The why is plain, as way to parith-church;
He whom a fool does very wifely hit,
Doth very foolishly, although he smart,
Not to feem fenfelefs of the bob. If not,
The wife man's folly is anatomiz'd
Even by the fquand'ring glances of a fool.
Inveft me in my motley, give me leave
To speak my mind, and I will through and through
Cleanse the foul body of th' infected word,
If they will patiently receive my medicine.
DUKE. Fie on thee! I can tell what thou would'st do.
JAQ. What, for a counter, would I do but good?
DUKE. Moft mifchievous foul fin, in chiding fin;
For thou thyfelf haft been a libertine,
And all th' emboffed fores and headed evils,
That thou with licence of free foot haft caught,
Wouldst thou difgorge into the general world.
JAQ. Why, who cries out on pride,
That can therein tax any private party?
Doth it not flow as hugely as the fea,
Till that the very means do ebb.?
What woman in the city do I name,
When that 1 fay, the city-woman bears
The cost of princes on unworthy shoulders?
Who can come in, and fay, that I mean her;
When fuch a one as fhe, fuch is her neighbour ?
Or what is he of basest function,
That fays his bravery is not on my coft;
Thinking, that I mean him, but therein fuits
His folly to the metal of my fpeech?
There then; how then? what then? let me fee wherein
My tongue has wrong'd him; if it do him right,
Then he hath wrong'd himself; if he be free,
Why, then my taxing, like a wild goofe, flies
Unclaim'd of any man.-
HENRY AND LORD CHIEF JUSTICE.
AM affur'd, if I be measur'd rightly,
Your Majesty hath no just cause to hate me.
P. HENRY. NO! might a prince of my great hopes forget So great indignities you laid upon me?
What! rate, rebuke, and roughly send to prifon
Th' immediate heir of England! was this easy?
May this be wash'd in Lethe and forgotten?
CH. JUST. 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,
While I was bufy for the commonwealth,
Your Highness pleased to forget my place,
The majefty and pow'r of law and justice,
The image of the King whom I prefented;
And ftruck me in my very feat 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 fon fet your decrees at nought :
"To pluck down juftice from your awful bench,
To trip the course of law, and blunt the sword
That guards the peace and fafety of your perfon:
Nay more to fpurn at your most royal image,
And mock your working in a fecond body,
Question your royal thoughts, make the cafe your's;
Be now the father, and propose a son ;
Hear your own dignity fo much profan'd;
See your moft dreadful laws fo loosely flighted;
Behold yourself fo by a fon difdained,
And then imagine me taking your part,
And in your pow'r fo filencing your fon.
After this bold confid'rance, fentence me;
And, as you are a King, fpeak in your ftate,.
What I have done that mifbecame my place,
My perfon, or my Liege's fovereignty.
P.HENRY. You are right, Juftice, and you weigh this well;; Therefore ftill bear the balance and the fword:
And I do with your honours may increase,
do live to fee a fon of mine
Offend you, and obey you, as I did :
So fhall I live to speak my father's words :
Happy am I, that have a man fo bold
That dares do juftice on my proper fon ;
And no less happy, having such a son,
That would deliver up his greatness fo
Into the hand of Juftice.
For which I do commit into your hand:
Th' unstained sword that you have us❜d to bear;
With this remembrance, that you use the fame
With a like bold, juft, and impartial spirit,
As you have done 'gainst me. There is my hand,
You fhall be as a father to my youth :
My voice fhall found as you do prompt mine ear;
And I will stoop and humble my intents,
To your well practis'd wife directions.
And, Princes all, believe me, I beseech you :
My father is gone wild into his grave;
For in his tomb lie my affections:
And with his fpirit fadly I furvive,
To mock the expectations of the world;
To fruftrate prophecies, and to raze out
Rotten opinion, which hath writ me down
After my feeming. Though my tide of blood
Hath proudly flow'd in vanity till now;
Now doth it turn and ebb back to the fea,
Where it shall mingle with the state of floods,
And flow henceforth in formal majesty.
Now call we our high court of Parliament;
And let us chuse such limbs of noble counsel,
That the great body of our state may go
In equal rank with the best govern'd nation ;
That war or peace, or both at once, may be
As things acquainted and familiar to us,
In which you, father, fhall have foremost hand.
Our coronation done, we will accite
(As I before remember'd) all our state,
And (Heav'n configning to my good intents)
No prince, nor peer, shall have just cause to say,
Heav'n fhorten Harry's happy life one day.
ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY AND BISHOP
CANT. MY Lord, I'll tell you; that felf bill surging
Which, in the eleventh year o' th' laft King's
Was like, and had indeed against us pafs'd,
But that the scrambling and unquiet time
Did push it out of further question.
ELY. But how, my Lord, fhall we refift it now? CANT. It must be thought on. If it pass against us, We lose the better half of our poffeffion :
For all the temporal lands which men devout
By teftament have given to the church,
Would they ftrip from us; being valu'd thus ;
As much as would maintain, to the King's honour,
Full fifteen earls, and fifteen hundred knights,
Six thousand and two hundred good efquires;
And to relief of lazars, and weak age
Of indigent faint fouls, paft corporal toil,
A hundred alms-houses, right well fupply'd ;
And to the coffers of the king, befide,
A thousand pounds by th' year. Thus runs the bill.
ELY. This would drink deep.
CANT. 'Twould drink the cup and all,
ELY. But what prevention ?
CANT. The king is full of grace and fair regard.
ELY. And a true lover of the holy church.
CANT. The courses of his youth promis'd it not;
The breath no fooner left his father's body,
But that his wildness, mortify'd in him,
Seem'd to die too; yea, at that very moment,
Confideration, like an angel, came,
And whipp'd th' offending Adam out of him,
Leaving his body as a paradise,
T' invelope and contain celeftial fpirits.
Never was fuch a fudden scholar made:
Never came reformation in a flood
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