King.
Let there be no noise made, my gentle friends;
Unless some dull and ^note favourable hand
Will whisper music to my weary spirit.

War.
Call for the music in the other room.

King.
Set me the crown upon my pillow here.

Clar.
His eye is hollow, and he changes much.

War.
Less noise, less noise! ^noteEnter ^note Prince Henry.

Prince.
Who saw the Duke of Clarence?

Clar.
I am here, brother, full of heaviness.

Prince.
How now! rain within doors, and none abroad!
How doth the king? ^note

Glou.
Exceeding ill.

Prince.
Heard he the good news yet?
Tell it him. ^note

Glou.
He ^note alter'd ^note much upon the ^note hearing it.

Prince.

If he be sick with joy, he'll ^note recover without physic. ^note

War.
Not so much noise, my lords: sweet prince, speak low ^note;
The king your father is disposed to sleep.

Clar.
Let us withdraw into the other room.

War.
Will't please your grace to go along with us?

Prince.
No; I will sit and watch here by the king. [Exeunt ^note all except the Prince.
Why doth the crown lie there upon his pillow,
Being so troublesome a bedfellow?
O polish'd perturbation! golden care!
That keep'st the ports of slumber open wide
To many ^note a watchful night! sleep with it ^note now!
Yet not so sound and ^note half so deeply sweet
As he whose ^note brow with homely biggen 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 ^note with safety. By his gates of breath
There lies a downy ^note feather which stirs not:
Did he suspire, that light and weightless down ^note

^note
Perforce must move. My ^note gracious lord! my father!
This sleep is sound indeed; this is a sleep,
That from this golden rigol ^note hath divorced
So many English kings. Thy due ^note from me
Is tears and heavy sorrows of the blood,
Which nature, love, and filial tenderness,
Shall, O dear father, pay thee plenteously: ^note
My due from thee is this imperial crown,
Which, as immediate from thy place and blood,
Derives itself to me. Lo, here ^note it sits,
Which God ^note shall guard: and put the world's whole strength
Into one giant arm, it shall not force
This lineal honour from me: this from thee
Will I to mine leave, as 'tis left to me ^note. [Exit. ^{note note}

King.
Warwick! Gloucester! Clarence! Re-enter ^note Warwick, Gloucester, Clarence, and the rest.

Clar.
Doth the king call?

War.
What would your majesty? How fares your grace ^note?

King.
Why did you leave me here alone, my lords?

Clar.
We left the prince my brother here, my liege,
Who undertook to sit and watch by you.

King.
The Prince of Wales! Where is he? let me see him:
He is not here ^{note note}.

War.
This ^note door is open; he is gone this way.

Glou.
He came not through the chamber where we stay'd.

King.
Where is the crown? who took it from my pillow?

War.
When we withdrew, my liege, we left it here.

King.
The prince hath ta'en it hence: go, seek him out.
Is he so hasty that he doth suppose
My sleep my death?
Find him, my Lord of Warwick; chide him hither. [Exit Warwick.
This part of his conjoins with my disease,
And helps to end me. See, sons, what things you are! ^note
How quickly nature falls into revolt
When gold becomes her object! ^note
For this the foolish over-careful fathers
Have broke their sleep with thoughts ^{note note}, their brains with care,
Their bones with industry ^note;
For this they have engrossed and piled ^note up
The canker'd heaps of strange-achieved gold;
For this they have been thoughtful to invest
Their sons with arts and martial exercises:
When, like the bee ^note, culling ^note from every flower
The virtuous sweets ^note,
Our thighs pack'd ^note with wax, our mouths with honey ^{note note},

We bring it to the hive; and ^note, like the bees,
Are murdered for our pains. This bitter taste
Yield ^note his engrossments to the ending ^note father ^note. Re-enter ^note Warwick.
Now, where is he that will not stay so long
Till his friend sickness hath ^note determined me?

War.
My lord, I found the prince in the next room,
Washing with kindly tears his gentle cheeks,
With such a deep demeanour in great sorrow
That tyranny, which never quaff'd but blood,
Would, by beholding him, have wash'd his knife
With gentle eye-drops. He is coming hither.

King.
But wherefore did he take away the crown? Re-enter Prince Henry. ^note
Lo, where he comes. Come hither to me, Harry.
Depart the chamber, leave us here alone. [Exeunt ^note Warwick and the rest.

Prince.
I never thought to hear you speak again.

King.
Thy wish was father, Harry, to that thought:
I stay too long by thee, I weary thee.
Dost thou so hunger for mine ^note empty chair
That thou wilt needs invest thee with my ^note honours
Before thy hour be ripe? O foolish youth!
Thou seek'st the greatness that will overwhelm thee.
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 dim.
Thou hast stolen 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 lovedst me not,
And thou wilt have me die assured of it.
Thou hidest ^note a thousand daggers in thy thoughts,
Which ^note thou hast whetted on thy stony heart,
To stab at half an hour of my life ^note.
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 ^note 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 ^note 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 ^note that will swear, drink, dance ^note,
Revel the night, rob, murder, and commit
The oldest sins the newest kind of ways ^note?
Be happy, he will trouble you no more;
England shall double gild ^note his treble guilt ^{note note},
England shall give him office, honour, might;
For the fifth Harry from curb'd ^note license plucks
The muzzle of restraint, and the wild dog
Shall flesh his tooth on ^note 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! ^note

Prince.
O, pardon me, my liege! but for my tears ^note,
The moist ^note impediments unto my speech,
I had forestall'd this dear and deep rebuke
Ere you with grief had spoke and I had heard ^note
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 ^note duteous spirit
Teacheth, this ^note prostrate and exterior bending.
God witness with me, ^note 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 ^note 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 ^note gold:
Other, less fine in carat, is more ^note precious,
Preserving life in medicine potable;
But thou, most fine, most honour'd, most renown'd,

Hast eat thy bearer ^note up.’ Thus, my most ^note royal liege ^note,
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 ^note of it,
Let God ^note 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 ^note,
God ^note put it ^note in thy mind to take it hence,
That thou mightst win ^note 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 ^note knows, my son,
By what by-paths and indirect crook'd ways ^note
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 boisterous hand,
And I had many living to upbraid
My gain of it by their assistances;
Which daily grew to quarrel and to ^note bloodshed,

Wounding supposed peace: all these bold fears ^{note note}
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 ^note; for what in me was purchased ^note,
Falls upon thee in a more ^note fairer sort;
So ^note 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 ^note, which thou must make thy friends,
Have but their stings and teeth newly ta'en ^note 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 ^note off; and ^note had a purpose now
To lead out ^note many to the Holy Land,
Lest rest and lying still might make them look
Too near unto ^note my state. Therefore, my Harry ^note,
Be it thy course to busy giddy minds
With foreign quarrels ^note; that action, hence borne out,
May waste the memory of the former ^note 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 ^note forgive;
And grant it may with thee in true peace live! ^note

Prince.
My gracious liege ^note,

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 ^note Lord John of Lancaster.

King.
Look, look, here comes my John of Lancaster ^note.

Lan.
Health, peace, and happiness to my royal father ^note!

King.
Thou bring'st me happiness and peace ^note, 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! Enter ^note Warwick, and others.

King.
Doth any name particular belong
Unto the lodging where I first did swoon?

War.
'Tis call'd Jerusalem, my noble lord.

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

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