Текст книги "William Shakespeare: The Complete Works 2nd Edition"

Автор книги: William Shakespeare

сообщить о нарушении

Текущая страница: 105 (всего у книги 250 страниц)

You are well encountered here, my cousin Mowbray.

Good day to you, gentle lord Archbishop;

And so to you, Lord Hastings, and to all.

My lord of York, it better showed with you

When that your flock, assembled by the bell,

Encircled you to hear with reverence

Your exposition on the holy text,

Than now to see you here an iron man,

Cheering a rout of rebels with your drum,

Turning the word to sword, and life to death.

That man that sits within a monarch’s heart

And ripens in the sunshine of his favour,

Would he abuse the countenance of the King,

Alack, what mischiefs might he set abroach

In shadow of such greatness! With you, Lord Bishop,

It is even so. Who hath not heard it spoken

How deep you were within the books of God—

To us, the speaker in his parliament,

To us, th‘imagined voice of God himself,é

The very opener and intelligencer

Between the grace, the sanctities of heaven

And our dull workings? O, who shall believe

But you misuse the reverence of your place,

Employ the countenance and grace of heav’n

As a false favourite doth his prince’s name

In deeds dishonourable? You have ta’en up,

Under the counterfeited zeal of God,

The subjects of his substitute, my father;

And, both against the peace of heaven and him,

Have here upswarmèd them.

ARCHBISHOP OF YORK Good my lord of Lancaster,

I am not here against your father’s peace;

But, as I told my lord of Westmorland,

The time misordered doth, in common sense,

Crowd us and crush us to this monstrous form, 260

To hold our safety up. I sent your grace

The parcels and particulars of our grief,

The which hath been with scorn shoved from the

court,

Whereon this Hydra son of war is born;

Whose dangerous eyes may well be charmed asleep

With grant of our most just and right desires,

And true obedience, of this madness cured,

Stoop tamely to the foot of majesty.

MOWBRAY

If not, we ready are to try our fortunes

To the last man.

HASTINGS And though we here fall down,

We have supplies to second our attempt.

If they miscarry, theirs shall second them;

And so success of mischief shall be born,

And heir from heir shall hold this quarrel up,

Whiles England shall have generation.

PRINCE JOHN

You are too shallow, Hastings, much too shallow,

To sound the bottom of the after-times.

WESTMORLAND

Pleaseth your grace to answer them directly

How far forth you do like their articles?

PRINCE JOHN

I like them all, and do allow them well, 280

And swear here, by the honour of my blood,

My father’s purposes have been mistook,

And some about him have too lavishly

Wrested his meaning and authority.

(To the Archbishop)

My lord, these griefs shall be with speed redressed;

Upon my soul they shall. If this may please you,

Discharge your powers unto their several counties,

As we will ours; and here between the armies

Let’s drink together friendly and embrace,

That all their eyes may bear those tokens home

Of our restored love and amity.

ARCHBISHOP OF YORK

I take your princely word for these redresses.

⌈PRINCE JOHN⌉

I give it you, and will maintain my word;

And thereupon I drink unto your grace.

He drinks

⌈HASTINGS⌉ ⌈to Coleville⌉

Go, captain, and deliver to the army

This news of peace. Let them have pay, and part.

I know it will well please them. Hie thee, captain.

Exit ⌈Coleville⌉

ARCHBISHOP OF YORK

To you, my noble lord of Westmorland!

He drinks

WESTMORLAND (drinking)

I pledge your grace. An if you knew what pains

I have bestowed to breed this present peace,

You would drink freely; but my love to ye

Shall show itself more openly hereafter.

ARCHBISHOP OF YORK

I do not doubt you.

WESTMORLAND I am glad of it.

(Drinking) Health to my lord and gentle cousin Mowbray!

MOWBRAY

You wish me health in very happy season,

For I am on the sudden something ill.

ARCHBISHOP OF YORK

Against ill chances men are ever merry;

But heaviness foreruns the good event.

WESTMORLAND

Therefore be merry, coz, since sudden sorrow

Serves to say thus: some good thing comes tomorrow.

ARCHBISHOP OF YORK

Believe me, I am passing light in spirit. 311

MOWBRAY

So much the worse, if your own rule be true.

Shout within

PRINCE JOHN

The word of peace is rendered. Hark how they shout.

MOWBRAY

This had been cheerful after victory.

ARCHBISHOP OF YORK

A peace is of the nature of a conquest,

For then both parties nobly are subdued,

And neither party loser.

PRINCE JOHN (to Westmorland) Go, my lord,

And let our army be discharged too.

Exit Westmorland

(To the Archbishop) And, good my lord, so please you,

let our trains

March by us, that we may peruse the men

We should have coped withal.

ARCHBISHOP OF YORK Go, good Lord Hastings,

And ere they be dismissed, let them march by.

Exit Hastings

PRINCE JOHN

I trust, lords, we shall lie tonight together.

Enter the Earl of Westmorland, ⌈with captains⌉

Now, cousin, wherefore stands our army still?

WESTMORLAND

The leaders, having charge from you to stand,

Will not go off until they hear you speak.

PRINCE JOHN

They know their duties.

Enter Lord Hastings

HASTINGS ⌈to the Archbishop⌉ Our army is dispersed.

Like youthful steers unyoked, they take their courses,

East, west, north, south; or, like a school broke up,

Each hurries toward his home and sporting place.

WESTMORLAND

Good tidings, my lord Hastings, for the which

I do arrest thee, traitor, of high treason;

And you, Lord Archbishop, and you, Lord Mowbray,

Of capital treason I attach you both.

⌈The captains guard Hastings, the Archbishop, and Mowbray⌉

MOWBRAY

Is this proceeding just and honourable?

WESTMORLAND Is your assembly so?

ARCHBISHOP OF YORK Will you thus break your faith?

PRINCE JOHN I pawned thee none.

I promised you redress of these same grievances

Whereof you did complain; which, by mine honour,

I will perform with a most Christian care.

But for you rebels, look to taste the due

Meet for rebellion and such acts as yours.

Most shallowly did you these arms commence,

Fondly brought here, and foolishly sent hence.—345

Strike up our drums, pursue the scattered stray.

God, and not we, hath safely fought today.

Some guard these traitors to the block of death,

Treason’s true bed and yielder up of breath. Exeunt

4.2 Alarum. Excursions. Enter Sir John Falstaff and Coleville

SIR JOHN What’s your name, sir, of what condition are you, and of what place, I pray?

COLEVILLE I am a knight, sir, and my name is Coleville of the Dale.

SIR JOHN Well then, Coleville is your name, a knight is your degree, and your place the Dale. Coleville shall be still your name, a traitor your degree, and the dungeon your place—a place deep enough, so shall you be still Coleville of the Dale.

COLEVILLE Are not you Sir John Falstaff? 10

SIR JOHN As good a man as he, sir, whoe’er I am. Do ye yield, sir, or shall I sweat for you? If I do sweat, they are the drops of thy lovers, and they weep for thy death; therefore rouse up fear and trembling, and do observance to my mercy. 15

COLEVILLE (kneeling) I think you are Sir John Falstaff, and in that thought yield me.

SIR JOHN (aside) I have a whole school of tongues in this belly of mine, and not a tongue of them all speaks any other word but my name. An I had but a belly of any indifferency, I were simply the most active fellow in Europe. My womb, my womb, my womb undoes me.

Enter Prince John, the Earl of Westmorland, Sir John Blunt, and other lords and soldiers

Here comes our general.

PRINCE JOHN

The heat is past; follow no further now.

A retreat is sounded

Call in the powers, good cousin Westmorland.

Exit Westmorland

Now, Falstaff, where have you been all this while?

When everything is ended, then you come.

These tardy tricks of yours will, on my life,

One time or other break some gallows’ back.

SIR JOHN 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, an 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; I have foundered nine-score and odd posts; and here, travel-tainted as I am, have in my pure and immaculate valour taken Sir John Coleville of the Dale, a most furious knight and valorous enemy. But what of that? He saw me, and yielded, that I may justly say, with the hook-nosed fellow of Rome, ‘I came, saw, and overcame.’

PRINCE JOHN It was more of his courtesy than your deserving.

SIR JOHN I know not. Here he is, and here I yield him; and I beseech your grace, let it be booked with the rest of this day’s deeds; or, by the Lord, I will have it in a particular ballad else, with mine own picture on the top on‘t, Coleville kissing my foot; to the which course if I be enforced, if you do not all show like gilt twopences to me, and I in the clear sky of fame o’ershine you as much as the full moon doth the cinders of the element, which show like pins’ heads to her, believe not the word of the noble. Therefore let me have right, and let desert mount.

PRINCE JOHN Thine’s too heavy to mount.

SIR JOHN Let it shine then.

PRINCE JOHN Thine’s too thick to shine.

SIR JOHN Let it do something, my good lord, that may do me good, and call it what you will.

PRINCE JOHN

Is thy name Coleville?

COLEVILLE It is, my lord. 60

PRINCE JOHN

A famous rebel art thou, Coleville.

SIR JOHN And a famous true subject took him.

COLEVILLE

I am, my lord, but as my betters are

That led me hither. Had they been ruled by me,

You should have won them dearer than you have.

SIR JOHN

I know not how—they sold themselves, but thou

Like a kind fellow gav’st thyself away,

And I thank thee for thee.

Enter the Earl of Westmorland

PRINCE JOHN Have you left pursuit?

WESTMORLAND

Retreat is made, and execution stayed.

PRINCE JOHN

Send Coleville with his confederates 70

To York, to present execution.

Blunt, lead him hence, and see you guard him sure.

Exit Blunt, with Coleville

And now dispatch we toward the court, my lords.

I hear the King my father is sore sick.

(To Westmorland) Our news shall go before us to his

majesty,

Which, cousin, you shall bear to comfort him;

And we with sober speed will follow you.

SIR JOHN

My lord, I beseech you give me leave to go

Through Gloucestershire, and when you come to court

Stand, my good lord, pray, in your good report.

PRINCE JOHN

Fare you well, Falstaff. I in my condition

Shall better speak of you than you deserve.

Exeunt all but Sir John

SIR JOHN I would you had but the wit; ‘twere better than your dukedom. Good faith, this same young sober-blooded boy doth not love me, nor a man cannot make him laugh. But that’s no marvel; he drinks no wine. There’s never none of these demure boys come to any proof; for thin drink doth so overcool their blood, and making many fish meals, that they fall into a kind of male green-sickness; and then when they marry, they get wenches. They are generally fools and cowards—which some of us should be too, but for inflammation. A good sherry-sack hath a two-fold operation in it. It ascends me into the brain, dries me there all the foolish and dull and crudy vapours which environ it, makes it apprehensive, quick, forgetive, full of nimble, fiery, and delectable shapes, which, delivered o’er to the voice, the tongue, which is the birth, becomes excellent wit. The second property of your excellent sherry 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 sherry warms it, and makes it course from the inwards to the parts’ extremes; it illuminateth 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 his retinue, doth any deed of courage. And this valour comes of sherry. 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 act and use. Hereof comes it that Prince Harry is valiant; for the cold blood he did naturally inherit of his father he hath, like lean, sterile, and bare land, manured, husbanded, and tilled, with excellent endeavour of drinking good, and good store of fertile sherry, that he is become very hot and valiant. If I had a thousand sons, the first human principle I would teach them should be to forswear thin potations, and to addict themselves to sack. 121

Enter Bardolph

How now, Bardolph?

BARDOLPH

The army is discharged all and gone.

SIR JOHN Let them go. I’ll through Gloucestershire, and there will I visit Master Robert Shallow, Esquire. I have him already tempering between my finger and my thumb, and shortly will I seal with him. Come, away!

Exeunt

4.3 Enter King Henry ⌈in his bed⌉, attended by the Earl of Warwick, Thomas Duke of Clarence, Humphrey Duke of Gloucester, ⌈and others⌉

KING HENRY

Now, lords, if God doth give successful 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 addressed, our power collected,

Our substitutes in absence well invested,

And everything 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. 10

WARWICK

Both which we doubt not but your majesty

Shall soon enjoy.

KING HENRY Humphrey, my son of Gloucester,

Where is the Prince your brother?

GLOUCESTER

I think he’s gone to hunt, my lord, at Windsor.

KING HENRY

And how accompanied?

GLOUCESTER I do not know, my lord. 15

KING HENRY

Is not his brother Thomas of Clarence with him?

GLOUCESTER

No, my good lord, he is in presence here.

CLARENCE What would my lord and father?

KING HENRY

Nothing but well to thee, Thomas of Clarence.

How chance thou art not with the Prince thy brother?

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 mayst effect

Of mediation, after I am dead, 25

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; 30

He hath a tear for pity, and a hand

Open as day for melting charity.

Yet notwithstanding, being incensed, he is flint,

As humorous as winter, and as sudden

As flaws congealed in the spring of day.

His temper therefore must be well observed.

Chide him for faults, and do it reverently,

When you perceive his blood inclined to mirth;

But being moody, give him line and scope

Till that his passions, like a whale on ground,

Confound themselves with working. Learn this,

Thomas,

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.

CLARENCE

I shall observe him with all care and love.

KING HENRY

Why art thou not at Windsor with him, Thomas? 50

CLARENCE

He is not there today; he dines in London.

KING HENRY

And how accompanied? Canst thou tell that?

CLARENCE

With Poins and other his continual followers.

KING HENRY

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 th’unguided days

And rotten times that you shall look upon 60

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 opposed decay?

WARWICK

My gracious lord, you look beyond him quite.

The Prince but studies his companions,

Like a strange tongue, wherein, to gain the language,

’Tis needful that the most immodest word

Be looked upon and learnt, which once attained,

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 other,

Turning past evils to advantages.

KING HENRY

’Tis seldom when the bee doth leave her comb

In the dead carrion.

Enter the Earl of Westmorland

Who’s here? Westmorland? 80

WESTMORLAND

Health to my sovereign, and new happiness

Added to that that I am to deliver I

Prince John your son doth kiss your grace’s hand.

Mowbray, the Bishop Scrope, 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.

He gives the King papers

KING HENRY

O Westmorland, thou art a summer bird

Which ever in the haunch of winter sings

The lifting up of day.

Enter Harcourt

Look, here’s more news.

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.

He gives the King papers

KING HENRY

And wherefore should these good news make me sick?

Will fortune never come with both hands full,

But write her fair words still in foulest letters?

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. 110

O me! Come near me now; I am much ill.

He swoons

GLOUCESTER

Comfort, your majesty!

CLARENCE O my royal father!

WESTMORLAND

My sovereign lord, cheer up yourself, look up.

WARWICK

Be patient, princes; you do know these fits

Are with his highness very ordinary. 115

Stand from him, give him air; he’ll straight be well.

CLARENCE

No, no, he cannot long hold out these pangs.

Th’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. 120

GLOUCESTER

The people fear me, for they do observe

Unfathered heirs and loathly births of nature.

The seasons change their manners, as the year

Had found some months asleep and leaped them over.

CLARENCE

The river hath thrice flowed, no ebb between, 125

And the old folk, time’s doting chronicles,

Say it did so a little time before

That our great grandsire Edward sicked and died.

WARWICK

Speak lower, princes, for the King recovers.

GLOUCESTER

This apoplexy will certain be his end.

KING HENRY

I pray you take me up and bear me hence

Into some other chamber; softly, pray.

⌈The King is carried over the stage in his 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.

⌈Exit one or more. Still music within⌉

KING HENRY

Set me the crown upon my pillow here.

⌈Clarence⌉ takes the crown ⌈from the King’s head⌉, and sets it on his pillow

CLARENCE

His eye is hollow, and he changes much.

⌈A noise within⌉

WARWICK

Less noise, less noise!

Enter Prince Harry

PRINCE HARRY Who saw the Duke of Clarence?

CLARENCE

I am here, brother, full of heaviness.

PRINCE HARRY

How now, rain within doors, and none abroad?

How doth the King?

GLOUCESTER Exceeding ill.

PRINCE HARRY

Heard he the good news yet? Tell it him.

GLOUCESTER

He altered much upon the hearing it.

PRINCE HARRY If he be sick with joy, he’ll recover without physic. WARWICK

Not so much noise, my lords! Sweet prince, speak low.

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 HARRY

No, I will sit and watch here by the King.

Exeunt all but the King and Prince Harry

Why doth the crown lie there upon his pillow,

Being so troublesome a bedfellow?

O polished perturbation, golden care,

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 biggen bound

Snores out the watch of night. O majesty,

When thou dost pinch thy bearer, thou dost sit

Like a rich armour worn in heat of day,

That scald’st with safety.—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 imperial crown,

Which, as immediate from thy place and blood,

Derives itself to me.

He puts the crown on his head

Lo 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 ’tis left to me. Exit

⌈Music ceases.⌉ The King awakes

KING HENRY

Warwick, Gloucester, Clarence!

Enter the Earl of Warwick, and the Dukes of

Gloucester and Clarence

CLARENCE Doth the King call?

WARWICK

What would your majesty? How fares your grace?

KING HENRY

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 HENRY

The Prince of Wales? Where is he? Let me see him.

WARWICK

This door is open; he is gone this way.

GLOUCESTER

He came not through the chamber where we stayed.

KING HENRY

Where is the crown? Who took it from my pillow?

WARWICK

When we withdrew, my liege, we left it here.

KING HENRY

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 piled up the cankered heaps

Of strange-achieved gold; for this they have

Been thoughtful to invest their sons with arts

And martial exercises; when, like the bee

Culling from every flower the virtuous sweets,

Our thighs packed with wax, our mouths with honey,

We bring it to the hive; and, like the bees, 206

Are murdered for our pains. This bitter taste

Yields his engrossments to the ending father.

Enter the Earl of Warwick

Now where is he that will not stay so long

Till his friend sickness have determined me?

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 215

With gentle eye-drops. He is coming hither.

KING HENRY

But wherefore did he take away the crown?

Enter Prince Harry with the crown

Lo where he comes.—Come hither to me, Harry.

(To the others) Depart the chamber; leave us here

alone. Exeunt all but the King and Prince Harry

PRINCE HARRY

I never thought to hear you speak again.

KING HENRY

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 my 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 sealed up my expectation.

Thy life did manifest thou loved’st me not,

And thou wilt have me die assured of it.

Thou hid’st a thousand daggers in thy thoughts,

Whom 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 crowned. 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 I

Have you a ruffian that will swear, drink, dance,

Revel the night, rob, murder, and commit

The oldest sins the newest kind of ways?

Be happy; he will trouble you no more.

England shall double gild his treble guilt,

England shall give him office, honour, might;

For the fifth Harry from curbed licence plucks

The muzzle of restraint, and the wild dog 260

Shall flesh his tooth on every innocent.

O my poor kingdom, sick with civil blows!

When that my care could not withhold thy riots,

What wilt thou do when riot is thy care?

O, thou wilt be a wilderness again,

Peopled with wolves, thy old inhabitants.

PRINCE HARRY

O pardon me, my liege! But for my tears,

The moist impediments unto my speech,

I had forestalled 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;

⌈He returns the crown and kneels⌉

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.

God 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 th‘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 depending

Hath fed upon the body of my father;

Therefore thou best of gold art worst of gold.

Other, less fine in carat, is more precious,

Preserving life in medicine potable;

But thou, most fine, most honoured, most renowned,

Hast eat thy bearer up.’ Thus, my royal liege,

Accusing it, I put it on my head,

To try with it, as with an enemy

That had before my face murdered 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 HENRY 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.

Prince Harry ⌈rises from kneeling and⌉ sits by the bed

God knows, my son,

By what bypaths 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 seemed in me

But as an honour snatched with boist‘rous 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 seest with peril I have answerèd;

For all my reign hath been but as a scene

Acting that argument. And now my death

Changes the mood, for what in me was purchased

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 advanced,

And by whose power I well might lodge a fear

To be again displaced; 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!

PRINCE HARRY 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 ⌈followed by⌉ the Earl of Warwick ⌈and others⌉

KING HENRY

Look, look, here comes my John of Lancaster.

PRINCE JOHN

Health, peace, and happiness to my royal father!

KING HENRY

Thou bring’st me happiness and peace, son John;

But health, alack, with youthful wings is flown

From this bare withered trunk. Upon thy sight

My worldly business makes a period.

Where is my lord of Warwick?

PRINCE HARRY My lord of Warwick!

⌈Warwick comes forward to the King⌉

KING HENRY

Doth any name particular belong

Unto the lodging where I first did swoon?

WARWICK

’Tis called Jerusalem, my noble lord.

KING HENRY

Laud be to God! Even there my life must end.

It hath been prophesied to me many years