And the old folk (time's doting chronicles) Say, it did fo a little time before
That our great Grandfire Edward fick'd and dy'd. War. Speak lower, Princes, for the King recovers. Glou. This apoplex will, certain, be his end.
K. Henry. I pray you, take me up, and bear me
Into fome other chamber: foftly, 'pray.
Let there be no noise made, my gentle friends, Unless fome doleing, favourable hand Will whisper mufic to my weary spirit.
War. Call for the mufic in the other room. K. Henry. Set me the crown upon the pillow here. Ela. His eye is hollow, and he changes much. War. Lefs noife, lefs noife.
P. Henry. WHO faw the Duke of Clarence?
Cla. I am here, brother, full of hea
P. Henry. How now ! rain within doors, and none
How doth the King?
Glou. Exceeding ill.
P. Henry. Heard he the good news yet? Tell it him.
Glou. He alter'd much upon the hearing it. P. Henry. If he be fick with joy,
He'll recover without phyfic.
War. Not fo much noife, my lords; fweet Prince, speak low;
The King, your father, is difpos'd to fleep.
Cla. Let us withdraw into the other room.
War. Will't please your grace to go along with us? P. Henry. No; I will fit, and watch here by the King..
[Exeunt all but P. Henry..
Why doth the Crown lie there upon the pillow, Being fo trouble fome a bed-fellow ?
O polish'd perturbation! golden care! That keep't the ports of flumber open wide To many a watchful night: fleep with it now! Yet not fo found, and half so deeply fweet, As he, whose brow, with homely biggen bound, Snores out the watch of night. O Majefty! When thou doft pinch thy bearer, thou doft fit Like a rich armour worn in heat of day,
That fcalds with fafety. By his gates of breath There lies a downy feather, which stirs not: Did he fufpire, that light and weightlefs Down Perforce muft move. My gracious lord! my father! This fleep is found, indeed; this is a fleep, *That from this golden Rigol hath divorc'd So many English Kings. Thy Due from me Is tears, and heavy forrows 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 fits,
Which heav'n fhall guard: and put the world's whole ftrength
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.
Enter Warwick, Gloucefter, and Clarence.
JARWICK! Gloucefter! Clarence! Cla. Doth the King call?
War. What would your Majesty? how fares your
That from this golden Rigol] Rigol or Circle; meaning the
K. Henry. Why did you leave me here alone, my lords?
Cla. We left the Prince my brother here, my Liege, Who undertook to fit and watch by you.
K. Henry. The Prince of Wales! where is he? let me fee him.
War. This door is open, he is gone this way.
Glou. He came not through the chamber where we ftay'd.
K. Henry. Where is the Crown? who took it from my pillow?
War. When we withdrew, my Liege, we left it here. K. Henry. The Prince hath ta'en it hence? go seek him out.
Is he fo hafty, that he doth suppose
My fleep my death? find him, my lord of Warwick, And chide him hither ftraight; this part of his Conjoins with my disease, and helps to end me. See, fons, what things you are! how quickly nature Falls to revolt, when gold becomes her object? For this, the foolish over-careful fathers
Have broke their fleeps with thought, their brains with
Their bones with industry: for this, engrossed
The canker'd heaps of ftrange-atchieved gold: For this, they have been thoughtful to invest Their fons with arts and martial exercises: When, like the Bee, culling from ev'ry flow'r, Our thighs are packt with wax, our mouths with honey,
We bring it to the hive; and, like the Bees, Are murder'd for our pains! this bitter tafte Yield his engroffments to the dying father.
Now, where is he, that will not flay fo long, 'Till his friend, Sickness, hath determin'd me? War. My lord, I found the Prince in the next room,
Washing with kindly tears his gentle cheeks; With fuch a deep demeanour in great forrow, That Tyranny, which never quaft but blood, Would by beholding him have wash'd his knife With gentle eye-drops. He is coming hither. K. Henry. But wherefore did he take away the Crown?
Lo, where he comes. Come hither to me, Harry; Depart the chamber, leave us here alone. [Exe. Lords. P. Henry. I never thought to hear you speak again. K. Henry. Thy wish was father, Harry, to that thought:
I ftay too long by thee, I weary thee.
Doft thou fo hunger for my empty Chair,
That thou wilt needs inveft thee with my Honours, Before thy hour be ripe? O foolish youth!
'Thou feek'ft the Greatnefs, 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 haft ftoln That, which, after fome few hours, Were thine without offence; and at my death Thou haft feal'd up my expectation;
Thy life did manifeft, thou lov'dft me not; And thou wilt have me die affur'd of it.
Thou hid'ft a thousand daggers in thy thoughts, Which thou haft whetted on thy ftony heart, To ftab at half an hour of my frail life.
What! canft 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 I am dead. Let all the tears, that fhould bedew my herse, Be drops of balm to sanctify thy head; Only compound me with forgotten duft,
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 ; Henry the Fifth is crown'd: up, Vanity
Down, royal State! All you fage Councellors, hence; And to the English Court affemble now, From ev'ry region, apes of Idlenefs :
Now, neighbour confines, purge you of your fcum ; Have you a ruffian that will fwear? drink? dance? Revel the night? rob? murder? and commit The oldeft fins the neweft kind of ways ? Be happy, he will trouble you no more: [England fhall double gild his treble Guilt;] England fhall give him office, honour, might: For the Fifth Harry from curb'd licence plucks The muzzle of reftraint; and the wild dog Shall flesh his tooth on every innocent. O my poor kingdom, fick 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. Henry. O pardon me, my Liege! but for my
(The moist impediments unto my speech,) I had fore-ftall'd this dear and deep rebuke, Ere you with grief had fpoke, and I had heard The course of it so far. There is, your 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 rife, Which my moft true and inward-duteous fpirit Teacheth this proftrate and exterior bending. Heav'n witnefs with me, when I here came in, And found no course of breath within your Majesty, How cold it ftruck my heart! If I do feign, O let me in my prefent wildnefs die,
And never live to fhew th' incredulous world
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