Imatges de pÓgina
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War. Speak lower, princes, for the king recovers. P. Hum. This apoplex 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 into an inner part of the room, and place him on a bed.

Let there be no noise made, my gentle friends;
Unless some dull1 and favorable 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.

P. Hen.

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. Hum. Exceeding ill.

P. Hen.

Tell it him.

Heard he the good news yet?

P. Hum. He alter'd much upon the hearing it.

P. Hen. If he be sick

With joy, he will recover without physic.

Melancholy, soothing.

War. Not so much noise, my lords :-sweet prince, speak low;

The king your father is disposed to sleep.

Cla. Let us withdraw into the other room.

War. Will 't please your grace to go along with us?

king.

P. Hen. No; I will sit and watch here by the [Exeunt 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 biggin1 bound,
Snores out the watch of night. O majesty!
When thou dost pinch thy bearer, thou dost sit
Like a rich armor worn in heat of day,
That scalds with safety. By his gates of breath
There lies a downy feather, which stirs not:
Did be 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 rigol

2

hath divorced

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:

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My due, from thee, is this imperial crown,
Which, as immediate from thy place and blood,
Derives itself to me. Lo, here it sits,-

:

[putting it on his head.

Which Heaven shall guard and put the world's whole strength

Into one giant arm, it shall not force

This lineal honor from me. This from thee

Will I to mine leave, as 'tis left to me.

K. Hen. Warwick! Gloster! Clarence!

Cla.

Re-enter WARWICK, and the rest.

[Exit.

Doth the king call?

War. What would your majesty? How fares

your grace?

K. Hen. Why did you leave me here alone, my lords?

Cla. We left the prince my brother here, my

liege,

Who undertook to sit and watch by you.

K. Hen. The prince of Wales? Where is he? let me see him :

He is not here.

War. This door is open; he is gone this way. P. Hum. He came not through the chamber where we stay'd.

K. Hen. Where is the crown? who took it from my pillow?

War. When we withdrew, my liege, we left it

here.

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