265

  O, thou wilt be a wilderness again,

  Peopled with wolves, thy old inhabitants.

  PRINCE HENRY

  O pardon me, my liege! But for my tears,

  The moist impediments unto my speech,

  I had forestalled this dear and deep rebuke

  270

  Ere you with grief had spoke and I had heard

  The course of it so far. There is your crown,

  And He that wears the crown immortally

  Long guard it yours. If I affect it more

  Than as your honor and as your renown,

  275

  Let me no more from this obedience rise,

  Which my most inward true and duteous spirit

  Teacheth this prostrate and exterior bending.

  God witness with me, when I here came in

  And found no course of breath within your Majesty,

  280

  How cold it struck my heart! If I do feign,

  O, let me in my present wildness die

  And never live to show th’ incredulous world

  The noble change that I have purposèd.

  Coming to look on you, thinking you dead,

  285

  And dead almost, my liege, to think you were,

  I spake unto this crown as having sense,

  And thus upbraided it: “The care on thee depending

  Hath fed upon the body of my father;

  Therefore thou best of gold art worst of gold.

  290

  Other, less fine in carat, is more precious,

  Preserving life in med’cine potable;

  But thou, most fine, most honored, most renowned,

  Hast eat thy bearer up.” Thus, my most royal liege,

  Accusing it, I put it on my head

  295

  To try with it, as with an enemy

  That had before my face murdered my father,

  The quarrel of a true inheritor.

  But if it did infect my blood with joy

  Or swell my thoughts to any strain of pride,

  300

  If any rebel or vain spirit of mine

  Did with the least affection of a welcome

  Give entertainment to the might of it,

  Let God forever keep it from my head

  And make me as the poorest vassal is

  305

  That doth with awe and terror kneel to it.

  KING

  O my son,

  God put it in thy mind to take it hence

  That thou mightst win the more thy father’s love,

  Pleading so wisely in excuse of it.

  310

  Come hither, Harry, sit thou by my bed

  And hear, I think, the very latest counsel

  That ever I shall breathe. God knows, my son,

  By what bypaths and indirect crook’d ways

  I met this crown, and I myself know well

  315

  How troublesome it sat upon my head.

  To thee it shall descend with better quiet,

  Better opinion, better confirmation,

  For all the soil of the achievement goes

  With me into the earth. It seemed in me

  320

  But as an honor snatched with boist’rous hand,

  And I had many living to upbraid

  My gain of it by their assistances,

  Which daily grew to quarrel and to bloodshed,

  Wounding supposèd peace. All these bold fears

  325

  Thou see’st with peril I have answerèd,

  For all my reign hath been but as a scene

  Acting that argument. And now my death

  Changes the mood, for what in me was purchased

  Falls upon thee in a more fairer sort.

  330

  So thou the garland wear’st successively.

  Yet though thou stand’st more sure than I could do,

  Thou art not firm enough, since griefs are green,

  And all my friends, which thou must make thy friends,

  Have but their stings and teeth newly ta’en out,

  335

  By whose fell working I was first advanced

  And by whose power I well might lodge a fear

  To be again displaced; which to avoid,

  I cut them off and had a purpose now

  To lead out many to the Holy Land,

  340

  Lest rest and lying still might make them look

  Too near unto my state. Therefore, my Harry,

  Be it thy course to busy giddy minds

  With foreign quarrels; that action, hence borne out,

  May waste the memory of the former days.

  345

  More would I, but my lungs are wasted so

  That strength of speech is utterly denied me.

  How I came by the crown, O God forgive,

  And grant it may with thee in true peace live.

  PRINCE HENRY

  My gracious liege,

  350

  You won it, wore it, kept it, gave it me.

  Then plain and right must my possession be,

  Which I with more than with a common pain

  ’Gainst all the world will rightfully maintain.

  Enter Lord John of LANCASTER

  KING

  Look, look, here comes my John of Lancaster.

  LANCASTER

  355

  Health, peace, and happiness to my royal father.

  KING

  Thou bring’st me happiness and peace, son John,

  But health, alack, with youthful wings is flown

  From this bare withered trunk. Upon thy sight

  My worldly business makes a period.

  360

  Where is my Lord of Warwick?

  PRINCE HENRY

  My Lord of Warwick.

  Enter WARWICK and others

  KING

  Doth any name particular belong

  Unto the lodging where I first did swoon?

  WARWICK

  ’Tis called Jerusalem, my noble lord.

  KING

  365

  Laud be to God! Even there my life must end.

  It hath been prophesied to me many years,

  I should not die but in Jerusalem,

  Which vainly I supposed the Holy Land.

  But bear me to that chamber; there I’ll lie.

  370

  In that Jerusalem shall Harry die.

  Exeunt

  ACT 4, SCENE 3

  Modern Text

  KING Henry, his sons Thomas Duke of CLARENCE and Humphrey Duke of GLOUCESTER, WARWICK, and others enter.

  KING

  Now, my lords: if God grants us a victory in this violent civil war that bleeds at our very doorsteps, I will lead our young people in a greater cause, and fight nothing but holy wars. Our navy is ready, our army is assembled, the leaders who are my subordinates have their orders, and everything is standing by to achieve my main aim. The only drawback is that I’m feeling a little weak. So let’s wait a short while, until the rebels, now on the run, are brought back in line and are made obedient again.

  WARWICK

  We are sure that you’ll soon enjoy both good health and the rebels’ defeat.

  KING

  My son Humphrey of Gloucester, where is your brother, Prince Hal?

  GLOUCESTER

  I think he’s gone hunting at Windsor.

  KING

  Who’s with him?

  GLOUCESTER

  I don’t know, father.

  KING

  Isn’t his brother, Thomas of Clarence, with him?

  GLOUCESTER

  No, father. He’s here.

  CLARENCE

  What is it you’d like, father?

  KING

  Only good things for you, Thomas. Why aren’t you with the Prince, your brother? He loves you and you are neglecting him. He cares more about you than any of his other brothers, Thomas; cherish that fact, my boy. After I’m dead, you’ll be in a strong position to help maintain good relations between Prince Hal and his brothers.

  So don’t ignore him. Don’t turn away his love, and don’t ruin your good relationship with him by seeming cold or distant. He’s kind if he gets his way; he has compassion for others, and he’s generous with charity. But despite all this, once he gets angry, he becomes like a stone. He can be as tempestuous as winter, and can change himself as suddenly as snowflakes at dawn can turn to hail. So watch his temper.

  When he does something wrong, let him know it—gently, and when he’s in a happy mood. But when he’s ornery, give him room. Wait till his bad mood works itself out, like a beached whale that kills itself by struggling to return to sea. If you can do this, you’ll be a shelter for your friends, and a golden chain that links your brothers together. Once they’re united, the poison of criticism and rumor—which in this day and age is sure to be aimed at them—can’t do them any harm, no matter how explosive and destructive it may be.

  CLARENCE

  I’ll watch over him with as much care and love as possible.

  KING

  Then why aren’t you with him at Windsor?

  CLARENCE

  He’s not there today. He’s in London.

  KING

  Who’s with him? Do you know?

  CLARENCE

  Poins, and the usual suspects.

  KING

  Weeds grow best in the richest soil, and he—like myself at that age—is overrun by them. My sadness, then, cannot end with my death. When I imagine the lawless days and rotten times that you will face when I am dead and sleeping with my ancestors, the blood weeps from my heart.

  When Hal’s headstrong wildness has free rein; when aggression and passion are his advisors; when he has full opportunity to indulge in his riotous inclinations, then—Oh!—his criminal desires will fly like a bird towards danger and ruin.

  WARWICK

  Your highness, you’ve got him all wrong. The Prince is only studying his criminal companions, the way one studies a foreign language. In order to truly learn a language, one must learn even the most immodest curse word—which, as you know, is only learned in order to be identified and, thereafter, avoided. So, like vulgar language, the Prince will get rid of his followers when the time is right. Then they’ll live on in his memory as guidelines, by which he’ll judge the conduct of others. In this sense, he’ll change his past bad deeds to good ends.

  KING

  It’s rare that a bee builds its nest in a dead animal’s carcass. The Prince won’t leave his current company.

  WESTMORELAND enters.

  Who’s there? Westmoreland?

  WESTMORELAND

  I wish your highness good health, and happy news beyond the report I have to deliver! Prince John sends his respects: Mowbray, the Archbishop, Hastings and the rest are under arrest. There are no more rebels anywhere; the olive branch of peace has been extended everywhere.

  Here’s a letter explaining what happened. When you have time, you can read it and learn every detail.

  KING

  Oh Westmoreland; you’re like a summer bird, which sings the dawn in as winter ends.

  HARCOURT enters.

  Here comes more news.

  HARCOURT

  May heaven protect your highness from all enemies—and when they do rise up, may they fall just like the ones I’ve come to tell you about. The Earl of Northumberland and Lord Bardolph, with their mighty armies of Englishmen and Scotsmen, were defeated by the Sheriff of Yorkshire. This letter will tell you the details.

  KING

  Why am I sick at this good news? Why can’t life ever bring you things with their appropriate complements? Why is good news so often conveyed in ugly terms? Life either gives you hunger but no food—which is the experience of poor, healthy people—or it gives you a feast with no appetite—which is how the rich live, who have wealth and abundance but cannot enjoy it. I should be celebrating this good news, and yet my eyesight is failing, and my brain is delirious. Oh God! Come to me, I’m very sick.

  GLOUCESTER

  Take care, your highness!

  CLARENCE

  Oh, my royal father!

  WESTMORELAND

  My lord, feel better; take courage.

  WARWICK

  Wait a minute, princes. You know his highness has these episodes all the time. Move away from him. Give him air; he’ll be all right soon.

  CLARENCE

  No, no, he can’t survive these attacks much longer. His mind’s endless worry and concern have so shaken his body that it can barely hold together.

  GLOUCESTER

  The people are frightening me. They’ve seen terrible omens: children who seem to have supernatural fathers, and gruesomely deformed infants. The weather is in disarray, as if the calendar discovered some months were fast asleep, and decided to skip over them.

  CLARENCE

  The river has flooded three times, without receding between floods. The old people—those living history books—say that the last time this happened was when our great-grandfather, King Edward, fell ill and died.

  WARWICK

  Speak more softly, princes: the King is recovering.

  GLOUCESTER

  These attacks will be the death of him.

  KING

  Please, carry me into another room. Quietly. Please.

  They carry the KING to a bed.

  Please be silent, my friends, unless someone can play some restful, whispering music for my exhausted spirit.

  WARWICK

  Call the musicians in from the other room.

  KING

  Put the crown here on my pillow.

  CLARENCE

  His eyes are sunken, and he seems very pale.

  WARWICK

  Less noise, less noise!

  PRINCE HENRY enters.

  PRINCE HENRY

  Has anybody seen the Duke of Clarence?

  CLARENCE

  I’m here, brother, full of sadness.

  PRINCE HENRY

  What’s going on? Raining inside while it’s dry outside? How’s the King?

  GLOUCESTER

  Extremely sick.

  PRINCE HENRY

  Has he heard the good news yet? Tell him.

  GLOUCESTER

  Yes, he heard it, and it affected him deeply.

  PRINCE HENRY

  If he’s sick from joy, then he’ll get better without medicine.

  WARWICK

  Not so loud, sirs. Prince, speak more quietly. Your father the King is trying to sleep.

  CLARENCE

  Let’s go into the other room.

  WARWICK

  Will you come with us?

  PRINCE HENRY

  No. I’ll stay here with the King.

  Everyone exits except PRINCE HENRY.

  Why does the crown lie there on his pillow, when it’s such a troublesome bedfellow? Oh polished aggravation, golden anxiety! You keep the eyelids open wide, to face countless sleepless nights. You sleep with the crown now, father, but you don’t sleep as soundly, or half so deeply, as that man whose head is bound with nothing more than a cheap nightcap, who snores through the night. Oh, you crown! When you pinch the person wearing you, you’re like a great suit of armor worn on a hot day—you burn the person you’re protecting. There’s a feather near my father’s lips, and it’s not moving: if he were breathing, that light, weightless thing would move. My gracious lord! Father! This is a deep sleep indeed—this is a sleep that has removed the golden ring from the heads of many English kings. Father, I owe you tears and a deep grief, and my love, the bonds of family, and a son’s tender feelings will make sure that I pay you lavishly. Your debt to me is this kingly crown, which I am owed as your heir-apparent.

  (he puts the crown on his head) Look, here it sits, and God will guard it. Even if all the strength in the world were gathered into a single, giant arm, it wouldn’t be able to force this inherited honor from me. I will leave this to my son as you’ve left it to me.

  PRINCE HENRY exits.

  KING

  (waking) Warwick! Gloucester! Clarence!

  WARWICK, GLOUCESTER, CLARENCE, and the rest enter.

  CLARENCE

  Did you call, sir?

  WARWICK

  What can we do for you, your highness? How are you feeling?

  KING

  Why did you leave me alone, sirs?

  CLARENCE

  We left my brother, Prince Hal, here. He decided to sit with you.

  KING

  The Prince of Wales? Where is he? I want to see him. He’s not here.

  WARWICK

  This door’s open. He went this way.

  GLOUCESTER

  He didn’t come through the room we were in.

  KING

  Where’s the crown? Who took it off my pillow?

  WARWICK

  When we left, sir, it was here.

  KING

  The Prince has taken it. Go, find him. Is he in such a hurry that he thinks my sleep is my death? Find him, Lord Warwick. Rebuke him, and bring him here.

  WARWICK exits.

  Henry’s actions join forces with my illness, and together they will kill me. Sons, look at what things you are. See how quickly blood bonds are broken, once money’s involved. This is what happens to foolish, overly concerned fathers who ruin their sleep with worry, burden their minds with anxiety, and break their bodies with hard work. This is what happens to fathers who amass vast amounts of money, earned in unsavory ways. This is what happens to fathers who have taken care to give their sons good educations, and train them in matters of war. Fathers are like bees, collecting sweet pollen from all the flowers in the world. We pack our thighs full of wax and our mouths full of honey, only to be killed when we return to the hive. This is the bitter fate of the dying father, no matter what he has accumulated in his life.

  WARWICK enters.

  Where is that impatient man who can’t even wait for his friend, sickness, to put an end to me?

  WARWICK

  Sir, I found the Prince in the next room, with tears flowing down his cheeks. He looked so sorrowful that a tyrant—who never drank anything but blood—would, upon seeing him, have washed the blood from his knife with tears. He’s on his way.

  KING

  But why did he take away the crown?

  PRINCE HENRY enters.

  Look, here he comes. Come here, Harry. (to the rest)

  Leave the room, and leave us here alone.

  Everyone leaves except the KING and PRINCE HENRY.

  PRINCE HENRY