« AnkstesnisTęsti »
To the last syllable of recorded time;
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,
Macb. Well, say, Sir.
Mess. As I did stand my watch upon the
I look'd toward Birnam, and anon, methought,
Macb. Liar and slave! [Striking him.
Within this three mile may you see it coming;
Macb. If thou speak'st false,
Upon the next tree shalt thou hang alive,
I pull in resolution; and begin
To doubt the equivocation of the fiend,
Do come to Dunsinane ;-and now a wood
Shall, with my cousin, your right-noble son,
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,
That was not born of woman? Such a one
I'll prove the lie thou speak'st.
[They fight, and young SIWARD is slain. Macb. Thou wast born of woman.——
If this, which he avouches, does appear,
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.
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.
But, bear-like, I must fight the course.-What's he,
Macb. They have tied me to a stake: I can. not fly:
I cannot strike at wretched kernes, whose arms
Or else my sword, with an unbatter'd edge,
By this great clatter, one of greatest note
Siw. This way, my lord ;-The castle's gently
The tyrant's people on both sides do fight;
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,
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.
SCENE I.-Northampton.-A Room of State
K. John. Now, say, Chatillon, what would
SCENE, sometimes in England, and sometimes in France.
PETER of Pomfret, a Prophet.
in the manner I now do.
ELINOR, the Widow of King Henry II. and
Lords, Ladies, Citizens of Angiers, Sherif, Heralds, Officers, Soldiers, Messengers, and other Attendants.
K. John. Silence, good mother; hear the embassy.
Chat. Philip of France, in right and true be-
K. John. What follows, if we disallow of this?
Chat. Thus, after greeting, speaks the king of
In my behaviour, to the majesty,
Chat. Then take my king's defiance from my | (Fair fall the bones that took the pains for me !)
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 ;~
Be thou as lightning in the eyes of France;
[Exeunt CHATILLON and PEMBROKE.
How that ambitious Constance would not cease,
With very easy arguments of love;
Eli. Your strong possession, much more than
Or else it must go wrong with you and me:
Enter the Sheriff of Northamptonshire, who whispers ESSEX.
Esser. My liege, here is the strangest con-
Come from the country to be judg'd by yon,
Bast. Your faithful subject I, a gentleman,
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.
But, for the certain knowledge of that truth,
And wound her honour with this diffidence.
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
•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
In sooth he might: then, if he were my bro-
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?
Than was his will to get me, as I think.
And like thy brother, to enjoy thy land;
And I bad his, Sir Robert his, like him;
That in my ear I durst not stick a rose,
And, to his shape, were heir to all this land,
Eli. I like thee well; Wilt thou forsake thy What woman-post is this? hath she no hus
Bequeath thy land to him, and follow me?
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 band;
My father gave me honour, your's gave land:
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
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,—
It draws toward supper in conclusion so.
And fits the mounting spirit, like myself:
Exterior form, outward accoutrement;
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
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.
To whom am 1 beholden for these limbs?
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.
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
Bast. Now, by this light, were I to get again,
Need must you lay your heart at his dispose,—
He that perforce robs lions of their hearts,
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.