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And so success of mischief shall be born; And, good my lord, so please you, let our trains And heir from heir shall hold this quarrel up, March by us; that we may peruse the men Whiles England shall have generation.

We should have cop'd withal. P. John. You are too shallow, Hastings, much Arch. Go, good lord Hastings, too shallow,

And, ere they be dismiss’d, let them march by. To sound the bottom of the after-times.

[Erit Hastings. West. Pleaseth your grace, to answer them P. John. I trust, my lords, we shall lie to directly,

night together.How far-forth you do like their articles ? P. John. I like them all, and do allow them

Re-enter WESTMORELAND. well :

Now, cousin, wherefore stands our army still? And swear here, by the honour of my blood, West. The leaders, having charge from you to My father's purposes have been mistook ;

stand, And soine about him have too lavishly

Will not go off until they hear you speak. Wrested his meaning and authority:

P. John, They know their duties. My lord, these griefs shall be with speed redress’d;

Re-enter Hastings. Upon my soul they shall. If this may please you, Discharge your powers into their several counties, Hast. My lord, our army is dispers'd already: As we will ours : and here, between the armies, Like youthful steers unyok'd, they take their Let's drink together friendly, and embrace; That all their eyes may bear those tokens home, East, west, north, south; or, like a school broke Of our restored love, and amity.

up, Arch. I take your princely word for these re- Each hurries toward his home, and sporting-place. dresses,

West. Good tidings, my lord Hastings; for P. John. I give it you, and will maintain my the which word :

I do arrest thee, traitor, of high treason :And thereupon I drink unto your grace. And you, lord archbishop,--and you, lord More Hast. Go, captain, [To an Officer. ] and de- bray, liver to the army

Of capital treason I attach you both. This news of peace; let them have pay, and part: Mowb. Is this proceeding justand honourable! I know, it will well please them ; Hie thee, cap- West. Is your assembly so? tain.

[Exit Officer. Arch. Will you thus break your faith? Arch. To you, my noble lord of Westinore- P. John. I pawn'd thee none: land.

I promis'd you redress of these same grievances, West. I pledge your grace: And, if you knew Whereof you did complain ; which, by mine what pains

honour, I have bestow'd, to breed this present peace, I will perform with a most christian care. You would drink freely : but my love to you But, for you, rebels,-look to taste the due Shall show itself more openly hereafter.

Meet for rebellion, and such acts as yours. Arch. I do not doubt you.

Most shallowly did you these arms commence, West. I am glad of it.

Fondly brought here, and foolishly sent henceHealth to my lord, and gentle cousin, Mowbray. Strike up our drums, pursue the scatter'd stray; Mowb. You wish me health in very happy Heaven, and not we, have safely fought to-dayseason ;

Some guard these traitors to the block of death; For I am, on the sudden, something ill. Treason's true bed, and yielder up of breath. Arch, Against ill chances, men are ever merry;

[Exeunt. But heayiness foreruns the good event.

It'est. Therefore be merry, coz; since sudden SCENE III.-Another part of the forest. Serves to say thus --Some good thing comes to- Alarums. Excursions. Enter Falstaff, and

COLEVILE, meeting. Arch. Believe me, I am passing light in spirit. Fal, What's your name, sir of what condiMlowh. So much the worse, if your own rule tion are you ; and of what place, I pray? be true.

[Shouts within Cole. I am a knight, sir ; and my name is P. John. The word of peace is render'd : Hark, Colevile of the dale. how they shout!

Fal. Well then, Colevile is your name; a Mowb. This had been cheerful, after victory. knight is your degree, and your place, the

Arch. A peace is of the nature of a conquest ; dale: Colevile shall still be your name; a traiFor then both parties nobly are subdued, tor your degree ; and the dungeon your place,And neither party loser.

a place deep enough ; so shall you still be ColeP. John. Go, my lord,

vile of the dale. And let our army be discharged too.

Cole. Are not you sir John Falstaff? [Exit Westmoreland. Fal. As good a man as he, sir, whoe'er I am.

sorrow

morrow.

sure.

Do ye yield, sir? or shall I sweat for you? If I Fal. I know not how they sold themselves: do sweat, they are drops of thy lovers, and they but thou, like a kind fellow, gavest thyself weep for thy death: therefore rouse up fear and away, and I thank thee for thee. trembling, and do observance to my mercy,

Re-enter WESTMORELAND. Cole. I think, you are sir John Falstaff; and, in that thought, yield me.

P. John. Now, have you left pursuit ? Fal. I have a whole school of tongues in this West. Retreat is made, and execution stay'd. belly of mine ; and not a tongue of them all P. John. Send Colevile, with his confederates, speaks any other word but my name. An I had | To York, to present execution :but a belly of any indifferency, I were simply | Blunt, lead him hence; and see you guard him the most active fellow in Europe : My womb,

[Exeunt some with Colevile. my womb, my womb undoes me.—Here comes And now despatch we toward the court, my lords; our general.

I lear, the king my father is sore sick:

Our news shall go before us to his majesty,– Enter Prince Joan of Lancaster, WESTMOREWhich, cousin, you shall bear,--to comfort him; LAND, and Others.

And we with sober speed will follow you. P.John. The heatispast, follow nofurther now: Fal. My lord, I beseech you, give me leave Call in the powers, good cousin Westinoreland.- to go through Glostershire: and, when you come

[Exit Westmoreland. to court, stand my good lord, 'pray, in your good Now, Falstaff, where have you been all this while? report. When every thing is ended, then you come: P. John. Fare you well, Falstaff: I, in my These tardy tricks of yours will, on my life,

condition, One time or other break some gallows' back. Shall better speak of you than you deserve. [Erit.

Fal. I would be sorry, my lord, but it should Fal. I would, you had but the wit ; 'twere be thus; I never knew yet, but rebuke and better than your dukedom.-Good faith, this check was the reward of valour. Do you think same young sober-blooded boy doth not love me a swallow, an arrow, or a bullet? Have I, in me; nor a man cannot make him laugh ;-but my poor and old motion, the expedition of that's no marvel, he drinks no wine. There's thought? I have speeded hither with the very never any of these demure boys come to any extremnest inch of possibility ; I have foundered proof: for thin drink doth so over-cool their nine score and odd posts: and here, travel blood, and making many fish-meals, that they tainted as I am, have, in my pure and immacu- fall into a kind of male green-sickness; and late valour, taken sir John Colevile of the dale, then, when they marry, they get wenches : a most furious knight, and valorous enemy : they are generally fools and cowards ;-which But what of that ? he saw me, and yielded; some of us should be too, but for inflammation. that I may justly say, with the hook-nosed fel- A good slierris-sack hath a two-fold operation low of Rome, -I came, saw, and overcame. in it. It ascends me into the brain ; dries me

P. John. It was more of his courtesy than there all the foolish, and dull, and crudy vayour deserving.

pours, which environ it: makes it apprehensive, Fal. I know not; here he is, and here I yield quick, forgetive, full of nimble, fiery, and dehim: and I beseech your grace, let it be booked lectable shapes; which deliver'd o'er to the with the rest of this day's deeds; or, by the voice, (the tongue,) which is the birth, belord, I will have it in a particular ballad else, comes excellent wit. The second property of with mine own picture on the top of it, Colevile your excellent sherris is,--the warming of the kissing my foot : To the which course if I be blood; which, before cold and settled, left the enforced, if you do not all show like gilt two- liver white and pale, which is the badge of pupences to me; and I, in the clear sky of fame, sillanimity and cowardice: but the sherris warms o'ershine you as much as the full moon doth the it, and makes it course from the inwards to the cinders of the element, which show like pins' parts extreme. It illumineth the face ; which, heads to her ; believe not the word of the noble: as a beacon, gives warning to all the rest of this Therefore let me have right, and let desert mount. little kingdom, man, to arm : and then the vital

P. John, Thine's too heavy to mount. commoners, and inland petty spirits, muster me Ful. Let it shine then.

all to their captain, the heart ; who, great, and P. John. Thine's too thick to shine.

puffed up with this retinue, doth any deed of Fal. Let it do something, my good lord, that courage ; and this valour comes of sherris: So may do me good, and call it what

you

will. that skill in the weapon is nothing without sack; P. John. Is thy name Colevile ?

for that sets it a-work: and learning, a mere Cole. It is, my lord.

hoard of gold kept by a devil ; till sack comP. John. A famous rebel art thou, Colevile. mences it, and sets it in act and use. Hereof Fal. And a famous true subject took him. comes it, that prince Harry is valiant; for the Cole. I am, my lord, but as my betters are, cold blood he did naturally inherit of his father, That led ine hither : had they been rul'd by me, he hath, like lean, steril, and bare land, manuYou should have won them dearer than you have. I red, husbanded, and tilled, with excellent en

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deavour of drinking good, and good store of fer- | As flaws congealed in the spring of day. tile sherris ; that he is become very hot, and va- His temper, Therefore, must be well observ'd: liant. If I had a thousand sons, the first human Chide him for faults, and do it reverently, principle I would teach them, should be,--to When you perceive his blood inclin’d to mirth: forswear thin potations, and addict themselves But, being moody, give him line and scope ; to sack.

Till that his passions, like a whale on ground,

Confound themselves with working. Learn this, Enter BARDOLPH.

Thomas, How now, Bardolph?

And thou shalt prove a shelter to thy friends ; Bard. The arıny is discharged all, and gone. A hoop of gold, to bind thy brothers in ;

Fal. Let them go. I'll through Glostershire; That the united vessel of their blood, and there will I visit master Robert Shallow, Mingled with venom of suggestion, esquire: I have him already tempering between (As, force perforce, the age

will pour

it in,) my finger and my thumb, and shortly will I Shall never leak, though it do work as strong seal with him. Come away. [ Exeunt. As aconitum, or rash gunpowder.

Cla. I shall observe him with all care and love. SCENE IV.-Westminster. Aroom in the palace. K. Hen. Why art thou not at Windsor with

him, Thomas ? Enter King HENRY, CLARENCE, Prince Hum

Cla. He is not there to-day; hedlines in London. PHREY, WARWICK, and Others.

K. Hen. And how accompanied ? can’st thou K. Hen. Now, lords, if heaven doth give suc- tell that? cessful end

Cla. With Poins, and other his continual folTo this debate, that bleedeth at our doors,

lowers. We will our youth lead on to higher fields, K. Hen. Most subject is the fattest soil to And draw no swords but what are sanctified.

weeds; Our navy is address'd, our power collected, And he, the noble image of my youth, Our substitutes in absence well invested, Is overspread with them : Therefore my grief And every thing lies level to our wish : Stretches itself beyond the hour of death; Only, we want a little personal strength; The blood weeps from iny heart, when I do shape, And pause us, till these rebels, now afoot, In forms imaginary, the unguided days, Come underneath the yoke of government. And rotten times, that you shall look upon War. Both which, we doubt not but your When I ain skeeping with my ancestors. majesty

For when his headstrong riot hath no curb, Shall soon enjoy.

When rage and hot blood are his counsellors, K. Hen. Humphrey, my son of Gloster, When means and lavish manners meet cogether, Where is the prince your

brother?

0, with what wings shall his affections fly, P. Jiumph. I think, he's gone to hunt, my Towards fronting peril and oppos'd decay ! lord, at Windsor.

War. My gracious lord, you look beyond him K. Ilen. And how accompanied ?

quite : P. Humph. I do not know, my lord.

The prince but studies his companions, K. Hen. Is not his brother, Thomas of Cla- Like a strange tongue : wherein, to gain the rence, with him ?

language, P. Humph. No, my good lord; he is in pre- 'Tis needful, that the most immodest word sence here.

Be look'd upon, and learn'd: which once attain'd, Cla. What would my lord and father? Your highness knows, comes to no further use, K. Hen. Nothing but well to thee, Thomas But to be known, and hated. So, like gross terms, of Clarence.

The prince will, in the perfectness of time, How chanee, thou art not with the prince thy Cast off his followers: and their memory brother?

Shall as a pattern or a measure live, He loves thee, and thoudost neglect him, Thomas; By which leis grace must mete the lives of others; Thou hast a better place in his affection, Turning past evils to advantages. Than all thy brothers : cherish it, my boy ; K. Hon. 'Tis seldom, when the bee doth leave And noble offices thou may'st effect

ber comb Of mediation, after I am dead,

In the dead carrion.-Who's here? Westmora Between his greatness and thy other brethren:

land ? Therefore, omit himn not ; blunt not his love : Nor lose the good advantage of his grace,

Enter WESTMORELAND, By seeming cold, or careless of his will.

West. Health to my sovereign! and new hapFor he is gracious, if he be obsery'd;

piness He hath a tear for pity, and a hand

Added to that, that I am to deliver !
Opel as day for melting charity:

Prince John, your son, doth kiss your grace's
Yet notwithstanding, being incens'd, he's flint; hand :
As humorous as winter, and as sudden Mowbray, the bishop Scroop, Hastings, and 2.1,

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Are brought to the correction of your law; K. Hen. I pray you, take me ūp, and bear me There is not now a rebel's sword'unsheath'd,

hence But peace puts forth her olive every where. Into some other chamber : softly, 'pray, The manner how this action hath been borne, [They convey the King into an inner part of Here at more leisure may your highness read ; the room, and place him on a bed. With every course, in his particular.

Let there be no noise made, my gentle friends ; R. Hen.' Westmoreland, thou art a summer Unless some dull and favourable hand bird,

Will whisper music to my weary spirit. Which ever in the haunch of winter sings Wur. Call for the music in the other room. The lifting up of day. Look! here's more news. K. Hen. Set me the crown upon my pillow here.

Cla. His eye is hollow, and he changes much. Enter HARCOURT,

War. Less noise, less noise. Har. From enemies heaven keep your majesty;

Enter Prince Henry. And, when they stand against you, may they fall P. Hen. Who saw the duke of Clarence ? As those that I am come to tell you of !

Cla. I am here, brother, full of heaviness. The earl of Northumberland, and the lord Bar- P. Hen. How now! rain within doors, and dolph,

none abroad! With a great power of English, and of Scots, How doth the king ? Are by the sheriff of Yorkshire overthrown:

Humph. Exceedingly ill. The manner and true order of the fight,

P. Hen. Heard he the good news yet? This packet, please it you, contains at large. Tell it him. K. Hen. And wherefore should these good P. Humph. Healter'd much upon the hearingit. news make me sick ?

P. Hen. If he be sick Will fortune never come with both hands full, With joy, he will recover without physic. But write her fair words still in foulest letters ? Wur. Not so much noise, my lords :-sweet She either gives a stomach, and no food,

prince, speak low; Such are the poor, in health ; or else a feast, The king your father is dispos’d to sleep. And takes away the stomach, -such are the rich, Cla. Let us withdraw into the other room, T'hat have abundance, and enjoy it not.

War. Will't please your grace to go along with I should rejoice now at this happy news;

us? And now my sight fails, and my brain is giddy :- P. Hen. No; I will sit and watch here by the O me! come near me, now I am much ill.

king: [Exeunt all but P. Henry,

[Swoons. Why doth the crown lie there upon his pillow, P. Humph. Comfort, your majesty!

Being so troublesome a bedfellow? Cla. O iny royal father!

O polish'd perturbation ! golden care ! West. My sovereign lord, cheer up yourself, That keep'st the ports of slumber open wide look up!

To many a watchful night !-sleep with it now! Wur, Be patient, princes; you do know, these Yet not so sound, and half so deeply sweet, fits

As he, whose brow, with homely biggin bound, Are with his highness very ordinary:

Snores out the watch of night. O majesty! Stand from him, give him air ; he'll straight be When thou dost pinch thy bearer, thou dost sit well.

Like a rich armour, worn in heat of day, Cla. No, no'; he cannot long hold out these That scalls with safety. By his gates of breath pangs;

There lies a downy feather, which stirs not : The incessant care and labour of his mind, Did he suspire, that light and weightless down Hath wrought the mure, that should confine itin, Perforce must move. My gracious lord ! my So thin, that life looks through, and will break out. father P. Humph. The people fear me; for they do This sleep is sound indeed ; this is a sleep, observe

That froin this golden rigol hath divorc'd Unfather'd beirs, and loathly birds of nature: So inany English kings. Thy due, from me, The seasons change their manners, as the year Is tears, and heavy sorrows of the blood; Had found some months asleep, and leap'd them which nature, love, and filial tenderness,

Shall, O dear father, pay thee plenteonsly: Cla. The river hath thrice flow'd, no ebb be- My due, from thee, is this imperial crown; tween :

Which, as immediate from thy place and blood, And the old folk, time's doting chronicles, Derives itself to me. Lo, here it sits, Say, it did so, a little time before

[Putting it on his head. That our great grandsire, Edward, sick'd and died. Which heaven shall guard : And put the world's War. Speak lower, princes, for the king re- whole strength

Into one giant arm, it shall not force P. Humph. This apoplex will, certain, be his This lineal honour from me: This from thee enil.

Will I to mine leave, as 'tis left to me. [Exito

over.

covers.

you are!

K. Hen. Warwick! Gloster ! Clarence !

Re-enter Prince Henry.
Re-enter WARWICK, and the rest.

Lo, where he comes.

Come hither to me,

Harry : Cla. Doth the king call ?

Depart the chamber, leave us here alone. Wur. What would your majesty ? How fares

[Exeunt Clarence, Prince Humphrey, your grace?

Lords, &c. K. Hen. Why did you leave me here alone, my P. Hen. I never thought to hear you speak again. lords?

K. Hen. Thy wish was father, Harry, to that Cla. We left the prince my brother here, my thought : liege,

I stay too long by thee, I weary thee. Who undertook to sit and watch by you. Dost thou so hunger for my empty chair, K. Hen. The prince of Wales? Where is he? That thou wilt needs invest thee with mine let me see him :

honours, He is not here.

Before thy hour be ripe? O foolish youth! War. This door is open ; he is gone this way. Thou seek'st the greatness that will overwhelm P. Humph. He came not through the chamber thee. where we stay'

Stay but a little ; for my cloud of dignity K. Hen. Where is the crown? who took it Is held from falling with so weak a wind, from my pillow?

That it will quickly drop: my day is dim. War. When we withdrew, my liege, we left Thou haststol'n that, which, after some few hours, it here.

Were thine without offence; and at my death, K. Hen. The prince hath ta’en it hence :--go, Thou hast seal'd up my expectation: seek him out.

Thy life did manifest, thou lov’dst me not, Is he so hasty, that he doth suppose

And thou wilt have me die assured of it. My sleep my death ?

Thou hid'st a thousand daggers in thy thoughts; Find him, my lord of Warwick : chide him hither. Which thou hast whetted on thy stony heart,

[Exit Warwick. To stab at half an hour of my life. This part of his conjoins with my disease, What! canst thou not forbear me half an hour? And helps to end me.-See, sons, what things Then get thee gone ; and dig my grave thyself;

And bid the merry bells ring to thipe ear, How quickly nature falls into revolt,

That thou art crowned, not that I am dead. When gold becomes her object !

Let all the tears, that should bedew my hearse, For this, the foolish over-careful fathers Be drops of balm, to sanctify thy head: Have broke their sleep with thoughts, their Only compound me with forgotten dust; brains with care,

Give that, which gave thee life, unto the worms Their bones with industry:

Pluck down my officers, break my decrees; For this, they have engrossed and pil'd up For now a time is come to mock at form, The canker'd heaps of strange achieved gold; Harry the fifth is crown'd:-Up, vanity For this, they have been thoughtful to invest Down, royal state ! all you sage counsellors, Their sons with arts, and martial exercises :

hence! When, like the bee, tolling from every flower And to the English court assemble now, The virtuous sweets ;

From every region, apes of idleness! Our thighs pack'd with wax, our mouths with Now, neighbour confines, purge you of your scum: honey,

Have you a ruffian, that will swcar, drink, dance, We bring it to the hive; and, like the bees, Revel the night; rob, murder, and commit Are inurder'd for our pains. This bitter taste The oldest sins the newest kind of ways? Yield his engrossments to the ending father. Be happy, he will trouble you no more:

England shall double gild his treble guilt: Re-enter. WARWICK.

England shall give him office, honour, might:

For the fifth Harry from curb'd licence plucks Now, where is he that will not stay so long The muzzle of restraint, and the wild dog Till his friend sickness hath deterinin'd me? Shall flesh his tooth in every innocent. Wur. My lord, I found the prince in the next O my poor kingdom, sick with civil blows! room,

When that my care could not withhold thy riots, Washing with kindly tears his gentle cheeks ; What wilt thou do, when riot is thy care? With such a deep demeanour in great sorrow,

0, thou wilt be a wilderness again, That tyranny, which never quaft'd but blood, Peopled with wolves, thy old inhabitants! Would, by beholding him, have wash'd his knife P. Hen. O, pardon me, my liege! but for my With gentle eye-drops. He is coming hither.

tears,

[Kneeling. K. Hen. But wherefore did he take away the The moist impediments unto my speech, crown?

I had forestalt'd this dear and deep rebuke,
Ere you with grief hiad spoke, and I had heard

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