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this is ? Why, my Lord of York commends the plot, and the general course of the action. By this hand, if I were now by this rascal, I could brain him with his Lady's fan. Is there not my father, my uncle, and myself, Lord Edmund Mortimer, my Lord of York, and Owen Glendower? Is there not, befides, the Douglas? Have I not all their let ters, to meet me in arms by the ninth of next month and are there not some of themset forward already? What a Pagan rascal is this! an infidel. Ha! you shall fee now, in very fincerity of fear and cold heart, will he to the King, and lay open all our proceedings. O, I could divide myself, and go to buffets, for moving fuch a dish of skimmed milk with so honourable an action. Hang him, let him tell the King. We are prepared, I will set forward to-night.
CH A P. XVI.
HENRY IV, SOLILOQUY ON SLEEP.
ow many thousands of my poorest subjects HA
Are at this hour asleep!: O gentle Sleep,
Nature's soft nurse, how have I frighted thee,
That thou no more wilt weigh my eye-lids down,
And iteep my senses in forgetfulness !
Why rather, Sleep, lay'st thou in smoaky cribs, :
Upon uneasy pallets ftretching thee,
And huih'd with buzzing night-flies to thy slumber;
Than in the perfum'd chambers of the great,
Under the canopies of costly itate,
And lull'd with sounds of sweetest melody?
O thou dull god, why lay'st thou with the vile
In loathsome beds, and leav'st the kingly couch,
A watch-case to a common larum bell?
Wilt thou, upon the high and giddy mast,
Seal up the ship-boy's eyes, and rock his braine,
In cradle of the rude imperious furge ;
And in the visitation of the winds,
Who take the ruffian billows by the top,
Curling their monstrous heads, and hanging them
With deafʼning clamours in the flipp’ry shrouds,
That, with the hurly, death itself awakes :
Canst thou, O partial Sleep, give thy repose
To the wet sea. boy in an hour fo rude;
And, in the calmest and the stillest night,
With all appliances and means to boot,
Deny it to a king? Then, happy lowly clown ;
Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown.
HENRY IV. AND PRINCE HENRY.
P. HENRY. I NEVER thought to hear you speak again.
K. HENRY. Thy wish was father, Harry,
to that thought.
I stay too long by thee, I weary thee.
Dost thou so hunger for my empty chair,
That thou wilt needs invest thee with my honours,
Before thy hour be ripe! O foolish youth !
Thou seek'st the greatuess 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 stol'n that, which after some few hours,
Were thine without offence; and at my death
Thou haft sealed up my expectation;
Thy life did manifeft, thou lov'dit me not;
And thou wilt have me die assurd of it.
Thou hid'st a thousand daggers in thy thoughts,
Which thou hast whetted on thy stony heart,
To ftab at half an hour of my frail 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
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 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 assemble now,
From ev'ry region, apes of idleness:
Now, neighbour confines, purge you of your scum ;
Have you a ruffian that will swear? drink? dance ?
Revel the night! rob? murder? and commit
The oldest fins the newest kind of ways ?
Be happy, he will trouble you no more ::
England shall give him office, honour, might:
For the Fifth Harry from curb'd licence plucks
The muzzle of restraint! and the wild dog
Shall Aeh his tooth on every innocent.
O my poor kingdom, fick with civil blows !
When that my care could not with-hold thy riots,
What wilt thou do when riot is thy care ? 1, thou wilt be a wilderness again, Peopled with wolves, thy old inhabitants.
P. HENRY. O pardon me, my Liege! but for my tears (The moist impediments unto my speech) I had forestall'd this dear and deep rebuke, Ere you with grief had fpoke, and I had heard The course of it fo far. There is your crown; And he that wears the crown immortally, Long guard it your's! 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 proftrate and exterior bending. Heav'n 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 Thew 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 the 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 worft of gold ; Other lefs-fine in carrat, is more precious, Preserving life in med'cine potable; But thou, moft fine, most honour'd, most renown'd, Haft eat thy bearer up. Thus, Royal Liege, Accusing 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 swell my thoughts to any strain of pride,
If any rebel or vain fpirit of mine
Did with the least affection of a welcome
Give entertainment to the might of it:
Let Heav'n for ever keep it from my head,
And make me as the poorest vassal is,
That doth with awe and terror kneel to it!
K. Henry. O my son !
Heay'n put it in thy mind to take it hence,
That thou might'it win the more thy father's love,
Pleading so wisely in excuse of it,
Come hither, Harry, fit thou by my bed ;
And hear, I think, the very latest .counsel.
That ever I shall breathe. Heav'n knows, my fan,
By what by-paths, and indirect erook'd ways
I met this crown; and I myself know well,
How troublesome it sat upon my
To thee it fhall descend with better quiet,
Better opinion, better confirmation:
For all the soil of the atchievement goes
With me into the earth. It seem'd in me
But as an honour snatch'd with boist'rous hand,
And I had many living to upbraid
My gain of it by their aslistances;
Which daily grew to quarrel and to bloodthed,
Wounding supposed peace. All their bold feats,
Thou seeft, with peril I have answer'd.
For all my reign hath been but as a scene
Acting that argument: and now my death