Shakespeare's First Folio Part 320

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Glo. This Apoplexie will (certaine) be his end

King. I pray you take me vp, and beare me hence Into some other Chamber: softly 'pray.

Let there be no noyse made (my gentle friends) Vnlesse some dull and fauourable hand Will whisper Musicke to my wearie Spirit

War. Call for the Musicke in the other Roome

King. Set me the Crowne vpon my Pillow here



Clar. His eye is hollow, and hee changes much

War. Lesse noyse, lesse noyse.

Enter Prince Henry.

P.Hen. Who saw the Duke of Clarence?

Clar. I am here (Brother) full of heauinesse

P.Hen. How now? Raine within doores, and none abroad? How doth the King?

Glo. Exceeding ill

P.Hen. Heard hee the good newes yet?

Tell it him

Glo. Hee alter'd much, vpon the hearing it

P.Hen. If hee be sicke with Ioy, Hee'le recouer without Physicke

War. Not so much noyse (my Lords) Sweet Prince speake lowe, The King, your Father, is dispos'd to sleepe

Clar. Let vs with-draw into the other Roome

War. Wil't please your Grace to goe along with vs?

P.Hen. No: I will sit, and watch here, by the King.

Why doth the Crowne lye there, vpon his Pillow, Being so troublesome a Bed-fellow?

O pollish'd Perturbation! Golden Care!

That keep'st the Ports of Slumber open wide, To many a watchfull Night: sleepe with it now, Yet not so sound, and halfe so deepely sweete, As hee whose Brow (with homely Biggen bound) Snores out the Watch of Night. O Maiestie!

When thou do'st pinch thy Bearer, thou do'st sit Like a rich Armor, worne in heat of day, That scald'st with safetie: by his Gates of breath, There lyes a dowlney feather, which stirres not: Did hee suspire, that light and weightlesse dowlne Perforce must moue. My gracious Lord, my Father, This sleepe is sound indeede: this is a sleepe, That from this Golden Rigoll hath diuorc'd So many English Kings. Thy due, from me, Is Teares, and heauie Sorrowes of the Blood, Which Nature, Loue, and filiall tendernesse, Shall (O deare Father) pay thee plenteously.

My due, from thee, is this Imperiall Crowne, Which (as immediate from thy Place, and Blood) Deriues it selfe to me. Loe, heere it sits, Which Heauen shall guard: And put the worlds whole strength into one gyant Arme, It shall not force this Lineall Honor from me.

This, from thee, will I to mine leaue, As 'tis left to me.

Enter.

Enter Warwicke, Gloucester, Clarence.

King. Warwicke, Gloucester, Clarence

Clar. Doth the King call?

War. What would your Maiestie? how fares your Grace?

King. Why did you leaue me here alone (my Lords?) Cla. We left the Prince (my Brother) here (my Liege) Who vndertooke to sit and watch by you

King. The Prince of Wales? where is hee? let mee see him

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

Glo. Hee came not through the Chamber where wee stayd

King. Where is the Crowne? who tooke it from my Pillow?

War. When wee with-drew (my Liege) wee left it heere

King. The Prince hath ta'ne it hence: Goe seeke him out.

Is hee so hastie, that hee doth suppose My sleepe, my death? Finde him (my Lord of Warwick) Chide him hither: this part of his conioynes With my disease, and helpes to end me.

See Sonnes, 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 sleepes with thoughts, Their braines with care, their bones with industry.

For this, they haue ingrossed and pyl'd vp The canker'd heapes of strange-atchieued Gold: For this, they haue beene thoughtfull, to inuest Their Sonnes with Arts, and Martiall Exercises: When, like the Bee, culling from euery flower The vertuous Sweetes, our Thighes packt with Wax, Our Mouthes with Honey, wee bring it to the Hiue; And like the Bees, are murthered for our paines.

This bitter taste yeelds his engross.e.m.e.nts, To the ending Father.

Enter Warwicke.

Now, where is hee, that will not stay so long, Till his Friend Sicknesse hath determin'd me?

War. My Lord, I found the Prince in the next Roome, Was.h.i.+ng with kindly Teares his gentle Cheekes, With such a deepe demeanure, in great sorrow, That Tyranny, which neuer quafft but blood, Would (by beholding him) haue wash'd his Knife With gentle eye-drops. Hee is comming hither

King. But wherefore did hee take away the Crowne?

Enter Prince Henry.

Loe, where hee comes. Come hither to me (Harry.) Depart the Chamber, leaue vs heere alone.

Enter.

P.Hen. I neuer thought to heare you speake againe

King. Thy wish was Father (Harry) to that thought: I stay too long by thee, I wearie thee.

Do'st thou so hunger for my emptie Chayre, That thou wilt needes inuest thee with mine Honors, Before thy howre be ripe? O foolish Youth!

Thou seek'st the Greatnesse, that will ouer-whelme thee.

Stay but a little: for my Cloud of Dignitie Is held from falling, with so weake a winde, That it will quickly drop: my Day is dimme.

Thou hast stolne that, which after some few howres Were thine, without offence: and at my death Thou hast seal'd vp my expectation.

Thy Life did manifest, thou lou'dst me not, And thou wilt haue me dye a.s.sur'd of it.

Thou hid'st a thousand Daggers in thy thoughts, Which thou hast whetted on thy stonie heart, To stab at halfe an howre of my Life.

What? canst thou not forbeare me halfe an howre?

Then get thee gone, and digge my graue thy selfe, And bid the merry Bels ring to thy eare That thou art Crowned, not that I am dead.

Let all the Teares, that should bedew my Hea.r.s.e Be drops of Balme, to sanctifie thy head: Onely compound me with forgotten dust.

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.

Henry the fift is Crown'd: Vp Vanity, Downe Royall State: All you sage Counsailors, hence: And to the English Court, a.s.semble now From eu'ry Region, Apes of Idlenesse.

Now neighbor-Confines, purge you of your Sc.u.m: Haue you a Ruffian that will sweare? drinke? dance?

Reuell the night? Rob? Murder? and commit The oldest sinnes, the newest kinde of wayes?

Be happy, he will trouble you no more: England, shall double gill'd, his trebble guilt.

England, shall giue him Office, Honor, Might: For the Fift Harry, from curb'd License pluckes The muzzle of Restraint; and the wilde Dogge Shall flesh his tooth in euery Innocent.

O my poore Kingdome (sicke, with ciuill blowes) When that my Care could not with-hold thy Ryots, What wilt thou do, when Ryot is thy Care?

O, thou wilt be a Wildernesse againe, Peopled with Wolues (thy old Inhabitants.) Prince. O pardon me (my Liege) But for my Teares, The most Impediments vnto my Speech, I had fore-stall'd this deere, and deepe Rebuke, Ere you (with greefe) had spoke, and I had heard The course of it so farre. There is your Crowne, And he that weares the Crowne immortally, Long guard it yours. If I affect it more, Then as your Honour, and as your Renowne, Let me no more from this Obedience rise, Which my most true, and inward duteous Spirit Teacheth this prostrate, and exteriour bending.

Heauen witnesse with me, when I heere came in, And found no course of breath within your Maiestie, How cold it strooke my heart. If I do faine, O let me, in my present wildenesse, dye, And neuer liue, to shew th' incredulous World, The n.o.ble change that I haue purposed.

Comming to looke on you, thinking you dead, (And dead almost (my Liege) to thinke you were) I spake vnto the Crowne (as hauing sense) And thus vpbraided it. The Care on thee depending, Hath fed vpon the body of my Father, Therefore, thou best of Gold, art worst of Gold.

Other, lesse fine in Charract, is more precious, Preseruing life, in Med'cine potable: But thou, most Fine, most Honour'd, most Renown'd, Hast eate the Bearer vp.

Thus (my Royall Liege) Accusing it, I put it on my Head, To try with it (as with an Enemie, That had before my face murdred my Father) The Quarrell of a true Inheritor.

But if it did infect my blood with Ioy, Or swell my Thoughts, to any straine of Pride, If any Rebell, or vaine spirit of mine, Did, with the least Affection of a Welcome, Giue entertainment to the might of it, Let heauen, for euer, keepe it from my head, And make me, as the poorest Va.s.saile is, That doth with awe, and terror kneele to it

Shakespeare's First Folio Part 320

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Shakespeare's First Folio Part 320 summary

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