P. Hen. From a god to a bull? a heavy descension! it was Jove's case. From a prince to a prentice? a low transformation! that shall be mine: for, in every thing, the purpose must weigh with the folly.

Enter PETO.

Peto, how now? what news?

Peto. The king, your father is at Westminster; And there are twenty weak and wearied posts, Come from the north: and, as I came along, I met, and overtook, a dozen captains, Bare-headed, sweating, knocking at the taverns, And asking every one for sir John Falstaff.

P. Hen. By heaven, Poins, I feel me much to blame,

So idly to profane the precious time;

When tempest of commotion, like the south,
Borne with black vapour, doth begin to melt,
And drop upon our bare unarmed heads.

Give me my sword and cloak :—and, Poins, good night.

[Exeunt.

SCENE III.

Warkworth. Before the Castle.

Enter NORTHUMBERLAND, Lady NORTHUMBERLAND, and Lady PERCY.

North. I pray thee, loving wife, and gentle
daughter,

Give even way unto my rough affairs:
Put not you on the visage of the times,
And be, like them, to Percy troublesome.

Lady N. I have given over, I will speak no more: Do what you will; your wisdom be your guide.

North. Alas, sweet wife, my honour is at pawn; And, but my going, nothing can redeem it.

Lady P. O, yet, for heaven's sake, go not to these wars!

The time was, father, that you broke your word,
When you were more endear'd to it than now;
When your own Percy, when my heart's dear Harry,
Threw many a northward look to see his father
Bring up his powers; but he did long in vain.
Who then persuaded you to stay at home?
There were two honours lost; yours, and your
For yours, may heavenly glory brighten it!
For his-it stuck upon him, as the sun
In the grey vault of heaven: and by his light,
Did all the chivalry of England move

son's.

To do brave acts; he was, indeed, the glass
Wherein the noble youth did dress themselves.
He had no legs, that practis'd not his gait :
And speaking thick, which nature made his blemish,
Became the accepts of the valiant ;

For those that could speak low, and tardily,
Would turn their own perfection to abuse,
To seem like him: So that, in speech, in gait,
In diet, in affections of delight,

In military rules, humours of blood,

He was the mark and glass, copy and book,
That fashion'd others. And him,- O wondrous
him!

O miracle of men! -him did you leave,
(Second to none, unseconded by you,)
To look upon the hideous god of war
In disadvantage; to abide a field,

Where nothing but the sound of Hotspur's name
Did seem defensible, so you left him:
Never, O never, do his ghost the wrong,
To hold your honour more precise and nice
With others, than with him; let them alone;
The marshal, and the archbishop, are strong:
Had my sweet Harry had but half their numbers,

To-day might I, hanging on Hotspur's neck,
Have talk'd of Monmouth's grave.

Beshrew your heart,

North.
Fair daughter! you do draw my spirits from me,
With new lamenting ancient oversights.

But I must go, and meet with danger there;
Or it will seek me in another place,

And find me worse provided.

Lady N.

O, fly to Scotland,

Till that the nobles, and the armed commons,

Have of their puissance made a little taste.

Lady P. If they get ground and vantage of the king,

Then join you with them, like a rib of steel,
To make strength stronger; but, for all our loves,
First let them try themselves: So did your son;
He was so suffer'd: So came I a widow ;
And never shall have length of life enough,
To rain upon remembrance with mine eyes,
That it may grow and sprout as high as heaven,
For recordation to my noble husband.

North. Come, come, go in with me: 'tis with my mind,

As with the tide swell'd up unto its height,
That makes a still-stand, running either way.
Fain would I go to meet the archbishop,
But many thousand reasons hold me back:
I will resolve for Scotland; there am I,
Till time and vantage crave my company.

[Exeunt.

ACT THE THIRD.

SCENE I.

A Room in the Palace.

Enter King HENRY in his Night-gown, with a Page. K. Hen. Go, call the earls of Surrey and of War

wick;

But, ere they come, bid them o'er-read these

letters,

And well consider of them: Make good speed.
[Exit Page.
How many thousand of my poorest subjects
Are at this hour asleep! - Sleep, gentle sleep,
Nature's soft nurse, how have I frighted thee,
That thou no more wilt weigh my eyelids down,
And steep my senses in forgetfulness?
Why rather, sleep, liest thou in smoky cribs,
Upon uneasy pallets stretching thee,

And hush'd with buzzing night-flies to thy slumber;
Than in the perfum'd chambers of the great,
Under the canopies of costly state,

And lull'd with sounds of sweetest melody?
O thou dull god, why liest thou with the vile,
In loathsome beds; and leav'st the kingly couch,
A watch-case, or a common 'larum bell?
Wilt thou upon the high and giddy mast
Seal up the ship-boy's eyes, and rock his brains
In cradle of the rude imperious surge;
And in the visitation of the winds,

Who take the ruffian billows by the top,

Curling their monstrous heads, and hanging them With deaf'ning clamours in the slippery clouds,

That, with the hurly, death itself awakes?
Can'st thou, O partial sleep! give thy repose
To the wet sea-boy in an hour so rude;
And, in the calmest and most stillest night,
With all appliances and means to boot,
Deny it to a king? Then, happy low ', lie down!
Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown.

Enter WARWICK and SURREY.

War. Many good morrows to your majesty !
K. Hen. Is it good morrow, lords?

War. 'Tis one o'clock, and past.

K. Hen. Why then, good morrow to you all, my lords.

Have you read o'er the letters that I sent you?
War. We have, my liege.

K. Hen. Then you perceive, the body of our
kingdom

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 his former strength may be restor❜d,
With good advice, and little medicine:
My lord Northumberland will soon be cool'd.
K. Hen. O heaven! that one might read the book
of fate;

And see the revolution of the times

Make mountains level, and the continent

(Weary of solid firmness,) melt itself

Into the sea! and, other times, to see

The beachy girdle of the ocean

Too wide for Neptune'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 past, what crosses to ensue,

9 Noise.

I Those in lowly situations.