Hum. The people feare me, for they do obferue Vnfather'd heires, and lothly births of nature,

The feafons change their manners, as the yeere

Hath found fome moneths a fleepe, and leapt them ouer.
Clar. The riuer hath thrice flowed, no ebbe between,
And the old folk, (times doting chronicles,)

Say, it did fo a little time before

That our great grandfire Edward, fickt and died.
War. Speake lower, princes, for the king recouers.
Hum. This apoplexi wil certaine be his end.

King. I pray you take me vp, and beare me hence,
Into fome other chamber.

Let there be no noyfe made, my gentle friends,
Vnlesse some dull and fauourable hand

Will whisper mufique to my weary spirite.

War. Call for the mufique in the other roome.
King. Set me the crowne vpon my pillow here.
Clar. His eie is hollow, and he changes much.
War. Leffe noyfe, lesse noyse.

Enter Harry.

Prince. Who faw the duke of Clarence?

Clar. I am here brother, ful of heauineffe.

Prince. How now, raine within doores, and none abroad?

How doth the king?

Hum. Exceeding ill.

Prince. Heard he the good newes yet? tell it him.

Hum. He altred much vpon the hearing it.

Prince. If he be ficke with ioy, hecle recouer without phificke.

War. Not so much noyfe my lords, fweete prince, fpeake lowe, the king your father is difpofde to fleepe.

Cla. Let vs withdraw into the other roome.

War. Wilt please your grace to go along with vs ?

Prince.

Prince. No, I wil fit and watch heere by the king.
Why doth the crowne lie there vpon his pillow,
Being fo troublefome a bed fellow?

O polifht perturbation! golden care!
That keepft the ports of flumber open wide
To many a watchfull night, fleepe with it now!
Yet not fo found, and halfe fo deeply fweete,
As he whole brow (with homely biggen bound)
Snores out the watch of night. O maiestie !
When thou doft pinch thy bearer, thou dost sit
Like a rich armour worne in heate of day,
That scaldst with fafty (by his gates of breath)
There lies a dowlny feather which stirs not,
Did he fufpire, that light and weightlesse dowlne
Perforce must moue my gracious lord my father:
This fleepe is found indeede, this is a fleepe,
That from this golden rigoll hath diuorft
So many English kings, thy deaw from me,
Is teares and heauy forowes of the blood,
Which nature, loue, and filiall tendernesse
Shall (O deare father) pay thee plenteously:
My due from thee is this imperiall crownc,
Which as immediate from thy place and blood,

Deriues it felfe to me: loe where it fits,

Which God fhal guard, and put the worlds whole strength

Into one giant arme, it shal not force,

This lineal honor from me, this from thee

Will I to mine leaue, as tis left to me.

Enter Warwicke, Gloucester, Clarence.

King. Warwicke, Gloucefter, Clarence.

Clar. Doth the king cal?

War. What would your maieftie?

King. Why did you leaue me here alone, my lords?

Nn 3

Exit.

Cla

Cla. We left the prince my brother here my liege, who va dertooke to fit and watch by you.

King. The prince of Wales, where is he? let me fee him: he is not here.

War. This doore is open, he is gone this way.

Hum. He came not through the chamber where we staide.
King. Where is the crowne? who tooke it from my pillow?
War. When we withdrew, my liege, we left it here.
King. The prince hath tape it hence, go feeke him out:
Is he fo haftie, that he doth fuppofe my fleepe my death?
Finde him, my lord of Warwicke, chide him hither.
This part of his conioynes with my disease,

And helps to end me; fee, fonnes, what things you are,
How quickly nature falls into reuolt,

When gold becomes her obiect?

For this, the foolish ouer-carefull fathers

Haue broke their fleepe with thoughts,

Their braines with care, their bones with industry:
For this they haue ingroffed and pilld vp,
The cankred heapes of strange atcheeued gold :
For this they haue beene thoughtfull to inueft
Their fonnes with arts and martiall exercises,
When like the bee toling from euery flower,
Our thigh, packt with waxe, our mouthes with hony,
We bring it to the hiue: and like the bees,
Are murdred for our paines, this bitter tafte
Yeelds his engroffements to the ending father,
Now where is he that will not stay fo long,
Till his friend fickneffe hands determind me,

Enter Warwicke.

War. My lord, I found the prince in the next roome,

Washing with kindly teares, his gentle cheekes,

With fuch a deepe demeanour in great forrow,

That

That tyranny, which neuer quaft but bloud,
Would by beholding him, haue washt his knife,
With gentle eie-drops, hee is comming hither.

Enter Harry.

King. But wherefore did he take away the crowne? Loe where he comes, come hither to me Harry, Depart the chamber, leaue vs here alone.

Exeunt.

Harry. I neuer thought to heare you speake againe. King. Thy with was father (Harry,) to that thought I stay too long by thee, I weary thee,

Doft thou fo hunger for mine emptie chaire,

That thou wilt needes inueft thee with my honors,
Before thy howre be ripe! O foolish youth,
Thou seekst the greatneffe that will ouerwhelme thee,
Stay but a little, for my clowd of dignity
Is held from falling with fo weake a wind,

That it will quickly drop: my day is dim,

Thou haft ftolne that, which after fome few houres,
Were thine, without offence, and at my death,
Thou haft feald vp my expectation,

Thy life did manifest thou lou'dst me not,

And thou wilt haue me die, affurde of it,
Thou hidft a thousand daggers in thy thoughts,
Whom thou haft whetted on thy ftony heart,
To stab at halfe an hower of my life.

What, canft thou not forbeare me halfe an hower?
Then get thee gone, and digge my graue thy felfe,
And bid the mery bells ring to thine eare,

That thou art crowned, not that I am dead:
Let all the teares that should bedew my hearse
Be drops of balme, to fanctifie thy head,
Only compound me with forgotten duft.
Giue that which gaue thee life, vnto the wormes,

Plucke downe my officers, breake my decrees,
For now a time is come to mocke at forme:
Harry the fift is crownd, vp vanitie,

Downe royall ftate, all you fage counfailers, hence,
And to the English court affemble now

From euery region, apes of idleneffe :

Now neighbour confines, purge you of your fcumme
Haue you a ruffin that will fweare, drinke, daunce,
Reuell the night, rob, murder, and commit
The oldest finnes, the newest kind of waies?
Be happy, he will trouble you no more.
England fhal double gild his trebble gilt,
England fhall give him office, honour, might:
From the fift Harry, from curbd licence, plucks
The mussel of restraint, and the wild dogge
Shal flesh his tooth on euery innocent.

O my poore kingdome! ficke with ciuill blowes:
When that my care could not withhold thy riots,
What wilt thou do when riot is thy care?
O thou wilt be a wilderneffe againe,

Peopled with woolues, thy old inhabitants.

Prince. O pardon me, my liege, but for my teares, The moift impediments vnto my speech,

I had foreftald this deere and deep rebuke,

Ere you with griefe had spoke, and I had heard
The course of it fo far: there is your crowne:
And he that weares the crowne immortally,
Long gard it yours: if I affect it more,
Then as your honour, and as your renowne,
Let me no more from this obedience rife,
Which my most inward true and duteous fpirit,
Teacheth this proftrate and exterior bending,
God witneffe with me. When I here came in,
And found no courfe of breath within your maiefty,

How