tain, the heart; who, great, and puft up with this retinue, doth any deed of courage; and this valour comes of Sherris. So that skill in the weapon is nothing without Sack, for that fets it a-work; and learning a meer hoard of gold kept by the devil, 'till fack commences it, and fets it in act and ufe. Hereof comes it, that Prince Harry is valiant; for the cold blood he did naturally inherit of his father, he hath, like lean, fteril and bare land, manured, husbanded, and till'd, with excellent endeavour of drinking good and good store of fertile Sherris, that he is become very hot and valiant. If I had a thousand sons, the first humane princi ple I would teach them should be to forfwear thin potations, and to addict themfelves to fack.

How now, Bardolph?

Enter Bardolph.

Bard. The army is difcharged all, and gone.

Fal. Let them go; I'll through Glo'ftershire, and there will I vifit mafter Robert Shallow, Efquire: I have him already tempering between my finger and my thumb, and fhortly will I feal with him. Come away. [Exeunt. SCENE VIII. The Palace at Weftminster. Enter King Henry, Warwick, Clarence, and Gloucester. K. Henry. Now, Lords, if heav'n doth give fuccefsful end To this debate that bleedeth at our doors,

We will our youth lead on to higher fields,
And draw no fwords but what are fanctify'd.
Our navy is addrefs'd, our power collected,
Our fubftitutes in abfence well invested,
And every thing lyes level to our wish:
Only we want a little perfonal ftrength,
And paufe us, 'till thefe rebels, now a-foot,
Come underneath the yoak of government.

War. Both which we doubt not but your Majefty

Shall foon enjoy.

K. Henry, Humphry, my fon of Gloucester,

Where is the Prince your brother?

Glou. I think he's gone to hunt, my Lord, at Windsor. K. Henry. And how accompanied?

Glou. I do not know, my Lord,

N 2

K. Henry.

K. Henry. Is not his brother, Thomas of Clarence, with

him?

Glou, No, my good Lord, he is in prefence here.

Cla. What would my Lord and father?

K. Henry. Nothing but well to thee, Thomas of Clarence.
How chance thou art not with the Prince thy brother?
He loves thee, and thou doft neglect him, Thomas
Thou haft a better place in his affection
Than all thy brothers: cherish it, my boy,
And noble offices thou may'ft effect
Of mediation, after I am dead,

Between his greatnefs and thy other brethren.
Therefore omit him not; blunt not his love,
Nor lofe the good advantage of his grace,
By feeming cold, or carelefs of his will.
For he is gracious if he be obferv'd:
He hath a tear for pity, and a hand
Open as day, for melting charity:

Yet notwithstanding, being incens'd, he's flint,
As humourous as winter, and as fudden
As flaws congealed in the spring of day.*
His temper therefore must be well obferv'd:
Chide him for faults, and do it reverently,
When you perceive his blood inclin'd to mirth:
But being moody, give him line and scope,
"Till that his paffions, like a Whale on ground,
Confound themselves with working. Learn this, Thomas,
And thou shalt prove a fhelter to thy friends;
A hoop of gold to bind thy brothers in,

That the united veffel of their blood,

Mingled with venom of fuggeftion,

(As, force perforce, the

age

will pour

it in)

Shall never leak, though it do work as firong
As Aconitum, or rash gun-powder.

Cla. I fhall obferve him with all care and love.

Alluding to the opinion of fome Philofophers that the Vapours being congealed in the Air by Cold (which is most intenfe towards the morning) and being afterwards rarefied and let loose by the warmth of the Sun, occafion thofe fudden impetuous gufts of wind which are call'd Flaws.

K. Henry

K. Henry. Why art thou not at Windfor with him,
Thomas?

Cla. He is not there to-day; he dines in London.

K. Henry. And how accompanied? can't thou tell that?
Cla. With Poins, and other his continual followers.
K. Henry. Moft fubject is the fatteft foil to weeds:
And he, the noble image of my youth,

Is over-fpread with them; therefore my grief
Stretches it felf beyond the hour of death.

The blood weeps from my heart, when I do shape
In forms imaginary th' unguided days
And rotten times that you fhall look upon,
When I am fleeping with my ancestors.
For when his head-ftrong riot hath no curb,
When rage and hot blood are his counsellors,
When means and lavish manners meet together,
Oh, with what wings fhall his affection fly
Tow'rds fronting peril and oppos'd decay!

War. My gracious Lord, you look beyond him quite :
The Prince but ftudies his companions,

Like a strange tongue; wherein, to gain the language,

'Tis needful that the most immodeft word

Be look'd upon, and learn'd; which once attain'd,
Your Highness knows, comes to no farther use,
But to be known and hated. So, like grofs terms,
The Prince will in the perfectness of time
Caft off his followers; and their memory
Shall as a pattern or a measure live,

By which his Grace muft mete the lives of others;
Turning paft evils to advantages.

K. Henry. 'Tis feldom, when the Bee doth leave her comb In the dead carrion.- -Who's here? Weftmorland? SCENE IX. Enter Weftmorland.

Weft. Health to my Sovereign, and new happiness
Added to that, which I am to deliver!

Prince John, your fon, doth kiss your Grace's hand:
Mowbray, the Bishop Scroop, Haftings, and all,
Are brought to the correction of your law;
There is not now a rebel's fword unfheath'd,
But Peace puts forth her Olive ev'ry where.

N 3

The

The manner how this action hath been born,
Here at more leifure may your Highness read,
With every courfe, in his particular.

K. Henry. O Weftmorland, thou art a fummer bird,
Which ever in the haunch of winter fings

The lifting up of day.

Enter Harcourt.

Look, here's more news.

Har. From enemies heav'n keep your Majefty!
And when they stand against you may they fall
As thofe that I am come to tell you of!
The Earl Northumberland, and the Lord Bardolph,
With a great pow'r of English and of Scots,
Are by the Sh'riff of Yorkshire overthrown:
The manner and true order of the fight,
This packet, please it you, contains at large.

K. Henry. And wherefore fhould these good news make
me fick ?

Will fortune never come with both hands full,
But write her fair words ftill in fouleft letters?
She either gives a ftomach, and no food;
(Such are the poor in health) or else a feast,
And takes away the ftomach; fuch the rich,
That have abundance and enjoy it not.
I fhould rejoice now at this happy news,
And now my fight fails, and my brain is giddy.
O me, come near me, now I am much ill.
Glou. Comfort your Majefty!

Cla. Oh, my royal father!

Weft. My fovereign Lord, chear up your felf, look up. War. Be patient, Princes; you do know thefe fits

Are with his Highnefs very ordinary.

Stand from him, give him air: he'll ftrait be well.

Cla. No, no, he cannot long hold out these pangs;
Th' inceffant care and labour of his mind

Hath wrought the mure that should confine it in,
So thin, that life looks through, and will break out.
Glou. The people fear it; for they do obferve

Unfather'd heirs and loathly births of nature:
The feasons change their manners, as the year

Had

Had found fome months afleep, and leap'd them over. Cla. The river hath thrice flow'd, no ebb between; And the old folk (time's doting chronicles)

Say it did fo a little time before

That our great Grandfire Edward fick'd and dy'd.
War. Speak lower, Princes, for the King recovers.
Glou. This apoplex will, certain, be his end.

K. Henry. I pray you, take me up, and bear me hence Into fome other chamber: foftly, 'pray.

Let there be no noife made, my gentle friends,
Unless fome flow and favourable hand
Will whisper mufick to my weary spirit.

War. Call for the mufick in the other room.
K. Henry. Set me the crown upon my pillow here.
Cla. His eye is hollow, and he changes much.
War. Lefs noife, less noise.

SCENE X. Enter Prince Henry.

P. Henry. Who faw the Duke of Clarence?
Cla. I am here, brother, full of heaviness.

P. Henry. How now! rain within doors, and none abroad? How doth the King?

Glou. Exceeding ill.

P. Henry. Heard he the good news yet?
Tell it him.

Glou. He alter'd much upon the hearing it.
P. Henry. If he be fick with joy,

He'll recover without phyfick.

War. Not fo much noife, my Lords; sweet Prince, speak low;

The King, your father, is difpos'd to fleep.
Cla. Let us withdraw into the other room.

War. Will't please your Grace to go along with us?
P. Henry. No; I will fit, and watch here by the King.

[Exeunt all but P. Henry. Why doth the crown lye there upon his pillow, Being fo troublesome a bed-fellow ?

O polish'd perturbation! golden care!
That keep'ft the ports of flumber open wide

To many a watchful night :- he fleeps with't now,
Yet not fo found, and half so deeply sweet,

As