K. Hen.
Lords, give us leave; the Prince of Wales and I,
Must have some private conference: But be near at hand^{1 note},
For we shall presently have need of you.— [Exeunt Lords.
I know not whether God will have it so,
For some displeasing service^{2 note} I have done,
That in his secret doom, out of my blood
He'll breed revengement and a scourge for me;
But thou dost, in thy passages of life^{3 note},
Make me believe,—that thou art only mark'd
For the hot vengeance and the rod of heaven,
To punish my mis-treadings. Tell me else,
Could such inordinate, and low desires,
Such poor, such bare, such lewd, such mean attempts^{4 note}

Such barren pleasures, rude society,
As thou art match'd withal, and grafted to,
Accompany the greatness of thy blood,
And hold their level with thy princely heart?

P. Hen
So please your majesty, I would, I could
Quit all offences with as clear excuse,
As well as, I am doubtless, I can purge
Myself of many I am charg'd withal:
Yet such extenuation let me beg^{5 note},
As, in reproof of many tales devis'd^{6 note},—
Which oft the ear of greatness needs must hear,—
By smiling pick-thanks^{7 note}

K. Hen.
God pardon thee!—yet let me wonder, Harry,
At thy affections, which do hold a wing
Quite from the flight of all thy ancestors.

Thy place in council thou hast rudely lost^{8 note}

And dress'd myself in such humility,
That I did pluck allegiance from men's hearts^{2 note}

Loud shouts and salutations from their mouths,
Even in the presence of the crowned king.
Thus did I keep my person fresh, and new;
My presence, like a robe pontifical,
Ne'er seen, but wonder'd at^{3 note}



: and so my state,
Seldom, but sumptuous, showed like a feast;
And won, by rareness, such solemnity.
The skipping king, he ambled up and down
With shallow jesters, and rash bavin wits^{4 note}

Mingled his royalty with capering fools^{6 note}

And gave his countenance, against his name^{7 note}

Of every beardless vain comparative^{9 note}

They surfeited with honey; and began
To loathe the taste of sweetness, whereof a little
More than a little is by much too much.
So, when he had occasion to be seen,
He was but as the cuckoo is in June,
Heard, not regarded; seen, but with such eyes,
As, sick and blunted with community,
Afford no extraordinary gaze,
Such as is bent on sun-like majesty
When it shines seldom in admiring eyes:
But rather drowz'd, and hung their eye-lids down,
Slept in his face, and render'd such aspéct
As cloudy men use to their adversaries^{3 note}
;
Being with his presence glutted, gorg'd, and full.
And in that very line, Harry, standest thou^{4 note}
:
For thou hast lost thy princely privilege,
With vile participation; not an eye
But is a-weary of thy common sight,
Save mine, which hath desir'd to see thee more;
Which now doth that I would not have it do,
Make blind itself with foolish tenderness.

P. Hen.
I shall hereafter, my thrice-gracious lord,
Be more myself.

K. Hen.
For all the world^{5 note}
,

As thou art to this hour, was Richard then
When I from France set foot at Ravenspurg;
And even as I was then, is Percy now.
Now by my scepter, and my soul to boot,
He hath more worthy interest to the state,
Than thou, the shadow of succession^{6 note}

Discomfited great Douglas: ta'en him once,
Enlarged him, and made a friend of him,
To fill the mouth of deep defiance up,
And shake the peace and safety of our throne.
And what say you to this? Percy, Northumberland,
The archbishop's grace of York, Douglas, Mortimer,
Capitulate^{7 note}

P. Hen.
Do not think so, you shall not find it so;
And God forgive them, that have so much sway'd
Your majesty's good thoughts away from me!
I will redeem all this on Percy's head,
And, in the closing of some glorious day,
Be bold to tell you, that I am your son;
When I will wear a garment all of blood,
And stain my favours in a bloody mask^{9 note}

Which, wash'd away, shall scour my shame with it.
And that shall be the day, whene'er it lights,
That this same child of honour and renown,
This gallant Hotspur, this all-praised knight,
And your unthought-of Harry, chance to meet:
For every honour sitting on his helm,
'Would they were multitudes; and on my head
My shames redoubled! for the time will come,
That I shall make this northern youth exchange
His glorious deeds for my indignities.
Percy is but my factor, good my lord,
To engross up glorious deeds on my behalf;
And I will call him to so strict account,
That he shall render every glory up,
Yea, even the slightest worship of his time,
Or I will tear the reckoning from his heart.
This, in the name of God, I promise here:
The which if he be pleas'd I shall perform,
I do beseech your majesty, may salve
The long-grown wounds of my intemperance:

If not, the end of life cancels all bands^{1 note}

K. Hen.
A hundred thousand rebels die in this:
Thou shalt have charge, and sovereign trust, herein. Enter Blunt.
How now, good Blunt? thy looks are full of speed.

Blunt.
So hath the business that I come to speak of^{2 note}.
Lord Mortimer of Scotland hath sent word^{3 note},—
That Douglas, and the English rebels, met,

The eleventh of this month, at Shrewsbury:
A mghty and a fearful head they are,
If promises be kept on every hand,
As ever offer'd foul play in a state.

K. Hen.
The earl of Westmoreland set forth today;
With him my son, lord John of Lancaster;
For this advertisement is five days old:—
On Wednesday next, Harry, you shall set forward;
On Thursday, we ourselves will march:
Our meeting is Bridgnorth: and, Harry, you
Shall march through Glostershire; by which account,
Our business valued, some twelve days hence
Our general forces at Bridgnorth shall meet.
Our hands are full of business: let's away;
Advantage feeds him fat^{4 note}