fall in love with him: in doing which, I have done the part of a careful friend, and true fubject, and thy father must honor me for it. No abufe, Hal! none, Ned, none! no, boys, none ! P. Hen. See now, whether pure fear, and rank cowardice do not make thee wrong our good hoftefs, to clear thyfelf with us! Is the of the wicked? Is the boy of the wicked?-Or is ho neft Bardolph, whofe zeal burns in his nofe, of the wicked? Poins. Anfwer, thou dead elm, answer! Fal. What, upon compulfion! Give you an anfwer upon compulfion! If answers were as plenty as geefe at Michaelinas, I would give no man an anfwer upon compulfion, I! Enter GOWER. P. Hen. How now, Gower, what news? Gower. The King your father is at West minster; And there are twenty weak and wearied pofts P. Hen P. Hen. By Heaven, Poins, I feel me much to blame, So idly to profane the precious time; When tempeft of commotion, like the South Fal. O,I could with this tavern were my drum! ACT III. SCENE I. The Palace, Enter KING HENRY, in his Night Gown. King Henry. HOW many thousand of my pooreft fubHow jects Are at this hour afleep!-O gentle fleep, Nature's foft nurfe, how have I frighted thee, That thou no more wilt weigh my eyelids down, And steep my fenfes in forgetfulness ? Why rather, fleep, lieft thou in smoky cribs, Upon uneafy pallets ftretching thee, And hufh'd with buzzing night-flies to thy flumber; And lull'd with founds of sweetest melody? And And in the vifitation of the winds, Who take the ruffian billows by the top, Curling their monftrous heads, and hanging them Enter PRINCE JOHN of LANCASTER, Lanc. Many good morrows to your Majesty ! K. Hen. You're early, Lords! the candles of the night Can scarce be yet burnt out. Glo. Can we, my Liege, Draw the sweet breath of fleep in quiet rest, K Hen. Can I be found, when rank diseases grow Within the body of the groaning realm, West. Fear not, my Liege ! Your kingdom's former ftrength will be reftor'd By prudent counfel, and by active valör. K. Hen. O Heav'n! that one might read the book of fate; And read the revolution of the times Make mountains level, and the Continent, Weary of folid firmness, melt itself Into the fea!-At other times, to fee The beachy girdle of the Ocean Too wide for Neptune's hips; how chances mock And changes fill the cup of alteration With divers liquors! O, if this were seen, The happiest youth,-viewing his progress thro', But foon they hurl'd defiance at each other. Glo. If fate has made thefe fearful revolutions The neceffary motions of the world, Then |