als Autor namhaft. Auch später hat es nicht an einzelnen englischen wie deutschen Kritikern gefehlt, welche den älteren King John für eine Jugendarbeit unseres Dichters gelten lassen wollten, oder ihm doch eine Betheiligung daran im Verein mit andern Dichtern zuzuschreiben geneigt waren. Sowohl um das Unhaltbare dieser Meinung nachzuweisen, als auch um an einer Probe zu zeigen, wie Shakspere das Werk seines anonymen Vorgängers benutzt hat, mögen ein Paar Scenen aus dem alten King John, der nach der Bezugnahme auf Marlowe's Tamburlaine im Prolog um das Jahr 1590 gespielt sein muss, hier ihren Platz finden. Das erste, hier citirte Stück entspricht der zweiten Hälfte des ersten Akts bei Shakspere. self, and the bad dealing of my brother in this

Enter the Shriue and whispers the Earle

of Salisbury in the eare.

princely assemblie.

Robert. Then, by my Prince his leaue, shall Robert speake,

Sals. Please it your Maiesty, here is the
Shrive of Northamptonshire with certaine per- And tell your Maiestie what right I haue
sons that of late committed a riot, and haue To offer wrong, as he accounteth wrong.
appeald to your Maiestie, beseeching your My father (not vnknowne vnto your Grace)
Highnesse for speciall cause to heare them. Receiu'd his spurres of Knighthood in the Field,
At kingly Richard hands in Palestine,
Whenas the walls of Acon gaue him way:
His name sir Robert Fauconbridge of Mount-

K. John.

Will them come neere, and while
wee heare the cause,

Goe Salisbury and make prouision,

We meane with speed to passe the Sea to

Fraunce.

bery.

What by succession from his Ancestors,

Say Shriue, what are these men, what haue And warlike seruice vnder Englands Armes,

they done?

His liuing did amount to at his death
Two thousand markes reuenew euery yeare:
And this (my Lord) I challenge for my right,
As lawfull heire to Robert Fauconbridge.

Or whereto tends the course of this appeale? Shriue. Please it your Maiestie, these two brethren unnaturally falling at odds about their fathers living, haue broken your highnesse Phil. If first-borne sonne be heire indubitate peace, in seeking to right their owne wrongs By certaine right of Englands auntient Lawe, without course of Lawe, or order of Justice; How should my selfe make any other doubt, and unlawfully assembled themselves in muti-But I am heire to Robert Fauconbridge? nous maner, having committed a riot, appea- K. John. Fond youth, to trouble these our ling from triall in their country to your Highprincely eares, ness: and here I Thomas Nidigate Shriue of Northamptonshire do deliver them ouer to their triall.

Or make a question in so plaine a case :
Speake, is this man thine elder brother borne?
Please it your Grace with patience
for to heare?

Robert.

K. John. My Lord of Essex, will thoffenders to stand forth, and tell the cause of I not deny but he mine elder is, their quarrell.

Essex. Gentlemen, it is the Kings pleasure that you discouer your griefs, and doubt not but you shal haue iustice.

Phil. Please it your Maiesty the wrong is

Mine elder brother too: yet in such sort,
As he can make no title to the land.

K. John. A doubtfull tale as euer I did heare,
Thy brother, and thine elder, and no heire:
Explaine this darke Ænigma.

Robert. I grant (my Lord) he is my mothers sonne,

dlander of my parents, the dishonor of my | Base borne, and base begot, no Fauconbridge.

Indeede the world reputes him lawful heire,
My father in his life did count him so,
And here my mother stands to proue him so:
But I (my Lord) can proue, and doe auerre
Both to my mothers shame, and his reproach,
He is no heire, nor yet legitimate.

Then (gratious Lord) let Fauconbridge enjoy
The living that belongs to Fauconbridge.
And let not him possesse anothers right.

|First, when my Father was Embassador
In Germanie vnto the Emperour,
The King lay often at my fathers house;
And all the realme suspected what befell:
And at my fathers back-returne agen
My mother was deliuered, as tis sed,
Sixe weeks before the account my father made.
But more than this: looke but on Philips face,
His features, actions, and his lineaments,

K. John. Proue this, the land is thine by And all this princely presence shall confesse,
He is no other but King Richards sonne.

Englands lawe.

Qu. Elian. Vngratious youth, to rip thy | Then gratious Lord, rest he King Richards

mothers shame,

The wombe from whence thou didst thy being take,
All honest eares abhorre thy wickednesse,
But Gold I see doth beate downe Natures lawe.
Mother. My gratious Lord, and
you thrice

reuerend Dame,

sonne,

And let me rest safe in my Fathers right,
That am his rightfull sonne and only heire.
K. John. Is this thy proofe, and all thou
hast to say?

Robert. I have no more, nor neede I
greater proofe.

K. John. First, where thou saidst in absence of thy Sire

That see the teares distilling from mine eies,
And scalding sighes blowne from a rented heart:
For honour and regard of womanhood,
Let me intreate to be commaunded hence.
Let not these eares heere receiue the hissing sound
Of such a viper, who with poysoned words
Doth masserate the bowels of my soule.
K. John. Lady, stand up, be patient for This will not hold, proceede vnto the next.

awhile:

And fellow, say, whose bastard is thy brother?

My brother often lodged in his house:
And what of that? base groome to slaunder him,
That honoured his Embassador so much,
In absence of the man to cheere the wife?

Philip. Not for my selfe, nor for my mo- Why good sir Squire, are you so cunning

growen,

To make account of womens reckonings?
Spit in your hand and to your other proofes:
Many mischances happen in such affaires,
To make a woman come before her time.
K. John. And where thou saist, he looketh
like the King,

In action, feature and proportion :
Therein I hold with thee, for in my life
I neuer saw so liuely counterfet
Of Richard Cordelion, as in him.
Robert.

Then good my Lord, be you in-
diffrent Judge,

And let me have my liuing and my right.
Qu. Elian.
Nay, heare you sir, you
runne away too fast:
Know you not, Omne simile non est idem?
Or haue read in. Hark yee, good sir,
Twas thus I warrant, and no otherwise,
Shee lay with sir Robert your father, and

But thou shalt see how I will helpe thy claime: What saist thou Philip, sprung of ancient This is my doome, and this my doome shall

stand

Irreuocable, as I am King of England.

Kings?

Quo me rapit tempestas?

What winde of honour blowes this furie forth?

For thou know'st not, weele aske of them that Or whence proceede these fumes of Maiestie?

know,

His mother and himselfe shall end this strife:
And as they say, so shall thy liuing passe.
Robert. My Lord, herein I challenge you
of wrong,

To give away my right, and put the doome
Vnto themselues. Can there be likelihood
That shee will loose?

Or he will give the liuing from himselfe?

Methinkes I hear a hollow Ecchoe sound;
That Philip is the sonne vnto a King:
The wistling leaues vpon the trembling trees,
Whistle in consort I am Richards sonne:
The bubling murmur of the waters fall
Records Philippus Regius filius:
Birds in their flight make musicke with their
wings,

Filling the aire with glorie of my birth:
leaues, and mountaines,

choe, all

Ec

It may not be, my Lord. Why should it be? Birds, bubbles, K. John. Lords, keep him back, and let him heare the doom. Essex, first ask the mo- Ring in mine eares, that I am Richards

ther thrice, who was his Sire?

sonne.

Essex. Lady Margaret, widow of Faucon-Fond man! ah whither art thou carried?

bridge,

Who was Father to thy Sonne Philip?

How are thy thoughts ywrapt in Honors heauen?
Forgetfull what thou art, and whence thou camst.

Mother. Please it your Maiesty, Sir Ro- Thy Fathers land cannot maintain these thoughts, These thoughts are farre vnfitting Fauconbridge:

bert Fauconbridge.

Robert. This is right, aske my fellow there if I be a thiefe.

K. John. Aske Philip whose sonne he is. Essex. Philip, who was thy father? Philip. Mas my Lord, and that's a question: and you had not taken some paines with her before, I should have desired you to aske my mother.

And well they may; for why this mounting minde
Doth soare too high to stoupe to Faucon-
bridge.

Why how now? knowest thou where thou art?
And knowest thou who expects thine answer here?
Wilt thou vpon a frantick madding vaine
Goe loose thy land, and say thy selfe base
borne ?

K. John. Say, who was thy Father? Philip. Faith (my Lord) to answere you, No, keep thy land, though Richard were thy Sire, sure hee is my father that was neerest my What ere thou thinkst, say thou art Fauconmother when I was begotten, and him I think bridge. to be Sir Robert Fauconbridge.

K. John. Essex, for fashions sake demand agen,

And so an end to this contention.

K. John. Speake man, be sodaine, who thy Father was.

Philip. Please it your Maiestie, Sir Robert. Philip, that Fauconbridge cleaues to thy iawes:

was

It will not out; I cannot for my life
Say I am sonne vnto a Fauconbridge.
Let land and liuing goe, this Honors fire
That makes me sweare King Richard
my Sire.
Base to a King addes title of more State,
Than Knights begotten, though legitimate.
Please it your Grace, I am King Richards
Sonne.

Robert. Robert reuiue thy heart, let
sorrow die,

His faltring tongue not suffers him to lie. Mother. What head-strong furie doth enchant my sonne?

Philip. Philip cannot repent, for

K. John.

hath done.

To checke the pride of Arthur and his mates :
Essex, thou shalt be Ruler of my Realme,
And toward the maine charges of my warres,
Ile ceaze the lasie Abbey lubbers lands
Into my hands to pay my men of warre.
The Pope and Popelings shall not grease themselues
With gold and groates, that are the souldiers due.
Thus forward Lords, let our commannd be done,
And march we forward mightily to Fraunce.
[Exeunt.

Manent Philip and his Mother. Philip. Madame, I beseech you deigne me so much leasure as the hearing of a matter he that I long to impart to you.

Mother. What's the matter Philip? I

Then Philip blame not me, thy think your suit in secret tends to some money matter, which you suppose burns in the bottom of my chest.

selfe hast lost

By wilfulnesse, thy living and thy land.
Robert, thou art the heire of Fauconbridge,
God give thee ioy, greater than thy desert.
Qu. Elian.
Why how now Philip, giue
away thine own?
Philip. Madame, I am bold to make my-
selfe your nephew,
The poorest kinsman that your Highnesse hath:
And with this Prouerb gin the world anew,
Help hands, I haue no lands, Honor is my

desire;

Philip. No Madame, it is no such suit as
to beg or borrow,
But such a suit, as might some other grant,
I would not now have troubled you withall.
Mother. A Gods name let vs heare it.
Philip. Then Madame thus, your Ladi-
ship sees well,

How that my scandal growes by meanes of you,
In that report hath rumord vp and downe,
I am a bastard, and no Fauconbridge.

Let Philip liue to shew himselfe worthy so This grosse attaint so tilteth in my thoughts,
Maintaining combat to abridge mine ease,
That field and towne, and company alone,
What so I do, or wheresoere I am,

Qu. Elian.

great a Sire. Philip I think thou knewst thy Grandams minde: But cheere thee Boy, I will not see thee want As long as Elianor hath foote of land: Henceforth thou shalt be taken for my sonne, And waite on me and on thine vncle heere, Who shall give honour to thy noble mind. K. John. Philip kneele down, that thou maist throughly know

How much thy resolution pleaseth vs,

I cannot chase the slaunder from my thoughts.
If it be true, resolue me of my sire,
For pardon, Madame, if I think amisse.
Be Philip Philip, and no Fauconbridge:
His father doubtlesse was as braue a man.
To you on knees, as sometime Phaeton,
Mistrusting sielly Merop for his sire,
Straining a little bashfull modestie,

Rise up Sir Richard Plantaginet King I beg some instance whence I am extraught.

K. John. Now, Gentlemen, we will away Thou moust me Philip with this idle talke,

to Fraunce,

Which I remit, in hope this mood will die.

Philip. Nay, Lady mother, heare me further yet,

For strong conceit drives duty hence awhile:
Your husband, Fauconbridge, was father to
that sonne,

That carries markes of nature like the sire,
The sonne that blotteth you with wedlockes breach,
And holds my right as lineal in descent
From him whose forme was figured in his face.
Can Nature so dissemble in her frame,
To make the one so like as like may be,
And in the other print no character
To challenge any marke of true descent?
My brothers mind is base, and too too dull,
To mount where Philip lodgeth his affects
And his externall graces that you viewe,
(Though I report it) counterpoise not mine:
His constitution plaine debilitie,

Requires the chaire, and mine the seat of steele.
Nay, what is he, or what am I to him?
When any one that knoweth how to carpe,
Will scarcely iudge us both one countrey borne.
This, Madame, this, hath droue me from my
selfe:

Phil. Come Madame come, you need not
be so loath,

The shame is shared equall twixt vs both.
Ist not a slackenesse in me, worthy blame,
To be so old, and cannot write my name?
Good mother resolue me.

Moth. Then Philip heare thy fortune,
and my griefe,

My honours losse by purchase of thy selfe,
My shame, thy name, and husbands secret
wrong,

All maimd and staind by youths vnruly sway.
And when thou know'st from whence thou art
extraught,

Or if thou knew'st what suites, what threats,
what feares,

To moue by loue, or massacre by death,
To yeeld with loue, or end by loues contempt
The mightinesse of him that courted me,
Who tempered terror with his wanton talke,
That something may extenuate the guilt.
But let it not aduantage me so much:
Vpbraid me rather with the Romane dame
That shed her blood to wash away her shame.

And here by heauens eternal lampes I sweare, Why stand I to expostulate the crime

As cursed Nero with his mother did,

So I with you, if you resolue me not.

With pro et contra, now the deed is done?
When to conclude two words may tell the tale,

Moth. Let mothers teares quench out thy That Philips father was a princes sonne:

angers fire,

And vrge no further what thou doest require.
Phil. Let sonnes intreatie sway the mother

now,

Or else she dies: Ile not infringe my vow.
Moth. Vnhappy taske: must I recount my

shame,

Blab my misdeeds, or by concealing die?
Some power strike me speechless for a time,
Or take from him awhile his hearings use.
Why wish I 80, vnhappy as I am?
The fault is mine, and he the faultie fruit,
I blush, I faint, oh would I might be mute.
Phil. Mother be briefe, I long to know
my name.

Rich Englands rule, worlds onely terror he,
For honors losse left me with child of thee:
Whose sonne thou art, then pardon me the
rather,

For fair King Richard was thy noble father.
Philip. Then Robin Fauconbridge I wish
thee joy,

My sire a King, and I a landlesse boy.
Gods lady mother, the world is in my debt,
There's something owing to Plantaginet.

I marry sir, let me alone for game,
Ile act some wonders now I know my name.
By blessed Mary Ile not sell that pride
For Englands wealth, and all the world beside.
Sit fast the proudest of my fathers foes,

Moth. And longing die, to shroud thy Away good mother, there the comfort goes.

mothers shame.

[Exeunt.

Die bei Shakspere den vierten Akt beginnende Scene zwischen Arthur

und Hubert lautet im alten King John so: