P. Hen. Who saw the duke of Clarence?
Cla. I am here, brother, full of heaviness.
P. Hen. How now! rain within doors, and none
abroad!
How doth the king?

P. Humph. Exceeding ill.

P. Hen. Heard he the good news yet? Bar-Tell it him.

Re-enter WARWICK, and the rest.

Cla. Doth the king call?

War. What would your majesty? How fares your grace?

K. Hen. 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.

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 ho

nours

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,

K. Hen. The prince of Wales? Where is he? Were thine without offence; and, at my death,

let me see him:

He is not here.

War. This door is open; he is gone this way. P. Humph. He came not through the chamber where we stay'd.

K. Hen. Where is the crown? who took it from my pillow?

War. When we withdrew, my liege, we left

it here.

K. Hen. The prince hath ta'en it hence:-go,

seek him out.

Is he so hasty, that he doth suppose
My sleep my death?

ther.

Find him, my lord of Warwick; chide him hi-
[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,
brains with care,

Their bones with industry;

Thou hast seal'd 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 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, unto 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!

their 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 curb'd license plucks
The muzzle of restraint, and the wild dog
Shall flesh his tooth in every innocent.

For this they have engrossed and pil'd up
The canker'd 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 pack'd with wax, our mouths with
honey,

We bring it to the hive; and, like the bees,
Are murder'd for our pains. This bitter taste
Yield his engrossmentst to the ending father.--
Re-enter WARWICK.

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 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,
Than as your honour, and as your renown,
Long guard it yours! If I affect it more,
Let me no more from this obedience rise,
(Which my most true and inward-duteous spi-

rit

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 on thee depend-
ing,

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 honour'd, most re-
nown'd,

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!

K. Hen. O, my son !

Heaven put it in thy mind, to take it hence,
That thou might'st 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 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 seem'd 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 see'st 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-
chas'd,¶

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 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 advanc'd,
And by whose power I well might lodge a fear
To be again displac'd: 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 1, 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,
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?

P. Hen. My lord of Warwick!

K. Hen. Doth any name particular belong
Unto the lodging where I first did swoon?.

War. 'Tis called Jerusalem, my noble lord.
K. Hen. Laud be to God!-even there my life
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'll lie:
In that Jerusalem shall Harry die. [Exeunt.

ACT V.

SCENE I.--Glostershire.--A Hall in SHALLOW's

House.

Enter SHALLOW, FALSTAFF, BARDOLPH, and
PAGE.

Shal. By cock and pye, Sir, you shall not away
to-night.-What, Davy, I say!
Fal. You must excuse me, master Robert Shal-
low.

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,-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 headland 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.

Dary. Doth the man of war stay all night,

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 back-bitten, 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 wor. ship 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, Sir; therefore, I beseech your worship, let him be countenanced.

Shal. Go to; I say, he shall have no wrong.Look about, Davy. [Exit Davy.] Where are you, Sir John? Come, off with your boots.Give me your hand, master Bardolph.

Bard. I am glad to see your worship. Shal. I thank thee with all my heart, kind master Bardolph:—and welcome, my tall fellow. [To the PAGE.] Come, Sir John.

[Exit SHALLOW.

War. Exceeding well; his cares are now all ended.

Ch. Just. I hope, not dead.

War. He's walk'd the way of nature;
And, to our purposes, he lives no more.
Ch. Just. 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.

you not.

War. Indeed, I think, the young king loves
[self,
Ch. Just. I know he doth not; and do army-
To welcome the condition of the time;
Which cannot look more hideously on me
Than I have drawn it in my fantasy.
Enter Prince JOHN, Prince HUMPHREY, CLA-
RENCE, WESTMORELAND, and others.
War. Here comes the heavy issue of dead Har-
O, 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!

[ry:

Ch. Just. Alas! I fear, all will be overturn'd.
P. John. Good morrow, cousin Warwick.
P. Humph. Cla. Good morrow, cousin.
P. John. We meet like men that had forgot to
speak.

War. We do remember; but our argument
Is all too heavy to admit much talk.

P. John. Well, peace be with him that hath made us heavy!

Ch. Just. Peace be with us, lest we be heavier! P. Humph. O, good my lord, you have lost a friend, indeed:

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. Just. Sweet princes, what I did, I did in

honour,

Fal. I'll follow you, good master Robert Shallow. Bardolph, look to our horses. [Exeunt | And I dare swear, you borrow not that face BARDOLPH and PAGE.] If I were sawed into Of seeming sorrow; it is, sure, your own. quantities, I should make four dozen of such P. John. Though no man be assur'd what bearded hermit's staves as master Shallow. It is a wonderful thing, to see the semblable coherence of his men's spirits and his: They, by observing him, do bear themselves like foolish justices; he, by conversing with them, is turned into a justice-like serving-man; their spirits are so married in conjunction with the 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 beåring, 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.t

*

Shal. [Within.] Sir John!
Fal. I come, master Shallow; I come, master
Shallow.
[Exit FALSTAFF.
SCENE II.-Westminster.-A Room in the Pa-

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'll 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. Just. Good morrow; and heaven save
your majesty!

King. This new and gorgeous garment, ma-
Sits not so easy on me as you think.-
Brothers, you mix your sadness with some fear;
[jesty,
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,
For me, by heaven, I bid you be assur'd,
Than a joint burden laid upon us all.
I'll be your father and your brother too;
Let me but bear your love, I'll bear your cares.
*Emperor of the Turks, died in 1596; his son, which suns
ceeded him, had all his brothers strangled.

Yet weep, that Harry's dead; and so will I:
But Harry lives, that shall convert those tears,
By number, into hours of happiness.

P. John, &c. We hope no other from your
majesty.

King. You all look strangely on me :-and you most; [To the CH. JUSTICE. You are, I think, assur'd I love you not.

Ch. Just. I am assur'd, if I be measur'd 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 wash'd in Lethe, and forgotten?
Ch. Just. 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.t
Question your royal thoughts, make the case
Be now the father, and propose a son: [yours;
Hear your own dignity so much profan'd,
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 sovereignty.

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-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 expectation of the world;
To frustrate prophecies; and to raze out
Rotten 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;
And flow henceforth in formal majesty.
Where it shall mingle with the state of floods,
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 thing acquainted and familiar to us ;--
In which you, father, shall have foremost hand.-
[To the Lord CH. JUSTICE.

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,-
Heaven shorten Harry's happy life one day.
[Exeunt.

SCENE III-Glostershire.-The Garden of
SHALLOW's house.

Enter FALSTAFF, SHALLOW, SILENCE, BAR-
DOLPH, 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 graffing, with a dish of carraways, and so forth;-come, cousin Silence;-and then to bed. Fal. 'Fore God, you have here a goodly dwelling, and a rich.

Shal. Barren, barren, barren; beggars all, beggars 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 husbandman.

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 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.

[Singing.