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 on me,
Than I have drawn it in my fantasie. Enter Lord John of Lancaster, Gloucester, and Clarence.

War.
Here come 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 overturn'd.

Lan.
Good morrow, cousin Warwick.

Glou. Cla.
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!

Glou.
O, good my lord, you've 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' impartial conduct of my soul;
And never shall you see, that I will beg
^{2 note}

War.
Here comes the Prince.

Previous section

Next section