Turning paft evils to advantages.

K. Henry. 'Tis feldom, when the bee doth leave her comb

In the dead carrion.-Who's here? Weftmorland!

SCENE IX.

Enter Weftmorland.

Wet. Health to my Sovereign, and new happiness Added to that which I am to deliver!.

Prince John, your fon, doth kifs your Grace's hand:
Mowbray, the Bishop Scroop, Haftings, and all,
Are brought to the correction of your law:
There is not now a rebel's fword unfheath'd,
But Peace puts forth her olive ev'ry where.
The manner how this action hath been borne,
Here at more leisure may your Highness read,
With every courfe, in his particular.

K. Henry. O Weftmorland, thou art a fummer-bird,
Which ever in the haunch of Winter fings
The lifting up of day.

Enter Harcourt.

Look, here's more news.

Har. From enemies heav'n keep your Majefty:
And, when they ftand against you, may they fall
As thofe that I am come to tell you of!

The Earl of Northumberland, and the Lord Bardolph,
With a great pow'r of English and of Scots,
Are by the Sh'riff of Yorkshire overthrown:
The manner and true order of the fight,
This packet, please it you, contains at large.
K. Henry. And wherefore should thefe good news
make me fick?

Will Fortune never come with both hands full,
But write her fair words ftill in fouleft letters?
She either gives a stomach and no food;
(Such are the poor, in health); or else a feast,
And takes away the ftomach; (fuch the rich,
That have abundance, and enjoy it not).
I fhould rejoice now at this happy news;
And now my fight fails, and my brain is giddy.
O me, come near me, now I am much ill!
Glou. Comfort your Majesty!

Cla. Oh, my royal father!

Weft. My fovereign Lord, chear up yourself, look up. War. Be patient, Princes; you do know these fits Are with his Highness very ordinary.

Stand from him, give him air: he'll ftraight be well.
Cla. No, no, he cannot long hold out these
pangs;
Th' inceffant 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.
Glou. The people fear me; for they do obferve
Unfeather'd heirs and loathly births of nature.
The feafons change their manners, as the year
Had found fome months afleep, and leap'd them over.
Cla. The river hath thrice flow'd, no ebb between;
And the old folk (time's doating chronicles)
Say, it did fo a little time before

That our great grandfire Edward fick'd and dy'd.
War. Speak lower, Princes, for the King recovers.
Glou. This apoplex will, certain, be his end.

K. Henry. I pray you take me up and bear me hence Into fome other chamber: foftly, 'pray.

Let there be no noife made, my gentle friends,
Unless fome doleing *, favourable hand
Will whisper mufic to my weary spirit.

War. Call for the mufic in the other room.

K. Henry. Set me the crown upon my pillow here.
Cla. His eye is hollow and he changes much.
War. Lefs noife, lefs noife.

SCENE X.

Enter Prince Henry.

P. Henry. Who faw the Duke of Clarence?
Cla. I am here, brother, full of heavineis.

* P. Henry. How now! rain within doors, and none How doth the King?

Glou. Exceeding ill.

P. Henry. Heard he the good news yet? Tell it him.

[abroad?

Glou. He alter'd much upon the hearing it.
P. Henry. If he be fick with joy,"

He'll recover without phyfic.

* i, e. a hand ufing foft mela choly airs. VOL. IV.

Ff

War.

War. Not fo much noife, my Lords; fweet Prince, fpeak low;

The King, your father is difpos'd to fleep.

Cla. Let us withdraw into the other room. War. Will't please your Grace to go along with us? P. Henry. No; I will fit, and watch here by the King, [Exeunt all but P. Henry. Why doth the crown lie there upon his pillow, Being fo troublefome a bed-fellow? "O polifh'd perturbation! golden care! "That keep'ft the ports of flumber open wide "To many a watchful night: fleep with it now! "Yet not fo found, and half fo deeply fweet, "As he whofe brow, with homely biggen bound, "Snores out the watch of night. O Majefty! "When thou doft pinch thy bearer, thou dost fit. "Like a rich armour worn in heat of day, "That fealds with fafety. By his gates of breath There lies a downy feather, which ftirs not. Did he fufpire, that light and weightlefs down Perforce must move. My gracious Lord! my father! This fleep is found, indeed; this is a fleep, That from this golden rigol hath divorce'd So many English Kings. Thy due from me Is tears, and heavy forrows 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 itfelf to me. Lo, here it fits,

Which heav'n fhall guard: and put the world's whole 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.

[ftrength

[Exit.

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.

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. The 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 Is he fo hafty, that he doth fuppofe [him out. My fleep my death? find him, my Lord of Warwick, And chide him hither ftraight; this part of his Conjoins with my disease, 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 foolifh over-careful fathers [care, Have broke their fleeps with thought, their brains with Their bones with induftry: for this, ingroffed The canker'd heaps of ftrange-atchieved gold: For this they have been thoughtful to inveft," Their fons with arts and martial exercises: When, like the bee, culling from ev'ry flow'r, Our thighs are 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 tafte Yield his ingroffments to the dying father.

Enter Warwick.

Now, where is he, that will not ftay fo long,
Till his friend, fickness, 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 quaff'd 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.

Lo, where he comes. Come hither to me, Harry ;
Depart the chamber, leave us here alone. [Ex.Lords.
P. Henry. I never thought to hear you speak again.
K. Henry. Thy wifh was father, Harry, to that
I ftay too long by thee, I weary thee. [thought.
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 greatnefs 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 haft ftoln that, which, after fome few hours,
Were thine without offence; and at my death
Thou haft feal'd up my expectation ;

Thy life did manifeft, thou lov'dst me not;
And thou wilt have me die affur'd of it.

Thou hid'st a thousand daggers in thy thoughts,
Which thou haft whitted on thy ftony heart,
To stab 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 thyfelf,
And bid the merry bells ring to thy ear,
That thou art crowned, not that I am dead.
Let all the tears that fhould bedew my herfe,
Be drops of balm to fanctify thy head;
Only compound me with forgotten duft,
Give that which gave thee life unto the worms.
Pluck down my officers, break my decrées;
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 ev'ry 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 oldet fins the newest kind of ways? "Be happy, he will trouble you no more: [England fhall double gild his treble guilt; *] Evidently the nonlence of fame foolish player. Mr. W

England