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- Edition: Henry IV, Part 2
Henry IV, Part 2 (Folio 1 1623)
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The second Part of King Henry the Fourth. 95
2643Then get thee gone, and digge my graue thy selfe,
2644And bid the merry Bels ring to thy eare
2645That thou art Crowned, not that I am dead.
2648Onely compound me with forgotten dust.
2649Giue that, which gaue thee life, vnto the Wormes:
2650Plucke downe my Officers, breake my Decrees;
2651For now a time is come, to mocke at Forme.
2652Henry the fift is Crown'd: Vp Vanity,
2655From eu'ry Region, Apes of Idlenesse.
2656Now neighbor-Confines, purge you of your Scum:
2658Reuell the night? Rob? Murder? and commit
2660Be happy, he will trouble you no more:
2661England, shall double gill'd, his trebble guilt.
2663For the Fift Harry, from curb'd License pluckes
2664The muzzle of Restraint; and the wilde Dogge
2666O my poore Kingdome (sicke, with ciuill blowes)
2667When that my Care could not with-hold thy Ryots,
2668What wilt thou do, when Ryot is thy Care?
2669O, thou wilt be a Wildernesse againe,
2670Peopled with Wolues (thy old Inhabitants.
2671Prince. O pardon me (my Liege)
2672But for my Teares,
2673The most Impediments vnto my Speech,
2674I had fore-stall'd this deere, and deepe Rebuke,
2675Ere you (with greefe) had spoke, and I had heard
2677And he that weares the Crowne immortally,
2679Then as your Honour, and as your Renowne,
2680Let me no more from this Obedience rise,
2681Which my most true, and inward duteous Spirit
2682Teacheth this prostrate, and exteriour bending.
2683Heauen witnesse with me, when I heere came in,
2685How cold it strooke my heart. If I do faine,
2687And neuer liue, to shew th'incredulous World,
2688The Noble change that I haue purposed.
2689Comming to looke on you, thinking you dead,
2690(And dead almost (my Liege) to thinke you were)
2692And thus vpbraided it. The Care on thee depending,
2693Hath fed vpon the body of my Father,
2696Preseruing life, in Med'cine potable:
2698Hast eate the Bearer vp.
2699Thus (my Royall Liege)
2700Accusing it, I put it on my Head,
2701To try with it (as with an Enemie,
2702That had before my face murdred my Father)
2703The Quarrell of a true Inheritor.
2704But if it did infect my blood with Ioy,
2706If any Rebell, or vaine spirit of mine,
2708Giue entertainment to the might of it,
2709Let heauen, for euer, keepe it from my head,
2711That doth with awe, and terror kneele to it.
2712King. O my Sonne!
2713Heauen put it in thy minde to take it hence,
2714That thou might'st ioyne the more, thy Fathers loue,
2716Come hither Harrie, sit thou by my bedde,
2718That euer I shall breath: Heauen knowes, my Sonne)
2719By what by-pathes, and indirect crook'd-wayes
2720I met this Crowne: and I my selfe know well
2723Better Opinion, better Confirmation:
2724For all the soyle of the Atchieuement goes
2725With me, into the Earth. It seem'd in mee,
2727And I had many liuing, to vpbraide
2729Which dayly grew to Quarrell, and to Blood-shed,
2731All these bold Feares,
2733For all my Reigne, hath beene but as a Scene
2734Acting that argument. And now my death
2735Changes the Moode: For what in me, was purchas'd,
2736Falles vpon thee, in a more Fayrer sort.
2740And all thy Friends, which thou must make thy Friends
2741Haue but their stings, and teeth, newly tak'n out,
2743And by whose power, I well might lodge a Feare
2744To be againe displac'd. Which to auoyd,
2746To leade out many to the Holy Land;
2748Too neere vnto my State.
2749Therefore (my Harrie)
2751With Forraigne Quarrels: that Action hence borne out,
2752May waste the memory of the former dayes.
2754That strength of Speech is vtterly deni'de mee.
2755How I came by the Crowne, O heauen forgiue:
2756And grant it may, with thee, in true peace liue.
2757Prince. My gracious Liege:
2758You wonne it, wore it: kept it, gaue it me,
2760Which I, with more, then with a Common paine,
2761'Gainst all the World, will rightfully maintaine.
2762Enter Lord Iohn of Lancaster,
2763 and Warwicke.
2764King. Looke, looke,
2765Heere comes my Iohn of Lancaster:
2767To my Royall Father.
2769(Sonne Iohn:
2770But health (alacke) with youthfull wings is flowne
2771From this bare, wither'd Trunke. Vpon thy sight
Where