# Henry IV Part 2 (1921) Yale/Text/Act IV

Notes originally placed at the bottom of each page appear below, following Act IV. Where these notes gloss a word in the text, the gloss can also be found by hovering over the text.
Where these notes refer to an end note (cf. n. = confer notam; "consult note"), a link to the accompanying end note is provided from the Footnotes section. The end notes accompanying Act IV begin on page 133 of the original volume.
Layout 2
ACT FOURTH
Scene One
Enter the Archbishop, Mowbray, [Lord] Bardolph, Hastings, within the Forest of Gaultree.
Arch. What is this forest call'd?
Hast. 'Tis Gaultree Forest, an 't shall please your Grace.
Arch. Here stand, my lords, and send discoverers forth, To know the numbers of our enemies. 4
Hast. We have sent forth already.
Arch.'Tis well done. My friends and brethren in these great affairs, I must acquaint you that I have receiv'd New-dated letters from Northumberland; 8 ​Their cold intent, tenour and substance, thus: Here doth he wish his person, with such powers As might hold sortance with his quality; The which he could not levy; whereupon 12 He is retir'd, to ripe his growing fortunes, To Scotland; and concludes in hearty prayers That your attempts may overlive the hazard And fearful meeting of their opposite. 16
Mowb. Thus do the hopes we have in him touch ground And dash themselves to pieces.
Enter a Messenger.
Hast.Now, what news?
Mess. West of this forest, scarcely off a mile, In goodly form comes on the enemy; 20 And, by the ground they hide, I judge their number Upon or near the rate of thirty thousand.
Mowb. The just proportion that we gave them out. Let us sway on and face them in the field. 24
Enter Westmoreland.
Arch. What well-appointed leader fronts us here?
Mowb. I think it is my Lord of Westmoreland.
West. Health and fair greeting from our general, The Prince, Lord John and Duke of Lancaster. 28
Arch. Say on, my Lord of Westmoreland, in peace, What doth concern your coming.
West.Then, my lord, Unto your Grace do I in chief address The substance of my speech. If that rebellion 32 Came like itself, in base and abject routs, ​Led on by bloody youth, guarded with rags, And countenanc'd by boys and beggary; I say, if damn'd commotion so appear'd, 36 In his true, native, and most proper shape, You, reverend father, and these noble lords Had not been here, to dress the ugly form Of base and bloody insurrection 40 With your fair honours. You, lord archbishop, Whose see is by a civil peace maintain'd, Whose beard the silver hand of peace hath touch'd, Whose learning and good letters peace hath tutor'd, 44 Whose white investments figure innocence, The dove and very blessed spirit of peace, Wherefore do you so ill translate yourself Out of the speech of peace that bears such grace 48 Into the harsh and boisterous tongue of war; Turning your books to greaves, your ink to blood, Your pens to lances, and your tongue divine To a loud trumpet and a point of war? 52
Arch. Wherefore do I this? so the question stands. Briefly to this end: we are all diseas'd; And, with our surfeiting and wanton hours Have brought ourselves into a burning fever, 56 And we must bleed for it: of which disease Our late king, Richard, being infected, died. But, my most noble Lord of Westmoreland, I take not on me here as a physician, 60 Nor do I as an enemy to peace Troop in the throngs of military men; But rather show a while like fearful war, To diet rank minds sick of happiness 64 And purge the obstructions which begin to stop Our very veins of life. Hear me more plainly: ​I have in equal balance justly weigh'd What wrongs our arms may do, what wrongs we suffer, 68 And find our griefs heavier than our offences. We see which way the stream of time doth run And are enforc'd from our most quiet sphere By the rough torrent of occasion; 72 And have the summary of all our griefs, When time shall serve, to show in articles, Which long ere this we offer'd to the king, And might by no suit gain our audience. 76 When we are wrong'd and would unfold our griefs, We are denied access unto his person Even by those men that most have done us wrong. The dangers of the days but newly gone,— 80 Whose memory is written on the earth With yet appearing blood,—and the examples Of every minute's instance, present now, Have put us in these ill-beseeming arms; 84 Not to break peace, or any branch of it, But to establish here a peace indeed, Concurring both in name and quality.
West. When ever yet was your appeal denied? 88 Wherein have you been galled by the king? What peer hath been suborn'd to grate on you, That you should seal this lawless bloody book Of forg'd rebellion with a seal divine, 92 And consecrate commotion's bitter edge?
Arch. My brother general, the commonwealth, To brother born an household cruelty, I make my quarrel in particular. 96
West. There is no need of any such redress; Or if there were, it not belongs to you.
​Mowb. Why not to him in part, and to us all That feel the bruises of the days before, 100 And suffer the condition of these times To lay a heavy and unequal hand Upon our honours?
West.O! my good Lord Mowbray, Construe the times to their necessities, 104 And you shall say indeed, it is the time, And not the king, that doth you injuries. Yet, for your part, it not appears to me Either from the king or in the present time 108 That you should have an inch of any ground To build a grief on: were you not restor'd To all the Duke of Norfolk's signories, Your noble and right well-remember'd father's? 112
Mowb. What thing, in honour, had my father lost, That need to be reviv'd and breath'd in me? The king that lov'd him as the state stood then, Was force perforce compell'd to banish him: 116 And then that Harry Bolingbroke and he, Being mounted and both roused in their seats, Their neighing coursers daring of the spur, Their armed staves in charge, their beavers down, 120 Their eyes of fire sparkling through sights of steel, And the loud trumpet blowing them together, Then, then when there was nothing could have stay'd My father from the breast of Bolingbroke, 124 O! when the king did throw his warder down, His own life hung upon the staff he threw; Then threw he down himself and all their lives That by indictment and by dint of sword 128 ​Have since miscarried under Bolingbroke.
West. You speak, Lord Mowbray, now you know not what. The Earl of Hereford was reputed then In England the most valiant gentleman: 132 Who knows on whom Fortune would then have smil'd? But if your father had been victor there, He ne'er had borne it out of Coventry; For all the country in a general voice 136 Cried hate upon him; and all their prayers and love Were set on Hereford, whom they doted on And bless'd and grac'd indeed, more than the king. But this is mere digression from my purpose. 140 Here come I from our princely general To know your griefs; to tell you from his Grace That he will give you audience; and wherein It shall appear that your demands are just, 144 You shall enjoy them; everything set off That might so much as think you enemies.
Mowb. But he hath forc'd us to compel this offer, And it proceeds from policy, not love. 148
West. Mowbray, you overween to take it so. This offer comes from mercy, not from fear: For, lo! within a ken our army lies Upon mine honour, all too confident 152 To give admittance to a thought of fear. Our battle is more full of names than yours, Our men more perfect in the use of arms, Our armour all as strong, our cause the best; 156 Then reason will our hearts should be as good: ​Say you not then our offer is compell'd.
Mowb. Well, by my will we shall admit no parley.
West. That argues but the shame of your offence: 160 A rotten case abides no handling.
Hast. Hath the Prince John a full commission, In very ample virtue of his father, To hear and absolutely to determine 164 Of what conditions we shall stand upon?
West. That is intended in the general's name. I muse you make so slight a question.
Arch. Then take, my Lord of Westmoreland, this schedule, 168 For this contains our general grievances: Each several article herein redress'd; All members of our cause, both here and hence, That are insinew'd to this action, 172 Acquitted by a true substantial form; And present execution of our wills To us and to our purposes consign'd; We come within our awfull banks again 176 And knit our powers to the arm of peace.
West. This will I show the general. Please you, lords, In sight of both our battles we may meet; And either end in peace, which God so frame! 180 Or to the place of difference call the swords Which must decide it.
Arch.My lord, we will do so.
Exit Westmoreland.
Mowb. There is a thing within my bosom tells me That no conditions of our peace can stand. 184
​Hast. Fear you not that: if we can make our peace Upon such large terms, and so absolute As our conditions shall consist upon, Our peace shall stand as firm as rocky mountains. 188
Mowb. Yea, but our valuation shall be such That every slight and false-derived cause, Yea, every idle, nice, and wanton reason Shall to the king taste of this action; 192 That, were our royal faiths martyrs in love, We shall be winnow'd with so rough a wind That even our corn shall seem as light as chaff And good from bad find no partition. 196
Arch. No, no, my lord. Note this; the king is weary Of dainty and such picking grievances: For he hath found to end one doubt by death Revives two greater in the heirs of life; 200 And therefore will he wipe his tables clean, And keep no tell-tale to his memory That may repeat and history his loss To new remembrance; for full well he knows 204 He cannot so precisely weed this land As his misdoubts present occasion: His foes are so enrooted with his friends That, plucking to unfix an enemy, 208 He doth unfasten so and shake a friend. So that this land, like an offensive wife, That hath enrag'd him on to offer strokes, As he is striking, holds his infant up 212 And hangs resolv'd correction in the arm That was uprear'd to execution.
​Hast. Besides, the king hath wasted all his rods On late offenders, that he now doth lack 216 The very instruments of chastisement; So that his power, like to a fangless lion, May offer, but not hold.
Arch.'Tis very true: And therefore be assur'd, my good lord marshal, 220 If we do now make our atonement well, Our peace will, like a broken limb united, Grow stronger for the breaking.
Mowb.Be it so. Here is return'd my Lord of Westmoreland. 224
Enter Westmoreland.
West. The prince is here at hand: pleaseth your lordship, To meet his Grace just distance 'tween our armies?
Mowb. Your Grace of York, in God's name then, set forward.
Arch. Before, and greet his Grace: my lord, we come. 228
Scene Two
[The Same]
Enter Prince John of Lancaster and his army.
Lanc. You are well encounter'd here, my cousin Mowbray: Good day to you, gentle lord archbishop; And so to you, Lord Hastings, and to all. My Lord of York, it better show'd with you. 4 When that your flock, assembled by the bell, ​Encircled you to hear with reverence Your exposition on the holy text Than now to see you here an iron man, 8 Cheering a rout of rebels with your drum, Turning the word to sword and life to death. That man that sits within a monarch's heart And ripens in the sunshine of his favour, 12 Would he abuse the countenance of the king, Alack! what mischiefs might he set abroach In shadow of such greatness. With you, lord bishop, It is even so. Who hath not heard it spoken 16 How deep you were within the books of God? To us the speaker in his parliament; To us the imagin'd voice of God himself; The very opener and intelligencer 20 Between the grace, the sanctities of heaven, And our dull workings. O! who shall believe But you misuse the reverence of your place, Employ the countenance and grace of heaven, 24 As a false favourite doth his prince's name, In deeds dishonourable? You have taken up, Under the counterfeited zeal of God, The subjects of his substitute, my father; 28 And both against the peace of heaven and him Have here upswarm'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, 32 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,— 36 ​The which hath been with scorn shov'd from the court,— 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, 40 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, 44 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 48 Whiles England shall have generation.
Lanc. You are too shallow, Hastings, much too shallow, To sound the bottom of the after-times.
West. Pleaseth your Grace, to answer them directly 52 How far forth you do like their articles.
Lanc. 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, 56 And some about him have too lavishly Wrested his meaning and authority. My lord, these griefs shall be with speed redress'd; Upon my soul, they shall. If this may please you, 60 Discharge your powers unto 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 64 Of our restored love and amity.
​Arch. I take your princely word for these redresses.
Lanc. I give it you, and will maintain my word: And thereupon I drink unto your Grace. 68
Hast. [To an Officer.] Go, captain, 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. 72
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 show itself more openly hereafter. 76
Arch. I do not doubt you.
West.I am glad of it. Health to my lord and gentle cousin, Mowbray.
Mowb. You wish me health in very happy season; For I am, on the sudden, something ill. 80
Arch. Against ill chances men are ever merry, But heaviness foreruns the good event.
West. Therefore be merry, coz; since sudden sorrow Serves to say thus, Some good thing comes to-morrow. 84
Arch. Believe me, I am passing light in spirit.
Mowb. So much the worse if your own rule be true. Shout [within].
Lanc. The word of peace is render'd: hark, how they shout!
Mowb. This had been cheerful, after victory. 88
​Arch. A peace is of the nature of a conquest; For then both parties nobly are subdu'd, And neither party loser.
Lanc.Go, my lord, And let our army be discharged too. 92
Exit [Westmoreland].
And, good my lord, so please you, let our trains March by us, that we may peruse the men We should have cop'd withal.
Arch. Go, good Lord Hastings, 96 And, ere they be dismiss'd, let them march by.
Exit [Hastings].
Lanc. I trust, lords, we shall lie to-night together.
Enter Westmoreland.
Now, cousin, wherefore stands our army still?
West. The leaders, having charge from you to stand, 100 Will not go off until they hear you speak.
Lanc. They know their duties.
Enter Hastings.
Hast. My lord, our army is dispers'd already: Like youthful steers unyok'd, they take their courses 104 East, west, north, south; or, like a school broke up, Each hurries toward his home and sporting-place.
West. Good tidings, my Lord Hastings; for the which I do arrest thee, traitor, of high treason: 108 And you, lord archbishop, and you, Lord Mowbray, Of capital treason I attach you both.
Mowb. Is this proceeding just and honourable?
West. Is your assembly so? 112
​Arch. Will you thus break your faith?
Lanc.I pawn'd thee none. 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. 116 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. 120 Strike up our drums! pursue the scatter'd stray: God, 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. 124
Exeunt.
Scene Three
[Another Part of the Forest]
Alarums. Excursions. Enter Falstaff and Colevile.
Fal. What's your name, sir? of what con- dition are you, and of what place, I pray?
Cole. I am a knight, sir; and my name is Colevile of the dale. 4
Fal. Well then, Colevile is your name, a knight is your degree, and your place the dale: Colevile shall be still your name, a traitor your degree, and the dungeon your place, a place 8 deep enough; so shall you be still Colevile of the dale.
Cole. Are not you Sir John Falstaff?
Fal. As good a man as he, sir, whoe'er I am. 12 Do ye yield, sir, or shall I sweat for you? If ​I do sweat, they are the drops of thy lovers, and they weep for thy death: therefore rouse up fear and trembling, and do observance to 16 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 20 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 24 womb, my womb undoes me. Here comes our general.
Enter Prince John, Westmoreland and the rest.
Lanc. The heat is past, follow no further now. Call in the powers, good cousin Westmoreland. 28 [Exit Westmoreland.] Now, Falstaff, where have you been all this while? When everything is ended, then you come: These tardy tricks of yours will, on my life, One time or other break some gallows' back. 32
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 36 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, 40 have, in my pure and immaculate 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 44 with the hook-nosed fellow of Rome, 'I came, saw, and overcame.'
Lanc. It was more of his courtesy than your deserving. 48
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 52 mine own picture on the top on 't, Colevile kissing my foot. To the which course if I be enforced, if you do not all show like gilt two- pences to me, and I in the clear sky of fame 56 o'ershine you as much as the full moon doth the cinders of the element, which show like pins' heads to her, believe not the word of the noble. Therefore let me have right, and let desert 60 mount.
Lanc. Thine's too heavy to mount.
Fal. Let it shine then.
Lanc. Thine's too thick to shine. 64
Fal. Let it do something, my good lord, that may do me good, and call it what you will.
Lanc. Is thy name Colevile?
Cole. It is, my lord. 68
Lanc. 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 72 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 gratis, and I thank thee for thee. 76
Enter Westmoreland.
Lanc. Now, have you left pursuit?
West. Retreat is made and execution stay'd.
Lanc. Send Colevile with his confederates To York, to present execution. 80 Blunt, lead him hence, and see you guard him sure. Exit [Blunt] with Colevile. And now dispatch we toward the court, my lords: I hear, the king my father is sore sick: Our news shall go before us to his majesty, 84 Which, cousin [addressing Westmoreland], 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 Gloucestershire, and when you come to court 88 Stand my good lord, pray, in your good report.
Lanc. Fare you well, Falstaff: I, in my condition, Shall better speak of you than you deserve.
[Exeunt all but Falstaff.]
Fal. I would you had but the wit: 'twere 92 better than your dukedom. Good faith, this same young sober-blooded boy doth not love me; nor a man cannot make him laugh; but that's no marvel, he drinks no wine. There's 96 never none of these demure boys come to any proof; for thin drink doth so over-cool their blood, and making many fish-meals, that they fall into a kind of male green-sickness; and then, 100 ​when they marry, they get wenches. They are generally fools and cowards, which some of us should be too but for inflammation. A good sherris-sack hath a two-fold operation in it. 104 It ascends me into the brain; dries me there all the foolish and dull and crudy vapours which environ it; makes it apprehensive, quick, forget- ive, full of nimble, fiery and delectable shapes; 108 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 112 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 116 the face, which, 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, 120 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 learn- 124 ing, 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 128 his father, he hath, like lean, sterile, and bare land, manured, husbanded, and tilled, with ex- cellent endeavour of drinking good and good store of fertile sherris, that he is become very 132 hot and valiant. If I had a thousand sons, the ​first human principle I would teach them should be, to forswear thin potations and to addict themselves to sack. 136
Enter Bardolph.
How now, Bardolph?
Bard. The army is discharged all and gone.
Fal. Let them go. I'll through Gloucester- shire; and there will I visit Master Robert 140 Shallow, esquire: I have him already tempering between my finger and my thumb, and shortly will I seal with him. Come away. Exeunt.
Scene Four
[Westminster. The Jerusalem Chamber]
Enter the King, Warwick, Thomas Duke of Clarence, Humphrey of Gloucester [and others].
King. Now, lords, if God 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. 4 Our navy is address'd, our power collected, Our substitutes in absence well invested, And everything lies level to our wish: Only, we want a little personal strength; 8 And pause us, till these rebels, now afoot, Come underneath the yoke of government.
War. Both which we doubt not but your majesty Shall soon enjoy.
King.Humphrey, my son of Gloucester, 12 ​Where is the prince your brother?
Glo. I think he's gone to hunt, my lord, at Windsor.
King. And how accompanied?
Glo. I do not know, my lord.
King. Is not his brother Thomas of Clarence with him? 16
Glo. No, my good lord; he is in presence here.
Cla. What would my lord and father?
King. Nothing but well to thee, Thomas of Clarence. How chance thou art not with the prince thy brother? 20 He loves thee, and thou dost neglect him, Thomas; Thou hast a better place in his affection Than all thy brothers: cherish it, my boy, And noble offices thou mayst effect 24 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 28 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; 32 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: 36 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, 40 ​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, 44 Mingled with venom of suggestion— As, force perforce, the age will pour it in— Shall never leak, though it do work as strong As aconitum or rash gunpowder. 48
Cla. I shall observe him with all care and love.
King. Why art thou not at Windsor with him, Thomas?
Cla. He is not there to-day; he dines in London.
King. And how accompanied? canst thou tell that? 52
Cla. With Poins and other his continual followers.
King. Most subject is the fattest soil to weeds; And he, the noble image of my youth, Is overspread with them: therefore my grief 56 Stretches itself beyond the hour of death: The blood weeps from my heart when I do shape In forms imaginary the unguided days And rotten times that you shall look upon 60 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, 64 O! with what wings shall his affections fly Towards fronting peril and oppos'd decay.
War. My gracious lord, you look beyond him quite: The prince but studies his companions 68 Like a strange tongue, wherein, to gain the language, '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 72 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, 76 By which his Grace must mete the lives of others, Turning past evils to advantages.
King. 'Tis seldom when the bee doth leave her comb In the dead carrion.
Enter Westmoreland.
Who's here? Westmoreland! 80
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 84 Are brought to the correction of your law. There is not now a rebel's sword unsheath'd, But Peace puts forth her olive everywhere. The manner how this action hath been borne 88 Here at more leisure may your highness read, With every course in his particular.
King. O Westmoreland! thou art a summer bird, Which ever in the haunch of winter sings 92 The lifting up of day.
Enter Harcourt.
Look! here's more news.
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! 96
​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 100 This packet, please it you, contains at large.
King. 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? 104 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. 108 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.
Glo. Comfort, your majesty!
Cla. O my royal father! 112
West. My sovereign lord, cheer 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 straight be well. 116
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. 120
Glo. The people fear me; for they do observe Unfather'd heirs and loathly births of nature: The seasons change their manners, as the year ​Had found some months asleep and leap'd them over. 124
Cla. The river hath 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. 128
War. Speak lower, princes, for the king recovers.
Glo. This apoplexy will certain be his end.
King. I pray you take me up, and bear me hence Into some other chamber: softly, pray. 132
[Attendants and Lords take the King up, convey him into an inner room, and lay him upon a bed.]
Scene Five
[Another Chamber
King Henry lying on a bed: Clarence, Gloucester, Warwick, and Others in attendance.]
King. 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 the music in the other room. 4
King. Set me the crown upon my pillow here.
Cla. His eye is hollow, and he changes much.
War. Less noise, less noise!
Enter Prince Henry.
Prince.Who saw the Duke of Clarence?
Cla. I am here, brother, full of heaviness. 8
Prince. How now! rain within doors, and none abroad! ​How doth the king?
Glo.Exceeding ill.
Prince.Heard he the good news yet? Tell it him.
Glo. He alter'd much upon the hearing it. 12
Prince. If he be sick with joy, he'll recover without physic.
War. Not so much noise, my lords. Sweet prince, speak low; The king your father is dispos'd to sleep. 16
Cla. Let us withdraw into the other room.
War. Will 't please your Grace to go along with us?
Prince. No; I will sit and watch here by the king.
[Exeunt all but the Prince.]
Why doth the crown lie there upon his pillow, 20 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! 24 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 28 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 32 Perforce must move. My gracious lord! my father! This sleep is sound indeed; this is a sleep That from this golden rigol hath divorc'd So many English kings. Thy due from me 36 ​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, 40 Which, as immediate from thy place and blood, Derives itself to me. Lo! here it sits,
[Putting it on his head.]
Which God shall guard; and put the world's whole strength Into one giant arm, it shall not force 44 This lineal honour from me. This from thee Will I to mine leave, as 'tis left to me. Exit.
King. [Waking.] Warwick! Gloucester! Clarence!
Enter Warwick, Gloucester, Clarence [and the rest].
Cla. Doth the king call?
War. What would your majesty? How fares your Grace? 48
King. Why did you leave me here alone, my lords?
Cla. We left the prince my brother here, my liege, Who undertook to sit and watch by you.
King. The Prince of Wales! Where is he? let me see him: 52 He is not here.
War. This door is open; he is gone this way.
Glo. He came not through the chamber where we stay'd.
King. Where is the crown? who took it from my pillow? 56
War. When we withdrew, my liege, we left it here.
King. The prince hath ta'en it hence: go, seek him out. Is he so hasty that he doth suppose ​My sleep my death? 60 Find him, my Lord of Warwick; chide him hither.
[Exit Warwick.]
This part of his conjoins with my disease, And helps to end me. See, sons, what things you are! How quickly nature falls into revolt 64 When gold becomes her object! For this the foolish over-careful fathers Have broke their sleep with thoughts, Their brains with care, their bones with industry; 68 For this they have engrossed and pil'd up The canker'd heaps of strange-achieved gold; For this they have been thoughtful to invest Their sons with arts and martial exercises: 72 When, like the bee, culling from every flower The virtuous sweets, Our thighs packed with wax, our mouths with honey, We bring it to the hive, and like the bees, 76 Are murder'd for our pains. This bitter taste Yield his engrossments to the ending father.
Enter Warwick.
Now, where is he that will not stay so long Till his friend sickness hath determin'd me? 80
War. My lord, I found the prince in the next room, Washing with kindly tears his gentle cheeks, With such a deep demeanour in great sorrow That tyranny, which never quaff'd but blood, 84 Would, by beholding him, have wash'd his knife With gentle eye-drops. He is coming hither.
King. But wherefore did he take away the crown?
Enter Prince Henry.
Lo, where he comes. Come hither to me, Harry. 88 Depart the chamber, leave us here alone.
Exeunt [Warwick, and the rest].
Prince. I never thought to hear you speak again.
King. Thy wish was father, Harry, to that thought: I stay too long by thee, I weary thee. 92 Dost thou so hunger for mine empty chair That thou wilt needs invest thee with my honours Before thy hour be ripe? O foolish youth! Thou seek'st the greatness that will overwhelm thee. 96 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 hast stol'n that which after some few hours 100 Were thine without offence; and at my death Thou hast seal'd up my expectation: Thy life did manifest thou lov'dst me not, And thou wilt have me die assur'd of it. 104 Thou hid'st a thousand daggers in thy thoughts, Which thou hast whetted on thy stony heart, To stab at half an hour of my life. What! canst thou not forbear me half an hour? 108 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 my hearse 112 Be drops of balm to sanctify thy head: Only compound me with forgotten dust; Give that which gave thee life unto the worms. Pluck down my officers, break my decrees; 116 ​For now a time is come to mock at form. Harry the Fifth is crown'd! Up, vanity! Down, royal state! all you sage counsellors, hence! And to the English court assemble now, 120 From every 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 124 The oldest sins the newest kind of ways? Be happy, he will trouble you no more: England shall double gild his treble guilt. England shall give him office, honour, might; 128 For the fifth Harry from curb'd licence plucks The muzzle of restraint, and the wild dog Shall flesh his tooth in every innocent. my poor kingdom! sick with civil blows, 132 When that my care could not withhold thy riots, What wilt thou do when riot is thy care? O! thou wilt be a wilderness again, Peopled with wolves, thy old inhabitants. 136
Prince. 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 spoke and I had heard 140 The course of it so far. There is your crown; And he that wears the crown immortally Long guard it yours! If I affect it more Than as your honour and as your renown, 144 Let me no more from this obedience rise,— Which my most inward, true, and duteous spirit Teacheth,—this prostrate and exterior bending. God witness with me, when I here came in, 148 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 show the incredulous world 152 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, 156 And thus upbraided it: 'The care on thee depending Hath fed upon the body of my father; Therefore, thou best of gold art worst of gold: Other, less fine in carat, is more precious, 160 Preserving life in medicine potable: But thou most fine, most honour'd, most renown'd, Hast eat thy bearer up.' Thus, my most royal liege, Accusing it, I put it on my head, 164 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, 168 Or swell my thoughts to any strain of pride; If any rebel or vain spirit of mine Did with the least affection of a welcome Give entertainment to the might of it, 172 Let God for ever keep it from my head, And make me as the poorest vassal is That doth with awe and terror kneel to it!
King. O my son! 176 God put it in thy mind to take it hence, That thou mightst win the more thy father's love, Pleading so wisely in excuse of it. Come hither, Harry: sit thou by my bed; 180 And hear, I think, the very latest counsel That ever I shall breathe. God knows, my son, ​By what by-paths and indirect crook'd ways I met this crown; and I myself know well 184 How troublesome it sat upon my head: To thee it shall descend with better quiet, Better opinion, better confirmation; For all the soil of the achievement goes 188 With me into the earth. It seem'd in me But as an honour snatch'd with boisterous hand, And I had many living to upbraid My gain of it by their assistances; 192 Which daily grew to quarrel and to bloodshed, Wounding supposed peace. All these bold fears Thou seest with peril I have answered; For all my reign hath been but as a scene 196 Acting that argument; and now my death Changes the mode: for what in me was purchas'd, Falls upon thee in a more fairer sort; So thou the garment wear'st successively. 200 Yet, though thou stand'st more sure than I could do, Thou art not firm enough, since griefs are green; And all my friends, which thou must make thy friends, Have but their stings and teeth newly ta'en out; 204 By whose fell working I was first advanc'd, And by whose power I well might lodge a fear To be again displac'd: which to avoid, I cut them off; and had a purpose now 208 To lead out many to the Holy Land, Lest rest and lying still might make them look Too near unto my state. Therefore, my Harry, Be it thy course to busy giddy minds 212 With foreign quarrels; that action, hence borne out, ​May waste the memory of the former days. More would I, but my lungs are wasted so That strength of speech is utterly denied me. 216 How I came by the crown, O God, forgive! And grant it may with thee in true peace live.
Prince. My gracious liege, You won it, wore it, kept it, gave it me; 220 Then plain and right must my possession be: Which I with more than with a common pain 'Gainst all the world will rightfully maintain.
Enter Lord John of Lancaster, and Warwick.
King. Look, look, here comes my John of Lancaster. 224
Lanc. Health, peace, and happiness to my royal father!
King. Thou bring'st me happiness and peace, son John; But health, alack, with youthful wings is flown From this bare wither'd trunk: upon thy sight 228 My worldly business makes a period. Where is my Lord of Warwick?
Prince.My Lord of Warwick!
[Warwick comes forward.]
King. Doth any name particular belong Unto the lodging where I first did swound? 232
War. 'Tis call'd Jerusalem, my noble lord.
King. Laud be to God! even there my life must end. It hath been prophesied to me many years I should not die but in Jerusalem, 236 Which vainly I suppos'd the Holy Land. But bear me to that chamber; there I'll lie: In that Jerusalem shall Harry die. Exeunt.
Footnotes to Act IV
Scene One
​ ​11 hold sortance: be in accord quality: rank 20 form : formation 23 just proportion: exact size gave them out: described them 33 routs: gangs ​34 guarded: decked 52 point: trumpet signal ​69 griefs: grievances 93 commotion's: insurrection's 94-96 Cf. n. ​104 to: according to 114 breath'd: given breath of life 117 ff. Cf. n. 120 armed staves: lances in charge: in rest for the charge beavers: movable fronts of the helmets 121 sights: eyeholes of the helmet 125 warder: staff of command ​129 miscarried: perished 131 Earl of Hereford: King Henry, actually Duke of Hereford at the time of his banishment (cf. Richard II, I. iii. 21) 145 set off: ignored 149 overween: are arrogant 151 within a ken: within seeing distance 154 names: noble and soldierly names ​163 In . . . virtue: by complete authority 166 intended: implied 167 muse: wonder slight: trivial 172 insinew'd: joined as by sinews 175 consign'd; cf. n. 176 awful: respectful, reverential ​189 our valuation: the king's estimation of us 191 nice: trivial 198 picking: fastidious 206 misdoubts: suspicions 213 hangs: suspends resolv'd correction: chastisement which had been determined upon ​219 offer: attack 221 atonement: reconciliation 228 Before: go before me
Scene Two
​Scene Two; cf. n. ​20 intelligencer: interpreter 22 workings: actions 26 taken up: levied ​47 success: succession ​70 part: depart 81 Against: when about to face 82 heaviness: depression 85 passing: exceedingly 87 render'd: reported ​94 peruse: inspect ​113 pawn'd: pledged 119 shallowly: thoughtlessly 120 Fondly: foolishly
Scene Three
​1 condition: rank ​16 observance: homage 23 indifferency: moderate size 27 heat: race, pursuit 34 check: reproof 37 expedition: speed 40 posts: post-horses ​58 cinders: glowing coals, stars element: sky ​ ​101 get wenches: beget girls 104 sherris-sack: sherry 106 crudy: crude, raw 107 forgetive: inventive 125 Cf. n. ​141-143 tempering . . . seal: the allusion is to sealing-wax
Scene Four
​Scene Four S. d. Jerusalem Chamber; cf. n. 5 address'd: prepared 6 invested: invested with authority ​27 omit: neglect 30 observ'd: humored 33-35 Cf. n. ​41 Confound: exhaust 44-48 Cf. n. 65 affections: inclinations 67 look beyond: misjudge ​77 mete: measure 79, 80 Cf. n. 90 particular: detail 92 haunch: end ​105 stomach: appetite 119 wrought the mure: worn the wall 121 fear: frighten 122 (Such portents as) creatures born without parents and other monstrosities 123 as: as if ​
Scene Five
​2 dull: soothing, drowsy ​ ​41 immediate: next in line ​62 part: act 69 engrossed: amassed 70 canker'd: tarnished strange-achieved: gained in foreign lands 74 virtuous: beneficial 80 determin'd: ended 82 kindly: natural ​102 seal'd up: confirmed fully ​117 form: order 118 vanity: folly 134 care: special study 139 dear: earnest 143 affect: aspire to ​161 medicine potable; cf. n. ​188 soil: pollution 197 argument: story 198 mode; cf. n. purchas'd: acquired by my own act, not inherited 200 successively: by right of succession 213 hence: in other lands ​214 waste: consume