Have here up-swarm'd them.

Arch.

Good my lord of Lancaster, I am not here against your father's peace: But, as I told my lord of Westmoreland, The time misorder'd doth, in common sense, Crowd us, and crush us, to this monstrous form, To hold our safety up. I sent your grace The parcels and particulars of our grief; [court, The which hath been with scorn shov'd from the Whereon this Hydra son of war is born: Whose dangerous eyes may well be charm'd asleep, With grant of our most just and right desires : And true obedience, of this madness cur'd; Stoop tamely to the foot of majesty.

Mowb. If not, we ready are to try our fortunes To the last man.

Hast. 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.

P. John. You are too shallow, Hastings, much too shallow.

To sound the bottom of the after-times.

[ly, West. Pleaseth your grace, to answer them directHow far-forth you do like their articles?

P. John. I like them all, and do allow them well:
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.-

My lord, these griefs shall be with speed redress'd;
U pon my soul they shall. If this may please you,
Discharge your powers into 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.

¡dresses.

my

word:

Arch. I take your princely word for these re-
P. John. I give it you, and will maintain
And thereupon I drink unto your grace.
Hast. Go, captain, (to an Officer.) 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 Officer.
Arch. To you, my noble lord of Westmoreland.
West. I pledge your grace: And, if you knew
what pains
I have bestow'd, to breed this present peace,
You would drink freely: but my love to you
Shall shew itself more openly hereafter.

Arch. I do not doubt you.

West. I am glad of it.--Health to my lord, and gentle consin, Mowbray. Mob. You wish me health in very happy season; For I am, on the sudden, something ill.

Arch. Against ill chances, men are ever merry; But heaviness foreruns the good event. West. Therefore be merry, coz: since sudden

And, ere they be dismiss'd, let them march by. [Exit Hastings.

P. John. I trust, my lords, we shall lie to-night together.

Re-enter WESTMORELAND.

Now, cousin, wherefore stands our army still? West. The leaders, having charge from you to Will not go off until they hear you speak. [stand, P. John. They know their duties.

Re-enter HASTINGS.

Hast. My lord, our army is dispers'd already Like youthful steers unyok'd, they take their courses East, west, north, south; or, like a school broke пр, Each hurries towards his home, and sporting-place. West. 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.

Mob. Is this proceeding just and honourable?
West. Is your assembly so?

Arch. Will you thus break your faith?
I pawn'd thee none:

P. John.

I promis d 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.-
Strike up our drums, pursue the scatter'd stray;
Heaven, and not we, hath safely fought to-day-
Some guard these traitors to the block of death;
Treason's true bed, and yielder up of breath.

[Exeunt.

SCENE III-Another Part of the Forest. Alarums: Excursions. Enter FALSTAFF and COLEVILE, meeting.

Fal. What's your name, sir? of what condition are you; and of what place, I pray?

Cole. I am a knight, sir; and my name is-Cole vile of the dale.

Fal. Well then, Colevile is your name; a knight is your degree; and your place, the dale: Colevile shall still be your name; a traitor your degree; and the dungeon your place,-a place deep enough; so shall you still be Colevile of the dale.

Cole. Are not you sir John Falstaff?

Fal. 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 drops of thy lovers, and they weep for thy death: therefore rouse up fear and trembling, and do observance to my mercy.

Cole. I think, you are sir John Falstaff; and, in that thought, yield me.

Fal. 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 undoes me Here comes our general.

Enter Prince JOHN of Lancaster, WESTMORELAND, and others.

P. John. The heat is past, follow no further

Fal. 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 imma-
calate valour, taken sir John Colevile 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.
[deserving.
P. John. It was more of his courtesy than your
Fal. 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 of it, Colevile kissing my
foot: To the which course if I be enforced, if you
do not all shew like gilt two-pences 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
shew like pins' heads to her; believe not the word
of the noble : Therefore let me have right, and let
Jesert mount.

P. John. Thine's too heavy to mount.
Fal. Let it shine then.

P. John. Thine's too thick to shine.

Fal. Let it do something, my good lord, that may dome good, and call it what you will. P. Juhn. Is thy name Colevile?

Cole.

It is, my lord. P. John. A famous rebel art thou, Colevile. Fal. And a famous true subject took him. Cole. I am, my lord, but as my betters are, That led me hither: had they been rul'd by me, You should have won them dearer than you have. Fal. I know not how they sold themselves: but thou, like a kind fellow, gavest thyself away, and I thank thee for thee.

Re-enter WESTMORELAND.

P. John. Now, have you left pursuit?
West. Retreat is made, and execution stay'd.
P. Jekn. Send Colevile, with his confederates,
To York, to present execution :-
Bloat, lead him hence; and see you guard him sure.
[Exeunt some with Colevile.

And now despatch we toward the court, my lords;
I bear, the king my father is sore sick:
Oer news shall go before us to his majesty,-
Which, cousin, you shall bear,-to comfort him;
And we with sober speed will follow you.

Fal. My lord, I beseech you, give me leave to go through Glostershire: and when you come to court, stand my good lord, 'pray, in your good report.

P. John. Fare you well, Falstaff: I, in my condition,

Stall better speak of you than you deserve. [Exit. Fal. I would, you had but the wit; 'twere better than your dukedom.-Good faith, this same young suber-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 any of these demure boys come to any proof: for thin drink doth so over-cool their blood, and making many 6sh meals, that they fall into a kind of male greensickness, and then, when they marry, they get Wenches; they are generally fools and cowards;which some of us should be too, but for inflamEation. A good sherris-sack hath a two-fold operato 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 deliver'd o'er to the voice, (the tongue,) which is the birth, becomes excellent wit. The second property of your excellent sherris 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 sherris warms it, and makes it course from the inwards to the parts extreme. It illumineth the face; wach, 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 this retinue, doth any deed of courage; and this valour comes of sherris: 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, steril and bare land, manured, husbanded, and tilled, with excellent endeavour of drinking good, and good store of fertile sherris; 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 addict themselves to sack. Enter BARDOLPH.

How now, Bardolph ?

Bard. The army is discharged all, and gone.

Fal. Let them go. I'll through Glostershire: 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. SCENE IV.-Westminster. A Room in the Palace. Enter King HENRY, CLARENCE, Prince HUMPHREY, WARWICK, and others.

K. Hen. Now, lords, if heaven 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 address'd, our power collected,
Our substitutes in absence well invested,
And every thing lies level to our wish:
Only, we want a little personal strength;
And pause us, till these rebels, not afoot,
Come underneath the yoke of government.
War. Both which, we doubt not but your majesty
Shall soon enjoy.

K. Hen.

Humphrey, my son of Gloster, Where is the prince your brother?" P Humph. I think, he's gone to hunt, my lord, at Windsor.

K. Hen. And how accompanied?

P. Humph.

I do not know, my lord.

K. Hen. Is not his brother, Thomas of Clarence,

with him?

[here.

P. Humph. No, my good lord; he is in presence
Cla. What would my lord and father?
K. Hen. Nothing but well to thee, Thomas of
Clarence.
(brother?
How chance, thou art not with the prince thy
He loves thee, and thou dost neglect him, Thomas;
Thou hast a better place in his affection,
Than all your brothers: cherish it, my boy;
And noble offices thou may'st effect
Of mediation, after I am dead,
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 observ'd;
He hath a tear for pity, and a hand
Open as day for melting charity:
Yet notwithstanding, being incens'd, he's flint;
As humorous as winter, and as sudden
As flaws congealed in the spring of day.
His temper, therefore, must be well observ'd:
Chide him for faults, and do it reverently,
When you perceive his blood inclin'd 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 I do work as strong
As aconitum, or rash gunpowder.

Cla. I shall observe him with all care and love.
K. Hen. Why art thou not at Windsor with him,
Thomas?

Cla. He is not there to-day; he dines in London. K. Hen. And how accompanied? canst thou tell that? [lowers.

Cla. With Poins, and other his continual folK. Hen. Most subject is the fattest soil to weeds; And he, the noble image of my youth,

you

Is overspread with them: Therefore my grief
Stretches itself beyond the hour of death;
The blood weeps from my heart, when I do shape,
lu forms imaginary, the unguided days,
And rotten times, that
shall look upon
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 oppos'd decay!

War. My gracious lord, you look beyond him The prince but studies his companions, [quite: Like a strange tongue: wherein, to gain the lan

guage,

"Tis needful, that the most immodest word

Be look'd upon, and learn'd; which once attain'd,
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 others;
Turning past evils to advantages.

(her comb K. Hen. "Tis seldom, when the bee doth leave In the dead carrion.-Who's here? Westmoreland?

Enter WESTMORELAND.

West. Health to my sovereign! and new happiness Added to that, that I am to deliver! Prince John, your son, doth kiss your grace's hand: Mowbray, the bishop Scroop, Hastings, and all, Are brought to the correction of your law; There is not now a rebel's sword unsheath'd, But peace puts forth her olive every where. The manner how this action hath been borne, Here at more leisure may your highness read; With every course, in his particular.

(bird, K. Hen. O Westmoreland, thou art a summer Which ever in the haunch of winter sings The lifting up of day. Look! here's more news.

Enter HARCOURT

Har. 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.

K. Hen. 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 :-
O me! come near me, now I am much ill. (Swoons.)
P. Humph. Comfort, your majesty!
Cla.
O my royal father!
West. My sovereign lord, cheer up yourself, look

War. Be patient, princes; you do know, these fits
Are with his highness very ordinary.
Stand from him, give him air; he'll straight be well.
Cla. No, no; he cannot long hold out these pangs;
The 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.
P. Humph. The people fear me; for they do
observe

Unfather'd heirs, and loathly birds of nature:
The seasons change their manners, as the year
Had found some months asleep, and leap'd them

over.

Cla. The river bath thrice flow'd, no ebb between: And the old folk, time's doting chronicles, Say, it did so, a little time before That our great grandsire, Edward, sick'd and died. War. Speak lower princes, for the king recovers. P. Humph. This apoplex will, certain, be his end K. Hen. I pray you, take me up, and bear me hence

Into some other chamber: softly, pray.

(They convey the King into an inner part of the room, and place him on a bed) Let there be no noise made, my gentle friends; Unless some dull and favourable hand Will whisper music to my weary spirit.

War. Call for music in the other room.
K. Hen. Set me the crown upon my pillow here.
Cla. His eye is hollow, and he changes much.
War. Less noise, less noise.

prince, speak low;

: - sweet

The king your father is dispos'd to sleep.
Cla. Let us withdraw into the other room. [us?
War. Will't please your grace to go along with
P. Hen. No; I will sit and watch here by the
king.
[Exeunt all but P. Henry.
Why doth the crown lie there upon his pillow,
Being so troublesome a bedfellow?
O polish'd 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 biggin 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 scalds 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 divore'd'
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. Lo, here it sits,-

(Putting it on his head.) Which heaven 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.