« VorigeDoorgaan »
A good sherris-sack (2) 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, a full of nimble, fiery, and delectable shapes; which delivered 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 puffed up with his 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 humant principle I would teach them, should be,-to forwear thin potations, and to addict themselves to sack.
Enter BARDOLPH. How now, Bardolph ?
BARD. The army is discharged all, and gone.
Fal. Let them go. I'll through Gloucestershire; and there will I visit master Robert Shallow, esquire: I have him already tempering between my finger and my thumb, and shortly will I seal with him. Come away.
SCENE IV.-Westminster. A Room in the Palace.
Enter KING HENRY, CLARENCE, PRINCE HUMPHREY,
WARWICK, and others.
K. HEN. Now, lords, if God $ doth give successful 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 sanctified.
Our navy is address'd, our power collected,
Our substitutes in absence well invested,
And every thing lies level to our wish :
(*) Old text, extremes.
(1) First folio, illuminateth. (1) First folio omits, human.
First folio, heaven. a Forgetive,-) Inventive, imaginative.
b The voice, (the tongue,) - Tongue was, possibly, only an interlineation, the poet not having determined whether to adopt“ voice" or " tongue."
c Kept by a devil,–] It was superstitiously believed formerly that mines of gold were guarded by evil spirits.
Address'd, -] Prepared. See note (), Vol. I., p. 577.
Only, we want a little personal strength;
And pause us, till these rebels, now a-foot,
Come underneath the yoke of government.
WAR. Both which, we doubt not but your majesty
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 ?
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 brother?
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, and as sudden
As flaws congealed in the spring of day.
His temper, therefore, must be well obsery'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, Thomas,
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,
* If he be observ'd;] That is, respectfully treated.
And he, the noble image of my youth,
Is over-spread with them : therefore my grief
Stretches itself beyond the hour of death.
The blood weeps from my heart, when I do shape,
In forms imaginary, the unguided days,
And rotten times, that you shall look upon
When I am sleeping with my ancestors.
For when his headstrong riot hath no curb,
When rage and hot blood are his counsellors,
When means and lavish manners meet together,
O, with what wings shall his affections fiy
Towards fronting peril and oppos'd decay!
WAR. My gracious lord, you look beyond him quite :
The prince but studies his companions,
Like a strange tongue; wherein, to gain the language,
'T is needful, that the most immodest word
Be look'd upon, and learn'd; which once attain'd,
Your highness knows, comes to no further use,
But to be known, and hated. So, like gross terms,
The prince will, in the perfectness of time,
Cast off his followers; and their memory
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. 'T is seldom-when the bee doth leave her comb
In the dead carrion.—Who's here? Westmoreland ?
WEST. Health to my sovereign! and new happiness
Added to that that I am to deliver !
Prince John, your son, doth kiss your grace's hand :
Mowbray, the bishop Scroop, Hastings, and all,
Are brought to the correction of your law;
There is not now a rebel's sword unsheath’d,
But peace puts forth her olive everywhere.
The manner how this action hath been borne,
Here, at more leisure, may your highness read,
With every course, in his particular.
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.
HAR. From enemies heaven keep your majesty ;
And, when they stand against you, may they fall
• But to be known, and hated.-] This is very like a passage in Terence :
- quo modo adolescentulus Meretricum ingenia et mores posset noscere,
Mature ut cum cognovit, perpetuo oderit.” b Seldom-when-] This is usually printed "seldom, when.” Mr. Singer first suggested that it was a compound word, signifying rarely, not often.
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 shrieve* 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,
But write her fair words still in foulest letters ? a
She either gives a stomach, and no food,
Such are the poor, in health : or else a feast,
And takes away the stomach,—such are the rich,
That have abundance, and enjoy it not.
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!
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,that should confine it in,
So thin, that life looks through, and will break out.
P. HUMPH. The people fear me ;c for they do observe
Unfather'd heirs, (3) and loathly births of nature:
The seasons change their manners, as the year
Had found some months asleep, and leap'd them over.
CLA. The river hath thrice flow'd, no ebb between;
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 apoplexy 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.
(*) First folio, sheriff. » But write her fair words still in foulest letters?] The quarto reads :
:,"But wet her faire words still in foulest termes." 1 Hath wrought the mure,-) IIath worn the wall, &c. Daniel, in his “Civil Wars," 1595, Book III. st. 116, referring to the sickness of Henry the Fourth, has a parallel thought :
“Wearing the wall so thin, that now the mind
Might well look thorough, and his frailtie find." . The people fear me ;] The people alarm me, make me afraid. d Observe-] That is, reverence. e As the year-] As if the year.
Let there be no noise made, my gentle friends;
Unless some dulla and favourable hand
Will whisper music to my weary spirit.
WAR. Call for the music in the other room.
K. HEN. Set me the crown upon my pillow here.
CLA. His eye is hollow, and he changes much.
WAR. Less noise, less noise.
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.
Heard he the good news yet?
Tell it him.
P. HUMPH. He alter'd much upon the hearing it.
P. HEN. If he be sick with joy, Ile will recover without physic.
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.
[Ereunt 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
To many a watchful night !-sleep with it now!
Yet not so sound, and half so deeply sweet,
As he, whose brow, with homely bigginb bound,
Snores out the watch of night. O majesty!
When thou dost pinch thy bearer, thou dost sit
Like a rich armour worn in heat of day,
That scalds with safety. By his gates of breath
There lies a downy feather, which stirs not:
Did he suspire, that light and weightless down
Perforce must move.—My gracious lord! my father!
This sleep is sound indeed, this is a sleep,
That from this golden rigolc hath divorc'd
So many English kings. Thy due, from me,
Is tears, and heavy sorrows of the blood;
Which nature, love, and filial tenderness,
Shall, O dear father, pay thee plenteously :
My due, from thee, is this imperial crown,
Which, as immediate from thy place and blood,
* Some dull-] Dull here appears to signify, quiet, soft.
• Homely biggin-] Biggin was a coif, so named, according to Steevens, from the cap worn by an order of nuns, called Beguines.
© Rigol-- ) A word thought peculiar to Shakespeare, signifying a round or circle.