My due, from thee, is this imperial crown,
Which, as immediate from thy place and blood,
Derives itself to me. Lo, here it sits,—

[putting it on his head.

Which Heaven shall guard: and put the world's whole strength

Into one giant arm, it shall not force

This lineal honor from me. This from thee

Will I to mine leave, as 'tis left to me.

K. Hen. Warwick! Gloster! Clarence!

Cla.

Re-enter WARWICK, and the rest.

[Exit.

Doth the king call? War. What would your majesty? How fares

your grace?

K. Hen. Why did you leave me here alone, my lords?

Cla. We left the prince my brother here, my

liege,

Who undertook to sit and watch by you.

K. Hen. The prince of Wales? Where is he? let me see him:

He is not here.

War. This door is open; he is gone this way. P. Hum. He came not through the chamber where we stay'd.

K. Hen. Where is the crown? who took it from my pillow?

War. When we withdrew, my liege, we left it

here.

K. Hen. The prince hath ta'en it hence:-go,

seek him out.

Is he so hasty, that he doth suppose

My sleep my death ?

Find him, my lord of Warwick; chide him hither.

[Exit Warwick.

This part of his conjoins with my disease,

And helps to end me. See, sons, what things you

are!

How quickly nature falls into revolt,

When gold becomes her object!

For this the foolish over-careful fathers

Have broke their sleep with thoughts, their brains with care,

Their bones with industry;

For this they have engrossed and piled up
The canker'd heaps of strange-achieved gold;
For this they have been thoughtful to invest
Their sons with arts and martial exercises:
When, like the bee, tolling1 from every flower
The virtuous sweets;

Our thighs pack'd with wax, our mouths with

honey,

We bring it to the hive; and, like the bees,

Are murder'd for our pains. This bitter taste
Yield his engrossments 2 to the ending father.

'Taking toll.

2 Accumulations.