Then get thee gone, and dig my grave thyself;
And bid the merry bells ring to thine ear
That thou art crowned, not that I am dead.
Let all the tears that should bedew my hearse
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 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 license plucks
The
muzzle of
straint" target="_blank" title="n.抑制;管束;克制">
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. 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! [Kneeling] 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 th'
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 med'cine 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 murd'red 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
welcomeGive
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. 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 better 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 boist'rous 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 seest with peril I have answered;
For all my reign hath been but as a scene
Acting that
argument. And now my death
Changes the mood; for what in me was purchas'd
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 advanc'd,
And by whose power I well might lodge a fear
To be again displac'd; 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. 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 PRINCE JOHN OF LANCASTER, WARWICK, LORDS, and others
KING. Look, look, here comes my John of Lancaster.
PRINCE JOHN. Health, peace, and happiness, to my royal father!
KING. 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. My Lord of Warwick!
KING. Doth any name particular belong
Unto the
lodging where I first did swoon?
WARWICK. 'Tis call'd Jerusalem, my noble lord.
KING. 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 suppos'd 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 excus'd; excuses
shall not be admitted; there is no excuse shan serve; you shall
not be excus'd. 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 excus'd.
DAVY. Marry, sir, thus: those precepts cannot be served; and,
again, sir- shall we sow the
headland with wheat?
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 needs 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-legg'd 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' th' 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 o' th' 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 serv'd your
worship truly,
sir, this eight years; an 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 you, let him be countenanc'd.
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.
[To the PAGE] And
welcome, my tall fellow. 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
ignorantcarriage is caught,
as men take diseases, one of another;
therefore let men take heed