Page images
PDF
EPUB

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 winter2, and as sudden
As flaws congealed in the spring of day.3
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,

4

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.5

2

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? can'st thou tell that?
Cla. With Poins, and other his continual followers.
K. Hen. Most subject is the fattest soil to weeds

humorous as winter,] That is, changeable as the weather of a winter's day.

[ocr errors]

congealed in the spring of day.] Alluding to the opinion of some philosophers, that the vapours being congealed in the air by cold, (which is most intense towards the morning,) and being afterwards rarified and let loose by the warmth of the sun, occasion those sudden and impetuous gusts of wind which are called flaws. WARBURTON.

4 Mingled with venom of suggestion,] Though their blood be inflamed by the temptations to which youth is peculiarly subject.

5 rash gunpowder,] Rash is quick, violent, sudden. This representation of the prince is a natural picture of a young man, whose passions are yet too strong for his virtues. JOHNSON.

And he, the noble image of my youth,

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,

And rotten times, that you 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 quite: The prince but studies his companions,

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,
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.

K. Hen. 'Tis seldom, when the bee doth leave her

comb

In the dead carrion.7- 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:

6 his affections] His passions; his inordinate desires. 7 'Tis seldom, when the bee, &c.] As the bee having once placed her comb in a carcase, stays by her honey, so he that has once taken pleasure in bad company, will continue to associate with those. that have the art of pleasing him. JOHNSON.

Mowbray, the bishop Scroop, Hastings, and all,
Are brought to the correction of your law;
There is not now a rebel's sword unsheathed,
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.8

K. Hen. O Westmoreland, thou art a summer bird, 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.

8

P. Humph. Comfort, your majesty!

Cla.

[Swoons.

O my royal father! West. My sovereign lord, cheer up yourself, look up!

in his particular.] His is used for its, very frequently in the old plays.

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

3

Hath wrought the mure, that should confine it in,
So thin, that life looks through, and will break out.
P. Humph. The people fear me1; for they do observe
Unfather'd heirs 2, and loathly birds of nature:
The seasons change their manners, as the year
Had found some months asleep, and leap'd then over.
Cla. The river hath thrice flow'd4, 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 dull5 and favourable hand

Will whisper musick to my weary spirit.

War. Call for the musick in the other room.
K. Hen. Set me the crown upon my pillow here.

9 Hath wrought the mure, &c.] i. e. the wall.

1 The people fear me;] i. e. make me afraid.

2 Unfather'd heirs,] That is, equivocal births; animals that had no animal progenitors; productions not brought forth according to the stated laws of generation. JOHNSON.

3 as the year-] i. e. as if the year, &c.

The river hath thrice flow'd,] This is historically true. It happened on the 12th of October, 1411.

5 Unless some dull-] Dull signifies melancholy, gentle, soothing, or, producing dullness or heaviness; and consequently sleep.

6 Set me the crown upon my pillow here.] It is still the custom in France to place the crown on the king's pillow when he is dying.

Cla. His eye is hollow, and he changes much.
War. Less noise, less noise.

P. Hen.

Enter Prince HENRY.

Who saw the duke of Clarence?

Cla. I am here, brother, full of heaviness.

P. Hen. How now! rain within doors, and none

abroad!

How doth the king?

P. Humph. Exceeding ill.

P. Hen.

Tell it him.

Heard he the good news yet?

P. Humph. He alter'd much upon the hearing it.
P. Hen. If he be sick

With joy, he will recover without physick.

War. Not so much noise, my lords: - sweet prince, speak low;

The king your father is dispos'd to sleep.

Cla. Let us withdraw into the other room.

War. Will't please your grace to go along with us?
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

7—

8

the ports-] Are the gates of slumber. Ports is the ancient military term for gates; and is yet used in this sense in Scotland.

8 homely biggin,] A kind of cap, at present worn only by children; but so called from the cap worn by the Beguines, an order of nuns.

« PreviousContinue »