Into one giant arm, it fhall not force
This lineal honour from me. This from thee
Will I to mine leave, as 'tis left to me.
Enter Warwick, Gloucefter, and Clarence.
K. Henry. Warwick! Gloucefter! Clarence!
Cla. Doth the King call?
War. What would your Majefty? How fares your Grace! K. Henry. Why did you leave me here alone, my Lords? Cla. We left the Prince my brother here, my Liege, Who undertook to fit and watch by you.
K. Henry. The Prince of Wales? Where is he? Let me fee him.
War. This door is open, he is gone this way.
Glou. He came not through the chamber where we stay'd. K. Henry. Where is the crown? who took it from my pillow?
War. When we withdrew, my Liege, we left it here. K. Henry. The Prince hath ta'en it hence; go feek him
Is he fo hafty, that he doth fuppofe
My fleep my death? Find him, my Lord of Warwick,
And chide him hither straight: this part of his
Conjoins with my difeafe, and helps to end me.
See, fons, what things you are! how quickly Nature
Falls to revolt, when gold becomes her object!
For this the foolish over-careful fathers
Have broke their fleeps with thought, their brains with care,
Their bones with industry; for this, engrofs'd
'The canker'd heaps of ftrange-atchieved gold;
For this, they have been thoughtful to inveft
Their fons with arts and martial exercifes.
When, like the bee, culling from every flower,
Our thighs are packt with wax, our mouths with honey,
We bring it to the hive; and, like the bees,
Are murder'd for our pains! This bitter tafte
Yields his engroffments to the dying father.
Now, where is he, that will not stay so long,
Till his friend, Sicknefs, hath determin'd me?
War. My Lord, I found the Prince in the next room,
Washing with kindly tears his gentle cheeks,
With fuch a deep demeanour in great forrow,
That Tyranny, which never quaft but blood,
Would, by beholding him, have wash'd his knife
With gentle eye-drops. He is coming hither.
K. Henry. But wherefore did he take away the crown?
Enter Prince Henry.
Come hither to me, Harry-Depart the chamber, leave us here alone: [Exeunt Lords.. P. Henry. I never thought to hear you speak again.
K. Henry. Thy with was father, Harry, to that thought; Iftay too long by thee, I weary thee.
Doft thou fo hunger for my empty chair,
That thou wilt needs inveft thee with my honours
Before thy hour be ripe? O foolish youth!
Thou feek'ft the greatness that will overwhelm thee.
Stay but a little; for my cloud of dignity
Is held from falling with fo weak a wind,
That it will quickly drop; my day is dim.
Thou haft ftol'n that, which, after fome few hours,.
- Were thine without offence; and 'at my
Thou haft feal'd up my expectation:
Thy life did manifeft thou lov'dft me not;
And thou wilt have me die aflur'd of it.
Thou hid't a thousand daggers in thy thoughts,
Which thou haft wetted on thy ftony heart,
To ftab at half an hour of my frail life.
What! canft thou not forbear me half an hour?
Then get thee gone, and dig my grave thyself,
And bid the merry bells ring to thy ear
That thou art crown'd, not that I am dead.
-Let all the tears that fhould bedew my hearfe,
Be drops of balm to fan&tify thy head;
Only compound me with forgotten duft,
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;
Henry the Fifth is crown'd. Up, Vanity!
Down, royal State! All you fage Counsellors, hence;
And to the English Court affemble now,
From every region, apes of Idleness;
Now, neighbour confines, purge you of your fcum;
Have you a ruffian that will fwear, drink, dance,
Revel the night, rob, murder, and commit
The oldeft fins the newest kind of ways:
Be happy, he will trouble you no more;
England hall double gild his teble guilt;
England thall give him office, honour, might;
For the Fifth Harry from curb'd licence plucks
The muzzle of Restraint, and the wild dog
Shall fleth his tooth on every innocent.
O my poor kingdom! fick 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 wildernefs again,
Peopled with wolves, thy old inhabitants!
P. Henry. O pardon me, my Liege! but for my tears, The moift impediments unto my fpeech,
I had forestall'd this dear and deep rebuke,
Ere you with grief had fpoke, and I had heard
The courfe of it fo far. There is your crown;
And he that wears the crown immortally,
Long guard it yours! If I affect it more,
T'han as your honour, and as your renown,
Let me no more from this obedience rise,
Which my most true and inward-duteous fpirit
Teacheth this proftrate and exterior bending.
Heaven witreis with me, when I here came in,
And found no courfe of breath within your Majesty,
How cold it ftruck my heart! If I do feign,
O let me in my prefent wildness die,
And never live to fhew th' incredulous, world
The noble change that I have purpofed.
Coming to look on you, thinking you dead,
(And dead almoft, my Liege, to think you were)
I fpake unto the crown, as having fenfe,
And thus upbraided it. The care on thee depending
Hath fed upon the body of my father;
Therefore thou beft of gold art worst of gold:
Other, lefs fine in carat, is more precious,
Preterying life in ed'cine potable;
But thou, most fine, most honour'd, most renown'd,
Haft eat thy bearer up. Thus, Royal Liege,
Accufing it, I put it on my head,
To try with it, as with an enemy,
That had before my face murder'd my father,
The quarrel of a true inheritor.
But if it did infect my blood with joy,
Or fwell my thoughts to any ftrain of pride,
any rebel or vain fpirit of mine
Did with the least affection of a welcome
Give entertainment to the might of it,
Let Heaven for ever keep it from my head,
And make me as the pooreft vaffal is,
That doth with awe and terror kneel to it!
K. Henry O my fon!
Heaven put it in thy head to take it hence,
That thou might'ft win the more thy father's love,
Pleading fo wifely in excuse of it.
Come hither, Harry, fit thou by my bed;
And hear, I think, the very latest counsel
That ever I fhall breathe. Heaven knows, my fon,
By what by-paths and indirect crook'd ways
I met this crown; and I myself know well
How troublesome it fat upon my head.
To thee it shall defcend with better quiet,
Better opinion, better confirmation;
For all the foil of the atchievement goes
With me into the earth. It feem'd in me
But as an honour fnatch'd with boist'rous hand,
And I had many living to upbraid
My gain of it by their affiftances;
Which daily grew to quarrel and to bloodfhed,
Wounding fuppofed peace. All thefe bold fears,
Thou feeft, with peril I have answer'd,
For all my reign hath been but as a scene,
Afting that argument; and now my death
Changes the mode: for what in me was purchas'd,
upon thee in a much fairer fort;
So thou the garland wear'ft fucceffively.
Yet, though thou ftand't more fure than I could do,
Thou art not firm enough, fince griefs are green,
And all thy friends, which thou must make thy friends,
Have but their ftings and teeth newly ta'en out,
By whofe fell working I was firft advanc'd,
And by whofe pow'r I well might lodge a fear
To be again difplac'd; which to avoid.
I cut them off, and had a purpose now
To lead out many to the Holy Land;
Left reft and lying ftill might make them look
Too near into my ftate. Therefore, my Harry,
Be it thy course to bufy giddy minds
With foreign quarrels; that action, hence, borne out,
May wafte the memory of former days.
More would I, but my lungs are wafted fo;
That ftrength of speech is utterly deny'd me..
How I came by the crown, O God, forgive!
And grant it may with thee in true peace live..
P. Henry. My gracious Liege,
You won it, wore it, kept it, gave it me;
Then plain and right muft my poffeffion be;.
Which I, with more than with a common pain,.
Gainft all the world will rightfully maintain.
Enter Lord John of Lancaster, and Warwick:
K. Henry. Look, look, here comes my John of Lancaster:
L'an. Health, peace, and happiness to my royal father!
K. Henry. Thou bring'ft me happiness and peace, fon John;
But health, alack, with youthful wings, is flown
From this bare, wither'd trunk. Upon thy fight
My worldly business makes a period.
Where is my Lord of Warwick?
P. Henry. My Lord of Warwick
K. Henry, Doth any name particular belong Unto the lodging where I first did fwoon? War. "Tis call'd Jerufalem, my noble Lord.
K. Henry. Laud be to God! even there my life muft `end. It hath been prophefy'd to me many years, I should not die but in Jerufalem, Which vainly I fuppos'd the Holy Land. But bear me to that chamber, there I'll lie: In that Jerufalem fhall Harry die.
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