Queen. Who is it thou dost call vsurper France?
Const. Let me make answer: thy vsurping sonne
Queen. Out insolent, thy bastard shall be King,
That thou maist be a Queen, and checke the world
Con. My bed was euer to thy sonne as true
As thine was to thy husband, and this boy
Liker in feature to his father Geffrey
Then thou and Iohn, in manners being as like,
As raine to water, or deuill to his damme;
My boy a bastard? by my soule I thinke
His father neuer was so true begot,
It cannot be, and if thou wert his mother
Queen. Theres a good mother boy, that blots thy father
Const. There's a good grandame boy
That would blot thee
Aust. Peace
Bast. Heare the Cryer
Aust. What the deuill art thou?
Bast. One that wil play the deuill sir with you,
And a may catch your hide and you alone:
You are the Hare of whom the Prouerb goes
Whose valour plucks dead Lyons by the beard;
Ile smoake your skin-coat and I catch you right,
Sirra looke too't, yfaith I will, yfaith
Blan. O well did he become that Lyons robe,
That did disrobe the Lion of that robe
Bast. It lies as sightly on the backe of him
As great Alcides shooes vpon an Asse:
But Asse, Ile take that burthen from your backe,
Or lay on that shall make your shoulders cracke
Aust. What cracker is this same that deafes our eares
With this abundance of superfluous breath?
King Lewis, determine what we shall doe strait