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GREATER GRIEFS DESTROY THE LESS.

So dull, so dead in look, so wo-begone,
Drew Priam's curtain in the dead of night,
And would have told him, half his Troy, was

burn'd.
I see a strange confession in thine eye,
Thou shak’st thy head, and hold'st it fear, or sin,
To speak a truth.

If he be slain, say so:
The tongue offends, not that reports his death:
And he doth sin that does belie the dead;
Not he, which says the dead is not alive.
Yet the first bringer of unwelcome news
Hath but a losing office; and his tongue
Sounds ever after as a sullen bell,
Remember'd knolling a departing friend.

As the wretch, whose fever-weaken'd joints,
Like strengthless hinges buckle under life,
Impatient of his fit, breaks like a fire
Out of his keeper's arms; even so my limbs,
Weaken'd with grief, being now enrag'd with grie!
Are thrice themselves: hence therefore, thou nice

crutch; A scaly gauntlet now, with joints of steel, Must glove this hand: and hence, thou sickly quois, Thou art a guard too wanton for the head, Which princes, flesh'd with conquest, aim to hit Now bind my brows with iron; and approach The ragged'st hour that time and spite dare bring, To frown upon the enrag'd Northumberland! Let heaven kiss earth! Now let not nature's hand Keep the wild flood confin'd! let order die! And let this world no longer be a stage, To feed contention in a lingering act; But let one spirit of the first-born Cain Reign in all bosoms, that, each heart being set On bloody courses, the rude scene may end, And darkness be the burier of the dead.

THE FICKLENESS OF THE VULGAR,

An habitation giddy and unsure Hath he, that buildeth on the vulgar heart. * Trifling.

† Cap.

O thou fond many!* with what loud applause
Didst thou beat heaven with blessing Bolingbroke,
Before he was what thou would'st have him be?
And being now trimm’dt in thine own desires,
Thou, beastly feeder, art so full of him,
That thou provok’st thyself to cast him up.

ACT III.

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APOSTROPHE TO. SLEEP. Sleep: gentle sleep, Nature's soft nurse, how have I frighted thee, That thou no more wilt weigh my eyelids down, And steep my senses in forgetfulness? Why rather, sleep, liest thou in smoky cribs, Upon uneasy pallets stretching thee, And hush'd with buzzing night-flies to thy slum her Than in the persum'd chambers of the great, Under the canopies of costly state,

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And lull'd with sounds of sweetest melody.
O thou dull god, why liest thou with the vile,
In loathsome beds; and leav'st the kingly couch,
A watch-case, or a common 'laurum bell?
Wilt thou upon the high and giddy mast
Seal

up the ship-boy's eyes, and rock his brains
In cradle of the rude imperious surge;
And in the visitation of the winds,
Who take the ruffian billows by the top,
Curling their monstrous heads, and hanging them
With deafʼning clamours in the slippery clouds,
That, with the hurly, f death itself awakes?
Canst thou, O partial sleep! give thy repose
To the wet sea-boy, in an hour so rude;
And, in the calmest and most stillest night,
With all appliances, and means to boot,
Deny it to a king?

to Multitude. + Dresscd. # Noisa

11*

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ACT IV.
THE CHARACTER OF KING HENRY V. BY HIS FATHER.

He is gracious, if he be observ'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 humorous as winter, and as sudden
As flaws congealed in the spring of day.
His temper, therefore, must be well observ'd:
Chide him for faults, and do it reverently,
When you perceive his blood inclined to mirth:
But, being moody, give him line and scope;
Till that his passions, like a whale on ground,
Confound themselves with working.

ON FORTUNE.
Will fortune never come with both hands full
But write her fair words still in foulest letters?
She either gives a stomach, and no food,
Such are the poor, in health; or else a feast,
And takes away the stomach,--such are the rich,
That have abundance, and enjoy it not.

REFLECTIONS ON A CROWN, O polish'd perturbation! golden care! That keep'st the portst of slumber

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 biggint bound, Snores out the watch of night. O majesty! When thou dost pinch thy bearer, thou dost sit Like a rich armour worn in heat of day, That scalds with safety.

open

REFLECTIONS ON GOLD. How quickly nature falls into revolt, When gold becomes her object! For this the foolish over-careful fathers * Has an attention shown him. Gates.

* Cap.

with care,

Have broke their sleep with thoughts, their brains
Their bones with industry;
For this they have engrossed and piled up
The cankerd heaps of strange-achieved gold;
For this they have been thoughtful to invest
Their sons with arts, and martial exercises:
When, like the bee, tolling* from every flower
The virtuous sweets;
Our thighs pack'd with wax, our mouths with honey,
We bring it to the hive; and, like the bees,
Are murder'd for our pains.
SCENE BETWEEN PRIKCE HENRY AND HIS FATHER.

Come hither to me, Harry:-
Depart the chamber, leave us here alone.

P. Hen. I never thought to hear you speak again.
K. Hen. Thy wish was farther, Harry, to that

thought: I stay too long by thee, I weary thee. Dost thou so hunger for my empty chair, That thou wilt needs invest thee with mine honours Before thy hour be ripe? O foolish youth! Thou seek'st the greatness that will overwhelm thce. Stay but a little; for my cloud of dignity Is held from falling with so weak a wind, That it will quickly drop: my day is din. Thou hast stol'n that, which, after some few hours, Were thine without offence; and, at my death, Thou hast seal'd up my expectation. Thy life did manifest, thou lov’dst me not, And thou wilt have me die assured of it. Thou hid'st a thousand daggers in thy thoughts: Which thou hast whetted on thy stony heart, To stab at half an hour of my

lise. What! canst thou not forbear me half an hour? Then get thee gone; and dig my grave thyself; And bid the merry bells ring to thine ear, rhat thou art crowned, not that I am dead. Let all the tears that should bedew my hears., *Taking toll.

+ Confirmed my opinion.

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Be drops of balm, to sanctify thy head:
Only compound me with forgotten dust;
Give that, which gave thee life, unto the worms.
Pluck down my officers, break my decrees;
For now a time is come to mock at form,
Harry the fifth is crown'd:-Up, vanity!
Down, royal state! all yoá sage counsellors, hence
And to the English court assemble now,
From every region, apes of idleness!
Now, neighbour confines, purge you of your of 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 in 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?
0, thou wilt be a wilderness again,
Peopled with wolves, thy old inhabitants!
P. Hen. O, pardon me, my liege! but for my tears,

(Kneeling
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 true and inward-duteous spirit
Teacheth) this prostrate and exterior bending!
Heaven 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

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