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A Wise King, and a BotD and Impartial Judge,
INSTANCED IN THE CONDUCT OF HENRY V. AND LORD CH1EP JUSTICE GASCOIGNE.
Ch. Just. I Am assur'd, if I be measur'd rightly, Your Majesty hath no just cause to hate me.
P. Henky. No! might a Prince of my great hopes forget
Ch. Just. I then did use the person of your father;
P. Henry. 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,
Into the hand of justice. You committed me;
For which I do commit into your hand
Th' unstained sword that you have us'd to bear;
"With this remembrance, that you use the same
Vv'ith a 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-practis'd 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 expectations of the world;
To frustrate prophecies, and to raze out
Rotten opinion, which hath writ me down
After my seeming. Though my tide of blood C
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 chuse such limbs of noble counsel,
That the great body of our state may go
In equal rank with the bestgovern'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 1 before remember'd) all our state
And (Heav'n consigning to my good intents)
No prince, nor peer, shall have just cause to say,
Heav'n shorten Harry's happy life one day.
The Vanity of Power and the Misery of Kings:
A DIALOGUE BETWEEN SCROOP AND RICHARD II.
Scroop. More health and happiness betide my Liege, Than can my care-tun'd tongue deliver him!
K. Rich. Mine ear is open" and mine heart prepar'd;
Scroop. Glad am I that your Highness is so arm'd
K. Rich. Too well, too well thou tell'st a tale so ill.
No matter where; of comfort no man speak.
Let's talk of graves, of worms, and epitaphs,
And yet not so for what can we bequeath,
Save our deposed bodies to the ground? •; Our lands, our lives, and all, are Bolingbroke's;
And nothing can we call our own but death,
And that small model of the barren earth,
Which serves as paste and cover to our bones.
For heav'n's sake, let us sit upon the ground,
And tell sad stories of the death of Kings;
How some have been depos'd, some slain in war;
Some haunted by the ghosts they dispossess'd;
Some poison'd by their wives, some sleeping kill'd;
All murder'd.—For within the hollow crown,
That rounds the mortal temples of a King,
Keeps Death his court; and there the antic sits,
Scoffing his state, and grinning at his pomp; .•
Allowing him a breath, a little scene
To monarchize, be fear'd, and kill with looks;
Infusing him with self and vain conceit,
As if this flesh, which walls about our life,
Were brass impregnable; and, humour'd thus,
Comes at the last, and with a little pin
ISores through his.castle walls, and farewel King.'
Cover your heads, and mock not flesh and blood
With solemn rev'rence: throw away respect,
Tradition, form, and ceremonious duty,
Far you have but mistook me all this while.
I live on bread like you, feel want like you;
Taste grief, need friends like you: subjected thus,
How can you say to me I am a king?
The Upbraibings of a Father, and the Piei Y of a Son:
A DIALOGUE BETWEEN KING HENRY IV. AND PRINCE
P. Henry. I Never thought to hear you speak again.
K. Henry. Thy wish was father, Harry, to that thought. 1 stay too long by thee, I weary thee. Dost thou so hunger for my empty chair, That thou wilt needs invest thee with my 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 stol'n that, which,. after some few hours,
Were thine without offence; and at my death,
Thou hast seal'd up my expectation.
Thy life did manifest, thou lov'dst me not;.
And thou wilt have rue die assur'd of it.
1 hou hid'st a thousand daggers in thy thoughts,
Which thou hast whetted on thy stony heart,
To stab at halt an hour of my frail 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 thy ear,
That thou art crowned, not that 1 am dead,
J,et 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 worm*,
Pluck down my officers, break my decrees;
For now a time is come to mock at form;
Henry the Fifth is ciown'd: up, Vanity!
Down, Royal state! All you sage counsellors, hence!
And to the English court assemble now,
From ev'ry region, apes ot 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 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 on ev'ry innocent.
0 my poor kingdom, sick with civil blows!
O, thou wilt be a wilderness again,
P. Henry. O pardon me, my Liegei but for my tears, (1 he moist impediments unto my speech)
1 had forestall'd this dear and deep rebuke,