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· P. Henky: I shall drive you then to confess the wilful abuse, and then I know how to handle you.

Fal. No abufe, Hal, on my honour, no abuse.

P. Henry. Not to dispraise me, and call me pantlers and bread-chipper, and I know not what?

Fal. No abuse, Hal.
Poins. No abufe!

Fal. No abure, Ned, in the world, honeft Ned, none. I disprais'd him before the wicked, that the wicked might not fall in love with him; in which doing, I have done the part of a careful friend, and a true lubject, and thy father is to give me thanks for it. No abuse, Hal, none, Ned, none ; no, boys, none.

P. Henry. See now, whether pure fear and entire cowardise doth not make thee wrong this virtuous gentlewoman to close with us? : Is the of the wicked ? is thine Hostess here of the wicked? or is the boy of the wicked si or honele Bardolph, whose zeal burns in his nofe, of the wicked?

Poins.-Anlier, thou dead Elm, answer. 2-Paki The fiend hath prickt down Bardolph irrecovetable, and his face is Lucifer's privy-kitchen, where he doth nothing but roaft mault-worms: for the boy, there is a good angel about him, but the devil-ouc-bids him too be

P. Henry. For the women?

Fat. For one of them, the is in hell already, and burns poor fouis: for the other, I owe her money, and whether she be damn'd for that, I know not.

Hoft Now I warrane you.

Fal. No ti think, thou art -not: I think, thou art quit for that. Marry, there is another indi&tment upon thee, for fuffering fleth to be carea in thy houle, contrary to the law, for the which I think thou wilt howl.


is Hoft. All victuallers de fo: what is a joint of mutton or two in a whole Lend?

P. Herrno You, gentlewoman, but cofii : Dok What says your Grace ? Fal. His Grace saysThat, which his flesh: rebels against. .


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Hoft. Who knocks so loud at door? look to the door there, Francis,

Enter Peto.
P. Henry. Peto, how now what news?
· Peto. The King your father is at Westminfter,
And there are twenty weak and wearied Posts
Come from the North; and as I came along,
I met and overtook a dozen captains,
Barc-headed, sweating, knocking at the taverns,
And asking every one for Sir John Falstaff
P. Henry. By heaven, Poins, I feel me much to

So idly to profaner the precious time;
When tempest of commotion, like the South
Borne with black vapour, doch begin to melc .
And drop upon our bare unarmed heads.
Give me my sword, and cloak: Falftaff, good night.

Exeunt Prince and Poins. Fal. Now comes in the sweetest.morfel of the night, ånd we must hence, and leave it unpickt. More knocking at the door? how now? what's the matter?

Bard. You must away to Court, Sir, presently: a dozen captains stay at door for you.

Fal. Pay the musicians, Sirrah: farewel, Hoftels ; farewel, Dol. You see, my good wenches, how of merit are sought after; the undeservor may fleep, when the man of action is callid on. Farewel, good wenches'; if I be not sent away post, I will see you again, ere I

go: Dol. I cannot fpeak; if my heart be net ready to Burft

welt; fweet Jack, have care of thy self. Fal. Farewel, farewel.

[Exit. Hoft. Well, fare thee well: I have known thee these twenty nine years, come pelcod-time; but an honefter and truer-hearted man well, fare thee well.

Bard. Mrs. Tear-sheet,
Hojt. What's the matter?:00
Bard. Bid Mistress Tearfeet come to my master.
Hoft. O run, Dot, run, run, good Dol. [Exeunt.



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SCENE, the Palace in LONDON. Enter King Henry in his Night-gown; with a


O, call the Earls of Surrey and of Warwick;
But, ere they come, bid them o'cr-read thefe



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And well consider of them : make good speed.

[Exit Page.
How many thousands of my poorest Subjects
Are at this hour afleep! O gentle Sleep,
Nature's soft Nurse, how have I frighted thee,
That thou no more wilt weigh my eye-lids down,
And steep my senses in forgetfulness?'
Why rather, Sleep, ly’lt thou in smoaky cribs,
Upon uncalíe pallets stretching thee,
And hyfht with buzzing night-flies to thy slumber ;
Than in the perfum'd chambers of the Great,
Under the Canopies of coftly State,
And lulp'd with sounds of sweetest melody?
O thou dull God, why ly'st thou with the vile
In loathsom beds, and leav'st the kingly couch

A watch-case, or a common larum-belt?
Wilt thou, upon the high and giddy mast,
Scal up the ship-boy's eyes, and rock his brains,
In cradle of the rude imperious Surge;. 'W
And in the visitation of the winds, as
Who take the ruffian billows by the top,
Curling their monstrous heads, and hanging them
With deafʼning clamours in the flip'ry throuds,
That, with the hurley, death it self awakes?
Can'lt thouy partial Sleep, give thy report


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To the wet sea-boy in an hour so rude?
And, in the calmest and țhe stillest night,
With all appliances and means to boot,
Deny it to a King? then happy low ! lye down; (22)
Uneafie lyes the head, chạt wears a Crown.

Enter Warwick and Surrey.
War. Many good morrows to your Majesty,
K. Henry. Is it good morrow, bords ?
War. 'Tis one o'clock, and past.

K. Henry: (23) Why, then, good morrow to you. Well,
Have you read o'er the letters that I sent you?

War. We have, my Liege.
K. Henry. Then you perceive the body of our King.

How foul it is; what rank diseases grow,
And with what danger, near the heart of it.

War. It is but as a body, yet distemper'd,
Which to its former strength may be restorid,
With good advice and little medicine ;
My lord Northumberland will soon be cool'd.

K. Henry, Oh heav'n, that one might read the book

my lords,

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of fate,

And see the revolution of the times

(22) then happy low ! lye down ;

Uneasie lyes the head, &c.] 'Tho' I have not difturb'd the Text, Mr. Warburton thinks, Shakespeare would not have used fo poor a Re: petition as lye down and uneasie lyes. He therefore conjectures

Then happy, lowly Clown ! Uneasie lyes the Head, that wears a Crown, This, says He, is the jult Conclufion from all faid before. If Sleep will fly a King, and consort it self with Beggars, then happy the lowly Clown, and unealy the crown'd Head. (23) Why then good morrow to yau all, my Lords:

Have you read o'er, &c.] I must account for the Change I have yentur'd at here. In the preceding Page the King sends Letters to Surrey and Warwick, with Charge that they should read them and attend him. Accordingly here Surrey and Warwick come, and no body else, in Obedience to that Summons. The King would hardly have said Good morrow to You All, to two Peers, and no more. My Emendati, on wants no further Support, than This naked Stating of the Cafe,



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Make Mountains level, and the Continent,
Weary of solid firmness, 'melt it self
Into the Sea; and, other times, to see
The beachý girdle of the Ocean
Too wide for Néptüne's hips: How Chances mock,
And Changes fill the cup of alteration
With divers liquors! O, if this were seen,
The happiest youth viewing his progress through;
What perils paft, what crosses to entue,
Wou'd shut the book, and fit him down and die.
"fis nột ten Years gone,
Since Richard and Northumberland, great Friends,
Did feast together, and in two years after
Were they at wars. It is but eight years fince,
This 'Percy was the man nearest my fout;
Who, liķe a brother, toild in my affairs,
And laid his love and life under my foots
Yea, for my fáke, ev'n to the eyes of Richard
Gave him defiance. But which of you was by ?
(You, cousin Nevil, as I' may remember)

[To Warwick.
When Richard, with his eye brim-full of tears,
Then check’d and täted by Northumberland,
Did speak these words, now prov'd a prophecy.

Northumberland, thou ladder by the which (My cousin Bolingbroke ascends my Throne: (Though then, Heav'n knows, I had no such intent ; But that Necessity lo bow'd the State, That I and Greatness were compellid to kiss :) ? The time shall come, (thus did he follow it,) $ The time will come, that foul fin, gathering head, ☆ Shall break into corruption; so went on, Foretelling this same time's condition, And the division of our amity,

War. There is a history in all men's lives,
Figuring the Nature of the times deceas'd ;
The which obferv'd, a man may prophesie,
With a near aim, of the main chance of things
As yet not come to life, which in their seeds
And weak beginnings lie intreasured.


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