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, dear father, pay thee plenteously :
My due from thee is this imperial crown,
Which, as immediate from thy place and blood v
Derives itself to me. Lo, here it sits,
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 'tis left to me. Exit.
King. 'Warwick ! Gloucester ! Clarence !
Re-enter Warwick and the rest.
Cla. Doth the king call ?
War. What would your majesty ? How fares
your grace ?
King. 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.
King. 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.
King. Where is the crown? who took it from
my pillow ?
War. When we withdrew, my liege, we left it
here.
King. The prince hath ta'en it hence : go, seek
him out.
ACT IV., Sc. 5.
KING HENRY IV. PART II.
443
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 cankered heaps of strange-achieved gold ;
For this they have been thoughtful to invest
Their sons with arts and martial exercises :
When, like the bee, tolling from every flower
The virtuous sweets,
Our thighs packed with wax, our mouths with
honey,
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 quaff 'd but blood,
Would, by beholding him, have wash'd his knife
With gentle eye-drops. He is coming hither.
King. But wherefore did he take away the
crown ?
Lo, where he comes.
Re-enter Prince of Wales.
Come hither to me, Harry.
Depart the chamber, leave us here alone.
Exeunt Warwick and the rest.
Pri. I never thought to hear you speak again.
King. 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 ? 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 lovedst 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 crowned, 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 imto the worms.
Pluck down my officers, break my decrees ;
For now a time is come to mock at form :
Harry the Fifth is crown' d ! 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,
Eevel 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 curb'd licence plucks
The muzzle of restraint, and the wild dog
Shall flesh his tooth in every innocent.
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 !
Pri. O, pardon me, my liege ! but for my tears,
The moist impediments unto my speech,
1 had forestall'd 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 ma-
jesty,
How cold it struck my heart ! if I do feign,
0, let me in my present wildness die,
And neve* live to show the incredulous world
The noble change that I have purposed !
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 onthee depending
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 medicine potable ;
But thou most fine, most honoured, most re-
nowned,
Hast eat thy bearer up. Thus, my most royal
liege,
Accusing it, I put it on my head,
To try with it, as with an enemy
That had before my face murder' d my father,
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 !
King. my son,
God put it in thy mind to take it hence,
KING HENRY IV. PART II.
ACT V., Sc. 1.
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. God knows, my son,
By what by-paths and indirect crook'd 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 snatch' d 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 supposed 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 pur-
chased,
Falls upon thee in a more fairer sort ;
So thou the garment 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 thy 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, God, forgive ;
And grant it may with thee in true peace live !
Pri. 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 tha,n with a common pain,
'Gainst all the world will rightfully maintain.
Enter John of Lancaster, Warwick, Lords
and others.
King. Look, look, here comes my John of
Lancaster.
Lan. Health, peace, and happiness to my royal
father !
King. Thou bring' st me happiness and peace,
son John ;
But health, alack, with youthful wings is flown
From this bare wither' d trunk : upon thy sight
My worldly business makes a period.
Where is my Lord of Warwick ?
Pri. My Lord of Warwick !
King. Doth any name particular belong
Unto the lodging where I first did swoon ?
War. 'Tis call'd Jerusalem, my noble lord.
King. Laud be to God ! even there my lif e must
end.
It hath been prophesied to me many years,
I should not die but in Jerusalem ;
Which vainly I suppos'd the Holy Land :
But bear me to that chamber ; there I '11 lie ;
In that Jerusalem shall Harry die. Exeunt.
Act V.
Scene I. Gloucestershire. Shallow's House.
Enter Shallow, Falstaff, Bardolph and Page.
Shal. By cock and pie, sir, you shall not away
to-night. What, Davy, I say !
Fal. You must excuse me, Master Eobert
Shallow.
Shal. I will not excuse you ; you shall not be
excused ; excuses shall not be admitted ; there is
no excuse shall serve ; you shall not be excused.
Why, Davy !
Enter Davy.
Davy. Here, sir.
Shal. Davy, Davy, Davy, Davy, let me see,
Davy ; let me see : yea, marry, William cook,
bid him come hither. Sir John, you shall not be
excused.
Davy. Marry, sir, thus ; those precepts cannot
be served : and again, sir, shall we sow the head-
land with wheat ?
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. Yea, 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 back-bitten, sir ;
for they have marvellous foul linen.
Shal. Well conceited, Davy. About thy busi-
ness, Davy.
Davy. I beseech you, sir, to countenance Wil-
liam Visor of Winco,t against Clement Perkes of
the hiU.
Sh al. 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, this 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,
ACT V., Sc. 2.
KING HENRY IV. PART II.
445
sir; therefore, I beseech your worship, let him
be countenanced.
Shot. Go to ; I say. he shall have no wrong.
Look about, Davy. [Exit Davy.'] Where are
you, Sir John ? Come, come, come, off with your
boots. Give me your hand, Master Bardolph.
Bar. I am glad to see your worship.
Shal. I thank thee with all my heart, kind
Master Bardolph : [To the Page.'] and welcome,
my tall fellow. Come, Sir John.
Fal. I '11 follow you, good Master Robert
Shallow. [Exit Shallow.* Bardolph, look to
our horses. [Exeunt Bardolph and Page.] If
I were sawed into quantities, I should make four
dozen of such bearded hermit's staves as Master
Shallow. It is a wonderful thing to see the
semblable coherence of his men's spirits and his t
they, by observing him, do bear themselves like
foolish justices ; he, by conversing with them, is
turned into a justice-iike serving-man : their
spirits are so married in conjunction with the 1
participation of society that they flock together
in consent, like so many wild geese. If I had a
suit to Master Shallow, I would humour his men.
with the imputation of being near their master :
if to his men, I would curry with Master Shallow,
that no man could better command his servants.
It is certain, that either wise bearing or ignorant
carriage is caught, as men take diseases, one of
another : therefore, let men take heed of their
company. I will devise matter enough out of
this Shallow, to keep Prince Harry in continual
laughter the wearing out of six fashions, which is
four terms, or two actions, and he shall laugh
without intervallums. O, it is much that a lie
with a slight oath and a jest with a sad brow will
do with a fellow that never had the ache in his
shoulders ! O, you shall see him laugh, till his
face be like a wet cloak ill laid up !
Shal. [Within.] Sir John !
FaL I come, Master Shallow ; I come, Master
Shallow. Exit.
Scene II. Westminster. The Palace.
Enter Warwick and the Lor~d Chief Justice.
War. How now, my Lord Chief Justice!
whither away ?
Ch. Jus. How doth the king?
War. Exceeding well; his cares are now all
ended.
Ch. Jus. I hope, not dead.
War. He 's walk'd the way of nature ;
And to our purposes he lives no more.
Ch. Jus. I would his majesty 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. Jus. 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 fantasy.
Enter John of Lancaster, Humphrey of Glou-
cester, Clarence, Westmoreland and other*.
War. Here come the heavy issue of dead Harry :
0, that the living Harry had the temper
Of him, the worst of these three gentlemen !
How many nobles then should hold their places,
That must strike sail to spirits of vile sort !
Ch. Jus. God, I fear, all will be overturned !
Lan. Good morrow, cousin Warwick, good
morrow.
P. Hum. Cla. Good morrow, cousin.
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. Jus. Peace be with us, lest we be heavier !
P. Hum. O, good my lord, you have lost a
friend indeed :
And I dare swear you borrow not that face
Of seeming sorrow, it is sure your own.
Lan. Though no man be assured what grace
to find,
You stand in coldest expectation :
I am the sorrier; would 'twere otherwise.
Cla. Well, you must now speak Sir John Fal-
staff fair ;
Which swims against your stream of quality.
Ch. Jus. Sweet princes, what I did, I did in
honour,
Led by the impartial conduct of my soul ;
And never shall you see that I will beg
A ragged and forestall' d remission.
If truth and upright innocency fail me,
I '11 to the king, my master, that is dead,
And tell him who hath sent me after him.
War. Here comes the prince.
Enter King Henry V.
Ch. Jus. Good morrow, and God save your
majesty !
King. This new and gorgeous garment, ma-
jesty,
Sits not so easy on me as you think.
Brothers, you mix your sadness with some fear :
This is the English, not the Turkish court ;
Not Amurath an Amurath succeeds,
But Harry Harry. Yet be sad, good brothers,
For, to speak truth, it very well becomes you :
Sorrow so royally in you appears,
That I will deeply put the fashion on,
And wear it in my heart : why then, be sad;
But entertain no more of it, good brothers,
Than a joint burden laid upon us all.
For me, by heaven, I bid you be assured,
I '11 be your father and your brother too ;
Let me but bear your love, I '11 bear your cares :
Yet weep that Harry 's dead, and so will I ;
But Harry lives that shall convert those tears
By number into hours of happiness.
Lan. , J"c. We hope no other from your majesty.
King. You all look strangely on me : and you
most:
You are, I think, assured I love you not.
Ch. Jus. I am assured, if I be measured rightly,
Your majesty hath no just cause to hate me.
King. No !
How might a prince of my great hopes forget
So great indignities you laid upon me ?
What! rate, rebuke, and roughly send to prison
The immediate heir of England ? Was this easy ?
May this be washed in Lethe, and forgotten ?
446
KING HENRY IV. ~ PART II.
ACT V., Sc. 3.
Ch. Jus. I then did use the person of your
father,
The image of his power lay then in me :
And, in the administration of his law,
Whiles I was busy for the commonwealth,
Your highness pleased to forget my place,
The majesty and power of law and justice,
The image of the king whom I presented,
And struck 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 set your decrees at nought ;
To pluck down justice from your awful bench,
To trip the course of law and blunt the sword
That guards the peace and safety of your person :
Nay, more, to spurn at your most royal image,
And mock your workings in a second body.
Question your royal thoughts, make the case
yours ;
Be now the father and propose a son ;
Hear your own dignity so much profaned,
See your most dreadful laws so loosely slighted,
Behold yourself so by a son disdained :
And then imagine me taking your part,
And in your power soft silencing your son.
After this cold considerance, sentence me ;
And, as you are a king, speak in your state,
What I have done that misbecame my place,
My person, or my liege's sov'reignty.
King. You are right, justice, and you weigh
this well :
Therefore still bear the balance, and the sword :
And I do wish your honours may increase,
Till you do live to see a son of mine
Offend you, and obey you, as I did.
So shall I live to speak my father's words :
Happy am I, that have a man so bold,
That dares do justice on my proper son ;
And not less happy, having such a son,
That would deliver up his greatness so
Into the hands of justice. You did commit me :
For which, I do commit into your hand
The unstained sword that you have us'd to bear ;
With this remembrance, that you use the same
With the like bold, just and impartial spirit,
As you have done 'gainst me. There is my hand.
You shall be as a father to my youth :
My voice shall sound as you do prompt mine ear,
And I will stoop and humble my intents
To your well-practised wise directions.
And princes all, believe me, I beseech you ;
My father is gone wild into his grave,
For in his tomb lie my affections ;
And with his spirit sadly I survive,
To mock the expectation of the world,
To frustrate prophecies, and to raze out
Kotten opinion, who hath writ me down
After my seeming. 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 state of floods,
And flow henceforth in formal majesty.
Now call we our high court of parliament,
And let us choose such limbs of noble counsel,
That the great body of our state may go
In equal rank with the best govern' d nation ;
That war or peace, or both at once, may be
As things acquainted and familiar to us ;
In which you, father, shall have foremost hand.
Our coronation done, we will accite,
As I before remember' d, all our state :
And, God consigning to my good intents,
No prince, nor peer, shall have just cause to say,
God shorten Harry's happy life one day.
Exeunt.
Scene III. Gloucestershire. The Garden of
Shallow's House.
Enter Falstaff, Shallow, Silence, Bardolph, the
Page and Davy.
Shal. Nay, you shall see mine orchard, where,
in an arbour, we will eat a last year's pippin of
my own grafting, with a dish of carraways, and so-
forth. Come, cousin Silence : and then to bed.
Fal. 'Fore God, you have here a goodly dwell-
ing, and a rich.
Shal. Barren, barren, barren ; beggars all, beg-
gars all, Sir John : marry, good air. Spread,
Davy ; spread, Davy : well said, Davy.
Fal. This Davy serves you for good uses ; he
is your serving-man and your husband.
Shal. A good varlet, a good varlet, a very good
varlet, Sir John. By the mass, I have drunk too
much sack at supper : -A good varlet. Now sit
down, now sit down. Come, cousin.
Sil. Ah, sirrah ! quoth-a, we shall [Singing.
Do nothing but eat, and make good cheer,
And praise heaven for the merry year :
When flesh is cheap and females dear,
And lusty lads roam here and there
So merrily,
And ever among so merrily.
Fal. There 's a merry heart ! Good Master
Silence, I '11 give you a health for that, anon.
Shal. Give Master Bardolph some wine, Davy.
Davy. Sweet sir, sit ; I '11 be with you anon ;
most sweet sir, sit. Master page, good master
page, sit. Prof ace ! What you want in meat,
we '11 have in drink : but you must bear ; the
heart 's all. Exit.
Shal. Be merry, Master Bardolph ; and my
little soldier there, be merry.
Sil. [Singing.]
Be merry, be merry, my wife has all;
For women are shrews, both short and tall :
'Tin merry in hall ivhen beards wag all,
And welcome merry shrove-tide.
Be merry, be merry, fyc.
Fal. I did not think Master Silence had been
a ma.n of this mettle.-
Sil. Who, I ? I have been merry twice and
once ere now.
Re-enter Davy.
Davy. There is a dish of leather-coats for you.
Setting them before Bardolph.
Shal. Davy!
Davy. Your worship ? I '11 be with you straight.
A cup of wine, sir ?
Sil. [Singing.']
A cup of wine, that's brisk and fine,
And drink unto the leman mine ;
And a merry heart lives long-a.
ACT V., Sc. 4.
KING HENRY IV. PART II.
447
Fal. Well said, Master Silence.
Sil. And we shall be merry ; now comes in the
sweet of the night.
Fal. Health and long life to you, Master Silence.
Sil. [Singing.]
Fill the cup, and let it come ;
I'll pledge you a mile to the bottom.
Shal. Honest Bardolph, welcome : if thou
wantest anything, and wilt not call, beshrew
thy heart. Welcome, my little tiny thief; and
welcome, indeed, too. I '11 drink to Master Bar-
dolph, and to all the cavaleros about London.
Davy. I hope to see London once ere I die.
Bar. An I might see you there, Davy.
Shal. By the mass, you '11 crack a quart to-
gether, ha ! will you not, Master Bardolph ?
Bar. Yea, sir, in a pottle-pot.
Shal. I thank thee : the knave will stick by
thee, I can assure thee that. A' will not out ;
he is true bred.
Bar. And I '11 stick by him, sir.
Shal. Why, there spoke a king. Lack nothing :
be merry. Look who 's at door there. Ho ! who
knocks ?
Fal. [To Silence, ivho drinks a lumper.'] Why,
now you have done me right.
Sil. [Singing.^
Do me right,
And dub me Icnight :
Samingo.
Is't not so?
Fal. 'Tis so.
Sil. Is 't so ? Why, then, say an old man can
do somewhat.
Davy. An 't please your worship, there 's one
Pistol come from the court with news.
Fal. From the court ? let him come in.
Enter Pistol.
How now, Pistol !
Pist. God save you, Sir John !
Fal. What wind blew you hither, Pistol ?
Pist. Not the ill wind which blows no man to
good. Sweet knight, thou art now one of the
greatest men in the realm.
Sil. By 'r lady, I think he be, but goodman
Puff of Barson.
Pist. Puff?
Puff in thy teeth, most recreant coward base !
Sir John, I am thy Pistol and thy friend,
And helter-skelter have I rode to' thee,
And tidings do I bring and lucky joys,
And golden times and happy news of price.
Fal. I pray thee now, deliver them like a man
of this world.
Pist. A foutra for the world, and worldlings
base !
I speak of Africa and golden joys.