In forms imaginary, the unguided days, War. My gracious lord, you look beyond him quite: The prince but studies his companions, Like a strange tongue; wherein, to gain the lan guage, 'Tis needful, that the most immodest word Be look'd upon, and learn'd; which once attain'd, 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.-Who's here? Westmoreland? Enter WESTMORELAND. West. Health to my sovereign! and new happi ness Added to that that I am to deliver! Prince John, your son, doth kiss your grace's hand: 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, 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. [Swoons. P. Humph. Comfort, your majesty! Cla. O my royal father! West. My sovereign lord, cheer up yourself, look up! 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 Hath wrought the mure 83, that should confine it in, So thin, that life looks through, and will break out. P. Humph. The people fear me; for they do ob serve Unfather'd heirs 84, and loathly births of nature: The seasons change their manners, as the year tween : 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 to an inner part of the room, and place him on a bed. Let there be no noise made, my gentle friends; Will whisper musick to my weary spirit. War. Call for the musick in the other room. 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. 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 Prince 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 This sleep is sound indeed; this is a sleep, [Putting it on his head, Which heaven shall guard: And put the world's whole strength Into one giant arm, it shall not force This lineal honour from me: This from thee Will I to mine leave, as 'tis left to me. K. Hen. Warwick! Gloster! Clarence! [Exit. |