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I fhall befeech you,- that is queftion now;
And talking of the Alps and Apennines,
It draws towards fupper in conclufion, fo
And fits the mounting fpirit like myself:
Enter Lady Faulconbridge, and James Gurney.
Lady. Sir Robert's fon? ay, thou unrev'rend boy,. Sir Robert's fon: why fcorn'ft thou at Sir Robert ? He is Sir Robert's fon;. and fo art thou.
Phil. James Gurney, wilt thou give us leave a while Gur. Good leave, good Philip.
Phil. Philip!-fpare me, James; (4) There's toys abroad; "anon I'll tell thee more.
Madam, I was not old Sir Robert's fon..
Sir Robert never holpe to make this leg.
Lady. Haft thou confpir'd with thy brother too, That, for thine own gain, fhould'st defend mine honour ? What means this fcorn, thou most untoward knave? Phil. Knight, Knight, good mother
(4)- Philip; fparrow, James.] Thus the old Copies;: and Mr. Pope has attempted to glofs this Reading by telling us, that Philip is the common Name for a tame Sparrow. So that then Faulconbridge would fay, Call me Philip? You may as well call me Sparrow. The Allufion is very mean and trifling :: and every Body, I believe, will chufe to embrace Mr. Warburton's Emendation, which I have inferted into the Text. Spare me, and Forbear me, it may be obferved, are our Author's accustom'd Phrafes; either when any one wants another to leave him, or would be rid of a displeasing Subject.
(5) Knight, Knight,- -good Mother, Bafilisco like.]Thus must this Paffage be pointed; and, to come at the Humour of it, I must clear up an old Circumftance of Stage Hiftory. Faulconbridge's Words here carry a conceal'd Piece of Satire on a ftupid Drama of that Age, printed in 1599, and call'd Soliman and Perseda. In this piece there is the Character of a bragging : Cowardly Knight, call'd Bafilifco. His Pretenfion to Valour is fo blown and feen thro', that Pifton, a Buffoon-fervant in the Play, jumps upon his Back, and will not difengage him, 'till ke makes Bafilifco fwear upon his dudgeon Dagger to the Contents, and in the Terms, he dictates to him; as, for Instance.. Baf. O, I fwear, I fwear.
Pist. By the Contents of this Blade.
What! I am dub'd; I have it on my
Then, good my mother, let me know my father;
Lady. King Richard Coeur de lion was thy father;
Which was fo ftrongly urg'd past my defence.
my father. Who lives and dares but fay, thou didst not well When I was got, I'll fend his foul to hell.
Pift. I, the aforefaid Bafilifco.
Baf. I, the aforefaid Bafilifco,
Knight, good fellow, knight, knight,
So that 'tis clear, our Poet is fneering at this Play; and makes Philip, when his Mother calls him Knave, to throw off that Reproach by humouroufly laying claim to his new Dignity of Knightbood; as Bafilifco arrogantly infifts on his Title of Knight in the Paffage above quoted. The old Play is an execrable bad one; and, I fuppofe, was fufficiently exploded in the Reprefentation: which might make this Circumftance fo well known, as to become the Butt for a Stage-Sarcafm.
Come, lady, I will fhew thee to my kin,
If thou hadst faid him nay, it had been fin
Who fays it was, he lyes; I fay, 'twas not. [Exeunt.
SCENE, before the Walls of Angiers
Enter Philip King of France, Lewis the Dauphin, the Archduke of Auftria, Conftance, and Arthur..
EFORE Angiers well met, brave Auftria..
By this brave Duke came early to his grave:
At our importance hither is he come,
Of thy unnatural uncle, English John.
Embrace him, love him, give him welcome hither..
Together with that pale, that white-fac'd fhore,
Ev'n 'till that outmoft corner of the weft,
Conft. O, take his mother's thanks, a widow's thanks, "Till your strong hand fhall help to give him ftrength, To make a more requital to your love.
Auft. The peace of heav'n is theirs, who lift their fwords
In fuch a juft and charitable war.
K. Philip. Well then, to work; our engines fhall be bent
Against the brows of this refiffing town ;;
Conft. Stay for an answer to your Embáffie,
K. Philip. A wonder, lady! lo, upon thy wish Our meffenger Chatilion is arrived?
What England fays, fay briefly, gentle lord,
We coldly paufe for thee. Chatilion, fpeak.
Chat. Then turn your forces from this paultry fiege, And ftir them up against a mightier task.
England, impatient of your juft demands,