War.
How now, my Lord Chief Justice, whither away?

Ch. Just.
How doth the King?

War.
Exceeding well: His Cares
Are now all ended.

Ch. Just.
I hope not dead.

War.
He's walk'd the way of Nature,
And, to our Purposes, he lives no more.

Ch. Just.
I would his Majesty had call'd me with him.
The Service that I truly did his Life
Hath left me open to all Injuries.

War.
Indeed I think the young King loves you not.

Ch. Just.
I know he doth not, and do arm my self
To welcome the condition of the Time,
Which cannot look more hideously upon me,
Than I have drawn it in my fantasie. Enter Lord John of Lancester, Gloucester and Clarence.

War.
Here comes the heavy issue of dead Harry:
O, that the living Harry had the temper
Of him, the worst of these three Gentlemen:
How many Nobles then should hold their Places,
That must strike sail to Spirits of vile sort?

Ch. Just.
Alas, I fear all will be over-turn'd.

Lan.
Good morrow, Cousin Warwick, good morrow.

Glo. Clar.
Good morrow, Cousin.

Lan.
We meet like Men that had forgot to speak.

War.
We do remember; but our Argument
Is all too heavy to admit much talk.

Lan.
Well, peace be with him that hath made us heavy.

Ch. Just.
Peace be with us, lest we be heavier.

Glo.
O, good my Lord, you have lost a Friend indeed:
And, I dare swear, you borrow not that Face
Of seeming Sorrow, it is sure your own.

Lan.
Tho' no Man be assur'd what Grace to find,
You stand in coldest Expectation.
I am the sorrier, would 'twere otherwise.

Cla.
Well, you must now speak Sir John Falstaff fair,
Which swims against your stream of Quality.

Ch. Just.
Sweet Princes, what I did, I did in honour,
Led by th' Imperial Conduct of my Soul,
And never shall you see that I will beg
A ragged and forestall'd Remission.
If Troth and upright Innocency fail me,
I'll to the King, my Master, that is dead,
And tell him who hath sent me after him.

War.
Here comes the Prince. Enter Prince Henry.

Ch. Just.
Good morrow, and Heav'n save your Majesty.

P. Henry.
This new and gorgeous Garment, Majesty,
Sits not so easie on me as you think.
Brothers, you mix your Sadness with some Fear:
This is the English, not the Turkish Court:
Not Amurah an Amurah succeeds,
But Harry, Harry. Yet be sad, good Brothers,
For, to speak truth, it very well becomes you:
Sorrow so Royally in you appears,
That I will deeply put the fashion on,
And wear it in my Heart. Why then be sad,
But entertain no more of it, good Brothers,
Than a joint-burthen laid upon us all.
For me, by Heav'n, I bid you be assur'd,
I'll be your Father and your Brother too:
Let me but bear your Love, I'll bear your Cares;
But weep that Harry's dead, and so will I.
But Harry lives, that shall convert those Tears
By number, into hours of Happiness.

Lan. &c.
We hope no other from your Majesty.

P. Henry.
You all look strangely on me; and you most.
You are, I think, assur'd I love you not. [To the Ch. Just.

Ch. Just.
I am assur'd, if I be measur'd rightly,
Your Majesty hath no just cause to hate me.

P. Henry.
No! How might a Prince of my great Hopes forget
So great Indignities you laid upon me?
What! Rate! Rebuke! and roughly send to Prison
Th' immediate Heir of England! Was this easie?
May this be wash'd in Lethe, and forgotten?

Ch. Just.
I then did use the Person of your Father;
The Image of his Power lay then in me,
And, in th' Administration of his Law,
Whiles I was busie for the Common-wealth,
Your Highness pleased to forget my Place,
The Majesty and Power of Law and Justice,
The Image of the King, whom I presented,
And struck me in my very Seat of Judgment:
Whereon, as an Offender to your Father,
I gave bold way to my Authority,
And did commit you. If the Deed were ill,
Be you contented, wearing now the Garland,
To have a Son, set your Decrees at naught?
To pluck down Justice from your awful Bench?
To trip the course of Law, and blunt the Sword
That guards the peace and safety of your Person?
Nay, more, to spurn at your most Royal Image,
And mock your workings in a second Body?
Question your Royal Thoughts, make the case yours;
Be now the Father, and propose a Son:
Hear your own Dignity so much prophan'd,
See your most dreadful Laws so loosely slighted;
Behold your self so by a Son disdain'd:
And then imagine me taking your part,
And in your Power soft-silencing your Son:
After this cold considerance, sentence me;
And, as you are a King, speak in your State,
What I have done that misbecame my Place,
My Person, or my Liege's Sovereignty.

P. Henry.
You are right Justice, and you weigh this well;
Therefore still bear the Ballance, and the Sword:
And I do wish your Honours may increase,
'Till you do live to see a Son of mine
Offend you, and obey you, as I did:
So shall I live to speak my Father's words.
Happy am I, that have a Man so bold,

That dares do Justice on my proper Son;
And no less happy having such a Son,
That would deliver up his greatness so
Into the hands of Justice. You did commit me;
For which I do commit into your Hand
Th' unstained Sword that you have us'd to bear,
With this Remembrance, that you use the same
With the like bold, just and impartial Spirit
As you have done 'gainst me. There is my Hand,
You shall be as a Father to my Youth.
My Voice shall sound as you do prompt mine Ear,
And I will stoop and humble my Intents
To your well practis'd wise Directions.
And Princes all, believe me, I beseech you;
My Father is gone wild into his Grave,
(For in his Tomb lye my Affections)
And, with his Spirit, sadly I survive,
To mock the Expectations of the World:
To frustrate Prophesies, and to race out
Rotten Opinion, who hath writ me down
After my seeming. The tide of Blood in me
Hath proudly flow'd in Vanity 'till now.
Now doth it turn and ebb back to the Sea;
Where it shall mingle with the state of Floods,
And flow henceforth in formal Majesty.
Now call we our High Court of Parliament,
And let us chuse such Limbs of noble Counsel
That the great Body of our State may go
In equal rank with the best govern'd Nation;
That War or Peace, or both at once, may be
As things acquainted and familiar to us,
In which you, Father, shall have formost Hand. [To Lord Chief Justice.
Our Coronation done, we will accite
(As I before remembred) all our State,
And (Heaven consigning to my good Intents)
No Prince, nor Peer, shall have just cause to say,
Heaven shorten Harry's happy life one day. [Exeunt.

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