<BASTARD>	<6%>
	Our country manners give our betters way.
</BASTARD>

<SPEECH 11><ACT 1><SCENE 1><6%>
<BASTARD>	<6%>
	Philip, my liege, so is my name begun;
	Philip, good old Sir Robert's wife's eldest son.
</BASTARD>

<SPEECH 12><ACT 1><SCENE 1><6%>
<BASTARD>	<7%>
	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!
</BASTARD>

<SPEECH 13><ACT 1><SCENE 1><6%>
<BASTARD>	<7%>
	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.
</BASTARD>

<SPEECH 14><ACT 1><SCENE 1><7%>
<BASTARD>	<7%>
	Brother, adieu: good fortune come to thee!
	For thou wast got i' the way of honesty.
<STAGE DIR>
<Exeunt all but the Bastard.>
</STAGE DIR>
	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 absey-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?

<STAGE DIR>
<Enter Lady Faulconbridge and James Gurney.>
</STAGE DIR>
	O me! it is my mother. How now, good lady!
</BASTARD>

<SPEECH 15><ACT 1><SCENE 1><8%>
<BASTARD>	<9%>
	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?
</BASTARD>

<SPEECH 16><ACT 1><SCENE 1><9%>
<BASTARD>	<9%>
	James Gurney, wilt thou give us leave awhile?
</BASTARD>

<SPEECH 17><ACT 1><SCENE 1><9%>
<BASTARD>	<9%>
	Philip! sparrow! James,
	There's toys abroad: anon I'll tell thee more.
<STAGE DIR>
<Exit Gurney.>
</STAGE DIR>
	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 handiwork: therefore, good mother,
	To whom am I beholding for these limbs?
	Sir Robert never holp to make this leg.
</BASTARD>

<SPEECH 18><ACT 1><SCENE 1><9%>
<BASTARD>	<10%>
	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?
</BASTARD>

<SPEECH 19><ACT 1><SCENE 1><10%>
<BASTARD>	<10%>
	As faithfully as I deny the devil.
</BASTARD>

<SPEECH 20><ACT 1><SCENE 1><10%>
<BASTARD>	<10%>
	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.
<STAGE DIR>
<Exeunt.>
</STAGE DIR>

</BASTARD>

<SPEECH 21><ACT 2><SCENE 1><16%>
<BASTARD>	<16%>
	Hear the crier.
</BASTARD>

<SPEECH 22><ACT 2><SCENE 1><16%>
<BASTARD>	<16%>
	One that will play the devil, sir, with you,
	An a' may catch your hide and you alone.
	You are the hare of whom the proverb goes,
	Whose valour plucks dead lions by the beard.
	I'll smoke your skin coat, an I catch you right.
	Sirrah, look to't; i' faith, I will, i' faith.
</BASTARD>

<SPEECH 23><ACT 2><SCENE 1><16%>
<BASTARD>	<17%>
	It lies as sightly on the back of him
	As great Alcides' shows upon an ass:
	But, ass, I'll take that burden from your back,
	Or lay on that shall make your shoulders crack.
</BASTARD>

<SPEECH 24><ACT 2><SCENE 1><21%>
<BASTARD>	<22%>
	Bastards, and else.
</BASTARD>

<SPEECH 25><ACT 2><SCENE 1><21%>
<BASTARD>	<22%>
	Some bastards too.
</BASTARD>

<SPEECH 26><ACT 2><SCENE 1><21%>
<BASTARD>	<22%>
	Saint George, that swing'd the dragon, and e'er since
	Sits on his horse back at mine hostess' door,
	Teach us some fence! <STAGE DIR>
<To Austria.>
</STAGE DIR> Sirrah, were I at home,
	At your den, sirrah, with your lioness,
	I would set an ox-head to your lion's hide,
	And make a monster of you.
</BASTARD>

<SPEECH 27><ACT 2><SCENE 1><22%>
<BASTARD>	<22%>
	O! tremble, for you hear the lion roar.
</BASTARD>

<SPEECH 28><ACT 2><SCENE 1><22%>
<BASTARD>	<22%>
	Speed then, to take advantage of the field.
</BASTARD>

<SPEECH 29><ACT 2><SCENE 1><24%>
<BASTARD>	<25%>
	Ha, majesty! how high thy glory towers
	When the rich blood of kings is set on fire!
	O! now doth Death line his dead chaps with steel;
	The swords of soldiers are his teeth, his fangs;
	And now he feasts, mousing the flesh of men,
	In undetermin'd differences of kings.
	Why stand these royal fronts amazed thus?
	Cry 'havoc!' kings; back to the stained field,
	You equal-potents, fiery-kindled spirits!
	Then let confusion of one part confirm
	The other's peace; till then, blows, blood, and death!
</BASTARD>

<SPEECH 30><ACT 2><SCENE 1><25%>
<BASTARD>	<25%>
	By heaven, these scroyles of Angiers flout you, kings,
	And stand securely on their battlements
	As in a theatre, whence they gape and point
	At your industrious scenes and acts of death.
	Your royal presences be rul'd by me:
	Do like the mutines of Jerusalem,
	Be friends awhile and both conjointly bend
	Your sharpest deeds of malice on this town.
	By east and west let France and England mount
	Their battering cannon charged to the mouths,
	Till their soul-fearing clamours have brawl'd down
	The flinty ribs of this contemptuous city:
	I'd play incessantly upon these jades,
	Even till unfenced desolation
	Leave them as naked as the vulgar air.
	That done, dissever your united strengths,
	And part your mingled colours once again;
	Turn face to face and bloody point to point;
	Then, in a moment, Fortune shall cull forth
	Out of one side her happy minion,
	To whom in favour she shall give the day,
	And kiss him with a glorious victory.
	How like you this wild counsel, mighty states?
	Smacks it not something of the policy?
</BASTARD>

<SPEECH 31><ACT 2><SCENE 1><26%>
<BASTARD>	<26%>
	An if thou hast the mettle of a king,
	Being wrong'd as we are by this peevish town,
	Turn thou the mouth of thy artillery,
	As we will ours, against these saucy walls;
	And when that we have dash'd them to the ground,
	Why then defy each other, and, pell-mell,
	Make work upon ourselves, for heaven or hell.
</BASTARD>

<SPEECH 32><ACT 2><SCENE 1><26%>
<BASTARD>	<27%>
	O, prudent discipline! From north to south
	Austria and France shoot in each other's mouth:
	I'll stir them to it. Come, away, away!
</BASTARD>

<SPEECH 33><ACT 2><SCENE 1><28%>
<BASTARD>	<28%>
	Here's a stay,
	That shakes the rotten carcase of old Death
	Out of his rags! Here's a large mouth, indeed,
	That spits forth death and mountains, rocks and seas,
	Talks as familiarly of roaring lions
	As maids of thirteen do of puppy-dogs.
	What cannoneer begot this lusty blood?
	He speaks plain cannon fire, and smoke and bounce;
	He gives the bastinado with his tongue;
	Our ears are cudgell'd; not a word of his
	But buffets better than a fist of France.
	'Zounds! I was never so bethump'd with words
	Since I first call'd my brother's father dad.
</BASTARD>

<SPEECH 34><ACT 2><SCENE 1><30%>
<BASTARD>	<30%>
	Drawn in the flattering table of her eye!
	Hang'd in the frowning wrinkle of her brow!
	And quarter'd in her heart! he doth espy
	Himself love's traitor: this is pity now,
	That hang'd and drawn and quarter'd, there should be
	In such a love so vile a lout as he.
</BASTARD>

<SPEECH 35><ACT 2><SCENE 1><32%>
<BASTARD>	<32%>
	Mad world! mad kings! mad composition!
	John, to stop Arthur's title in the whole,
	Hath willingly departed with a part;
	And France, whose armour conscience buckled on,
	Whom zeal and charity brought to the field
	As God's own soldier, rounded in the ear
	With that same purpose-changer, that sly devil,
	That broker, that still breaks the pate of faith,
	That daily break-vow, he that wins of all,
	Of kings, of beggars, old men, young men, maids,
	Who having no external thing to lose
	But the word 'maid,' cheats the poor maid of that,
	That smooth-fac'd gentleman, tickling Commodity,
	Commodity, the bias of the world;
	The world, who of itself is peized well,
	Made to run even upon even ground,
	Till this advantage, this vile-drawing bias,
	This sway of motion, this Commodity,
	Makes it take head from all indifferency,
	From all direction, purpose, course, intent:
	And this same bias, this Commodity,
	This bawd, this broker, this all-changing word,
	Clapp'd on the outward eye of fickle France,
	Hath drawn him from his own determin'd aid,
	From a resolv'd and honourable war,
	To a most base and vile-concluded peace.
	And why rail I on this Commodity?
	But for because he hath not woo'd me yet.
	Not that I have the power to clutch my hand
	When his fair angels would salute my palm;
	But for my hand, as unattempted yet,
	Like a poor beggar, raileth on the rich.
	Well, whiles I am a beggar, I will rail,
	And say there is no sin but to be rich;
	And being rich, my virtue then shall be
	To say there is no vice but beggary.
	Since kings break faith upon Commodity,
	Gain, be my lord, for I will worship thee!
<STAGE DIR>
<Exit.>
</STAGE DIR>

</BASTARD>

<SPEECH 36><ACT 3><SCENE 1><38%>
<BASTARD>	<39%>
	And hang a calf's-skin on those recreant limbs.
</BASTARD>

<SPEECH 37><ACT 3><SCENE 1><38%>
<BASTARD>	<39%>
	And hang a calf's-skin on those recreant limbs.
</BASTARD>

<SPEECH 38><ACT 3><SCENE 1><40%>
<BASTARD>	<41%>
	And hang a calf's-skin on his recreant limbs.
</BASTARD>

<SPEECH 39><ACT 3><SCENE 1><41%>
<BASTARD>	<41%>
	Your breeches best may carry them.
</BASTARD>

<SPEECH 40><ACT 3><SCENE 1><41%>
<BASTARD>	<42%>
	Hang nothing but a calf's-skin, most sweet lout.
</BASTARD>

<SPEECH 41><ACT 3><SCENE 1><44%>
<BASTARD>	<45%>
	Will't not be?
	Will not a calf's-skin stop that mouth of thine?
</BASTARD>

<SPEECH 42><ACT 3><SCENE 1><45%>
<BASTARD>	<46%>
	Old Time the clock-setter, that bald sexton Time,
	Is it as he will? well then, France shall rue.
</BASTARD>

<SPEECH 43><ACT 3><SCENE 2><46%>
<BASTARD>	<47%>
	Now, by my life, this day grows wondrous hot;
	Some airy devil hovers in the sky
	And pours down mischief. Austria's head lie there,
	While Philip breathes.

</BASTARD>

<SPEECH 44><ACT 3><SCENE 2><47%>
<BASTARD>	<47%>
	My lord, I rescu'd her;
	Her highness is in safety, fear you not:
	But on, my liege; for very little pains
	Will bring this labour to a happy end.
</BASTARD>

<SPEECH 45><ACT 3><SCENE 3><47%>
<BASTARD>	<48%>
	Bell, book, and candle shall not drive me back
	When gold and silver becks me to come on.
	I leave your highness. Grandam, I will pray,—
	If ever I remember to be holy,—
	For your fair safety; so I kiss your hand.
</BASTARD>

<SPEECH 46><ACT 4><SCENE 2><68%>
<BASTARD>	<68%>
	But if you be afeard to hear the worst,
	Then let the worst unheard fall on your head.
</BASTARD>

<SPEECH 47><ACT 4><SCENE 2><68%>
<BASTARD>	<68%>
	How I have sped among the clergymen,
	The sums I have collected shall express.
	But as I travell'd hither through the land,
	I find the people strangely fantasied,
	Possess'd with rumours, full of idle dreams,
	Not knowing what they fear, but full of fear.
	And here's a prophet that I brought with me
	From forth the streets of Pomfret, whom I found
	With many hundreds treading on his heels;
	To whom he sung, in rude harsh-sounding rimes,
	That, ere the next Ascension-day at noon,
	Your highness should deliver up your crown.
</BASTARD>

<SPEECH 48><ACT 4><SCENE 2><69%>
<BASTARD>	<69%>
	The French, my lord; men's mouths are full of it:
	Besides, I met Lord Bigot and Lord Salisbury,
	With eyes as red as new-enkindled fire,
	And others more, going to seek the grave
	Of Arthur, whom they say is kill'd to-night
	On your suggestion.
</BASTARD>

<SPEECH 49><ACT 4><SCENE 2><69%>
<BASTARD>	<70%>
	I will seek them out.
</BASTARD>

<SPEECH 50><ACT 4><SCENE 2><69%>
<BASTARD>	<70%>
	The spirit of the time shall teach me speed.
</BASTARD>

<SPEECH 51><ACT 4><SCENE 3><74%>
<BASTARD>	<74%>
	Once more to-day well met, distemper'd lords!
	The king by me requests your presence straight.
</BASTARD>

<SPEECH 52><ACT 4><SCENE 3><74%>
<BASTARD>	<74%>
	Whate'er you think, good words, I think, were best.
</BASTARD>

<SPEECH 53><ACT 4><SCENE 3><74%>
<BASTARD>	<75%>
	But there is little reason in your grief;
	Therefore 'twere reason you had manners now.
</BASTARD>

<SPEECH 54><ACT 4><SCENE 3><74%>
<BASTARD>	<75%>
	'Tis true; to hurt his master, no man else.
</BASTARD>

<SPEECH 55><ACT 4><SCENE 3><75%>
<BASTARD>	<76%>
	It is a damned and a bloody work;
	The graceless action of a heavy hand,
	If that it be the work of any hand.
</BASTARD>

<SPEECH 56><ACT 4><SCENE 3><76%>
<BASTARD>	<77%>
	Your sword is bright, sir; put it up again.
</BASTARD>

<SPEECH 57><ACT 4><SCENE 3><77%>
<BASTARD>	<77%>
	Keep the peace, I say.
</BASTARD>

<SPEECH 58><ACT 4><SCENE 3><77%>
<BASTARD>	<77%>
	Thou wert better gall the devil, Salisbury:
	If thou but frown on me, or stir thy foot,
	Or teach thy hasty spleen to do me shame,
	I'll strike thee dead. Put up thy sword betime:
	Or I'll so maul you and your toasting-iron,
	That you shall think the devil is come from hell.
</BASTARD>

<SPEECH 59><ACT 4><SCENE 3><78%>
<BASTARD>	<78%>
	Here's a good world! Knew you of this fair work?
	Beyond the infinite and boundless reach
	Of mercy, if thou didst this deed of death,
	Art thou damn'd, Hubert.
</BASTARD>

<SPEECH 60><ACT 4><SCENE 3><78%>
<BASTARD>	<78%>
	Ha! I'll tell thee what;
	Thou art damn'd as black—nay, nothing is so black;
	Thou art more deep damn'd than Prince Lucifer:
	There is not yet so ugly a fiend of hell
	As thou shalt be, if thou didst kill this child.
</BASTARD>

<SPEECH 61><ACT 4><SCENE 3><78%>
<BASTARD>	<78%>
	If thou didst but consent
	To this most cruel act, do but despair;
	And if thou want'st a cord, the smallest thread
	That ever spider twisted from her womb
	Will serve to strangle thee; a rush will be a beam
	To hang thee on; or wouldst thou drown thyself,
	Put but a little water in a spoon,
	And it shall be as all the ocean,
	Enough to stifle such a villain up.
	I do suspect thee very grievously.
</BASTARD>

<SPEECH 62><ACT 4><SCENE 3><78%>
<BASTARD>	<79%>
	Go, bear him in thine arms.
	I am amaz'd, methinks, and lose my way
	Among the thorns and dangers of this world.
	How easy dost thou take all England up!
	From forth this morsel of dead royalty,
	The life, the right and truth of all this realm
	Is fled to heaven; and England now is left
	To tug and scamble and to part by the teeth
	The unow'd interest of proud swelling state.
	Now for the bare-pick'd bone of majesty
	Doth dogged war bristle his angry crest,
	And snarleth in the gentle eyes of peace:
	Now powers from home and discontents at home
	Meet in one line; and vast confusion waits,—
	As doth a raven on a sick-fallen beast,—
	The imminent decay of wrested pomp.
	Now happy he whose cloak and ceinture can
	Hold out this tempest. Bear away that child
	And follow me with speed: I'll to the king:
	A thousand businesses are brief in hand,
	And heaven itself doth frown upon the land.
<STAGE DIR>
<Exeunt.>
</STAGE DIR>

</BASTARD>

<SPEECH 63><ACT 5><SCENE 1><80%>
<BASTARD>	<81%>
	All Kent hath yielded; nothing there holds out
	But Dover Castle: London hath receiv'd,
	Like a kind host, the Dauphin and his powers:
	Your nobles will not hear you, but are gone
	To offer service to your enemy;
	And wild amazement hurries up and down
	The little number of your doubtful friends.
</BASTARD>

<SPEECH 64><ACT 5><SCENE 1><81%>
<BASTARD>	<81%>
	They found him dead and cast into the streets,
	An empty casket, where the jewel of life
	By some damn'd hand was robb'd and ta'en away.
</BASTARD>

<SPEECH 65><ACT 5><SCENE 1><81%>
<BASTARD>	<81%>
	So, on my soul, he did, for aught he knew.
	But wherefore do you droop? why look you sad?
	Be great in act, as you have been in thought;
	Let not the world see fear and sad distrust
	Govern the motion of a kingly eye:
	Be stirring as the time; be fire with fire;
	Threaten the threatener, and outface the brow
	Of bragging horror: so shall inferior eyes,
	That borrow their behaviours from the great,
	Grow great by your example and put on
	The dauntless spirit of resolution.
	Away! and glister like the god of war
	When he intendeth to become the field:
	Show boldness and aspiring confidence.
	What! shall they seek the lion in his den
	And fright him there? and make him tremble there?
	O! let it not be said. Forage, and run
	To meet displeasure further from the doors,
	And grapple with him ere he comes so nigh.
</BASTARD>

<SPEECH 66><ACT 5><SCENE 1><82%>
<BASTARD>	<82%>
	O inglorious league!
	Shall we, upon the footing of our land,
	Send fair-play orders and make compromise,
	Insinuation, parley and base truce
	To arms invasive? shall a beardless boy,
	A cocker'd silken wanton, brave our fields,
	And flesh his spirit in a war-like soul,
	Mocking the air with colours idly spread,
	And find no check? Let us, my liege, to arms:
	Perchance the cardinal cannot make your peace;
	Or if he do, let it at least be said
	They saw we had a purpose of defence.
</BASTARD>

<SPEECH 67><ACT 5><SCENE 1><82%>
<BASTARD>	<83%>
	Away then, with good courage! yet, I know,
	Our party may well meet a prouder foe.
</BASTARD>

<SPEECH 68><ACT 5><SCENE 2><86%>
<BASTARD>	<87%>
	According to the fair play of the world,
	Let me have audience; I am sent to speak:
	My holy Lord of Milan, from the king
	I come, to learn how you have dealt for him;
	And, as you answer, I do know the scope
	And warrant limited unto my tongue.
</BASTARD>

<SPEECH 69><ACT 5><SCENE 2><87%>
<BASTARD>	<87%>
	By all the blood that ever fury breath'd,
	The youth says well. Now hear our English king;
	For thus his royalty doth speak in me.
	He is prepar'd; and reason too he should:
	This apish and unmannerly approach,
	This harness'd masque and unadvised revel,
	This unhair'd sauciness and boyish troops,
	The king doth smile at; and is well prepar'd
	To whip this dwarfish war, these pigmy arms,
	From out the circle of his territories.
	That hand which had the strength, even at your door,
	To cudgel you and make you take the hatch;
	To dive, like buckets, in concealed wells;
	To crouch in litter of your stable planks:
	To lie like pawns lock'd up in chests and trunks;
	To hug with swine; to seek sweet safety out
	In vaults and prisons; and to thrill and shake,
	Even at the crying of your nation's crow,
	Thinking this voice an armed Englishman:
	Shall that victorious hand be feebled here
	That in your chambers gave you chastisement?
	No! Know, the gallant monarch is in arms,
	And like an eagle o'er his aiery towers,
	To souse annoyance that comes near his nest.
	And you degenerate, you ingrate revolts,
	You bloody Neroes, ripping up the womb
	Of your dear mother England, blush for shame:
	For your own ladies and pale-visag'd maids
	Like Amazons come tripping after drums,
	Their thimbles into armed gauntlets change,
	Their neelds to lances, and their gentle hearts
	To fierce and bloody inclination.
</BASTARD>

<SPEECH 70><ACT 5><SCENE 2><88%>
<BASTARD>	<89%>
	No, I will speak.
</BASTARD>

<SPEECH 71><ACT 5><SCENE 2><88%>
<BASTARD>	<89%>
	Indeed, your drums, being beaten, will cry out;
	And so shall you, being beaten. Do but start
	An echo with the clamour of thy drum,
	And even at hand a drum is ready brac'd
	That shall reverberate all as loud as thine;
	Sound but another, and another shall
	As loud as thine rattle the welkin's ear
	And mock the deep-mouth'd thunder: for at hand,—
	Not trusting to this halting legate here,
	Whom he hath us'd rather for sport than need,—
	Is warlike John; and in his forehead sits
	A bare-ribb'd death, whose office is this day
	To feast upon whole thousands of the French.
</BASTARD>

<SPEECH 72><ACT 5><SCENE 2><88%>
<BASTARD>	<89%>
	And thou shalt find it, Dauphin, do not doubt.
</BASTARD>

<SPEECH 73><ACT 5><SCENE 6><93%>
<BASTARD>	<94%>
	A friend. What art thou?
</BASTARD>

<SPEECH 74><ACT 5><SCENE 6><93%>
<BASTARD>	<94%>
	Whither dost thou go?
</BASTARD>

<SPEECH 75><ACT 5><SCENE 6><93%>
<BASTARD>	<94%>
	Hubert, I think?
</BASTARD>

<SPEECH 76><ACT 5><SCENE 6><93%>
<BASTARD>	<94%>
	Who thou wilt: and if thou please,
	Thou mayst befriend me so much as to think
	I come one way of the Plantagenets.
</BASTARD>

<SPEECH 77><ACT 5><SCENE 6><94%>
<BASTARD>	<94%>
	Come, come; sans compliment, what news abroad?
</BASTARD>

<SPEECH 78><ACT 5><SCENE 6><94%>
<BASTARD>	<94%>
	Brief, then; and what's the news?
</BASTARD>

<SPEECH 79><ACT 5><SCENE 6><94%>
<BASTARD>	<94%>
	Show me the very wound of this ill news:
	I am no woman; I'll not swound at it.
</BASTARD>

<SPEECH 80><ACT 5><SCENE 6><94%>
<BASTARD>	<95%>
	How did he take it? who did taste to him?
</BASTARD>

<SPEECH 81><ACT 5><SCENE 6><94%>
<BASTARD>	<95%>
	Whom didst thou leave to tend his majesty?
</BASTARD>

<SPEECH 82><ACT 5><SCENE 6><94%>
<BASTARD>	<95%>
	Withhold thine indignation, mighty heaven,
	And tempt us not to bear above our power!
	I'll tell thee, Hubert, half my power this night,
	Passing these flats, are taken by the tide;
	These Lincoln Washes have devoured them:
	Myself, well-mounted, hardly have escap'd.
	Away before! conduct me to the king;
	I doubt he will be dead or ere I come.
</BASTARD>

<SPEECH 83><ACT 5><SCENE 7><97%>
<BASTARD>	<97%>
	O! I am scalded with my violent motion
	And spleen of speed to see your majesty.
</BASTARD>

<SPEECH 84><ACT 5><SCENE 7><97%>
<BASTARD>	<98%>
	The Dauphin is preparing hitherward,
	Where heaven he knows how we shall answer him:
	For in a night the best part of my power,
	As I upon advantage did remove,
	Were in the Washes all unwarily
	Devoured by the unexpected flood.
</BASTARD>

<SPEECH 85><ACT 5><SCENE 7><98%>
<BASTARD>	<98%>
	Art thou gone so? I do but stay behind
	To do the office for thee of revenge,
	And then my soul shall wait on thee to heaven,
	As it on earth hath been thy servant still.
	Now, now, you stars, that move in your right spheres,
	Where be your powers? Show now your mended faiths,
	And instantly return with me again,
	To push destruction and perpetual shame
	Out of the weak door of our fainting land.
	Straight let us seek, or straight we shall be sought:
	The Dauphin rages at our very heels.
</BASTARD>

<SPEECH 86><ACT 5><SCENE 7><98%>
<BASTARD>	<99%>
	He will the rather do it when he sees
	Ourselves well sinewed to our defence.
</BASTARD>

<SPEECH 87><ACT 5><SCENE 7><99%>
<BASTARD>	<99%>
	Let it be so. And you, my noble prince,
	With other princes that may best be spar'd,
	Shall wait upon your father's funeral.
</BASTARD>

<SPEECH 88><ACT 5><SCENE 7><99%>
<BASTARD>	<99%>
	Thither shall it then.
	And happily may your sweet self put on
	The lineal state and glory of the land!
	To whom, with all submission, on my knee,
	I do bequeath my faithful services
	And true subjection everlastingly.
</BASTARD>

<SPEECH 89><ACT 5><SCENE 7><99%>
<BASTARD>	<100%>
	O! let us pay the time but needful woe
	Since it hath been beforehand with our griefs.
	This England never did, nor never shall,
	Lie at the proud foot of a conqueror,
	But when it first did help to wound itself.
	Now these her princes are come home again,
	Come the three corners of the world in arms,
	And we shall shock them. Nought shall make us rue,
	If England to itself do rest but true.
</BASTARD>

