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:

Our news shall go before us to his majesty,-
Which, cousin, 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 Glostershire: and, when you come to court, stand 77 my good lord, 'pray, in your good report.

P. John. Fare you well, Falstaff: I, in my con

dition,

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 78;-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 overcool their blood, and making many fish-meals, that they fall into a kind of male green-sickness; and

A good sherris

then, when they marry, they get wenches: they are generally fools and cowards;-which some of us should be too, but for inflammation. sack hath 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 79, full of nimble, fiery, and delectable shapes; 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 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 puff'd 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, 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.

How now, Bardolph ?

Bard. The army is discharged all, and gone. Fal. Let them go. I'll through Glostershire; and there will I visit master Robert Shallow, esquire: I have him already tempering between my finger and thumb 80, and shortly will I seal with him. Come away. [Exeunt.

my

SCENE IV.

Westminster. A Room in the Palace.

Enter King HENRY, CLARENCE, Prince HUMPHREY, WARWICK, and others.

K. Hen. Now, lords, if heaven doth give success

ful 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 sanctify'd.
Our navy is address'd, our power collected,
Our 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 ma

jesty

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?

P. Humph.

I do not know, my lord.

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?

K. Hen. Nothing but well to thee, Thomas of

Clarence.

How chance, thou art not with the prince thy bro

ther?

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 may'st effect,
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,
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:

Yet notwithstanding, being incens'd, he's flint;
As humorous as winter 1, and as sudden
As flaws congealed in the spring of day 82.
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, Tho-

mas,

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,
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.

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: 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,