Westminster. An Apartment in the Palace. |
| |
Enter WARWICK and the LORD CHIEF JUSTICE. |
| War. How now, my Lord Chief Justice! whither away? |
| Ch. Just. How doth the king? |
| War. Exceeding well: his cares are now all ended. |
| Ch. Just. I hope not dead. |
| War. He's walk'd the way of nature; |
| And to our purposes he lives no more. |
| Ch. Just. I would his majesty had call'd me with him: |
| The service that I truly did his life |
| Hath left me open to all injuries. |
| War. Indeed I think the young king loves you not. |
| Ch. Just. I know he doth not, and do arm myself, |
| To welcome the condition of the time; |
| Which cannot look more hideously upon me |
| Than I have drawn it in my fantasy. |
| |
Enter LANCASTER, CLARENCE, GLOUCESTER, WESTMORELAND and Others. |
| War. Here come the heavy issue of dead Harry: |
| O! that the living Harry had the temper |
| Of him, the worst of these three gentlemen. |
| How many nobles then should hold their places, |
| That must strike sail to spirits of vile sort! |
| Ch. Just. O God! I fear all will be overturn'd. |
| Lanc. Good morrow, cousin Warwick, good morrow. |
| Glo. Good morrow, cousin. |
| Cla. |
| Lanc. We meet like men that had forgot to speak. |
| War. We do remember; but our argument |
| Is all too heavy to admit much talk. |
| Lanc. Well, peace be with him that hath made us heavy! |
| Ch. Just. Peace be with us, lest we be heavier! |
| Glo. O! good my lord, you have lost a friend indeed; |
| And I dare swear you borrow not that face |
| Of seeming sorrow; it is sure your own. |
| Lanc. Though no man be assur'd what grace to find, |
| You stand in coldest expectation. |
| I am the sorrier; would 'twere otherwise. |
| Cla. Well, you must now speak Sir John Falstaff fair, |
| Which swims against your stream of quality. |
| Ch. Just. Sweet princes, what I did, I did in honour, |
| Led by the impartial conduct of my soul; |
| And never shall you see that I will beg |
| A ragged and forestall'd remission. |
| If truth and upright innocency fail me, |
| I'll to the king my master that is dead, |
| And tell him who hath sent me after him. |
| War. Here comes the prince. |
| |
Enter KING HENRY THE FIFTH, attended. |
| Ch. Just. Good morrow, and God save your majesty! |
| K. Hen. V. This new and gorgeous garment, majesty, |
| Sits not so easy on me as you think. |
| Brothers, you mix your sadness with some fear: |
| This is the English, not the Turkish court; |
| Not Amurath an Amurath succeeds, |
| But Harry Harry. Yet be sad, good brothers, |
| For, to speak truth, it very well becomes you: |
| Sorrow so royally in you appears |
| That I will deeply put the fashion on |
| And wear it in my heart. Why then, be sad; |
| But entertain no more of it, good brothers, |
| Than a joint burden laid upon us all. |
| For me, by heaven, I bid you be assur'd, |
| I'll be your father and your brother too; |
| Let me but bear your love, I'll bear your cares: |
| Yet weep that Harry's dead, and so will I; |
| But Harry lives that shall convert those tears |
| By number into hours of happiness. |
| Lanc., &c. We hope no other from your majesty. |
| K. Hen. V. You all look strangely on me: [To the CHIEF JUSTICE.] and you most; |
| You are, I think, assur'd I love you not. |
| Ch. Just. I am assur'd, if I be measur'd rightly, |
| Your majesty hath no just cause to hate me. |
| K. Hen. V. No! |
| How might a prince of my great hopes forget |
| So great indignities you laid upon me? |
| What! rate, rebuke, and roughly send to prison |
| The immediate heir of England! Was this easy? |
| May this be wash'd in Lethe, and forgotten? |
| Ch. Just. I then did use the person of your father; |
| The image of his power lay then in me: |
| And, in the administration of his law, |
| Whiles I was busy for the commonwealth, |
| Your highness pleased to forget my place, |
| The majesty and power of law and justice, |
| The image of the king whom I presented, |
| And struck me in my very seat of judgment; |
| Whereon, as an offender to your father, |
| I gave bold way to my authority, |
| And did commit you. If the deed were ill, |
| Be you contented, wearing now the garland, |
| To have a son set your decrees at nought, |
| To pluck down justice from your awful bench, |
| To trip the course of law, and blunt the sword |
| That guards the peace and safety of your person: |
| Nay, more, to spurn at your most royal image |
| And mock your workings in a second body. |
| Question your royal thoughts, make the case yours; |
| Be now the father and propose a son, |
| Hear your own dignity so much profan'd, |
| See your most dreadful laws so loosely slighted, |
| Behold yourself so by a son disdain'd; |
| And then imagine me taking your part, |
| And in your power soft silencing your son: |
| After this cold considerance, sentence me; |
| And, as you are a king, speak in your state |
| What I have done that misbecame my place, |
| My person, or my liege's sov'reignty. |
| K. Hen. V. You are right, justice; and you weigh this well; |
| Therefore still bear the balance and the sword: |
| And I do wish your honours may increase |
| Till you do live to see a son of mine |
| Offend you and obey you, as I did. |
| So shall I live to speak my father's words: |
| 'Happy am I, that have a man so bold |
| That dares do justice on my proper son; |
| And not less happy, having such a son, |
| That would deliver up his greatness so |
| Into the hands of justice.' You did commit me: |
| For which, I do commit into your hand |
| The unstained sword that you have us'd to bear; |
| With this remembrance, that you use the same |
| With the like bold, just, and impartial spirit |
| As you have done 'gainst me. There is my hand: |
| You shall be as a father to my youth; |
| My voice shall sound as you do prompt mine ear, |
| And I will stoop and humble my intents |
| To your well-practis'd wise directions. |
| And, princes all, believe me, I beseech you; |
| My father is gone wild into his grave, |
| For in his tomb lie my affections; |
| And with his spirit sadly I survive, |
| To mock the expectation of the world, |
| To frustrate prophecies, and to raze out |
| Rotten opinion, who hath writ me down |
| After my seeming. The tide of blood in me |
| Hath proudly flow'd in vanity till now: |
| Now doth it turn and ebb back to the sea, |
| Where it shall mingle with the state of floods |
| And flow henceforth in formal majesty. |
| Now call we our high court of parliament; |
| And let us choose such limbs of noble counsel, |
| That the great body of our state may go |
| In equal rank with the best govern'd nation; |
| That war or peace, or both at once, may be |
| As things acquainted and familiar to us; |
| In which you, father, shall have foremost hand. |
| Our coronation done, we will accite, |
| As I before remember'd, all our state: |
| And, God consigning to my good intents, |
| No prince nor peer shall have just cause to say, |
| God shorten Harry's happy life one day. [Exeunt. |
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