Either from the king, or in the present time, 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: My father from the breast of Bolingbroke, know not what: The earl of Hereford was reputed then But, if your father had been victor there, 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.- so; This offer comes from mercy, not from fear: Say you not then, our offer is compell'd. West. That argues but the shame of your offence: A rotten case abides no handling. Hast. Hath the prince John a full comIn very ample virtue of his father, [mission, To hear, and absolutely to determine Of what conditions we shall stand upon? West. That is intended** in the general's Arch. Then take, my lord of Westmoreland, this schedule;* For this contains cur general grievances:- In sight of both our battles we may meet: And either end in peace, which heaven so frame! Or to the place of difference call the swords Which must decide it. Arch. My lord, we will do so. [Exit WEST. Mouh. There is a thing within my bosom, tells me, That no conditions of our peace can stand. Hust. Fear you not that: if we can make our peace Upon such large terms, and so absolute, Mowb. Ay, but our valuation shall be such, Arch. No, no, my lord; Note this,—the king is weary Of dainty and such picking|| grievances: Revives two greater in the heirs of life. Hast. Besides, the king hath wasted all his rods On late offenders, that he now doth lack [shal, Arch. "Tis very true;And therefore be assur'd, my good lord marIf we do now make our atonement well, Our peace will, like a broken limb united, Grow stronger for the breaking. Mowl. Be it so. Here is return'd my lord of Westmoreland. 438 SECOND PART OF 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, [Exeunt. we come. SCENE II.-Another part of the Forest. Enter, from one side, MOWBRAY, the ARCHBISHOP, HASTINGS, and others; from the other side, Prince JOHN of Lancaster, WESTMORELAND, Officers and Åttendants. P. John. You are well encounter'd here, my Good day to you, gentle lord Archbishop;- bishop, It is even so: Who hath not heard it spoken, Arch. Good my lord of Lancaster, I am not here against your father's peace: The time misorder'd doth, in common sense, form, To hold our safety up. I sent your grace the court, Whereon this Hydra son of war is born: With grant of our most just and right desires; Moub. If not, we ready are to try our for- [tunes Hast. And though we here fall down, P. John. You are too shallow, Hastings, To sound the bottom of the after-times. How far-forth you do like their articles? Clad in armour. ↑ Raised in arms. + Labours of thought. ( Succession. KING HENRY IV. P. John. I like them all, and do allow* them And swear here by the honour of my blood, Arch. I take your princely word for these re- P. John. I give it you, and will maintain my And thereupon I drink unto your grace. [part: I know, it will well please them; Hie thee, [Exit Officer. This news of peace; let them have pay, and captain. I Arch. To you, my noble lord of Westmore land. West. I pledge your grace: And, if you knew what pains have bestow'd, to breed this present peace, Arch. I do not doubt you. Health to my lord, and gentle cousin, Mowbray. season; For I am, on the sudden, something ill. merry; ever But heaviness foreruns the good event. Serves to say thus,-Some good thing comes to-morrow. Arch. Believe me, I am passing light in spirit. Mowb. So much the worse, if your own rule [Shouts within. P. John. The word of peace is render'd; be true. Hark, how they shout! Mowb. This had been cheerful, after victory. P. John. Go, my lord, trainst March by us; that we may peruse the men 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. Mowb. Is this proceeding just and honourable? West. Is your assembly so? Arch. Will you thus break your faith? 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. 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 Colevile 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 1 had but a belly of any indifferency, I were simply the most active fellow in Europe: My womb, 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 now; Call in the powers, good cousin Westmoreland[Exit WEST. Now, Falstaff, where have you been all this while? When every thing is ended, then you come: These tardy tricks of yours will, on my life, One time or other break some gallows' back. Fal. I would be sorry, my lord, but it should be thus; I never knew yet, but rebuke and + Foolishly Young bullocks. 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, traveltainted as I am, 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 with the hook-nosed fellow of Rome,I came, saw, and over came. P. John. It was more of his courtesy than your deserving. 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 show like gilt twopences 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 show like pins' heads to her; believe not the word of let desert mount. the noble Therefore let me have right, and P. John. Thine's too heavy to mount. P. John. Thine's too thick to shine. Fal. Let it do something, my good lord, that may do me good, and call it what you will. P. John. 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. That led me hither: had they been rul'd by me, Cole. I am, my lord, but as my betters are, 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. John. Send Colevile, with his confederates, To York, to present execution :Blunt, lead him hence; and see you guard him sure. [Exeunt some with COLEVILe. And now despatch we toward the court, my lords; I hear, the king my father is sore sick: 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, t Shall 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 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 never any of these demure boys come to any proof: for thin drink doth so over-cool their blood, and making many fish-meals, that they + Stand my good friend. In my present temper. * Cæsar. fall into a kind of male green-sickness; and then, 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 had a two-fold operation 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 delivered 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; 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; 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,t 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. ' 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. ur navy is address'd, our power collected, Jur 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, now 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? K. Hen. Is not his brother, Thomas of Clarence with him? P. Humph. No, my good lord; he is in presence here. Cla. What would my lord and father? How chance, thou art not with the prince thy And thou shalt prove a shelter to thy friends; 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 K. Hen. And how accompanied? can'st thou tell that? Cla. With Poins, and other his continual followers. K. Hen. Most subject is the fattest soil to And he, the noble image of my youth, weeds; Is overspread with them: Therefore my grief Stretches itself beyond the hour of death; The blood weeps from my heart, when I do shape, In forms imaginary, the unguided days, terms, * Has an attention shown him. + Wolf 's bane, a poisonous herb. The prince will, in the perfectness of time, Enter WESTMORELAND. West. Health to my sovereign! and new happiness Added to that that I am to deliver! [hand: Prince John, your son, doth kiss your grace's 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.* K. Hen. O Westmoreland, thou art a summer bird, Which ever in the haunch of winter sings Hur. From enemies heaven keep your majesty; [fall And, when they stand against you, may they As those that I am come to tell you of! The earl of Northumberland, and the lord Bar dolph, With a great power of English, and of Scots, Will fortune never come with both hands full, But write her fair words still in foulest letters? Cla. The river hath thrice flow'd, no ebb between:* And the old folk, time's doting chronicles, War. Speak lower, princes, for the king re covers. 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 the 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. Enter Prince HENRY. prince, speak low; The king your father is dispos'd to sleep. She either gives a stomach, and no food,- P. Hen. No; I will sit and watch here by dy: O me! come near me, now I am much ill. P. Humph. Comfort, your majesty! Cla. O my royal father! [Swoons. West. My sovereign lord, cheer up yourself, look up! War. Be patient, princes; you do know, these fits Are with his highness very ordinary. [well. Stand from him, give him air; he'll straight be Cla. No, no; he cannot long hold out these pangs; The incessant care and labour of his mind Hath wrought the mure,t that should confine it in, [out. So thin, that life looks through, and will break P. Humph. The people fear me ;; for they do observe That keeps the portst 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 bigging bound, Snores out the watch of night. O majesty! There lies a downy feather, which stirs not: This sleep is sound indeed; this is a sleep, |