He loves thee, and thou dost neglect him, Thomas; 20
Thou hast a better place in his affection,
Than all thy brothers: cherish it, my boy,
And noble offices thou mayst 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 observed:
He hath a tear for pity, and a hand
Open as day for melting charity :

25

30

Yet, notwithstanding, being incensed, he 's flint;
As humorous as winter, and as sudden

As flaws congealèd in the spring of day.
His temper, therefore, must be well observed.

35

Clarence. I shall observe him with all care and love. King. Why art thou not at Windsor with him, Thomas ? Clarence. He is not there to-day; he dines in London. King. And how accompanied? canst thou tell that? Clarence. With Poins, and other his continual followers. King. Most subject is the fattest soil to weeds; 41 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, 45
In forms imaginary, the unguided days

And rotten times that you shall look upon,

When I am sleeping with my ancestors.

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

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.

Enter the Earl of Westmoreland.

King. Who's here? Westmoreland ?

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55

Westmoreland. Health to my sovereign, and new happiness

Added to that that I am to deliver!

[He kneels.

Mowbray, the bishop Scroop, Hastings, and all,

Are brought to the correction of your law;
There is not now a rebel's sword unsheathed,
But peace puts forth her olive everywhere:
The manner how this action hath been borne,
Here at more leisure may your highness read,

With every course in his particular.

бо

[He gives a packet.

King. O Westmoreland, thou art a summer bird, 65 Which ever in the haunch of winter sings

The lifting up of day. Look, here's more news.

Enter Harcourt.

70

Harcourt. From enemies heaven keep your majesty; And, when they stand against you, may they fall As those that I am come to tell you of! The Earl Northumberland and the Lord Bardolph, With a great power of English and of Scots, Are by the sheriff of Yorkshire overthrown: The manner and true order of the fight, This packet, please it you, contains at large.

75

[He kneels and delivers it. King. And wherefore should these good news make me

sick?

Will Fortune never come with both hands full?
She either gives a stomach and no food,—
Such are the poor, in health; or else a feast,
And takes away the stomach, such are the rich,
That have abundance, and enjoy it not.
I should rejoice now at this happy news;
And now my sight fails, and my brain is giddy:
O me! come near me; now I am much ill.

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85

[He swoons. Prince Humphrey. Comfort, your majesty ! Clarence [taking the crown off]. O my royal father! Westmoreland. My sovereign lord, cheer up yourself, look up.

Warwick. Be patient, princes; you do know these fits Are with his highness very ordinary.

Stand from him, give him air; he'll straight be well.
Clarence. No, no, he cannot long hold out these pangs :
The incessant care and labour of his mind
Hath wrought the mure, that should confine it in,
So thin that life looks through and will break out.

91

Clarence. The river hath thrice flowed, no ebb between ; And the old folk, time's doting chronicles,

Say it did so a little time before

95

That our great grandsire, Edward, sicked and died. Warwick. Speak lower, princes, for the King recovers. Prince Humphrey. This apoplexy will, certain, be his end. King. I pray you take me up, and bear me hence Into some other chamber: softly, pray.

ΙΟΙ

[The King is moved to another chamber (that is, to the 'Shadow' at the back of the stage) and placed upon a bed. Let there be no noise made, my gentle friends; Unless some dull and favourable hand

Will whisper music to my weary spirit.

Warwick. Call for the music in the other room. 105 [Exit one of the Courtiers. King. Set me the crown upon my pillow here. [Clarence puts the crown on the pillow. Clarence. His eye is hollow, and he changes much. [Music plays without.

Warwick. Less noise, less noise!

Enter Prince Henry, hurriedly.

Prince Henry. Who saw the Duke of Clarence ? Clarence. I am here, brother, full of heaviness. Prince Henry. How now! rain within doors, and none abroad!

How doth the King? Heard he the good news yet? Prince Humphrey. He altered much upon the hearing it.

114

Prince Henry. If he be sick with joy, he will recover Without physic. Warwick. Not so much noise, my lords :-sweet prince, speak low; [Points to the King: the Prince is startled at the change.

The King your father is disposed to sleep.

Clarence. Let us withdraw into the other room. Warwick. Will 't please your grace to go along with us? Prince Henry. No; I will sit and watch here by the King. [Exeunt all except Prince Henry. The Music ceases. He sits by the bedside. Why doth the crown lie there upon his pillow, Being so troublesome a bedfellow ? O polished perturbation! golden care!

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That keep'st the ports of slumber open wide
To many a watchful night! Sleep with it now!
Yet not so sound and half so deeply sweet,
As he whose brow with homely biggin bound
Snores out the watch of night. [He suddenly leans forward
watching the King closely.] By his gates of breath
There lies a downy feather, which stirs not:
Did he suspire, that light and weightless down
Perforce must move. My gracious lord! my father!
This sleep is sound indeed; this is a sleep
That from this golden rigol hath divorced
So many English kings. Thy due from me
Is tears and heavy sorrows of the blood,
Which nature, love, and filial tenderness
Shall, O dear father, pay thee plenteously:

My due from thee is this

Which, as immediate
Derives itself to me.

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[He kneels and kisses him. imperial crown, [He takes it from the pillow. from thy place and blood, Lo, here it sits,

Which God shall guard: strength

[Putting it on his head. and put the world's whole

Into one giant arm, it shall not force

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[Exit.

This lineal honour from me: this from thee
Will I to mine leave, as 'tis left to me.
King [waking]. Warwick! Gloucester! Clarence!

Re-enter Warwick and the rest hurriedly.

Clarence.

Doth the King call? Warwick. What would your majesty? How fares your grace?

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King. Why did you leave me here alone, my lords? Clarence. We left the Prince my brother here, my liege,

Who undertook to sit and watch by you.

King. The Prince of Wales! Where is he? let me see him:

He is not here.

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Warwick. This door is open; he is gone this way. Prince Humphrey. He came not through the chamber where we stayed.

King. Where is the crown? who took it from my pillow? Warwick. When we withdrew, my liege, we left it here. King. The Prince hath ta'en it hence: go, seek him out.

Is he so hasty, that he doth suppose

My sleep my death?

Find him, my Lord of Warwick; chide him hither.

155

[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 !

Re-enter Warwick.

161

Now, where is he that will not stay so long
Till his friend sickness hath determined me?

166

Warwick. My lord, I found the Prince in the next room,
Washing with kindly tears his gentle cheeks;
With such a deep demeanour in great sorrow,
That tyranny, which never quaffed but blood,
Would, by beholding him, have washed his knife
With gentle eye-drops. He is coming hither.
King. But wherefore did he take away the crown ?

Re-enter Prince Henry with the crown.
Lo, where he comes. Come hither to me, Harry.
Depart the chamber, leave us here alone.

170

[Exeunt Warwick and the rest. Prince Henry. I never thought to hear you speak again.

King. 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,

176

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 day is dim.

181

Thou hast stol'n that, which, after some few hours,

Were thine without offence; and at my death

Thou hast sealed up my expectatión :

Thy life did manifest thou lovedst me not,

185

And thou wilt have me die assured of it.