THE EVENTS OF THE LATTER YEARS OF HENRY IV.; THE REFORMATION

OF THE PRINCE OF WALES, AND HIS ACCESSION TO THE THRONE;
INDICATED BY SUPPOSED SCENES AT THE ROYAL PALACE AT WEST-
MINSTER; AT JUSTICE SHALLOW'S IN GLO'STERSHIRE ;
PUBLIC PLACE NEAR WESTMINSTER ABBEY.

AND A

HISTORICAL MEMORANDA.

On the defeat of their party in the north, the earl of Northumberland and Lord Bardolf fed into Scotland ; but, returning in 1407, they were attacked by Sir Thomas Bramham, the sheriff of Yorkshire, and both of them slain in the action. Not long after this, the insurrections in Wales subsided through the death of Glendower. A period of six years intervened, during which, notwithstanding the uniform success that had put down all his enemies, Henry was subject to much inquietude of mind; and for some months before his death, which happened in March, 1413, he suffered from frequent fits, which bereaved him, for the time, of his senses, He was no sooner dead than the young prince called together his former companions, acquainted them with his intended reformation, exhorted them to imitate his example, but strictly inhibited them, till they had given proofs of their sincerity in this particular, from appearing any more in his presence ; and he thus dismissed them with liberal presents.

Henry IV. had four sons : Henry, who succeeded him; Thomas, duke of Clarence; prince John of Lancaster, afterwards created duke of Bedford ; and prince Humphrey of Gloucester, afterwards created duke of Gloucester.

We are to imagine the presence chamber in the palace at Westminster : the king is surrounded by the persons of his court, among whom are two of his sons, Thomas, duke of Clarence, and prince Humphrey of Gloucester ; also the earl of Warwick, who is in the immediate audience of the king. The king is thus speaking : [K. Henry.] Now, lords, if heaven 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.
Only we want a little perso’nal strength;
And pause us, till these rebels now afoot
Come underneath the yoke of government.

[Warwick.] Both which, we doubt not, but your majesty

Shall soon enjoy. [K. Henry.] Humphrey, my son of Glo'ster,

Where is the prince your brother? [P. Hum.] I think he's gone to hunt, my lord, at Windsor. [K. Henry.] And how accompanied ? [P. Humphrey.] I do not know, my lord. [K. Hen.] Is not his brother, Thoma's of Clarence, with him? [P. Humphrey.] No, my good lord; he is in presence here. [P. Thomas.] What would my lord and father? [K. Henry.] 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 mayst 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 and careless of his will. [P. Thomas.] I shall observe him with all care and love. [K. Hen.] Why art thou not at Windsor with him, Thomas ? [P. Thomas.] He is not there to-day ;-he dines in London. [K. Henry.] And how accompanied ? [P. Thomas.] With Poins, and other his continua'l followers. [K. Henry.] Most subject is the fattest soil to weeds;

And he, the noble image of my youth,
Is overspread with them :
The blood weeps from my heart, when I do shape
The unguarded days that you shall look upon,

When I am sleeping with my ancestors.
Could I but think he studied his companions
And would turn evils to advantages,
I might yet hope his reformation:
But seldom 'tis the bee doth leave her comb
In the dead carrion.-Seemeth some welcome friend
Yonder approaching. Westmorland, I think.

[a pause.] [Westmorland.] Health to my sovereign, and new happiness

Added to that which I am to deliver !
Prince John your son doth kiss your highness' hand :
Mowbray, the bishop Scrope, Hastings, and all,
Are brought to the correction of your law.
The manner how this action hath been gain’d,

Here, by these letters, shall your highness know.
[K. Henry.] O Westmorland, thou art a summer bird,

Which, even in the haunch of winter, sings
The lifting up of day. Hark! here's more news :

What say those messengers ?
[Westmorland.] They bring you word

The earl Northumberland and lord Bardolf
Are, by the sheriff of Yorkshire, overthrown:
To comfort you the more, there is receiv'd
News that Glendower 's dead.
There is not now a rebel's sword unsheath’d,
But peace puts forth her olive everywhere.

[me sick? [K. Henry.) And wherefore should these good news make

Will fortune never come with both hands full ?
I should rejoice now at these happy news;
And now my sight fails, and my brain is giddy :-

Oh me! come near me; now I am much ill. The king sinks down :—the princes assist him, and cxpress their grief : Warwick interposes: [Warwick.) Be patient, princes; you do know these fits

Are with his highness very ordinary.

Stand from him : give him air: softly! he recovers. [K. Henry.] I pray you bear me hence unto the couch:

Let there no noise be made, my gentle friends,

Unless some soft and favourable hand
Will whisper music to my weary spirit.

Set me my crown upon my pillow here. The prince of Wales comes in at this moment and speaks : [P. Henry.] Who saw my brother Clarence ? [P. Thomas.) I am here, brother. [P. Henry.] How doth the king ? [P. Thomas.] Exceeding ill :

His eye is hollow, and he changes much. [P. Henry.] Heard he the good news ?-tell it him. [P. Thomas.] He alter'd much upon the hearing it. Warwick interposes:

[speak low: [Warwick.] Not so much noise, my lords :-sweet prince,

The king your father is dispos’d to sleep.
We will withdraw into the other room :

Will i't please your grace to go along with us? [P. Henry.] No; I will sit and watch here by the king.–

[All leave the chamber but the prince.]
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, nor half so deeply sweet,
As he whose brow with homely biggin bound
Snores out the watch of night. O Majesty!
Thou’rt like 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, that weightless down
Perforce would move :-my gracious lord ! my father !
This sleep is sound indeed! this is a sleep
That, from this golden circle, hath divorc'd
So many English kings. Thy due from me

Is tears; which nature, love, and filial tenderness
Shall pay thee plenteously:
My due from thee is this imperial crown,
Which, as immediate from thy place and blood,
Derives itself to me :-Lo! here it sits, [strength
Which heaven shall guard. And put the world's whole
Into one giant arm, it shall not force
This lineal honour from me:-this, from thee,

Will I to mine leave, as ’tis left to me. The prince takes the crown with him into another room : the king awakes and calls : on which the other princes and the earl of Warwick come from the ante-chamber : prince Thomas speaks :

[grace ? [P. Thomas.] What would your majesty ?-how fares your [K. Henry.] Why did you leave me here alone, my lords ? [P. Thomas.] We left the prince my brother here, my liege, Who undertook to sit and watch by you.

see him : [K. Henry.] The prince of Wales ?—where is he?—let me He is not here.

[stay’d. [P. Thomas.] He came not through the chamber where we [K. Hen.] Where is my crown? who took it from my pillow? [P. Thomas.] When we withdrew, my liege, we left it here. [K. Hen.] Then must the prince have ta’en it : seek him out.

Is he so hasty that he doth suppose
My sleep my death?
Find him, lord Warwick, find him, a’nd chide him hither
This part of his conjoins with my disease,
And helps to end me. See, sons, what
For this do foolish over-careful fathers
Destroy their sleep with thought, their brains with care,
Their bones with industry; and when we've brought
The honey to the hive, then, like the bees,
We a're murder'd for our pains.