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might not fall in love with him; in which doing, I have done the part of a careful friend, and a true subject, and thy father is to give me thanks for it. No abuse, Hal, none, Ned, none ; no, boys, none.

P. Henry. See now, whether pure fear and entire cowardise doth not make thee wrong this virtuous gentlewoman, to close with us? Is she of the wicked ? is thine Hostess here of the wicked ? or is the boy of the wicked? or honeft Bardolph, whose zeal burns in his nose, of the wicked ?

Poins. Answer, thou dead Elm, answer.

Fal. The fiend hath priekt down Bardolph irrecoverable, and his face is Lucifer's privy-kitchen, where he doth nothing but roaft mault-worms : for the boy, there is a good angel about him, but the devil out-bids him too.

P. Henry. For the women,

Fal. For one of them, she is in hell already, and burns poor

fouls : for the other, I owe her mony; and whether she be damn'd for that, I know not.

Hoft. No, I warrant you.

Fal. No, I think, thou art not: I think thou art quit for that. Marry, there is another indictment upon thee, for suffering flesh to be eaten in thy house, contrary to the law, for the which, I think, thou wilt howl.

Hot. All victuallers do so : what is a joint of mutton or two in a whole Lent?

P. Henry. You, gentlewoman,
Dol. What says your Grace?
Fal. His Grace lays That, which his flesh rebels against.

Hoft. Who knocks so loud at door: look to the door there, Francis

Enter Peto.
P. Henry. Peto, how now ? what news ?

Peto. The King your father is at Westminster,
And there are twenty weak and wearied Posts
Come from the North ; and, as I came along,
I met and overtook a dozen captains,

Bare:

Bare-headed, sweating, knocking at the taverns,
And asking every one for Sir John Falsaf.
P. Henry. By "heaven, Poins, I feel me much to

blame,
So idly to profane the precious time ;
When tempeft of commotion, like the South
Borne with black vapoúr, doth begin to melt
And drop upon our bare unarmed heads.
Give me my sword, and cloak : Falstaff, good night.

[Exeunt Prince and Poins. Fal. Now comes in the sweetest morsel of the night, and we must hence, and leave it unpick’t. More knocking at the door ? how how ? what's

the matter ? Bard. You must away to Court, Sir, presently : a dozen captains stay at door for you.

Fal. Pay the musicians, Sirrah : farewel, Hostess ; farewel, Dol. You see, my good wenches, how men of merit are fought after ; the undeferver may sleep, when the man of action is call'd on.

Farewel, good wenches ; if I be not sent away poft, I will see you again, ere I go.

Dol. I cannot speak ; if my heart be not ready to burst well, sweet Jack, have a care of thy self. Fal. Farewel, farewel.

[Exit. Hoft. Well, fare thee well : I have known thee theft' twenty nine years, come pescod-time; but an honester and truer-hearted man well, fare thee well.

Bard. Mrs. Tear-heet,
Hoft. What's the matter ?
Bardi Bid Mistress Tear-sheet come to my master.
Hoft. O run, Dol, run ; run, good Dol. [Exeunt's

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SCENE, the Palace in LONDON. Enter King Henry in his Night-gown, with

Page.

G

K. H EN RY:
O, call the Earls of Surrey and of Warwick ;
But, ere they come, bid them o'er-read these

letters.
And well consider of them : make good speed.

[Exit Page. How many thousands of my pooreft Subjects Are at this hour asleep! O gentle Sleep, Nature's soft Nurse, how have I frighted thee, That thou no more wilt weigh my eye-lids down, And steep my fenfes in forgetfulness ? Why rather, Sleep, ly'it thou in smoaky cribs, Upon uneasie pallets stretching thee, And husht with buzzing night-flies to thy flumber Than in the perfum'd chambers of the Great, Under the Canopies of costly State, And lulld with sounds of sweetest melody? O thou dull God, why ly'st thou with the vile In loathfem beds, and leav'st the kingly couch A watch-case, or a common larum-bell? Wilt thou, upon the high and giddy mast, Seal up the ship-boy's eyes, and rock his brains, In cradle of the rude imperious Surge ; And in the visitation of the winds, Who take the ruffian billows by the top, Curling their monstrous heads, and hanging them With deaf'ning clamours in the flip'ry throuds, That, with the hurley, death it self awakes ? Can't thou, O partial Sleep, give thy repose

Το you?

To the wet sea-boy in an hour fo rude ?
And, in the calmeft and the stillest night,
With all appliances and means to boot,
Deny it to a King ? then, happy low ! lye down ;
Uneasie lyes the head, that wears a Crown.

Enter Warwick and Surrey.
War. Many good morrows to your Majesty!
K. Henry. Is it good morrow, lords ?
War. 'Tis one o'clock, and past.
K. Henry. (12) Why, then, good morrow to you.

Well, my lords,
Have you read o'er the letters I sent

War. We have, my Liege.
K. Henry. Then you perceive the body of our King

dom,
How foul it is ; what rank diseases grow,
And with what danger, near the heart of it.

War. It is but as a body, yet diftemper'd,
Which to its former strength may be reitor'd,
With good advice and little medicine ;
My lord Northumberland will soon be coold.
K. Henry. Oh heav'n, that one might read the book

of fate,
And see the revolution of the times
Make Mountains level, and the Continent,
Weary of solid firmness, melt it felf
Into the Sea ; and, other times, to see
The beachy girdle of the Ocean
Too wide for Neptune's hips : how Chances mock,

(12) Why then good morrow to you all, my Lords:

Have you read o'er, &c. I niuft account for the Change I have ventur'd ac here. In the preceding Page the King sends Letters to Surrey and Warwick, with Charge that they should read them and attend him. Accordingly here survey and Warwick.come, and no body else, in Obedience to that sum. mons. The King would hardly have said Good morrow to You All, to two Peers, and no more. My Emendation wants no: further Support, than This naked Staiog of the Cafe.

And

soul;

And Changes fill the cup of alteration
With divers liquors ! O, if this were seen,
The happiest youth viewing his progress through,
What perils past, what crosses to ensue,
Wou'd shut the book, and fit him down and die.
'Tis not ten Years gone,
Since Richard and Northumberland, great Friends,
Did feast together; and in two years after
Were they at wars. It is but eight years since,
This Percy was the man nearest my
Who, like a brother, toil'd in my affairs,
And laid his love and life under

my

foot ; Yea, for my fake, ev'n to the eyes of Richard Gave him defiance. But which of you was by ? (You, cousin Nevil, as I may remember) [To War. When Richard, with his eye brim-full of tears, Then check'd and rated by Northumberland, Did speak these words, now prov'd a prophecy. Northumberland, thou ladder by the which • My cousin Boling broke ascends my Throne : (Though then, Heav'n knows, I had no such intent; But that Necessity fo bow'd the State, That I and Greatness were compellid to kiss :) " The time shall come, (thus did he follow it,) • The time will come, that foul fin, gathering head, • Shall break into corruption : fo went on, Foretelling this same time's condition, And the division of our amity.

War. There is a history in all men's lives,
Figuring the Nature of the times deceas'd ;
The which observ'd, a man may prophesie,
With a near aim, of the main chance of things
As yet not come to life, which in their feeds
And weak beginnings lie intreasured.
Such things become the hatch and brood of time ;
And by the necessary form of this,
King Richard might create a perfect guess,
That great Northumberland, then false to him,
Would of that seed grow to a greater falseness,
Which should not find a ground to root upon,
Unless on You.

K. Henry

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