tervallums. O, it is much that a Lie with a flight Oath, and a Jeft with a fad Brow, will do with a Fellow that ne ver had the Ache in his Shoulders. O you fhall fee him laugh, 'till his Face be like a wet Cloak ill laid up.

Shal. Sir John.

Fal. I come, Mafter Shallow; I come, Mafter Shallow.

[Exeunt.

Enter the Earl of Warwick and the Lord Chief Justice. War. How now, my Lord Chief Juftice, whither away? Ch. Juft. How doth the King?

War. Exceeding well: His Cares

Are now all ended.

Ch. Juft. I hope not dead.

War. He's walk'd the way of Nature, And, to our Purpofes, he lives no more.

Ch. Juft. I would his Majefty had call'd me with him. The Service that I truly did his Life

Hath left me open to all Injuries.

War. Indeed I think the young King loves you not.
Ch. Juft. I know he doth not, and do arm my self
To welcome the condition of the Time,

Which cannot look more hideously upon me,
Than I have drawn it in my fantafie.

Enter Lord John of Lancaster, Gloucester and Clarence.
War. Here comes the heavy Iffue of dead Harry:
O, that the living Harry had the temper

Of him, the worst of these three Gentlemen:
How many Nobles then fhould hold their Places,
That muft ftrike fail to Spirits of vile fort?
Ch. Juft. Alas, I fear all will be over-turn'd.
Lan. Good morrow, Coufin Warwick, good morrow.
Glo. Clar. Good morrow, Coufin.

Lan. We meet like Men that had forgot to speak.
War. We do remember; but our Argument

Is all too heavy to admit much talk.

Lan. Well, peace be with him that hath made us heavy. Ch. Juft. Peace be with us, left we be heavier.

Glo.

Glo. O, good my Lord, you have loft a Friend indeed: And, I dare fwear, you borrow not that Face

Of feeming Sorrow, it is fure your own.

Lan. Tho' no Man be affur'd what Grace to find, You ftand in coldest Expectation.

I am the forrier, would 'twere otherwise.

Cla. Well, you must now fpeak Sir John Falstaff fair, Which fwims against your ftream of Quality.

Ch. Juft. Sweet Princes, what I did, I did in honour, Led by th' Imperial Conduct of my Soul, And never fhall you fee that I will beg A ragged and foreftall'd Remiffion. If Troth and upright Innocency fail me, I'll to the King, my Mafter that is dead, And tell him who hath fent me after him. War. Here comes the Prince.

Enter Prince Henry.

Ch. Juft. Good morrow, and Heav'n fave your Majefty.
P. Henry. This new and gorgeous Garment, Majefty,
Sits not fo eafie on me as you think.

Brothers, you mix your Sadnefs with fome Fear;
This is the English, not the Turkish Court:
Not Amurah an Amurah fucceeds,

But Harry, Harry. Yet be fad, good Brothers,
For, to speak truth, it very well becomes you:
Sorrow fo Royally in you appears,

V

That I will deeply put the fashion on,

And wear it in my Heart. Why then be fad,
But entertain no more of it, good Brothers,
Than a joint-burthen laid upon us all.
For me, by Heav'n, I bid you be affur'd,
I'll be your Father and your Brother too:
Let me but bear your Love, I'll bear your Cares;
But weep that Harry's dead, and fo will I.
But Harry lives, that fhall convert those Tears
By number, into hours of Happiness.

Lan. &c. We hope no other from your Majefty.

P. Henry. You all look ftrangely on me; and you most. You are, I think, affur'd I love you not. [To the Ch. Just. Ch. Juft. I am affur'd, if I be meafur'd rightly,

Your Majefty hath no just cause to hate me.

P. Henry.

K. Henry. No! How might a Prince of my great Hopes
So great Indignities you laid upon me?
[forget
What! Rate! Rebuke and roughly send to Prifon
Th' immediate Heir of England! Was this cafie?
May this be wash'd in Lethe, and forgotten?

Ch. Juft. I then did use the Perfon of your Father;
The Image of his Power lay then in me,
And, in th'Administration of his Law,
Whiles I was bufie for the Common-wealth,
Your Highness pleased to forget my Place,
The Majefty and Power of Law and Justice,
The Image of the King, whom I prefented,
And ftruck me in my very Seat of Judgment:
Whereon, as an Offender to your Father,
I gave bold way to my Authority,

And did commit you. If the Deed were ill,
Be you contented, wearing now the Garland,
To have a Son, fet your Decrees at naught?
To pluck down Juftice from your awful Bench?
To trip the Course of Law, and blunt the Sword
That guards the peace and fafety of your Perfon?
Nay, more, to fpurn at your moft Royal Image,
And mock your workings in a fecond Body?
Question your Royal Thoughts, make the cafe yours;
Be now the Father, and propofe a Son:

Hear your own Dignity fo much prophan'd,
See your moft dreadful Laws fo loofely flighted;
Behold your felf fo by a Son difdain'd:
And then imagine me taking your part,
And in your Power foft filencing your Son:
After this cold confiderance, fentence me;
And, as you are a King, fpeak in your State,
What I have done that misbecame my Place,
My Perfon, or my Liege's Sovereignty.

P. Henry. You are right Juftice, and you weigh this well; Therefore ftill bear the Ballance, and the Sword

And I do wish your Honours may increase,
'Till you do live to fee a Son of mine
Offend you, and obey you, as I did:
So fhall I live to speak my Father's words.
Happy am I, that have a Man fo bold,

:

That

That dares do Justice on my proper Son;
And no lefs happy having fuch a Son,
That would deliver up his greatnefs-fo

Into the hands of Juftice. You did commit me;
For which I do commit into your Hand
Th' unftained Sword that you have us'd to bear,
With this Remembrance, that you use the fame
With the like bold, juft and impartial Spirit
As you have done 'gainft me. There is my Handy
You fhall be as a Father to my Youth.

My Voice shall found as you do prompt mine Ear
And I will ftoop and humble my Intents
To your well pra&tis'd wife Directions.
And Princes all, believe me, I beseech you;
My Father is gone wild into his Grave,
(For in his Tomb lye my Affections)
And, with his Spirit, fadly I furvive,
To mock the Expectations of the World:
To fruftrate Prophefies, and to race out
Rotten Opinion, who hath writ me down
After my feeming. The tide of Blood in me
Hath proudly flow'd in Vanity 'till now.
Now doth it turn and ebb back to the Sea;
Where it shall mingle with the ftate of Floods,
And flow henceforth in formal Majefty.
Now call we our High Court of Parliament,
And let us chufe fuch Limbs of noble Counsel
That the great Body of our State may go
In equal rank with the beft govern'd Nation;
That War or Peace, or both at once, may be
As things acquainted and familiar to us,
In which you, Father, fhall have formoft Hand.

Our Coronation done, we will accite

[To Lord Chief Justice

(As I before remembred) all our State,
And (Heaven configning to my good Intents)
No Prince, nor Peer, fhall have juft caufe to fay,
Heaven fhorten Harry's happy life one day.

[Exeunt

SCENE

Enter Falstaff, Shallow, Silence, Bardolph, Page, and Davy.

Shal. Nay, you shall fee' mine Orchard, where in an Ar bor we will eat a laft Years Pippin of my own graffing, with a Difh of Carraways, and fo forth: Come, Coufin Silence;

and then to Bed.

Fal. You have here a goodly dwelling, and a rich.

Shal. Barren, barren, barren: Beggars all, beggars all, Sir John: Marry, good Air. Spread Davy, fpread Davy: Well faid, Davy.

your

Fal. This Davy ferves you for good ufes; he is Ser vingman, and your Husbandman.

Shal. A good Varlet, a good Varlet, a very good Varlet,
Sir John: I have drank too much Sack at Supper. A good
Varlet. Now fit down, now fit down: Come, Coufin.
Sil. Ah, Sirrah, quoth-a,

We fall do nothing but eat, and make good Chear, [Singing.
And praife Heaven for the merry Year;
When Flesh is cheap and Females dear,

And lufty Lads roam here and there;

So merrily, and ever among fo merrily, &c.

Fal. There's a merry Heart, good Mafter Silence. I'll drink your health for that anon.

Shal. Good Mafter Bardolph: Some wine, Davy.

Davy. Sweet Sir, fit; I'll be with you anon; most sweet Sir, fit. Mater Page, fit: Good Mafter Page, fit: Proface, What you want in Meat we'll have in Drink; but you bear,

the Heart's all.

Shal. Be merry, Mafter Bardolph, and my little Soldier there, be merry.

Sil. [Singing.] Be merry, be merry, my Wife has all, For Women are Shrews, both fhort and tall;

'Tis merry in Hall, when Beards wag all;

And welcome, merry Shrovetide.

Be merry, be merry.

Fal I did not think Mafter Silence had been a Man of this Mettle.

Sil. Who I? I have been merry twice and once e'er now.
Dav. There is a difh of Leather-coats for
Shal Don

you.

Dav.