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,
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
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;
For the fifth Harry from curb’d licence plucks
The muzzle of restraint, and the wild dog
Shall flesh his tooth on every innocent.
O my poor kingdom, sick with civil blows!
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!
Prince 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 spoke and I had heard
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,
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,
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
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 this 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 worst of gold:
Other, less fine in carat, is more precious,
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,
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 spirit of mine
Did with the least affection of a welcome
Give entertainment to the might of it,
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 Henry IV
O my son,
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;
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
How troublesome it sat upon my head.
To thee it shall descend with bitter quiet,
Better opinion, better confirmation;
For all the soil of the achievement goes
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;
Which daily grew to quarrel and to bloodshed,
Wounding supposed peace: all these bold fears
Thou see’st with peril I have answered;
For all my reign hath been but as a scene
Acting that argument: and now my death
Changes the mode; for what in me was purchased,
Falls upon thee in a more fairer sort;
So thou the garland wear’st successively.
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;
By whose fell working I was first advanced
And by whose power I well might lodge a fear
To be again displaced: which to avoid,
I cut them off; and had a purpose now
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
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.
How I came by the crown, O God forgive;
And grant it may with thee in true peace live!
Prince Henry
My gracious liege,
You won it, wore it, kept it, gave it me;
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
King Henry IV
Look, look, here comes my John of Lancaster.
Lancaster
Health, peace, and happiness to my royal father!
King Henry IV
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
My worldly business makes a period.
Where is my Lord of Warwick?
Prince Henry
My Lord of Warwick!
Enter Warwick, and others
King Henry IV
Doth any name particular belong
Unto the lodging where I first did swoon?
Warwick
’Tis call’d Jerusalem, my noble lord.
King Henry IV
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;
Which vainly I supposed the Holy Land:
But bear me to that chamber; there I’ll lie;
In that Jerusalem shall Harry die.
Exeunt
ACT V
SCENE I. GLOUCESTERSHIRE. SHALLOW’S HOUSE.
Enter Shallow, Falstaff, Bardolph, and Page
Shallow
By cock and pie, sir, you shall not away to-night.
What, Davy, I say!
Falstaff
You must excuse me, Master Robert Shallow.
Shallow
I will not excuse you; you shall not be excused; excuses shall not be admitted; there is no excuse shall serve; you shall not be excused. Why, Davy!
Enter Davy
Davy
Here, sir.
Shallow
Davy, Davy, Davy, Davy, let me see, Davy; let me see, Davy; let me see: yea, marry, William cook, bid him come hither. Sir John, you shall not be excused.
Davy
Marry, sir, thus; those precepts cannot be served: and, again, sir, shall we sow the headland with wheat?<
br />
Shallow
With red wheat, Davy. But for William cook: are there no young pigeons?
Davy
Yes, sir. Here is now the smith’s note for shoeing and plough-irons.
Shallow
Let it be cast and paid. Sir John, you shall not be excused.
Davy
Now, sir, a new link to the bucket must need be had: and, sir, do you mean to stop any of William’s wages, about the sack he lost the other day at Hinckley fair?
Shallow
A’ shall answer it. Some pigeons, Davy, a couple of short-legged hens, a joint of mutton, and any pretty little tiny kickshaws, tell William cook.
Davy
Doth the man of war stay all night, sir?
Shallow
Yea, Davy. I will use him well: a friend i’ the court is better than a penny in purse. Use his men well, Davy; for they are arrant knaves, and will backbite.
Davy
No worse than they are backbitten, sir; for they have marvellous foul linen.
Shallow
Well conceited, Davy: about thy business, Davy.
Davy
I beseech you, sir, to countenance William Visor of
Woncot against Clement Perkes of the hill.
Shallow
There is many complaints, Davy, against that Visor: that Visor is an arrant knave, on my knowledge.
Davy
I grant your worship that he is a knave, sir; but yet, God forbid, sir, but a knave should have some countenance at his friend’s request. An honest man, sir, is able to speak for himself, when a knave is not. I have served your worship truly, sir, this eight years; and if I cannot once or twice in a quarter bear out a knave against an honest man, I have but a very little credit with your worship. The knave is mine honest friend, sir; therefore, I beseech your worship, let him be countenanced.
Shallow
Go to; I say he shall have no wrong. Look about, Davy.
Exit Davy
Where are you, Sir John? Come, come, come, off with your boots. Give me your hand, Master Bardolph.
Bardolph
I am glad to see your worship.
Shallow
I thank thee with all my heart, kind
Master Bardolph: and welcome, my tall fellow.
To the Page
Come, Sir John.
Falstaff
I’ll follow you, good Master Robert Shallow.
Exit Shallow
Bardolph, look to our horses.
Exeunt Bardolph and Page
If I were sawed into quantities, I should make four dozen of such bearded hermits’ staves as Master Shallow. It is a wonderful thing to see the semblable coherence of his men’s spirits and his: they, by observing of him, do bear themselves like foolish justices; he, by conversing with them, is turned into a justice-like serving-man: their spirits are so married in conjunction with the participation of society that they flock together in consent, like so many wild-geese. If I had a suit to Master Shallow, I would humour his men with the imputation of being near their master: if to his men, I would curry with Master Shallow that no man could better command his servants. It is certain that either wise bearing or ignorant carriage is caught, as men take diseases, one of another: therefore let men take heed of their company. I will devise matter enough out of this Shallow to keep Prince Harry in continual laughter the wearing out of six fashions, which is four terms, or two actions, and a’ shall laugh without intervallums. O, it is much that a lie with a slight oath and a jest with a sad brow will do with a fellow that never had the ache in his shoulders! O, you shall see him laugh till his face be like a wet cloak ill laid up!
Shallow
[Within] Sir John!
Falstaff
I come, Master Shallow; I come, Master Shallow.
Exit
SCENE II. WESTMINSTER. THE PALACE.
Enter Warwick and the Lord Chief-Justice, meeting
Warwick
How now, my lord chief-justice! whither away?
Lord Chief-Justice
How doth the king?
Warwick
Exceeding well; his cares are now all ended.
Lord Chief-Justice
I hope, not dead.
Warwick
He’s walk’d the way of nature;
And to our purposes he lives no more.
Lord Chief-Justice
I would his majesty had call’d me with him:
The service that I truly did his life
Hath left me open to all injuries.
Warwick
Indeed I think the young king loves you not.
Lord Chief-Justice
I know he doth not, and do arm myself
To welcome the condition of the time,
Which cannot look more hideously upon me
Than I have drawn it in my fantasy.
Enter Lancaster, Clarence, Gloucester, Westmoreland, and others
Warwick
Here come the heavy issue of dead Harry:
O that the living Harry had the temper
Of him, the worst of these three gentlemen!
How many nobles then should hold their places
That must strike sail to spirits of vile sort!
Lord Chief-Justice
O God, I fear all will be overturn’d!
Lancaster
Good morrow, cousin Warwick, good morrow.
Gloucester
Clarence
Good morrow, cousin.
Lancaster
We meet like men that had forgot to speak.
Warwick
We do remember; but our argument
Is all too heavy to admit much talk.
Lancaster
Well, peace be with him that hath made us heavy.
Lord Chief-Justice
Peace be with us, lest we be heavier!
Gloucester
O, good my lord, you have lost a friend indeed;
And I dare swear you borrow not that face
Of seeming sorrow, it is sure your own.
Lancaster
Though no man be assured what grace to find,
You stand in coldest expectation:
I am the sorrier; would ’twere otherwise.
Clarence
Well, you must now speak Sir John Falstaff fair;
Which swims against your stream of quality.
Lord Chief-Justice
Sweet princes, what I did, I did in honour,
Led by the impartial conduct of my soul:
And never shall you see that I will beg
A ragged and forestall’d remission.
If truth and upright innocency fail me,
I’ll to the king my master that is dead,
And tell him who hath sent me after him.
Warwick
Here comes the prince.
Enter King Henry V, attended
Lord Chief-Justice
Good morrow; and God save your majesty!
King Henry V
This new and gorgeous garment, majesty,
Sits not so easy on me as you think.
Brothers, you mix your sadness with some fear:
This is the English, not the Turkish court;
Not Amurath an Amurath succeeds,
But Harry Harry. Yet be sad, good brothers,
For, by my faith, it very well becomes you:
Sorrow so royally in you appears
That I will deeply put the fashion on
And wear it in my heart: why then, be sad;
But entertain no more of it, good brothers,
Than a joint burden laid upon us all.
For me, by heaven, I bid you be assured,
I’ll be your father and your brother too;
Let me but bear your love, I ’ll bear your cares:
Yet weep that Harry’s dead; and so will I;
But Harry lives, that shall convert those tears
By number into hours of happiness.
Princ
es
We hope no other from your majesty.
King Henry V
You all look strangely on me: and you most;
You are, I think, assured I love you not.
Lord Chief-Justice
I am assured, if I be measured rightly,
Your majesty hath no just cause to hate me.
King Henry V
No!
How might a prince of my great hopes forget
So great indignities you laid upon me?
What! rate, rebuke, and roughly send to prison
The immediate heir of England! Was this easy?
May this be wash’d in Lethe, and forgotten?
Lord Chief-Justice
I then did use the person of your father;
The image of his power lay then in me:
And, in the administration of his law,
Whiles I was busy for the commonwealth,
Your highness pleased to forget my place,
The majesty and power of law and justice,
The image of the king whom I presented,
And struck me in my very seat of judgment;
Whereon, as an offender to your father,
I gave bold way to my authority
And did commit you. If the deed were ill,
Be you contented, wearing now the garland,
To have a son set your decrees at nought,
To pluck down justice from your awful bench,
To trip the course of law and blunt the sword
That guards the peace and safety of your person;
Nay, more, to spurn at your most royal image
And mock your workings in a second body.
Question your royal thoughts, make the case yours;
Be now the father and propose a son,
Hear your own dignity so much profaned,
See your most dreadful laws so loosely slighted,
Behold yourself so by a son disdain’d;
And then imagine me taking your part
And in your power soft silencing your son:
After this cold considerance, sentence me;
And, as you are a king, speak in your state
What I have done that misbecame my place,
My person, or my liege’s sovereignty.
King Henry V
You are right, justice, and you weigh this well;
Therefore still bear the balance and the sword:
And I do wish your honours may increase,
Till you do live to see a son of mine
Offend you and obey you, as I did.
So shall I live to speak my father’s words:
‘Happy am I, that have a man so bold,
That dares do justice on my proper son;
And not less happy, having such a son,
That would deliver up his greatness so
Into the hands of justice.’ You did commit me:
For which, I do commit into your hand
Complete Plays, The Page 184
