Only we want a little perfonal ftrength,

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 foon enjoy.

K. Henry. Humphry, my fon of Gloucester, Where is the Prince your brother?

Glou. I think, he's gone to hunt, my lord, at Windfor.

K. Henry. And how accompanied?

Glou. I do not know, my lord.

K. Henry. Is not his brother, Thomas of Clarence,
with him?

Glou. No, my good lord, he is in presence here.
Cla. 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 haft a better place in his affection,
Than all thy brothers; cherish it, my boy;
And noble offices thou may'ft effect
Of mediation, after I am dead,

Between his greatnefs and thy other brethren.
Therefore omit him not; blunt not his love;
Nor lofe the good advantage of his grace,
By feeming cold, or careless of his will,
For he is gracious, if he be obferv'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 humourous as winter, and as fudden

3

His temper therefore must be well obferv'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 paflions, like a Whale on ground,
Confound themelves with working. Learn this,
Thomas,

And thou fhalt prove a fhelter to thy friends,
A hoop of gold to bind thy brothers in,
That the united veffel of their blood,
Mingled with venom of fuggeftion,
As, force-per-force, the age will pour it in,
Shall never leak, though it doth work as strong
As Aconitum, or 5 rafh gun-powder.

Cla. I fhall obferve him with all care and love.
K. Henry, Why art thou not at Windfor with him,
Thomas?

Cla. He is not there to day; he dines in London.
K. Henry. And how accompanied? canft thou tell

that?

Cla. With Poins, and other his continual followers. K. Henry. Moft fubject is the fatteft foil to weeds; And he, the noble image of my youth,

Is over fpread with them; therefore my grief
Stretches it felf beyond the hour of death.

The blood weeps from my heart, when I do fhape,
In forms imaginary, th' unguided days
And rotten times that you fhall look upon,
When I am fleeping with my ancestors.
For when his headitiong riot hath no curb,
When rage
and hot blood are his counfellors,
When means and lavish manners meet together,

intenfe towards the morning) and being afterwards railed and let loofe by the warmth of the fun, occafion thofe fudden and impetuous gufts of wind which are called F.aws. HANMER.

5 Ref gun porder] Pa is quic', a olent, fudan. This reprefentation of the prince, is a natural picture of a young man whofe pations are yet too strong for his virtues.

Y 2

Oh,

Oh, with what wings fhall his * affection fly
Tow'rd fronting peril and oppos'd decay?

War. My gracious lord, you look beyond him quite; The Prince but ftudies his companions,

Like a frange tongue, wherein to gain the language, "Tis needful, that the moft immodeft word

Be look'd upon and learn'd; which once attain'd,
Your highness knows, comes to no farther ufe,
But to be known and hated. So, like grofs terms,
The Prince will in the perfectnefs of time
Caft off his followers; and their memory
Shall as a pattern or a measure live,

By which his grace muft mète the lives of others;
Turning paft evils to advantages.

K. Henry. 'Tis feldom, when the Bee doth leave her comb

In the dead carrion.-Who's here? Westmorland!

Weft. Health to my Sovereign, and new happiness Added to that, which I am to deliver!

Prince John, your fon, doth kifs your Grace's hand:
Mowbray, the Bishop Scroop, Haftings, and all,
Are brought to the correction of

your Law;
There is not now a rebel's fword unfheath'd,
But Peace puts forth her Olive ev'ry where.
The manner how this action hath been borne,
Here at more leifure may your Highness read,
With every course, 7 in his particular.

*—his affection] His paffions; his inordinate defires.

6 'Tis feldom when the bee, &c] As the bee, having once placed her comb in a carcafe, ftays by her honey, fo he that has once

K. Henry.

K. Henry. O Westmorland, thou art a fummer bird, Which ever in the haunch of winter fings

The lifting up of day.

Enter Harcourt.

Look, here's more news.

Har. From enemies heav'n keep your Majefty:
And, when they ftand againft you, may they fail
As thofe that I am come to tell you of!

The Earl Northumberland, and the lord Bardolph,
With a great Pow'r of English and of Scots,
Are by the Sh'riff of Yorkshire overthrown.
The manner and true order of the fight,
This packet, please it you, contains at large.

K. Henry. And wherefore fhould these good news make me fick?

Will fortune never come with both hands full,
But write her fair words ftill in fouleft letters?
She either gives a ftomach, and no food;
Such are the poor, in health; or else a feast,
And takes away the ftomach; fuch the rich,
That have abundance and enjoy it not.
I fhould rejoice now at this happy news,
And now my fight fails, and my brain is giddy.
me, come near me, now I am much ill!

0

Glou. Comfort your Majefty!

Cla. Oh, my royal father!

Weft. My fovereign lord, chear up your felf, look up. War. Be patient, Princes; you do know, these fits Are with his Highnefs very ordinary.

pangs;

Stand from him, give him air; he'll ftraight be well.
Cla. No, no, he cannot long hold out these
Th' inceffant care and labour of his mind
'Hath wrought the mure, that should confine it in,

that is, in this detail, in this ac- 8 Hath wrought the mure,-]

Count which is minute and diftinct.

i. e. the wall,

POPE.

So thin, that life looks through, and will break out.
Glou. The people fear me; for they do obferve
Unfather'd heirs and loathly birds of Nature.
2 The Scafons change their manners, as the year
Had found fome months afleep, 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 fo a little time before

That our great Granfire Edward fick'd and dy'd.
War. Speak lower, Princes, for the King recovers.
Glou. This apoplex will, certain, be his end.

K. Henry. I pray you, take me up, and bear me

hence

Into fome other chamber. Softly, 'pray.
Let there be no noife made, my gentle friends,
3 Unless fome dull and favourable hand

Will whisper mufick to my weary spirit.

War. Call for the mufick in the other room.
K. Henry. Set me the crown upon the pillow here.
Cla. His eye is hollow, and he changes much.
War. Lefs noise, less noife.