some, crying for a surgeon; some, upon their wives left poor behind them; some, upon the debts they owe; some, upon their children rawly* left. I am afeard there are few die well, that die in battle; for how can they charitably dispose of any thing, when blood is their argument? Now if these men do not die well, it will be a black matter for the king that led them to it; whom to disobey, were against all proportion of subjection. K. Hen. So, if a son, that is by his father sent about merchandise, do sinfully miscarry upon the sea, the imputation of his wickedness, by yourrule should be imposed upon his father that sent him: or if a servant under his master's command, transporting a sum of money, be assailed by robbers, and die in many irreconciled iniquities, you may call the business of the master the author of the servant's damnation. But this is not so: the king is not bound to answer the particular endings of his soldiers, the father of his son, nor the master of his servant; for they purpose not their death, when they purpose their services. Besides, there is no king, be his cause never so spotless, if it come to the arbitrement of swords, can try it out with all unspotted soldiers. Some, peradventure, have on them the guilt of premeditated and contrived murder: some, of beguiling virgins with the broken seals of perjury: some, making the wars their bulwark, that have before gored the gentle bosom of peace with pillage and robbery. Now, if these men have defeated the law, and outran native punishment, though they can outstrip men, they have no wings to fly from God: war is his beadle, war is his vengeance; so that here men are punished, for before-breach of the king's laws, in now the king's quarrel; where they feared *Suddenly. ti. e. Punishment in their native couutry. the death, they have borne life away; and where they would be safe, they perish: then if they die unprovided, no more is the king guilty of their damnation, than he was before guilty of those impieties for the which they are now visited. Every subject's duty is the king's; but every subject's soul is his own. Therefore should every soldier in the wars do as every sick man in his bed, wash every mote out of his conscience and dying so, death is to him advantage; or not dying, the time was blessedly lost, wherein such preparation was gained; and, in him that escapes, it were not sin to think, that making God so free an offer, and let him outlive that day to see his greatness, and to teach others how they should prepare. Will. 'Tis certain, every man that dies ill, the ill is upon his own head, the king is not to answer for it. The Miseries of Royalty. O hard condition! twin-born with greatness, Subjected to the breath of every fool, Whose sense no more can feel but his own ringing! And what have kings, that privates have not too, Art thou aught else but place, degree, and form, Wherein thou art less happy being fear'd *"What is the real worth and intrinsic value of adoration !" Than they in fearing. What drink'st thou oft, instead of homage sweet, Think'st thou the fiery fever will go out. Will it give place to flexure and low bending? Can sleep so soundly as the wretched slave; Gets him to rest, cramm'd with distressful bread: Winding up days with toil, and nights with sleep, *Farced is stuffed. The tumid puffy titles with which a king's name is introduced. †The sun. Description of the miserable State of the Yon island carrions, desperate of their bones, King Henry's Speech before the Battle of He that outlives this day, and comes safe home, What feats he did that day; then shall our names, Warwick and Talbot, Salisbury and Gloster,- * Colours. + Ring. And with a feeble gripe, says,-Dear my lord, So did he turn, and over Suffolk's neck He threw his wounded arm, and kiss'd his lips; The pretty and sweet manner of it forced But all my mother came into mine eyes, ACT V. The Miseries of War. Her vine, the merry cheerer of the heart, Unpruned dies: her hedges even pleach'd, Like prisoners wildly over-grown with hair, Put forth disorder'd twigs: her fallow leas The darnel, hemlock, and rank fumitory, Doth root upon; while that the coulter* rusts, That should deracinatet such savagery: The even mead, that erst brought sweetly forth The freckled cowslip, burnet, and green clover, Wanting the scythe, all uncorrected, rank, Conceives by idleness: and nothing teems, But hateful docks, rough thistles, kecksies, burs, Losing both beauty and utility; And as our vineyards, fallows, meads, and hedges, Defective in their natures, grow to wildness. KING HENRY VI.-PART I. ACT I. Glory. GLORY is like a circle in the water, Till, by broad spreading, it disperse to nought. the roots. |