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We pray with heart, and soul, and all beside: And here is not a creature but myself,
His weary joints would gladly rise, I know;

I cannot do it ;-Yet I'll hammer it out.
Our knees shall kneel till to the ground they grow : My brain I'll prove the female to my soul;
His prayers are full of false hypocrisy ;

My soul, the father: and these two beget Ours, of true zeal and deep integrity.

A generation of still-breeding thoughts, Our prayers do out-pray his; then let them bave And these same thoughts people this little world ; That mercy, which true prayers ought to have. In humours, like the people of this world, Bol. Good aunt, stand up.

For no thought is contented. The better sort, Duch.

Nay, do not say-stand up; As thoughts of things divine.-are intermix'd But, pardon, first; and afterwards, stand up.

With scruples, and do set the word itself An if I were thy nurse, thy tongue to teach,

Against the word: Pardon-should be the first word of thy speech. As thus, --Come, little ones ; and then again,I never long'd to hear a word till now;

It is as hard to come, as for a camel Say-Pardon, king; let pity teach thee how:

To thread the postern of a needle's eye. The word is short, but not so short as sweet;

Thoughts tending to ambition, they do plot No word like pardon, for kings' mouths so meet.

Unlikely wonders : how these vain weak nails York. Speak it in French, king; say, pardonnez moi.

May tear a passage through the flinty ribs Duch. Dost thou teach pardon pardon to destroy? of this hard world, my rugged prison walls ; Ah, my sour husband, my hard-hearted lord,

And, for they cannot, die in their own pride. That set'st the word itself against the word !

Thoughts tending to content, flatter themselvese Speak, pardon, as 'tis current in our land;

That they are not the first of fortune's slaves, The chopping French we do not understand.

Nor shall not be the last ; like silly beggars, Thine eye begins to speak, set thy tongue there : Who, sitting in the stocks, refuge their shame, Or, in thy piteous heart plant thou thine ear; That many have, and others must sit there: That, hearing how our plaints and prayers do pierce, And in this thought they find a kind of ease, Pity may move thee, parlon to rehearse.

Bearing their own misfortune on the back Bol. Good aunt, stand up.

of such as have before endur'd the like. Duch.

I do not sue to stand, Thus play I, in one person, many people, Pardon is all the suit I have in hand.

And none contented: Sometimes am I king; Boli I pardon hini, as God shall pardon me. Then treason makes me wish myself a beggar,

Duck. O happy vantage of a kneeling knee! And so I am: Then crushing penury Yet am I sick for fear: speak it again ;

Persuades me I was better when a king; Twice saying pardon, doch not pardon twain, Then am I king'd again : and, by-and-by, But makes one parlon strong

Think that I am unking'd by Bolingbroke, Bal.

With all my heart And straight am nothing :-But, whate'er I am, I pardon him.

Nor I, nor any man, that but man is, Duch. A god on earth thou art.

With nothing shall be pleas'd, till he be easid Bol. But for our trusty brother-in-law, and the ab With being nothing.-Music do I hear? (MUCK bot,

Ha, ha! keep time :--How sour sweet music is, With all the rest of that consorted crew,

When time is broke, and no proportion kept! Destruction straight shall dog them at the heels. So is it in the music of men's lives. Good uncle, he!p to order several powers

And here have I the daintiness of ear, To Oxford, or where'er these traitors are :

To check time broke in a disorderd string; They shall not live within this world, I swear, But, for the concord of my state and time, But I will have them, if I once kuow where.

Had not an ear to hear my trne time broke. Uncle, farewell. -and cousin too, adieu :

I wasted time, and now doth time waste me, Your mother well hath pray'd, and prove you true. For now hath time made me his numb'ring clock: Duch. Come, my old son ;-I pray God, make thee My thoughts are minutes ; and, with sighs, they far

[E.xeunt. | Their watches on to mine eyes, the outward watch,

Whereto my finger, like a dial's point, SCENE IV.- Enter Exton, and a Servant.

Is pointing still, in cleansing them from tears. Exton. Did'st thou not mark the king, what words

Now, sir, the sound, that tells what hour it is, he spake?

Are clamorous groans, that strike upon my heart, Have I no friend will rid me of this living fear?

Which is the bell: So şighs, and tears, and grans, Was it not so?

Show minutes, times, and hours:~but my time Serv. Those were his very words.

Runs posting on in Bolingbroke's proud joy, Exton. Have I 120 friend? quoth he; he spake it

While I stand fooling here, his Jack o'the clock, twice,

This music mads me, let it sound no more; And urgʻd it twice together; did he not?

For, though it have holpe madmen to their wits, Serv.

He did. E.xton. And, speaking it, he wistfully look'd on me;

In me, it seems it will make wise men mad.

Y-t blessing on his heart that gives it me!
As who should say,- I would, thou were the man
That would divorce this terror from my heart;

For 'tis a sign of love; and love to Richard
Meaning, the king at Pomfret. Come, let's go ;

Is a strange brooch in this albhating world. I am the king's frierul, and will rid his foe. (Exeunt.

Enter Groom.

Groom. Hail, royal prince! SCENE 1.-Pomfret. The Dungeon of the Castle.

K. Rich.

Thanks, noble peei; Enter King Richard.

The cheapest of us is ten groats too dear. K. Rich. I have been studying how I may compare

What art thou ? and how comest thou bither, This prison, where I live, unto the world :

Where no man never comes, but that sad dog And, for because the world is populous,

That brings me food, to make inisfortune live!



shall say.

Groem. I was a poor groom of thy stable, king, Is-that the rebels have consum'd with fire
When thou wert king; who, travelling towards York, || Our town of Cicester in Glostershire;
With much ado, at length have gotten leave

But whether they be ta'en, or slain, we hear not.
To knok upon my sometimes master's face.
O, how it yern'd my heart, when I beheld,

Enter Northumberland. In London streets, that coronation day,

Welcome, my lord: What is the news? When Bolingbroke rode on roan Barbary!

North. First, to thy sacred state wish I all happiness. That horse, that thou so often hast bestrid ;

The next news is, I have to London sent That borse, that I so carefully have dressid !

The heads of Salisbury, Spencer, Blunt, and Kent: K. Rich. Rode he on Barbary? Tell me, gentle | The manner of their taking may appear friend,

At large discoursed in this paper here. How went he under him?

(Presenting a paper. Groom. So proudly, as if he disdain'd the ground. Bol. We thank thee, gentle Percy, for thy pains ; K. Rich. So proud that Bolingbroke was on his back! And to thy worth will add right worthy gains. That jade hath eat bread from my royal hand; This hand hath made him proud with clapping him.

Enter Fitzwater. Would he not stumble? Would he not fall down, Fitz. My lord, I have from Oxford sent to London (Since pride must have a fall,) and break the neck The heads of Brocas, and sir Bennet Seely ; Of that proud man that did usurp his back ?

Two of the dangerous consorted traitors, Forgiveness, horse! why do I rail on thee,

That sought at Oxford thy dire overthrow.i Since thou, created to be awd by man,

Bol. Thy pains, Fitzwater, shall not be forgot; Wast born to bear? I was not made a horse ;

Right poble is thy merit, well I wot.
And yet I bear a burden like an ass,
Spurgall?d, and tird, by jauncing Bolingbroke.

Enter Percy, with the Bishop of Carlisle.
Enter Keeper, with a dish.

Percy. The grand conspirator, abbot of WestminKeep. Fellow, give place; here is no longer stay,

[To the Groom.

With clog of conscience, and sour melancholy,
R. Rich. If thou love me, 'tis time thou wert away. Hath yielded up his body to the grave;
Groom. What my tongue dares not, that heart

But here is Carlisle living, to abide

[Exit. Thy kingly doom, and sentence of his pride Keep. My lord, will't please you to fall to ?

Bol. Carlisle, this is your doom : K. Rich, Taste of it first, as thou art wont to do.

Choose out some seeret place, some reverend room, Keep. My lord, I dare not; sir Pierce of Exton, who More than thou hast, and with it joy thy life; Lately came from the king, commands the contrary. So, as thou liv'st in peace, die free from strife; K. Rich. The devil take Henry of Lancaster and For though mine enemy thou hast ever been, thee!

High sparks of honour in thee have I seen. Patience is stale, and I am weary of it.

[Beats the Keeper.!

Enter Exton, with Attendants, bearing a Coffin, Keep. Help, help, help!

Exton. Great king, within this coffin I present Enter Exton and Servants, armed.

Thy buried fear: herein all breathless lies K. Rich. How now? what means death in this rude The mightiest of thy greatest enemies, assault?

Richard of Bordeaux, by me hither brought. Villain, thy own hand yields thy death's instrument. Bol. Exton, I thank thee not; for thou hast wrought

(Snatching a weapon, and killing one. A deed of slander, with thy fatal band, Go thou, and fill another room in hell.

Upon my head, and all this famous land. [He kills another, then Exton strikes him down. Exton. From your own mouth, my lord, did I this That hand shall burn in never-quenching fire,

deed. That staggers thus my person-Exton, thy fierce hand Bol. They love not poison that do poison need, Hath with the king's blood staind the king's own land. Nor do I thee; though I did wish him dead, Mount

, mount, my soul! thy seat is up on high ; I hate the murderer, love him murdered. Whilst my gross flesh sinks downward, here to die ! The guilt of conscience take chou for thy labour,

[Dies. | But neither my good word, nor princely favour: Exten. As full of valour, as of royal blood : With Cain go wander through the shade of night, Both have I spilt; 0, would the deed were good! And never show thy head by day nor light. For now the devil, that told me,I did well,

Lords, I protest, my soul is full of woe, Say, that this deed is chronicled in hell.

That blood sbould sprinkle me, to make me grow:
This dead king to the living king I'll bear ; Come, moum with me for what I do lament,
Take hence the rest, and give them burial here. And put on sullen black incontinent;

[Exount. I'll make a voyage to the Holy-land,
A Room in the Castle. To wash this blood off from my guilty hand :-
Enter Bolingbroke, and York, with March sadly after; grace my mournings here,

In, weeping after this untimely bier. [Exeunte Bs. Kind uncle York, the latest news we hear,

SCENE VI-Windsor.


Lords and! Attenslants.

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King Henry the Fourth.
Henry, Prince of Wales,
Prince John

of Lancaster, } sons to the king. Earl of Westmoreland, Sir Walter Blunt,

} friends to the king. Thomas Perey, carl of Worcester. Henry Percy, earl of Northumberland : Henry Percy, sur named Hotspur, his son. Edinund Mortimer, carl of March. Seroop, archbishop of York. Archibald, carl of Douglas. Owen Glendower. Sir Richard Vernon. Sir John Falstaff.

Lady Percy, wife to Hotspur, and sister to Mortimer.
Lady Mortimer, daughter to Glendower, and wife to

Mrs. Quickly, hostess of a tavern in Eastcheap.
Lords, Officers, Sheriff, Vintner, Chamberlain, Draro.
ers, Two Carriers, Travellers, and Attendants.

SCENE, England.



In forwarding this dear expedience.

West. My liege, this haste was hot in question,
And many limits of the charge set down
But yesternight: when, all athwart, there came
A post from Wales, loaden with heavy news;
Whose worst was,-that the noble Mortimer
Leading the men of Herefordshire to fight
Against the irregular and wild Glendower,
Was by the rude hands of that Welshman taken,
And a thousand of his people butchered:
Upon whose dead corps there was such misuse,
Such beastly, shameless transformation,
By those Welshwomen done, as may not be,
Without much shame, retold or spoken of.

K. Hen. It seems then, that the tidings of this broil Break off our business for the Holy land.

West. This, match'd with other, did, my gracious

lord ;

SCENE 1.-London. A Room in the Palace. Enter

King Henry, Westmoreland, Sir Walter Blunt, and others.

King Henry. shaken as we are, so wan with care, Find ve a time for frighted peace to pant, And breathe short-winded accents of new broils To be commenc'd in stronds afar remote. No more the thirsty Erinnys of this soil Shall daub her lips with her own children's blood; No more shall trenching war channel her fields, Nor bruise her flowrets with the armed hoofs Of hostile paces : those opposed eyes, Which, like the meteors of a troubled heaven, All of one nature, of one substance bral, Did lately meet in the intestine shock And furious close of civil butchery, Stall now, in mutual, well-beseeming ranks, March all one way; and be no more oppos’d Against acquaintance, kindred, and allies : The edge of war, like an ill-sheathed knife, No more shall cut his master. Therefore, friends, As far as to the sepalchre of Christ, (Whose sollier row, under whose blessed cross We are impressed and engag'd to fight,) Forthwith a power of English shall we levy; Whose arms were moulded in their mothers' womb To chase these pagans, in those holy fields, Orer whose acres walk'd those blessed feet, Which, fourteen hundred years ago, were naila For our advantage, on the bitter cross. But this our purpose is a tweive-month old, Aud bootless 'tis to tell you-we will go; Torrefore we meet not now:-Then let me hear Of jou, my gentle cousin Westmoreland, Vhat yesternight our council did decree,

For more uneven and unwelcome news
Came from the north, and thus it did irnport.
On Holy-rood day, the gallant Hotspur there,
Young Harry Percy, and brave Archibald,
That ever-valiant and approved Scot,
At Holmedon met.
Where they did spend a sad and bloody hour;
As by discharge of their artillery,
And shape of likelihood, the news was told ;
For he that brought them, in the very heat
And pride of their contention did take horse,
Uncertain of the issue any way.

K. Hen. Here is a dear and true-industrious friend,
Sir Walter Blunt, new lighted from his horse,
Staind with the variation of each soil
Betwixt that Holmedon and this seat of ours;
And he bath brought us smooth and welcome news.
The earl of Douglas is discomfited;
Ten thousand bold Scots, two-and-twenty knights,
Balk'd in their own blood, did Sir Walter see

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On Holmedon's plains: Of prisoners, Hotspur took being governed as the sea is, by our noble and chase Mordake the earl of Fife, and eldest son

mistress the moon, under whose countenance weTo beaten Douglas; and the earls of Athol,

steal. Of Murray, Angus, and Menteith.

P. Hen. Thou say'st well; and it holds well too: And is not this an honourable spoil ?

for the fortune of us, that are the moon's men, doth A gallant prize ? ha, cousin, is it not?

ebb and Aow like the sea; being governed as the sea West. In faith,

is, by the moon. As, for proof, now : A purse of gold! It is a conquest for a prince to boast of.

most resolutely snatched on Monday night, and most K. Hen. Yea, there thou mak'st me sad, and mak'st dissolutely spent on Tuesday morning: got with swearme sin

ing-lay by; and spent with crying-bring in; nos, In envy that my lord Northumberland

in as low an ebb as the foot of the ladder; and, by and Should be the father of so blest a son:

by, in as high a flow as the ridge of the gallows. A son, who is the theme of honour's tongue;

Pal. By the lord, thou say'st true, lad. And is Dos Amongst a grove, the very straightest plant;

my hostess of the tavern a most sweet wench? Who is sweet fortune's minion, and her pride:

P. Hen. As the honey of Hybla, my old lad of the Whilst I, by looking on the praise of him,

castle. And is not a buff jerkin a most sweet role of See riot and dishonour stain the brow

durance? of my young Harry. O, that it could be provid, Fal. How now, how now, mad wag? what, in thy That some night-tripping fairy bad exchang'd quips, and they quiddities? what a plague have I to da In cradle-clothes our children where they lay, with a buff jerkin? And call'd mine-Percy, his-Plantagenet !

P. Hen. Why, what a pox have I to do with my 'Then would I have his Harry, and he mine.

hostess of the tavern? But let him from my thoughts :-What think you, coz', Fal. Well, thou hast called her to a reckoning, må Of this young Percy's pride? the prisoners,

ny a time and oft. Which he in this adventure hath surpris'd,

P. Hen. Did I ever call for thee to pay thy part? To his own use he keeps ; and sends me word,

Fal. No; I'll give thee thy due, thou hast paid a!! I shall bave none but Mordake earl of Fife.

there. West. This is his uncle's reaching, this is Worcester, P. Hen. Yea, and elsewhere, so far as my coin would Malevolent to you in all aspects ;

stretch ; and, where it would not, I have used by Which makes him prune himself, and bristle up

credit. The crest of youth against your dignity.

Fal. Yea, and so used it, that were it not here apK. Hen. But I have sent for him to answer this ; parent that thou art heir apparent,-But, I pryther And, for this cause, awhile we must neglect

sweet wag, shall there be gallows standing in Englan:! Our holy purpose to Jerusalem.

when thou art king ? and resolution thus fobbed as it Cousin, on Wednesday next our council we

is, with the rusty curb of old father antie the las We will hold at Windsor, so inform the lords : Do not thou, when thou art king, hang a thies, But come yourself with speed to us again;

P. Hen. No; thou shalt. For more is to be said, and to be done,

Fal. Shall I ? O rare! By the Lord, I'll be a brave Than out of anger can be uttered.

judge. West. I will, my liege.

(Exeunt. P. Hen. Thou judgest false already; I mean, the

shalt have the hanging of the thieves, and so becc. SCENE II.-The same. Another Room in the Pal.

a rare hangman. ace. Enter Henry Prince of Wales, and Falstaff.

Fal. Well, Hal, well; and in some sort it jumps Fal. Now, Hal, what time of day is it, lad ?

with my humour, as well as waiting in the court, I P. Hens. Thou art so fat-witted, with drinking of can tell you. old sack, and unbuttoning the after supper, and sleep P. Hen. For obtaining of suits ? ing upon benches after noon, that thou hast forgotten Fal. Yen, for obtaining of suits : whereof the hang to demand that truly which thou would'st truly know. man hath no lean wardrobe. 'Sblood, I am as metar What a devil hast thou to do with the time of the choly as a gib cat, or a lugged bear. day? unless hours were cups of sack, and minutes ca P. Hen. Or an old lion ; or a lover's lute. pons, and clocks the tongues of bawds, and dials the Fal. Yea, or the drone of a Lincolnshire bagpipe. signs of leaping-houses, and the blessed sun himself a P. Hen. What sayest thou to a hare, or the melan fair hot wench in flame-colour'd taffata ; I see no rea choly of Moor-ditch ? son, why thou should'st be so superfluous to demand Fal. Thou hast the most unsavory similes; and ars the time of the day.

indeed, the most comparative, rascalliest,-sweet powin Fal. Indeed, you come near me, now, Hal: for we, prince,-But, Hal, I prythee, trouble me no more with that take purses, go by the moon and seven stars; and vanity. I would to God, thou and I knew where: not by Phæbus,-he, that wandering knight so fair. commodity of good names were to be bought: Anek! And, I pray thee, sweet wag, when thou art king-as, lord of the council rated me the other day in the stree? God save thy grace, (majesty, I should say; for grace | about you, sir; but I marked him not: and yet be thou wilt have none.)

talked very wisely; but I regarded him not: and ye? P. Hen. What ! none?

he talked wisely, and in the street too. Fal. No, by my troth; not so much as will serve to P. Hen. Thou did'st well; for wisdom cries out in be prologue to an egg and butter.

the streets, and no man regards it. P. Hen. Well, how then ? come, roundly, roundly. Fal. O thou hast damnable iteration ; and art, is

Fal. Marry, then, sweet wag, when thou art king, | deed, able to corrupt a saint. Thou hast done much let not us, that are squires of the night's body, be call. harm upon me, Hal,—God forgive thee for it! Before ed thieves of the day's beauty; let us be-Diana's for. I knew thee, Hal, I knew nothing; and now ara I, il esters, gentlemen of the shade, minions of the moon : a man should speak truly, little better than one of the And let mren say, we be men of good government; I wicked. I must give over this life, and I will give it

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