Call in the powers, good cousin Westmoreland.
[Erit WEST.
Now, Falstaff, where have you been all this while ?
When every thing is ended, then you come :
These tardy tricks of yours will, on my life,
One time or other break some gallows' back.

Fal. I would be sorry, my lord, but it should be thus; I never knew yet, but rebuke and check was the reward of valour. Do you think me a swallow, on arrow, or a bullet? have I, in my poor and old motion, the expedition of thought? I have speeded hither with the very extremest inch of possibility;

brother?

which environ it: makes it apprehensive, quick, | How chance, thou art not with the prince thy
forgetive, full of nimble, fiery and delectable
shapes; which deliver'd o'er to the voice, (the
tongue,) which is the birth, becomes excellent wit.
The second property of your excellent sherris is,
the warming of the blood; which, before cold and
settled, left the liver white and pale, which is the
badge of pusillanimity and cowardice: but the
sherris warms it and makes it course from the in-
wards to the parts extreme. It illumineth the face;
which, as a beacon, gives warning to all the rest of
this little kingdom, man, to arm: and then the vital
commoners, and inland petty spirits, muster me all
to their captain, the heart; who, great, and puffed
up with this retinue, doth any deed of courage;
and this valour comes of sherris: So that skill in
the weapon is nothing without sack; for that sets
it a-work and learning a mere hoard of gold kept
by a devil; till sack commences it, and sets it in
Hereof comes it, that prince Harry
is valiant: for the cold blood he did naturally in-
berit of his father, he hath, like lean, steril, and
bare land, manured, husbanded, and tilled, with
excellent endeavour of drinking good, and good
store of fertile sherris; that he is become very hot,
and valiant. If I had a thousand sons, the first
buman principle I would teach them, should be,
to forswear thin potations, and addict themselves to
sack.

He loves thee, and thou dost neglect him, Thomas;
Thou hast a better place in his affection,
Than all thy brothers: cherish it, my boy;
And noble offices thou may'st effect
Of mediation, after I am dead,
Between his greatness and thy other brethren :-
Therefore, omit him not; blunt not his love:
Nor lose the good advantage of his grace,
By seeming cold, or careless of his will.
For he is gracious, if he be observ'd;
He hath a tear for pity, and a hand
Open as day for melting charity :
Yet notwithstanding, being incens'd, he's flint ;
As humorous as winter, and as sudden
As flaws congealed in the spring of day.
His temper, therefore, must be well observ'd:
Chide him for faults, and do it reverently,
When you perceive his blood inclin'd to mirth :
But, being moody, give him line and scope;
Till that his passions, like a whale on ground,
Confound themselves with working.

act and use.

Enter KING HENRY, CLARENCE, PRINCE
HUMPHREY, WARWICK, and others.

K. Hen. Now, lords, if heaven doth give suc-
cessful end

To this debate that bleedeth at our doors,
We will our youth lead on to higher fields,
And draw no swords but what are sanctified.
Our navy is address'd, our power collected,
Our substitutes in absence well invested,
And every thing lies level to our wish:
Only, we want a little personal strength;
And pause us, till these rebels, now afoot,
Come underneath the yoke of government.
War. Both which, we doubt not but your majesty
Shall soon enjoy.

K. Hen.

Humphrey, my son of Gloster, Where is the prince your brother?

P. Humph. I think, he's gone to hunt, my lord, at Windsor.

K. Hen. And how accompanied?

P. Humph.
I do not know, my lord.
K. Hen. Is not his brother, Thomas of Clarence,
with him?

P. Humph. No, my good lord; he is in presence
here.

Cla. What would my lord and father?

Thomas,

Learn this,

And thou shalt prove a shelter to thy friends;
A hoop of gold, to bind thy brothers in;
That the united vessel of their blood,
Mingled with venom of suggestion,
(As, force perforce, the age will pour it in,)
Shall never leak, though it do work as strong
As aconitum, or rash gunpowder.

Cla. I shall observe him with all care and love.
K. Hen. Why art thou not at Windsor with him,
Thomas?

Cla. He is not there to-day; he dines in London.
K. Hen. And how accompanied? can'st thou tell
that?

Cla. With Poins, and other his continual followers.

K. Hen. Most subject is the fattest soil to weeds;
And he, the noble image of my youth,

Is overspread with them: Therefore my grief
Stretches itself beyond the hour of death;
The blood weeps from my heart, when I do shape,
In forms imaginary, the unguided days,
And rotten times, that you shall look upon
When I am sleeping with my ancestors.
For when his headstrong riot hath no curb,
When rage and hot blood are his counsellors,
When means and lavish manners meet together,
O, with what wings shall his affections fly
Towards fronting peril and oppos'd decay!

War. My gracious lord, you look beyond him
quite:

The prince but studies his companions,
Like a strange tongue: wherein, to gain the lan-
guage,

'Tis needful, that the most immodest word

Be look'd upon, and learn'd: which once attain'd,
Your highness knows, comes to no further use,

But to be known, and hated. So, like gross terms,

The prince will, in the perfectness of time,
Cast off his followers: and their memory
Shall as a pattern or a measure live,

By which his grace must mete the lives of others;
Turning past evils to advantages.

K. Hen. 'Tis seldom, when the bee doth leave
her comb

K. Hen. Nothing but well to thee, Thomas of In the dead carrion.

Who's here? Westmore

Scam IV.

KING HENRY IV.

P. Humph. He came not through the chamber | where we stay'd.

I. 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 : — seek him out.

Is he so hasty, that he doth suppose

My sleep my death?

go,

Find him, my lord of Warwick; chide him hither. [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

What! canst thou not forbear me half an hour?
To stab at half an hour of my life.
Then get thee gone; and dig my grave thyself;
And bid the merry bells ring to thine ear,
Let all the tears that should bedew my hearse,
That thou art crowned, not that I am dead,
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;
Up, vanity'
For now a time is come to mock at form,
Harry the fifth is crown'd: -
Down, royal state! all you sage counsellors, hence!
And to the English court assemble now,
From every region, apes of idleness!

Now, neighbour confines, purge you of your scum:
Have you a ruffian, that will swear, drink, dance,
Revel the night; rob, murder, and commit

Have broke their sleep with thoughts, their brains The oldest sins the newest kind of ways?

with care,

Their bones with industry,

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 engrossments to the ending father. –

Re-enter WARWICK,

Now, where is he that will not stay so long
Till his friend sickness hath determin'd me?
War. My lord, I found the prince in the

room,

next

Be happy, he will trouble you no more;
England shall double gild his treble gilt:
England shall give him office, honour, might:
For the fifth Harry from curb'd licence plucks
The muzzle of restraint, and the wild dog
Shall flesh his tooth in every innocent.

O my poor kingdom, sick with civil blows!
When that my care could not withhold thy riots,
O, thou wilt be a wilderness again,
What wilt thou do, when riot is thy care?
Peopled with wolves, thy old inhabitants!

P. Hen. O, pardon me, my liege! but for my
[Kneeling.

tears,

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,
Long guard it yours! If I affect it more,
Than as your honour, and as your renown,
Let me no more from this obedience rise,
(Which my most true and inward duteous spirit
Teacheth,) this prostrate and exterior bending!
Heaven witness with me, when I here came in
And found no course of breath within your majesty,
How cold it struck my heart! If I do feign,
O, let me in my present wildness die;
And never live to show the incredulous world
Come hither to me, The noble change that I have purposed!

Washing with kindly tears his gentle cheeks;
With such a deep demeanour in great sorrow,
That tyranny, which never quaff'd but blood,
Would, by beholding him, have wash'd his knife
With gentle eye-drops. He is coming hither.
K. Hen. But wherefore did he take away the
crown?

Re-enter PRINCE HENRY.

Lo, where he comes,

Harry:

Depart the chamber, leave us here alone.
[Exeunt CLARENCE, PRINCE HUMPHREY,
Lords, &c.

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 honours
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,
Were thine without offence; and, at my death,
Thou hast seal'd up my expectation:
Thy life did manifest, thou lov'dst me not,
And thou wilt have me die assur'd of it.
Thou hid'st a thousand daggers in thy thoughts;
Which thou hast whetted on thy stony heart,

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 depending,
Hath fed upon the body of my father;
Other, less fine in carat, is more precious,
Therefore, thou, best of gold, art worst of gold.
Preserving life in med'cine potable:

But thou, most fine, most honour'd, most renown'd,
Hast eat thy bearer up. Thus, my most royal liege,
Accusing it, I put it on my head;

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 purchas'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 I, 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 call'd 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 | needs be had: - And, sir, do you mean to stop any

House.

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.

Davy. Doth the man of war stay all night, sir? 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 worship truly,