The inceffant care and labour of his mind

2

Hath wrought the mure that should confine it in, So thin that life looks through, and will break out. Glou. The people fear me; for they do obferve 3 Unfather'd heirs, and loathly births of nature. 4 The seasons change their manners; as the year Had found fome months afleep, and leap'd them over. Cla. The river hath thrice flow'd, no ebb between; And the old folk, time's doting chronicles, Say, it did fo a little time before

That our great grandfire Edward fick'd and dy'd. War. Speak lower, princes, for the king recovers. Glou. This apoplex will, certain, be his end.

K. Henry. I pray you, take me up, and bear me
hence

Into fome other chamber. Softly, 'pray.
Let there be no noife made, my gentle friends;
5 Unless fome dull and favourable hand

Will whisper mufic to my weary fpirit.

War. Call for the mufic in the other room.

Hath wrought the mure,- -] i. e. The wall. POPE. Wrought it thin, is made it thin by gradual detriment, Wrought is the preterite of work. STEEVENS.

2 The people fear me ;] i. e. Make me afraid; which fenfe the Oxford Editor not taking, alters it to fear it.

WARBURTON.

3 Unfather'd heirs,-] That is, Equivocal births; animals that had no animal progenitors; productions not brought forth according to the stated laws of generation. JoHNSON.

4 The feafons change their manners;] This is finely expreffed; alluding to the terms of rough and harf, and mild and foft, applied to weather.

WARBURTON.

5 Unless fome dull and favourable hand] Thus the old edi tions read it, evidently corrupt. Shakespeare feems to have wrote,

Unless fome doleing favourable handDoleing, i. e, A hand using foft melancholy airs.

WARBURTON,

I rather think that dull fignifies melancholy, gentle, foothing. Doleing cannot be received without fome example of its ufe, which the commentator has not given, and my memory will not fupply. JOHNSON,

K. Henry,

K. Henry. Set me the crown upon the pillow here. Cla. His eye is hollow, and he changes much. War. Lefs noise, less noise.

[They convey the king to an inner part of the room.
Enter prince Henry.

P. Henry. Who faw the duke of Clarence?
Cla. I am here, brother, full of heaviness.

P. Henry. How now! rain within doors, and none abroad!

How doth the king?

Glou. Exceeding ill.

P. Henry. Heard he the good news yet?
Tell it him.

Glou. He alter'd much upon the hearing it.
P. Henry. If he be fick

With joy, he will recover without phyfic.

War. Not fo much noife, my lords. Sweet prince, speak low;

The king, your father, is difpos'd to fleep.
Cla. Let us withdraw into the other room.

king.

War. Will't please your grace to go along with us?
P. Henry. No; I will fit, and watch here by the
[Exeunt all but prince Henry.
Why doth the crown lie there upon his pillow,
Being fo troublefome a bed-fellow?

O polish'd perturbation! golden care!
That keep'ft the ports of flumber open wide
To many a watchful night! Sleep with it now!-
Yet not fo found and half fo deeply sweet
As he, whofe brow, with homely biggen bound,
Snores out the watch of night. O majefty!
When thou doft pinch thy bearer, thou doft fit
Like a rich armour worn in heat of day,
That fcalds with fafety. By his gates of breath
There lies a downy feather, which stirs not:
Did he fufpire, that light and weightlefs down
Perforce must move. My gracious lord! my father!

6

This fleep is found, indeed; this is a fleep
That from this golden rigol hath divorc'd
So many English kings. Thy due from me
Is tears, and heavy forrows of the blood;
Which nature, love, and filial tenderness.
Shall, O dear father, pay thee plenteously.
My due from thee is this imperial crown;
Which, as immediate from thy place and blood,
Derives itself to me. Lo, here it fits,

[Putting it on his head. Which heaven fhall guard: and put the world's whole ferength

Into one giant arm, it fhall not force

This lineal honour from me. This from thee

Will I to mine leave, as 'tis left to me.

K. Henry. Warwick! Gloucefter! Clarence!

Enter Warwick and the rest.

Cla. Doth the king call?

[Exit.

War. What would your majefty? How fares your grace?

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

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

K. Henry. The prince of Wales? Where is he? let me fee him.

War. This door is open; he is gone this way. Glou. He came not through the chamber where we ftay'd.

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

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

here.

this golden rigol] Rigol means a circle. I know

not that it is ufed by any other author. STEEVENS.

K. Henry.

K. Henry. The prince hath ta'en it hence: go, feek him out.

Is he fo hafty, that he doth fuppofe

My fleep my death?

Find him, my lord of Warwick, chide him hither. This part of his conjoins with my disease,

And helps to end me.-See, fons, what things you

are!

How quickly nature falls into revolt,
When gold becomes her object!

For this the foolifh over-careful fathers

Have broke their fleeps with thought, their brains with

care,

Their bones with induftry;

For this they have engroffed and pil'd up
The canker'd heaps of ftrange-atchieved gold;
For this they have been thoughtful to invest
Their fons with arts and martial exercifes:

When, like the bee, 7 tolling from every flower
The virtuous fweets,

Our thighs are pack'd with wax, our mouths with

honey,

We bring it to the hive; and, like the bees, Are murder'd for our pains. This bitter tafte 8 Yield his engroffments to the ending father.

Re-enter Warwick.

Now, where is he, that will not stay fo long,
Till his friend, Sickness, hath determin'd me?
War. My lord, I found the prince in the next room,

7

telling from every flower] This fpeech has been contracted, dilated, and put to every critical torture, in order to force it within the bounds of metre, and prevent the admiffion of hemifticks. I have reftored it without alteration, but with thofe breaks which appeared to others as imperfections. The reading of the quarto is tolling. The folio reads culling. Toll ing is taking toll. STEEVENS.

Yield his engroffments-] His accumulations. JoHNSON.

2

Washing

Washing with kindly tears his gentle cheeks;
With fuch a deep demeanor in great forrow,
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.
K. Henry. But wherefore did he take away the
crown?

Enter prince Henry.

Lo, where he comes.-Come hither to me, Harry :Depart the chamber; leave us here alone.

[Exeunt lords. P. Henry. I never thought to hear you speak again. K. Henry. Thy wifh was father, Harry, to that thought:

I stay too long by thee, I weary thee.

Doft thou fo hunger for my empty chair,

That thou wilt needs inveft thee with mine honours

Before thy hour, be ripe? O foolish youth!
Thou feek'ft 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 haft ftol'n that, which, after fome few hours,
Were thine without offence; and at my death
Thou haft 9 feal'd up my expectation:
Thy life did manifeft thou lov'dft me not,
And thou wilt have me die affur'd of it.
Thou hid'ft a thousand daggers in thy thoughts,
Which thou haft whetted on thy ftony heart,
To ftab at half an hour of my life.

What!

-Seal'd up my expectation:] Thou hast confirmed my opinion. JOHNSON.

half an hour of my life.] It should be remembered that Shakespeare ufes the fame words alternately as monofyllables and diffylables. Mr. Rowe, whofe ear was accustomed to the utmost harmony of numbers, and who, at the fame time,

appears