Уильям Шекспир - King John стр 2.

    O me, 'tis my mother! How now, good lady!
    What brings you here to court so hastily?
  LADY FAULCONBRIDGE. Where is that slave, thy brother?
      Where is he
    That holds in chase mine honour up and down?
  BASTARD. 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?
  LADY FAULCONBRIDGE. Sir Robert's son! Ay, thou unreverend boy,
    Sir Robert's son! Why scorn'st thou at Sir Robert?
    He is Sir Robert's son, and so art thou.
  BASTARD. James Gurney, wilt thou give us leave awhile?
  GURNEY. Good leave, good Philip.
  BASTARD. Philip-Sparrow! James,
    There's toys abroad-anon I'll tell thee more.

    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.
  LADY FAULCONBRIDGE. Hast thou conspired with thy brother too,
    That for thine own gain shouldst defend mine honour?
    What means this scorn, thou most untoward knave?
  BASTARD. 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?
  LADY FAULCONBRIDGE. Hast thou denied thyself a Faulconbridge?
  BASTARD. As faithfully as I deny the devil.
  LADY FAULCONBRIDGE. King Richard Coeur-de-lion was thy father.
    By long and vehement suit I was seduc'd
    To make room for him in my husband'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 my defence.
  BASTARD. 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.

  KING PHILIP. Before Angiers well met, brave Austria.
    Arthur, that great forerunner of thy blood,
    Richard, that robb'd the lion of his heart
    And fought the holy wars in Palestine,
    By this brave duke came early to his grave;
    And for amends to his posterity,
    At our importance hither is he come
    To spread his colours, boy, in thy behalf;
    And to rebuke the usurpation
    Of thy unnatural uncle, English John.
    Embrace him, love him, give him welcome hither.
  ARTHUR. God shall forgive you Coeur-de-lion's death
    The rather that you give his offspring life,
    Shadowing their right under your wings of war.
    I give you welcome with a powerless hand,
    But with a heart full of unstained love;
    Welcome before the gates of Angiers, Duke.
  KING PHILIP. A noble boy! Who would not do thee right?
  AUSTRIA. Upon thy cheek lay I this zealous kiss
    As seal to this indenture of my love:
    That to my home I will no more return
    Till Angiers and the right thou hast in France,
    Together with that pale, that white-fac'd shore,
    Whose foot spurns back the ocean's roaring tides
    And coops from other lands her islanders-
    Even till that England, hedg'd in with the main,
    That water-walled bulwark, still secure
    And confident from foreign purposes-
    Even till that utmost corner of the west
    Salute thee for her king. Till then, fair boy,
    Will I not think of home, but follow arms.
  CONSTANCE. O, take his mother's thanks, a widow's thanks,
    Till your strong hand shall help to give him strength
    To make a more requital to your love!
  AUSTRIA. The peace of heaven is theirs that lift their swords
    In such a just and charitable war.
  KING PHILIP. Well then, to work! Our cannon shall be bent
    Against the brows of this resisting town;
    Call for our chiefest men of discipline,
    To cull the plots of best advantages.
    We'll lay before this town our royal bones,
    Wade to the market-place in Frenchmen's blood,
    But we will make it subject to this boy.
  CONSTANCE. 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.

  KING PHILIP. A wonder, lady! Lo, upon thy wish,
    Our messenger Chatillon is arriv'd.
    What England says, say briefly, gentle lord;
    We coldly pause for thee. Chatillon, speak.
  CHATILLON. Then turn your forces from this paltry siege
    And stir them up against a mightier task.
    England, impatient of your just demands,
    Hath put himself in arms. The adverse winds,
    Whose leisure I have stay'd, have given him time
    To land his legions all as soon as I;
    His marches are expedient to this town,
    His forces strong, his soldiers confident.
    With him along is come the mother-queen,
    An Ate, stirring him to blood and strife;
    With her the Lady Blanch of Spain;
    With them a bastard of the king's deceas'd;
    And all th' unsettled humours of the land-
    Rash, inconsiderate, fiery voluntaries,
    With ladies' faces and fierce dragons' spleens-
    Have sold their fortunes at their native homes,
    Bearing their birthrights proudly on their backs,
    To make a hazard of new fortunes here.
    In brief, a braver choice of dauntless spirits
    Than now the English bottoms have waft o'er
    Did never float upon the swelling tide
    To do offence and scathe in Christendom. [Drum
beats]
    The interruption of their churlish drums
    Cuts off more circumstance: they are at hand;
    To parley or to fight, therefore prepare.
  KING PHILIP. How much unlook'd for is this expedition!
  AUSTRIA. By how much unexpected, by so much
    We must awake endeavour for defence,
    For courage mounteth with occasion.
    Let them be welcome then; we are prepar'd.

  KING JOHN. Peace be to France, if France in peace permit
    Our just and lineal entrance to our own!
    If not, bleed France, and peace ascend to heaven,
    Whiles we, God's wrathful agent, do correct
    Their proud contempt that beats His peace to heaven!
  KING PHILIP. Peace be to England, if that war return
    From France to England, there to live in peace!
    England we love, and for that England's sake
    With burden of our armour here we sweat.
    This toil of ours should be a work of thine;
    But thou from loving England art so far
    That thou hast under-wrought his lawful king,
    Cut off the sequence of posterity,
    Outfaced infant state, and done a rape
    Upon the maiden virtue of the crown.
    Look here upon thy brother Geffrey's face:
    These eyes, these brows, were moulded out of his;
    This little abstract doth contain that large
    Which died in Geffrey, and the hand of time
    Shall draw this brief into as huge a volume.
    That Geffrey was thy elder brother born,
    And this his son; England was Geffrey's right,
    And this is Geffrey's. In the name of God,
    How comes it then that thou art call'd a king,
    When living blood doth in these temples beat
    Which owe the crown that thou o'er-masterest?
  KING JOHN. From whom hast thou this great commission, France,
    To draw my answer from thy articles?
  KING PHILIP. From that supernal judge that stirs good thoughts
    In any breast of strong authority
    To look into the blots and stains of right.
    That judge hath made me guardian to this boy,
    Under whose warrant I impeach thy wrong,
    And by whose help I mean to chastise it.
  KING JOHN. Alack, thou dost usurp authority.
  KING PHILIP. Excuse it is to beat usurping down.
  ELINOR. Who is it thou dost call usurper, France?
  CONSTANCE. Let me make answer: thy usurping son.
  ELINOR. Out, insolent! Thy bastard shall be king,
    That thou mayst be a queen and check the world!
  CONSTANCE. My bed was ever to thy son as true
    As thine was to thy husband; and this boy
    Liker in feature to his father Geffrey
    Than thou and John in manners-being as Eke
    As rain to water, or devil to his dam.
    My boy a bastard! By my soul, I think
    His father never was so true begot;
    It cannot be, an if thou wert his mother.
  ELINOR. There's a good mother, boy, that blots thy father.
  CONSTANCE. There's a good grandam, boy, that would blot thee.
  AUSTRIA. Peace!
  BASTARD. Hear the crier.
  AUSTRIA. What the devil art thou?
  BASTARD. 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.
  BLANCH. O, well did he become that lion's robe
    That did disrobe the lion of that robe!
  BASTARD. 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.
  AUSTRIA. What cracker is this same that deafs our ears
    With this abundance of superfluous breath?
    King Philip, determine what we shall do straight.
  KING PHILIP. Women and fools, break off your conference.
    King John, this is the very sum of all:
    England and Ireland, Anjou, Touraine, Maine,
    In right of Arthur, do I claim of thee;
    Wilt thou resign them and lay down thy arms?
  KING JOHN. My life as soon. I do defy thee, France.
    Arthur of Britaine, yield thee to my hand,
    And out of my dear love I'll give thee more
    Than e'er the coward hand of France can win.
    Submit thee, boy.
  ELINOR. Come to thy grandam, child.
  CONSTANCE. Do, child, go to it grandam, child;
    Give grandam kingdom, and it grandam will
    Give it a plum, a cherry, and a fig.
    There's a good grandam!
  ARTHUR. Good my mother, peace!
    I would that I were low laid in my grave:
    I am not worth this coil that's made for me.
  ELINOR. His mother shames him so, poor boy, he weeps.
  CONSTANCE. Now shame upon you, whe'er she does or no!
    His grandam's wrongs, and not his mother's shames,
    Draws those heaven-moving pearls from his poor eyes,
    Which heaven shall take in nature of a fee;
    Ay, with these crystal beads heaven shall be brib'd
    To do him justice and revenge on you.
  ELINOR. Thou monstrous slanderer of heaven and earth!
  CONSTANCE. Thou monstrous injurer of heaven and earth,
    Call not me slanderer! Thou and thine usurp
    The dominations, royalties, and rights,
    Of this oppressed boy; this is thy eldest son's son,
    Infortunate in nothing but in thee.
    Thy sins are visited in this poor child;
    The canon of the law is laid on him,
    Being but the second generation
    Removed from thy sin-conceiving womb.
  KING JOHN. Bedlam, have done.
  CONSTANCE. I have but this to say-
    That he is not only plagued for her sin,
    But God hath made her sin and her the plague
    On this removed issue, plagued for her
    And with her plague; her sin his injury,
    Her injury the beadle to her sin;
    All punish'd in the person of this child,
    And all for her-a plague upon her!
  ELINOR. Thou unadvised scold, I can produce
    A will that bars the title of thy son.
  CONSTANCE. Ay, who doubts that? A will, a wicked will;
    A woman's will; a cank'red grandam's will!
  KING PHILIP. Peace, lady! pause, or be more temperate.
    It ill beseems this presence to cry aim
    To these ill-tuned repetitions.
    Some trumpet summon hither to the walls
    These men of Angiers; let us hear them speak
    Whose title they admit, Arthur's or John's.