K. Henry.
Go, call the Earls of Surrey and of Warwick;
But, ere they come, bid them o'er-read these letters,
And well consider of them. Make good speed. [Exit Page.
How many thousands of my poorest Subjects
Are at this hour asleep! O gentle sleep,
Nature's soft Nurse, how have I frighted thee,
That thou no more wilt weigh my eye-lids down,
And steep my senses in forgetfulness?
Why rather, Sleep, ly'st thou in smoaky cribs,
Upon uneasy pallets stretching thee,
And husht with buzzing night-flies to thy slumber;
Than in the perfum'd chambers of the Great,
Under the Canopies of costly State,
And lull'd with sounds of sweetest melody?
O thou dull God, why ly'st thou with the vile
In loathsom beds, and leav'st the kingly couch
^{8 note}A watch-case, or a common larum 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 deaf'ning clamours in the slip'ry shrouds,
That, with the hurley, death itself awakes?
Can'st thou, O partial Sleep, give thy repose
To the wet sea-boy in an hour so rude?
And, in the calmest and the stillest night,
With all appliances and means to boot,
Deny it to a King? ^{9 note}