Duch. A god on earth thou art.
Boling. But for our trusty brother-in-law,
and the abbot,

A generation of still-breeding thoughts,
And these same thoughts people this little
world;*

In humours, like the people of this world,
For no thought is contented. The better
sort,-

As thoughts of things divine, -are intermix'd
With scruples, and do set the word itself
Against the word :

As thus, Come little ones; and then again,-
It is as hard to come, as for a camel

To thread the posternt of a needle's eye.
Thought tending to ambition, they do plot
Unlikely wonders: how these vain weak nails
May tear a passage through the flinty ribs
Of this hard world, my ragged prison walls;
And, for they cannot, die in their own pride.
Thoughts tending to content, flatter them-
selves,-

That they are not the first of fortune's slaves,
Nor shall not be the last; like silly beggars,
Who, sitting in the stocks refuge their

shame,

That many have, and others must sit there:
And in this thought they find a kind of ease,
Bearing their own misfortune on the back
Of such as have before endur'd the like,
Thus play I, in one person, many people,
And none contented: Sometimes am I king;

With all the rest of that consorted crew, -
Destruction straight shall dog them at the Then treason makes me wish myself a beggar,

heels.

words he spake?

Exton. Didst thou not mark the king, what Have I no friend will rid me of this living fear?

Was it not so?

Serv. Those were his very words.

Exton. Have I no friend? quoth he: he spake

it twice,

And so I am: Then crushing penury
Persuades me I was better when a king;
Then am I king'd again: and, by-and-by,
Think that I am unking'd by Bolingbroke,
And straight am nothing: But, whate'er
Nor I, nor any man, that but man is, [I am,
With nothing shall be pleas'd, till he be eas'd
With being nothing.-Music do
pleas I hear?

[Music.
Ha, ha! keep time: How sour sweet mu-
sic is,
When time is broke, and no proportion kept!
So is it in the music of men's lives.
And here have I the daintiness of ear,
To check time broke in a disorder'd string;

they jars

But, for the concord of my state and time, Had not an ear to hear my true time broke. I wasted time, and now doth time waste me. For now hath time made me his numb'ring clock: My thoughts are minutes; and, with sighs, Their watches on to mine eyes, the outward watch, Exton. And, speaking it, he wistfully look'd Whereto my finger, like a dial's point, [man Is pointing still, in cleansing them from tears. As who should say, I would, thou wert the Now, Sir, the sound, that tells what hour it is, That would divorce this terror from my heart; Are clamorous groans, that strike upon my Meaning, the king at Pomfret. Come, let's

And urg'd it twice together; did he not?
Serv. He did.

on me;

go;

heart,

I am the king's friend, and will rid his foe. Which is the bell: So sighs, and tears, and

[Exeunt. SCENE V.-Pomfret.-The Dungeon of the

Castle.

Enter King RICHARD.

K. Rich. I have been studying how I may
compare
This prison, where I live, unto the world:
And, for because the world is populous,
And here is not a creature but myself,
I cannot do it;-Yet I'll hammer it out.
My brain I'll prove the female to my soul;
My soul, the father: and these two beget

Show minutes, times, and hours:-but my
time
Runs posting on in Bolingbroke's proud joy,
While I stand fooling here, his Jack o'the
clock.||
This music mads me, let it sound no more;
For, though it have holpe madmen to theit
wits,

In me, it seems it will make wise men mad.
Yet blessing on his heart that gives it me!
For 'tis a sign of love; and love to Richard
Is a strange brooch in this all-hating world.

Enter KEEPER, with a Dish.

Keep. Fellow, give place; here is no longer stay. [To the GROOM. K. Rich. If thou love me, 'tis time thou wert away. Groom. What my tongue dares not, that my heart shall say. [Exit. Keep. My lord, will't please you to fall to? K. Rich. Taste of it first, as thou art wont to do.

Keep. My lord, I dare not; Sir Pierce of Exton, who

Lately came from the king, commands the

K. Rich. The devil take Henry of Lancaster,

[Beats the KEEPER.

That hand shall burn in never-quenching fire, That staggers thus my person.-Exton, thy

Young Harry Percy, and brave Archibald,
That ever-valiant and approved Scot,
At Holmedon met,

Where they did spend a sad and bloody hour;
As by discharge of their artillery,

And shape of likelihood, the news was told;
For he that brought them, in the very heat
And pride of their contention did take horse,
Uncertain of the issue any way.

K. Hen. Here is a dear and true-industrious
friend,

Sir Walter Blunt, new lighted from his horse,
Stain'd with the variation of each soil
Betwixt that Holmedon and this seat of ours;
And he hath brought us smooth and welcome
The earl of Douglas is discomfited;
[news.
Ten thousand bold Scots, two-and-twenty

knights,

Balk'dt in their own blood, did Sir Walter see
On Holmedon's plains: Of prisoners, Hotspur
Mordake the earl of Fife, and eldest son [took
To beaten Douglas; and the earls of Athol,
Of Murray, Angus, and Menteith.
And is not this an honourable spoil?
A gallant prize? ha, cousin, is it not?
West. In faith,

It is a conquest for a prince to boast of.

devil hast thou to do with the time of the day? unless hours were cups of sack, and minutes capons, and clocks the tongues of bawds, and dials of signs of leaping-houses, and the blessed sun himself a fair hot wench in flame-colour'd taffata; I see no reason, why thou should'st be so superfluous to demand the time of the day.

Fal. Indeed, you come near me, now, Hal: for we, that take purses, go by the moon and seven stars; and not by Phœbus,-he, that wandering knight so fair. And, I pray thee, sweet wag, when thou art king, -as, God save thy grace, (majesty, I should say; for grace thou wilt have none,)

P. Hen. What, none?

Fal. No, by my troth; not so much as will serve to be prologue to an egg and butter. P. Hen. Well, how then? come, roundly, roundly.

Fal. Marry, then, sweet wag, when thou art king, let not us, that are squires of the night's body, be called thieves of the day's beauty; let us be-Diana's foresters, gentlemen of the shade, minions of the moon: And let men say, we be men of good government : being governed as the sea is, by our noble and chaste mistress

K. Hen. Yea, there thou mak'st me sad, and the moon, under whose countenance wemak'st me sin

In envy that my lord Northumberland
Should be the father of so blest a son:

A son, who is the theme of honour's tongue;
Amongst a grove, the very straightest plant;
Who is sweet fortune's minion, and her pride:
Whilst I, by looking on the praise of him,

See riot and dishonour stain the brow [prov'd,
Of my young Harry. O, that it could be
That some night-tripping fairy had exchang'd
In cradle-clothes our children where they lay,
And call'd mine-Percy, his-Plantagenet!
Then would I have his Harry, and he mine.
But let him from my thoughts:-What think
you coz',

Of this young Percy's pride? the prisoners,
Which he in this adventure hath surpriz'd,
To his own use he keeps; and sends me word,
I shall have none but Mordake earl of Fife.

West. This is his uncle's teaching, this is

Worcester,
Malevolent to you in all

Which makes him I aspects;
prunes himself, and bristle
The crest of youth against your dignity. [up
K. Hen. But I have sent for him to answer

this;

And, for this cause, awhile we must neglect
Our holy purpose to Jerusalem.

Cousin, on Wednesday next our council we
Will hold at Windsor, so inform the lords:
But come yourself with speed to us again;
For more is to be said, and to be done,
Than out of anger can be uttered.

West. I will, my liege.

[Exeunt.

SCENE II.-The same. Another Room in the Palace.

Enter HENRY Prince of Wales, and FALSTAFF. Fal. Now, Hal, what time of day is it, lad? P. Hen. Thou art so fat-witted, with drinking of old sack, and unbuttoning thee after supper, and sleeping upon benches after noon,

that thou hast forgotten to demand that truly which thou would'st truly know. What the

* Covered with dirt of different colours. Piluci up in a heap.

‡ Points. Trim, as birds clean their feathers,

steal.

P. Hen. Thou say'st well; and it holds well too: for the fortune of us, that are the moon's men, doth ebb and flow like the sea; being governed as the sea is, by the moon. As, for proof, now: A purse of gold most resolutely snatched on Monday night, and most dissolutely spent on Tuesday morning; got with swearing-lay by;t and spent with cryingbring in: now, in as low an ebb as the foot of the ladder: and, by and by, in as high a flow as the ridge of the gallows.

Fal. By the Lord, thou say'st true, lad. And is not my hostess of the tavern a most sweet wench?

P. Hen. As the honey of Hybla, my old lad of the castle. And is not a buff jerkiu a most sweet robe of durance?§

Fal. How now, how now, mad wag? what, in thy quips, and thy quiddities? what a plague have I to do with a buff jerkin?

P. Hen. Why, what a pox have I to do with my hostess of the tavern?

Fal. Well, thou hast called her to a reckoning, many a time and oft.

P. Hen. Did I ever call for thee to pay thy part?

Fal. No; I'll give thee thy due, thou hast paid all there.

P. Hen. Yea, and elsewhere, so far as my coin would stretch; and, where it would not, I have used my credit.

Fal. Yea, and so used it, that were it not here apparent that thou art heir apparent, But, I pr'ythee, sweet wag, shall there be gallows standing in England when thou art king? and resolution thus fobbed as it is, with the rusty crub of old father antic the law? Do not thou, when thou art king, hang a thief.

P. Hen. No; thou shalt.

Fal. Shall I? O rare! By the Lord, I'll be a

brave judge.
thou shalt have the hanging of the thieves, and
P. Hen. Thou judgest false already; I mean,
so become a rare hangman.

Fal. Well, Hal, well; and in some sort it

* Favourites. + Stand still. † More wine.
The dress of Sheriff's officers.