Enter WESTMORLAND.

West. Health to my sovereign; and new hap

piness

Added to that that I am to deliver!

Prince John, your son, doth kiss your grace's hand:
Mowbray, the Bishop Scroop, Hastings, and all,
Are brought to the correction of your law:
There is not now a rebel's sword unsheathed,
But peace puts forth her olive everywhere.
The manner how this action hath been borne,
Here at more leisure may your highness read,
With
every course in his particular.

K. Hen. O Westmorland, thou art a summer bird,

Which ever in the haunch of winter sings
The lifting up of day.-Look: here's more news.

Enter HARCOURT.

Har. From enemies Heaven keep yourmajesty;
And when they stand against you, may they fall
As those that I am come to tell you of!
The Earl Northumberland and the Lord Bardolph,
With a great power of English and of Scots,
Are by the sheriff of Yorkshire overthrown:
The manner and true order of the fight,
This packet, please it you, contains at large.
K. Hen. And wherefore should these good news
make me sick?

Will fortune never come with both hands full,
But write her fair words still in foulest letters?
She either gives a stomach and no food;
Such are the poor in health or else a feast
And takes away the stomach; such are the rich
That have abundance and enjoy it not.
I should rejoice now at this happy news;
And now my sight fails and my brain is giddy.—
Ome! come near me: now I am much ill. [Swoons.
P. Humph. Comfort, your majesty!
Cla. O my royal father!

West. My sovereign lord, cheer up yourself;

look up!

War. Be patient, princes: you do know these fits Are with his highness very ordinary.

Stand from him, give him air; he 'll straight be well.

Cla. No, no; he cannot long hold out these pangs. The incessant 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. P. Humph. The people fear me; for they do

observe

Unfathered heirs and loathly birds of nature. The seasons change their manners; as the year Had found some months asleep, and leaped them

over.

Cla. The river hath thrice flowed, no ebb be

tween:

And the old folk, time's doting chronicles,
Say it did so a little time before

That our great grandsire, Edward, sicked and died.
War. Speak lower, princes, for the King re-

covers.

P. Humph. This apoplexy will certain be his end.

K. Hen. I pray you take me up, and bear me hence

Into some other chamber: softly, pray.

[They convey the KING into an inner part of the room, and place him on a bed. Let there be no noise made, my gentle friends: Unless some dull and favourable hand Will whisper music to my weary spirit.

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

The King your father is disposed to sleep.

Cla. Let us withdraw into the other room. War. Will 't please your grace to go along with us?

P. Hen. No; I will sit and watch here by the King. [Exeunt all but PRINCE HENRY. Why doth the crown lie there upon his pillow, Being so troublesome a bedfellow?

O polished perturbation, golden care,
That keep'st the ports of slumber open wide
To many a watchful night!-sleep with it now:
Yet not so sound and half so deeply sweet
As he whose brow, with homely biggin bound,
Snores out the watch of night. O majesty,
When thou dost pinch thy bearer, thou dost sit
Like a rich armour worn in heat of day,
That scalds with safety. By his gates of breath
There lies a downy feather which stirs not:
Did he suspire, that light and weightless down
Perforce must move.- My gracious lord, my

father!

This sleep is sound indeed: this is a sleep That from this golden rigol hath divorced

So many English kings.-Thy due from me
Is tears and heavy sorrows of the blood;
Which nature, love, and filial tenderness,
Shall, O dear father, pay thee plenteously:
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 honour from me.-This from thee Will I to mine leave, as 't is left to me.

K. Hen. Warwick: Gloster: Clarence!

Re-enter WARWICK and the rest.

Cla. Doth the King call?

[Exit.

We bring it to the hive; and, like the bees,
Are murdered for our pains. This bitter taste
Yield his engrossments to the ending father.—
Re-enter WARWICK.

Now, where is he that will not stay so long
Till his friend sickness hath determined me?
War. My lord, I found the prince in the next
room,

Washing with kindly tears his gentle cheeks;
With such a deep demeanour in great sorrow,
That tyranny which never quaffed but blood
Would, by beholding him, have washed his knife
With gentle eyedrops. He is coming hither.
K. Hen. But wherefore did he take away the
crown?

Re-enter PRINCE HENRY. Lo where he comes.-Come hither to me, Harry.— Depart the chamber, leave us here alone.

[Exeunt CLARENCE, PRINCE HUMPHREY, Lords, &c.

P. Hen. I never thought to hear you speak again. K. Hen. Thy wish was father, Harry, to that thought:

I stay too long by thee; I weary thee.
Dost thou so hunger for my empty chair,
That thou wilt needs invest thee with mine honours
Before thy hour be ripe? O foolish youth!
Thou seek'st the greatness that will overwhelm

thee.

Stay but a little; for my cloud of dignity
Is held from falling with so weak a wind,
That it will quickly drop: my day is dim.
Thou hast stolen that which, after some few hours,
Were thine without offence: and at my death
Thou hast sealed up my expectation:
Thy life did manifest thou lov'dst me not,
And thou wilt have me die assured of it.
Thou hid'st a thousand daggers in thy thoughts,
Which thou hast whetted on thy stony heart
To stab at half an hour of my life.
What! canst thou not forbear me half an hour?
Then get thee gone, and dig my grave thyself;
And bid the merry bells ring to thine ear
That thou art crownéd, not that I am dead.
Let all the tears that should bedew my hearse
Be drops of balm to sanctify thy head:
Only compound me with forgotten dust;
Give that which gave thee life unto the worms.
Pluck down my officers, break my decrees;
For now a time is come to mock at form.
Harry the fifth is crowned :-up, vanity:
Down, royal state! All you sage counsellors,
hence:

And to the English court assemble now,
From every region, apes of idleness!

Now, neighbour confines, purge you of your scum:
Have you a ruffian that will swear, drink, dance,
Revel the night, rob, murder, and commit
The oldest sins the newest kind of ways?
Be happy; he will trouble you no more:
England shall double gild his treble guilt:
England shall give him office, honour, might:
For the fifth Harry from curbed license plucks
The muzzle of restraint, and the wild dog
Shall flesh his tooth in every innocent.
O my poor kingdom, sick with civil blows,
When that my care could not withhold thy riots,
What wilt thou do when riot is thy care?
O thou wilt be a wilderness again,
Peopled with wolves, thy old inhabitants!

P. Hen. O pardon me, my liege! but for my
tears,
[Kneeling.

The moist impediments unto my speech,
I had forestalled this dear and deep rebuke,
Ere you with grief had spoke, and I had heard
The course of it so far. There is your crown:

And He that wears the crown immortally
Long guard it yours! If I affect it more
Than as your honour and as your renown,
Let me no more from this obedience rise
(Which my most true and inward-duteous spirit
Teacheth); this prostrate and exterior bending!
Heaven witness with me, when I here came in
And found no course of breath within your
majesty,

How cold it struck my heart! If I do feign,
O let me in my present wildness die,
And never live to shew the incredulous world
The noble change that I have purposéd!-
Coming to look on you, thinking you dead
(And dead almost, my liege, to think you were),
I spake unto the crown as having sense,
And thus upbraided it: "The care on thee de-
pending

Hath fed upon the body of my father:
Therefore thou, best of gold, art worst of gold.
Other less fine in carat is more precious,

Preserving life in med'cine potable :

But thou, most fine, most honoured, most renowned,

Hast eat thy bearer up." Thus, my most royal liege,

my father:

Accusing it, I put it on my head,
To try with it as with an enemy
That had before my face murdered
The quarrel of a true inheritor.
But if it did infect my blood with joy,
Or swell my thoughts to any strain of pride;
If any rebel or vain spirit of mine
Did with the least affection of a welcome
Give entertainment to the might of it,
Let God for ever keep it from my head,
And make me as the poorest vassal is
That doth with awe and terror kneel to it!
K. Hen. O my son!

Heaven put it in thy mind to take it hence,
That thou mightst win the more thy father's love,
Pleading so wisely in excuse of it.
Come hither, Harry; sit thou by my bed;
And hear, I think, the very latest counsel
That ever I shall breathe. Heaven knows, my son,
By what by-paths and indirect crooked ways
I met this crown; and I myself know well
How troublesome it sat upon my head.
To thee it shall descend with better quiet,
Better opinion, better confirmation:
For all the soil of the achievement goes
With me into the earth. It seemed in me
But as an honour snatched with boisterous hand,
And I had many living to upbraid
My gain of it by their assistances;
Which daily grew to quarrel and to bloodshed,
Wounding supposéd peace. All these bold fears
Thou seest with peril I have answered,
For all my reign hath been but as a scene
Acting that argument: and now my death
Changes the mode; for what in me was purchased,
Falls upon thee in a more fairer sort:

So thou the garland wear'st successively.
Yet, though thou stand'st more sure than I could do,
Thou art not firm enough; since griefs are green,
And all my friends (which thou must make thy
friends)

Have but their stings and teeth newly ta'en out;

By whose fell working I was first advanced,
And by whose power I well might lodge a fear
To be again displaced: which to avoid,

I cut them off; and had a purpose now
To lead out many to the Holy Land,
Lest rest and lying still might make them look
Too near unto my state. Therefore, my Harry,
Be it thy course to busy giddy minds

With foreign quarrels; that action, hence borne

out,

May waste the memory of the former days.-
More would I, but my lungs are wasted so
That strength of speech is utterly denied me.
How I came by the crown, O God forgive!
And grant it may with thee in true peace live.
P. Hen. My gracious liege,

You won it, wore it, kept it, gave it me:
Then plain and right must my possession be:
Which I, with more than with a common pain,
'Gainst all the world will rightfully maintain.

Enter PRINCE JOHN of Lancaster, WARWICK,
Lords, and others.

K. Hen. Look, look! here comes my John of Lancaster.

P. John. Health, peace, and happiness, to my royal father!

K. Hen. Thou bring'st me happiness and peace,

Shal. With red wheat, Davy. But for William cook :-are there no young pigeons?

Davy. Yes, sir. Here is now the smith's note for shoeing and plough-irons.

Shal. Let it be cast and paid.-Sir John, you shall not be excused.

Davy. Now, sir, a new link to the bucket must needs be had: and, sir, do you mean to stop any of William's wages, about the sack he lost the other day at Hinckley fair?

Shal. He shall answer it.-Some pigeons, Davy, a couple of short-legged hens, a joint of mutton, and any pretty little tiny kickshaws, tell William cook.

Davy. Doth the man of war stay all night, sir? Shal. Yes, Davy. I will use him well: a friend i' the court is better than a penny in purse. Use his men well, Davy; for they are arrant knaves, and will backbite.

Davy. No worse than they are backbitten, sir; for they have marvellous foul linen.

Shal. Well conceited, Davy. About thy business, Davy.

Davy. I beseech you, sir, to countenance William Visor of Wincot against Clement Perkes of the hill.

Shal. There are many complaints, Davy, against that Visor: that Visor is an arrant knave, on my knowledge.

Davy. I grant your worship that he is a knave, sir: but yet God forbid, sir, but a knave should have some countenance at his friend's request. An honest man, sir, is able to speak for himself, when a knave is not. I have served your worship truly, sir, these eight years; and if I cannot once or twice in a quarter bear out a knave against an honest man, I have but a very little credit with your worship. The knave is mine honest friend, sir: therefore, I beseech your worship, let him be countenanced.

Shal. Go to: I say he shall have no wrong.