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There lies a downy feather which stirs not.
where it sits, Which God shall guard ; and put the world's
whole strength Into one giant arm, it shall not force This lineal honour from me. This from thee Will I to mine leave, as 't is left to me. (Erit.
King. Warwick Gloucester! Clarence ! Re-enter WARWICK, GLOUCESTER, CLARENCE
(and the rest). Clar. Doth the King call ? War. What would your Majesty ? (How
fares your Grace ?) King. Why did you leave me here alone, my
lords? Clar. 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.
War. This door is open ; he is gone this way. Glou. He came not through the chamber
where we stay'd. King. Where is the crown? Who took it
from my pillow ? War. 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.
(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 Have broke their sleep with thoughts, their
brains with care, Their bones with industry ; For this they have engrossed and pil'd up The cank'red 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 murd'red for our pains. This bitter taste Yields his engrossments to the ending father, 80
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
next room, Washing with kindly tears his gentle cheeks, With such a deep, demeanour in great sorrow $6 That Tyranny, which never quat'd but blood, Would, by beholding him, have wash'd his
knife With gentle eye-drops. He is coming hither. King. But wherefore did he take away the crown?
Re-enter PRINCE HENRY.
[Exeunt (Warwick and the rest). Prince. 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 mine 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 stolen 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, To stab at half an hour of my life. What! canst thou not forbear me half an
hour? Then get thee gone and dig my grave thyself, And bid the merry bells ring to thine ear That thou art crowned, not that I am dead. Let all the tears that should bedew my hearse 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; For now a time is come to mock at form. Harry the Fifth is crown'd! Up, vanity! 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,
England shall double gild his treble guilt,
riots, What wilt thou do when riot is thy carc? 0, thou wilt be a wilderness again, Peopled with wolves, thy old inhabitants ! Prince. O, pardon me, my liege! but for my
tears, The moist impediments unto my speech, I had forestal'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,
(Kneels.] Which my most inward, true, and duteous
spirit Teacheth, this prostrate and exterior bending. God witness with me, when I here came in, 150 And found no course of breath within your
Majesty, How cold it struck my heart! If I do feign, 0, let me in my present wildness die And never live to show the incredulous world The noble change that I have purposed ! Coming to look on you, thinking you dead, And dead almost, my liege, to think you were, I spake unto this crown as having sense, And thus upbraided it: “ The care on thee de
pending Hath fed upon the body of my father; Therefore, thou of gold art worst of gold. Other, less fine in carat, is more precious, Preserving life in medicine potable;, But thou, most fine, most honour'd, most re
nown'd, Hast eat thy bearer up." Thus, my most royal
liege, Accusing it, I put it on my head, To try with it, as with an enemy That had before my face murd'red my father, The quarrel of a true inheritor. But if it did infect my blood with joy, Or swell my thoughts to any strain of pride ; If any rebel or vain spirit of mine Did with the least affection of a welcome Give entertainment to the might of it, Let God for ever keep it from my head And make me as the poorest vassal is That doth with awe and terror kneel to it!
King. (O my son, God put it in thy mind to take it hence, That thou mightst 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, God knows, my son, By what by-paths and indirect crook'd ways 186 I met this crowor; and I myself know well
How troublesome it sat upon my head.
shed, 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 pur
chas'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 (my) 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 deni'd me. How I came by the crown, O God forgive; And grant it may with thee in true peace
live! Prince. (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 main
tain. Enter LORD JOHN OF LANCASTER and WAR
King. Look, look, here comes my John of
Lancaster. Lan. Health, peace, and happiness to my
royal father! King. 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
My Lord of Warwick ! King. Doth any name particular belong Unto the lodging where I first did swoon?
W'ar. 'Tis call’d Jerusalem, my noble lord. friend's request. An honest man, sir, is able to King. Laud be to God ! even there my life speak for himself, when a knave is not. I have must end.
serv'd your worship truly, sir, this eight (51 It hath been prophesi'd to me many years, years; and if I cannot once or twice in a quarI should not die but in Jerusalein;
ter bear out a knave against an honest man,
I Which vainly I suppos'd the Holy Land, have (but a very) little credit with your worBut bear me to that chamber; there I'll lie; ship. The knave is mine honest friend, sir; In that Jerusalem shall Harry die. (Exeunt, 241 therefore, I beseech you, let him be counte
Shal. Go to; I say he shall have no wrong. ACT V
Look about, Davy. [Exit Davy.) Where are
you, Sir John? Come, come, come, off with SCENE I. (Gloucestershire. Shallow's house.) your boots. Give me your hand, Master BarEnter SHALLOW, FALSTAFF, BARDOLPH, and
Bard. I am glad to see your worship.
Shal. I thank thee with sall] my heart, kind Shal. By cock and pie, sir, you shall not Master Bardolph : and welcome, my tall fellow away to-night. What, Davy, I say !
(to the Page). Come, Sir John. Fal. You must excuse me, Master Robert Fal. I'll follow you, good Master Robert Shallow.
Shallow. (Exit Shallow. Bardolph, look to Shal. I will not excuse you ; you shall not be our horses. (Exeunt Bardolph and Page.) If excus'd; excuses shall not be admitted; there I were saw'd into quantities, I should make is no excuse shall serve; you shall not be ex- four dozen of such bearded hermits'staves as [70 cus'd. Why, Davy!
Master Shallow. It is a wonderful thing to see [Enter Davy.]
the semblable coherence of his men's spirits and
his. They, by observing (of) him, do bear themDavy. Here, sir.
selves like foolish justices; he, by conversing Shal. Davy, Davy, Davy, Davy, let me see, with them, is turn'd into a justice-like serv- [15 Davy; let me see, Davy; let me see. Yea, ing-man. Their spirits are so married in conmarry, William cook, bid' him come hither. junction with the participation of society that Sir John, you shall not be excus'd.
they flock together in consent, like so many Davy. Marry, sir, thus ; those precepts can- wild-geese. If I had a suit to Master Shallow, not be serv'd; and, again, sir, shall we sow the I would humour his men with the imputa- [80 headland with wheat?
tion of being near their master; if to his men, Shal. With red wheat, Davy. But for Wil- I would curry with Master Shallow that no man liam cook : are there no young pigeons ?
could better command his servants. It is cerDavy. Yes, sir. Here is now the smith's tain that either wise bearing or ignorant carnote for shoeing and plough-irons.
riage is caught, as men take diseases, one of [845 Shal. Let it be cast and paid. Sir John, you another; therefore let men take heed of their shall not be excus'd.
company. I will devise matter enough out of Davy. Now, sir, a new link to the bucket this Shallow to keep Prince Harry in continual must needs be had ; and, sir, do you mean to laughter the wearing out of six fashions, which stop any of William's wages, about the sack he is four terms, or two actions, and a shall lost (the other day) at Hinckley fair?
laugh without intervallums. O, it is much on Shal. A shall answer it. Some pigeons, that a lie with a slight oath and a jest with a Davy, a couple of short-legg'd hens, a joint of sad brow will do with a fellow that never had mutton, and any pretty little tiny kickshaws, the ache in his shoulders ! O, you shall see him tell William cook.
laugh till his face be like a wet cloak ill laid Davy. Doth the man of war stay all night, up. sir?
Shal. [Within.] Sir John! Shal. Yea, Davy; I will use him well. A
A Master Shallow.
Fal. I coine, Master Shallow; I come, friend i' the court is better than a penny in
(Exit. purse. Use his men well, Davy; for they are arrant knaves, and will backbite.
SCENE II. (Westminster. The palace.) Davy. No worse than they are backbitten, sir; for they have marvellous foul linen.
Enter WARWICK and the LORD CHIEF JUSTICE Shal. Well conceited, Davy. About thy busi
(meeting). ness, Davy.
War. How now, my Lord Chief Justice: Davy. I beseech you, sir, to countenance whither away? William Visor of Woncot against Clement Ch. Just. How doth the King ? Perkes o' the hill.
War. Exceeding well ; his cares are now all Shal. There is many complaints, Davy,
ended. against that Visor. That Visor is an arrant Ch. Just. I hope, not dead. knave, on my knowledge.
He's walk'd the way of nature; Davy. I grant your worship that he is a And to our purposes he lives no more. knave, sir; but yet, God forbid, sir, but a Ch. Just. I would his Majesty had callid me should have some countenance at his
The service that I truly did his life
War. Indeed I think the young King loves
myself To welcome the condition of the time, Which cannot look more hideously upon me Than I have drawn it in my fantasy. Enter LANCASTER, CLARENCE, GLOUCESTER
[WESTMORELAND, and others). War. Here come the heavy issue of dead
Harry: O that the living Harry had the temper Of him, the worst of these three gentlemen! How many nobles then should hold their places, That must strike sail to spirits of vile sort! Ch. Just. O God, I fear all will be over
turn'd! Lan. Good morrow, cousin Warwick, good
morrow Glou. Clar. )
Good morrow, cousin. Lan. We meet like men that had forgot to
speak. War. We do remember; but our argument Is all too heavy to admit much talk. Lan. Well, peace be with him that hath
made us heavy! Ch. Just. Peace be with us, lest we be
heavier ! Glou. O, good my lord, you have lost a friend
indeed; And I dare swear you borrow not that face Of seeming sorrow; it is sure your own. Lan. Though no man be assur'd what grace
to find, You stand in coldest expectation. I am the sorrier; would 't were otherwise ! Clar. Well, you must now speak Sir John
War. Here comes the Prince.
majesty, Sits not so easy on me as you think. Brothers, you mix your sadness with some fear. This is the English, not the Turkish court; Not Amurath an Amurath succeeds, But Harry Harry. Yet be sad, good brothers, For, by my faith, it very well becomes you. Sorrow so royally in you appears That I will deeply put the fashion on And wear it in my heart. Why then, sad;
But entertain no more of it, good brothers,
Majesty. King. You all look strangely on me, and you
most. You are, I think, assur'd I love you not. Ch. Just. I am assur'd, if I be measur'd
rightly, Your Majesty hath no just cause to hate me.
King. No? How might a prince of my great hopes forget So great indignities you laid upon me? What! rate, rebuke, and roughly send to
prison The immediate heir of England! Was this May this be wash'd in Lethe, and forgotten? Ch. Just. I then did use the person of your
father ; The image of his power lay then in me; And, in the administration of his law, Whiles I was busy for the commonwealth, Your Highness pleased to forget my place, The majesty and power of law and justice, The image of the King whom I presented, And struck me in my very seat of judgement; Whereon, as an offender to your father, I gave bold way to my authority And did commit you. If the deed were ill, Be you contented, wearing now the garland, To have a son set your decrees at nought? To pluck down justice from your awful bench? To trip the course of law and blunt the sword That guards the peace and safety of your perNay, more, to spurn at your most royal image And' mock your workings in a second body? Question your royal thoughts, make the case
yours : Be now the father and propose a son, Hear your own dignity so much profán'd, See your most dreadfúl laws so loosely slighted, Behold yourself so by a son disdained ; And then imagine me taking your part And in your power soft silencing your son. After this cold considerance, sentence me ; And, as you are a king, speak in your state What I have done that misbecame my place, 16* My person, or my liege's sovereignty King. You are right, Justice, and you weigh
this well, Therefore still bear the balance and the sword; And I do wish your honours may increase, Till you do live to see a son of mine Offend you and obey you, as I did. So shall I live to speak my father's words:
Happy am I, that have a man so bold, That dares do justice on my proper son ; And not less happy, having such a son
And lusty lads roam here and there
So merrily, And ever among so merrily." Fal. There is a merry heart! Good Master Silence, I'll give you a health for that anon. 26
Shal. Give Master Bardolph some wine, Davy.
Davy. Sweet sir, sit; I'll be with you anon; most sweet sir, sit. Master page, good master page, sit. Proface! What you want in nieat, we'll have in drink ; but you must bear. The heart's all.
[Erit.] 32 Shal. Be merry, Master Bardolph ; and, my little soldier there, be merry. Sil. (Singing.). “ Be merry, be merry, my
wife has all; For women are shrews, both short and
tall. 'Tis merry in ball when beards wag all,
And welcome merry Shrove-tide.
Be merry, be merry.' Fal. I did not think Master Silence had been a man of this mettle.
Sil. Who? I? I have been merry twice and
once ere now.
That would deliver up his greatness so
hand. You shall be as a father to my youth, My voice shall sound as you do prompt mine ear, And I will stoop and humble my intents To your well-practis'd wise directions. And, princes all, believe me, I beseech you, My father is gone wild into his grave, For in his tomb lie my affections ; And with his spirit sadly I survive, To mock the expectation of the world, To frustrate prophecies, and to raze out Rotten opinion, who
hath writ me down After my seeming. The tide of blood in me Hath proudly flow'd in vanity till now: Now doth it turn and ebb back to the sea, Where it shall mingle with the state of floods And flow henceforth in formal majesty. Now call we our high court of parliament; And let us choose such limbs of noble counsel, That the great body of our state may go. In equal rank with the best governd nation ; That war, or peace, or both at once, may be As things acquainted and familiar to us ; In which you, father, shall have foremost hand. Our coronation done, we will accite, As I before rememb'red, all our state; And, God consigning to my good intents, No prince nor peer shall have just cause to say, God shorten Harry's happy life one day !
(Exeunt. SCENE III. (Gloucestershire. Shallow's orchard.] Enter FalstAFF, SHALLOW, SILENCE, Davy,
BARDOLPH, and the Page. Shal. Nay, you shall see my orchard, where, in an arbour, we will eat a last year's pippin of mine own graffing, with a dish of caraways, and so forth, come, cousin Silence, - and then to bed.
Fal. 'Fore God, you have here a goodly dwelling and a rich.
Shal. Barren, barren, barren ; beggars all, beggars all, Sir John: marry, good air. Spread, Davy; spread, Davy. Well said, Davy. Fal. This Davy serves you for good uses ; he
; is your serving-man and your husband.
Shal. A good varlet, a good varlet, a very good varlet, Sir John. By the mass, I have drunk too much sack at supper. A good varlet. Now sit down, now sit down. Come, cousin.
Sil. Ah, sirrah | quoth-a, we shall
Do nothing but eat, and make good cheer,
Re-enter Davy. Davy. There's a dish of leather-coats for you.
(To Bardolph.) Shal. Davy!
Davy. Your worship! I'll be with you straight. A cup of wine, sir ? Sil. (Singing.) “A cup of wine that's brisk
And a merry heart lives long-a.” 60
Sil. An we shall be merry, now comes in the sweet o' the night.
Fal. Health and long life to you, Master Silence. Sil. (Singing.) “Fill the cup, and let it
I'll pledge you a mile to the bottom." Shal. Honest Bardolph, welcome. If thou want'st anything, and wilt not call, beshrew thy heart. Welcome, my little tiny thief (to the Page), and welcome indeed too. I'll drink to Master Bardolph, and to all the cavaleros about London.
Davy. I hope to see London once ere I die. Bard. An I might see yon there, Davy, —
Shal. By the mass, you 'll crack a quart together, ha! will you not, Master Bardolph ?
Bard. Yea, sir, in a pottle-pot.
Shal. By God's liggens, I thank thee. The knave will stick by thee, I can assure thee that. 'A will not out; he is true bred. Bard. And I'll stick by him, sir.
(One knocks at door. Shal. Why, there spoke a king. Lack nothing ; be merry! Look who's at door there, Ho! who knocks ?
[Exit Davy.] Fal. Why, now you have done me right.
(To Silence, seeing him take off a