Complete Plays, The

by William Shakespeare

For now a time is come to mock at form:

  Harry the Fifth is crown’d: up, vanity!

  Down, royal state! all you sage counsellors, hence!

  And to the English court assemble now,

  From every region, apes of idleness!

  Now, neighbour confines, purge you of your scum:

  Have you a ruffian that will swear, drink, dance,

  Revel the night, rob, murder, and commit

  The oldest sins the newest kind of ways?

  Be happy, he will trouble you no more;

  England shall double gild his treble guilt,

  England shall give him office, honour, might;

  For the fifth Harry from curb’d licence plucks

  The muzzle of restraint, and the wild dog

  Shall flesh his tooth on every innocent.

  O my poor kingdom, sick with civil blows!

  When that my care could not withhold thy riots,

  What wilt thou do when riot is thy care?

  O, thou wilt be a wilderness again,

  Peopled with wolves, thy old inhabitants!

  Prince Henry

  O, pardon me, my liege! but for my tears,

  The moist impediments unto my speech,

  I had forestall’d this dear and deep rebuke

  Ere you with grief had spoke and I had heard

  The course of it so far. There is your crown;

  And He that wears the crown immortally

  Long guard it yours! If I affect it more

  Than as your honour and as your renown,

  Let me no more from this obedience rise,

  Which my most inward true and duteous spirit

  Teacheth, this prostrate and exterior bending.

  God witness with me, when I here came in,

  And found no course of breath within your majesty,

  How cold it struck my heart! If I do feign,

  O, let me in my present wildness die

  And never live to show the incredulous world

  The noble change that I have purposed!

  Coming to look on you, thinking you dead,

  And dead almost, my liege, to think you were,

  I spake unto this crown as having sense,

  And thus upbraided it: ‘The care on thee depending

  Hath fed upon the body of my father;

  Therefore, thou best of gold art worst of gold:

  Other, less fine in carat, is more precious,

  Preserving life in medicine potable;

  But thou, most fine, most honour’d: most renown’d,

  Hast eat thy bearer up.’ Thus, my most royal liege,

  Accusing it, I put it on my head,

  To try with it, as with an enemy

  That had before my face murder’d my father,

  The quarrel of a true inheritor.

  But if it did infect my blood with joy,

  Or swell my thoughts to any strain of pride;

  If any rebel or vain spirit of mine

  Did with the least affection of a welcome

  Give entertainment to the might of it,

  Let God for ever keep it from my head

  And make me as the poorest vassal is

  That doth with awe and terror kneel to it!

  King Henry IV

  O my son,

  God put it in thy mind to take it hence,

  That thou mightst win the more thy father’s love,

  Pleading so wisely in excuse of it!

  Come hither, Harry, sit thou by my bed;

  And hear, I think, the very latest counsel

  That ever I shall breathe. God knows, my son,

  By what by-paths and indirect crook’d ways

  I met this crown; and I myself know well

  How troublesome it sat upon my head.

  To thee it shall descend with bitter quiet,

  Better opinion, better confirmation;

  For all the soil of the achievement goes

  With me into the earth. It seem’d in me

  But as an honour snatch’d with boisterous hand,

  And I had many living to upbraid

  My gain of it by their assistances;

  Which daily grew to quarrel and to bloodshed,

  Wounding supposed peace: all these bold fears

  Thou see’st with peril I have answered;

  For all my reign hath been but as a scene

  Acting that argument: and now my death

  Changes the mode; for what in me was purchased,

  Falls upon thee in a more fairer sort;

  So thou the garland wear’st successively.

  Yet, though thou stand’st more sure than I could do,

  Thou art not firm enough, since griefs are green;

  And all my friends, which thou must make thy friends,

  Have but their stings and teeth newly ta’en out;

  By whose fell working I was first advanced

  And by whose power I well might lodge a fear

  To be again displaced: which to avoid,

  I cut them off; and had a purpose now

  To lead out many to the Holy Land,

  Lest rest and lying still might make them look

  Too near unto my state. Therefore, my Harry,

  Be it thy course to busy giddy minds

  With foreign quarrels; that action, hence borne out,

  May waste the memory of the former days.

  More would I, but my lungs are wasted so

  That strength of speech is utterly denied me.

  How I came by the crown, O God forgive;

  And grant it may with thee in true peace live!

  Prince Henry

  My gracious liege,

  You won it, wore it, kept it, gave it me;

  Then plain and right must my possession be:

  Which I with more than with a common pain

  ’Gainst all the world will rightfully maintain.

  Enter Lord John of Lancaster

  King Henry IV

  Look, look, here comes my John of Lancaster.

  Lancaster

  Health, peace, and happiness to my royal father!

  King Henry IV

  Thou bring’st me happiness and peace, son John;

  But health, alack, with youthful wings is flown

  From this bare wither’d trunk: upon thy sight

  My worldly business makes a period.

  Where is my Lord of Warwick?

  Prince Henry

  My Lord of Warwick!

  Enter Warwick, and others

  King Henry IV

  Doth any name particular belong

  Unto the lodging where I first did swoon?

  Warwick

  ’Tis call’d Jerusalem, my noble lord.

  King Henry IV

  Laud be to God! even there my life must end.

  It hath been prophesied to me many years,

  I should not die but in Jerusalem;

  Which vainly I supposed the Holy Land:

  But bear me to that chamber; there I’ll lie;

  In that Jerusalem shall Harry die.

  Exeunt

  ACT V

  SCENE I. GLOUCESTERSHIRE. SHALLOW’S HOUSE.

  Enter Shallow, Falstaff, Bardolph, and Page

  Shallow

  By cock and pie, sir, you shall not away to-night.

  What, Davy, I say!

  Falstaff

  You must excuse me, Master Robert Shallow.

  Shallow

  I will not excuse you; you shall not be excused; excuses shall not be admitted; there is no excuse shall serve; you shall not be excused. Why, Davy!

  Enter Davy

  Davy

  Here, sir.

  Shallow

  Davy, Davy, Davy, Davy, let me see, Davy; let me see, Davy; let me see: yea, marry, William cook, bid him come hither. Sir John, you shall not be excused.

  Davy

  Marry, sir, thus; those precepts cannot be served: and, again, sir, shall we sow the headland with wheat?<
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  Shallow

  With red wheat, Davy. But for William cook: are there no young pigeons?

  Davy

  Yes, sir. Here is now the smith’s note for shoeing and plough-irons.

  Shallow

  Let it be cast and paid. Sir John, you shall not be excused.

  Davy

  Now, sir, a new link to the bucket must need be had: and, sir, do you mean to stop any of William’s wages, about the sack he lost the other day at Hinckley fair?

  Shallow

  A’ shall answer it. Some pigeons, Davy, a couple of short-legged hens, a joint of mutton, and any pretty little tiny kickshaws, tell William cook.

  Davy

  Doth the man of war stay all night, sir?

  Shallow

  Yea, Davy. I will use him well: a friend i’ the court is better than a penny in purse. Use his men well, Davy; for they are arrant knaves, and will backbite.

  Davy

  No worse than they are backbitten, sir; for they have marvellous foul linen.

  Shallow

  Well conceited, Davy: about thy business, Davy.

  Davy

  I beseech you, sir, to countenance William Visor of

  Woncot against Clement Perkes of the hill.

  Shallow

  There is many complaints, Davy, against that Visor: that Visor is an arrant knave, on my knowledge.

  Davy

  I grant your worship that he is a knave, sir; but yet, God forbid, sir, but a knave should have some countenance at his friend’s request. An honest man, sir, is able to speak for himself, when a knave is not. I have served your worship truly, sir, this eight years; and if I cannot once or twice in a quarter bear out a knave against an honest man, I have but a very little credit with your worship. The knave is mine honest friend, sir; therefore, I beseech your worship, let him be countenanced.

  Shallow

  Go to; I say he shall have no wrong. Look about, Davy.

  Exit Davy

  Where are you, Sir John? Come, come, come, off with your boots. Give me your hand, Master Bardolph.

  Bardolph

  I am glad to see your worship.

  Shallow

  I thank thee with all my heart, kind

  Master Bardolph: and welcome, my tall fellow.

  To the Page

  Come, Sir John.

  Falstaff

  I’ll follow you, good Master Robert Shallow.

  Exit Shallow

  Bardolph, look to our horses.

  Exeunt Bardolph and Page

  If I were sawed into quantities, I should make four dozen of such bearded hermits’ staves as Master Shallow. It is a wonderful thing to see the semblable coherence of his men’s spirits and his: they, by observing of him, do bear themselves like foolish justices; he, by conversing with them, is turned into a justice-like serving-man: their spirits are so married in conjunction with the participation of society that they flock together in consent, like so many wild-geese. If I had a suit to Master Shallow, I would humour his men with the imputation of being near their master: if to his men, I would curry with Master Shallow that no man could better command his servants. It is certain that either wise bearing or ignorant carriage is caught, as men take diseases, one of another: therefore let men take heed of their company. I will devise matter enough out of this Shallow to keep Prince Harry in continual laughter the wearing out of six fashions, which is four terms, or two actions, and a’ shall laugh without intervallums. O, it is much that a lie with a slight oath and a jest with a sad brow will do with a fellow that never had the ache in his shoulders! O, you shall see him laugh till his face be like a wet cloak ill laid up!

  Shallow

  [Within] Sir John!

  Falstaff

  I come, Master Shallow; I come, Master Shallow.

  Exit

  SCENE II. WESTMINSTER. THE PALACE.

  Enter Warwick and the Lord Chief-Justice, meeting

  Warwick

  How now, my lord chief-justice! whither away?

  Lord Chief-Justice

  How doth the king?

  Warwick

  Exceeding well; his cares are now all ended.

  Lord Chief-Justice

  I hope, not dead.

  Warwick

  He’s walk’d the way of nature;

  And to our purposes he lives no more.

  Lord Chief-Justice

  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.

  Warwick

  Indeed I think the young king loves you not.

  Lord Chief-Justice

  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

  Warwick

  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!

  Lord Chief-Justice

  O God, I fear all will be overturn’d!

  Lancaster

  Good morrow, cousin Warwick, good morrow.

  Gloucester

  Clarence

  Good morrow, cousin.

  Lancaster

  We meet like men that had forgot to speak.

  Warwick

  We do remember; but our argument

  Is all too heavy to admit much talk.

  Lancaster

  Well, peace be with him that hath made us heavy.

  Lord Chief-Justice

  Peace be with us, lest we be heavier!

  Gloucester

  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.

  Lancaster

  Though no man be assured what grace to find,

  You stand in coldest expectation:

  I am the sorrier; would ’twere otherwise.

  Clarence

  Well, you must now speak Sir John Falstaff fair;

  Which swims against your stream of quality.

  Lord Chief-Justice

  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.

  Warwick

  Here comes the prince.

  Enter King Henry V, attended

  Lord Chief-Justice

  Good morrow; and God save your majesty!

  King Henry 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, by my faith, 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 assured,

  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.

  Princ
es

  We hope no other from your majesty.

  King Henry V

  You all look strangely on me: and you most;

  You are, I think, assured I love you not.

  Lord Chief-Justice

  I am assured, if I be measured rightly,

  Your majesty hath no just cause to hate me.

  King Henry 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?

  Lord Chief-Justice

  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 profaned,

  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 sovereignty.

  King Henry 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