Bast. Our Country manners giue our betters way K.Iohn. What is thy name? Bast. Philip my Liege, so is my name begun, Philip, good old Sir Roberts wiues eldest sonne K.Iohn. From henceforth beare his name Whose forme thou bearest: Kneele thou downe Philip, but rise more great, Arise Sir Richard, and Plantagenet Bast. Brother by th' mothers side, giue me your hand, My father gaue me honor, yours gaue land: Now blessed be the houre by night or day When I was got, Sir Robert was away Ele. The very spirit of Plantaginet: I am thy grandame Richard, call me so Bast. Madam by chance, but not by truth, what tho; Something about a little from the right, In at the window, or else ore the hatch: Who dares not stirre by day, must walke by night, And haue is haue, how euer men doe catch: Neere or farre off, well wonne is still well shot, And I am I, how ere I was begot K.Iohn. Goe, Faulconbridge, now hast thou thy desire, A landlesse Knight, makes thee a landed Squire: Come Madam, and come Richard, we must speed For France, for France, for it is more then need Bast. Brother adieu, good fortune come to thee, For thou wast got i'th way of honesty. Exeunt. all but bastard. Bast. A foot of Honor better then I was, But many a many foot of Land the worse. Well, now can I make any Ioane a Lady, Good den Sir Richard, Godamercy fellow, And if his name be George, Ile call him Peter; For new made honor doth forget mens names: 'Tis two respectiue, and too sociable For your conuersion, now your traueller, Hee and his tooth-picke at my worships messe, And when my knightly stomacke is suffis'd, Why then I sucke my teeth, and catechize My picked man of Countries: my deare sir, Thus leaning on mine elbow I begin, I shall beseech you; that is question now, And then comes answer like an Absey booke: O sir, sayes answer, at your best command, At your employment, at your seruice sir: No sir, saies question, I sweet sir at yours, And so ere answer knowes what question would, Sauing in Dialogue of Complement, And talking of the Alpes and Appenines, The Perennean and the riuer Poe, It drawes toward supper in conclusion so. But this is worshipfull society, And fits the mounting spirit like my selfe; For he is but a bastard to the time That doth not smoake of obseruation, And so am I whether I smacke or no: And not alone in habit and deuice, Exterior forme, outward accoutrement; But from the inward motion to deliuer Sweet, sweet, sweet poyson for the ages tooth, Which though I will not practice to deceiue, Yet to auoid deceit I meane to learne; 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 paines to blow a horne before her? O me, 'tis my mother: how now good Lady, What brings you heere to Court so hastily? Enter Lady Faulconbridge and Iames Gurney.