Hen. IV. Why how now my sonne?

I had thought the last time I had you in schooling,

I had given you a lesson for all,

And do you now begin againe ?

Why tel me my sonne,

Doest thou thinke the time so long,

That thou wouldest haue it before the

Breath be out of my mouth?

Hen. V. Most soueraign Lord and welbeloved father,
I came into your Chamber to comfort the melancholy
Soule of your bodie, and finding you at that time
Past all recouery, and dead to my thinking,
God is my witnesse: and what should I doo,
But with weeping tears lament ye death of you my
father,

And after that, séeing the Crowne, I tooke it:

And tel me my father, who might better take it
then I,

After your death? but seeing you liue,

I most humbly render it into your Majesties hands,
And the happiest man aliue, that my father liue,
And liue my Lord and Father, for euer.

Hen. IV. Stand vp my sonne,

Thine answere hath sounded wel in mine eares,

For I must néed confesse that I was in a very sound
sleep,

And altogither vnmindful of thy comming:

But come neare my sonne,

And let me put thée in possession whilst I liue, That none depriue thée of it after my death. Hen. V. Well may I take it at your maiesties hands, But it shal neuer touch my head, so long as my [He taketh the Crowne.

father liues.

Hen. IV. God giue thée ioy my sonne

God blesse thée, and make thée his seruant,

And send thée a prosperous raigne.

For God knowes my sonne, how hardly I came by it,
And how hardly I haue maintained it.

Hen. V. Howsoeuer you came by it, I know not,

And now I haue it from you, and from you I wil
kéepe it :

And he that séekes to take the Crowne from my head,

Let him looke that his armour be thicker then mine,
Or I will pearce him to the heart,

Were it harder than brasse or bollion.

Hen. IV. Nobly spoken, and like a King.

Now trust me my Lords, I feare not but my sonne
Will be as warlike and victorious a Prince,

As euer raigned in England.

L. Ambo. His former life shewes no lesse.

Hen IV. Wel my lords I know not whether it be for
sléep,

Or drawing neare of drowsie summer of death,
But I am verie much giuen to sléepe,
Therefore good my Lords and my sonne,
Draw the curtaines, depart my chamber,

And cause some musicke to rocke me a sléepe.

[Exeunt omnes. The King dieth.

(III) King Henry the Fifth banishes his misleaders. Enter KNIGHTS raunging.

Tom. Gogs wounds, the King is dead.

Iock. Dead, then gogs blood, we shall be all kings.
Ned. Gogs wounds, I shall be Lord chiefe Iustice
Of England.

Tom. Why how, are you broken out of prison ?
Ned. Gogs wounds, how the villaine stinkes.

Iock. Why what wil become of thée now?

Fye vpon him, how the rascall stinkes.

Theefe. Marry I wil go and serue my maister againe.
Tom. Gogs blood, doost think that he wil haue any such
Scab'd knaue as thou art? what man he is a king now.
Ned. Hold thée, heres a couple of Angels for thée,

And get thée gone, for the King wil not be long
Before he come this way:

And hereafter I wil tel the king of thée.

Iock. Oh how it did me good, to see the king

When he was crowned:

[Exit Theefe.

Me thought his seate was like the figure of heauen,
And his person like vnto a God.

Ned. But who would haue thought,

That the king would haue changde his countenance
so?

Iock. Did you not sée with what grace

He sent his embassage into France? to tel the French
king

That Harry of England hath sent for the Crowne,
And Harry of England wil haue it.

Tom. But twas a litle to make the people beléeue,
That he was sorie for his fathers death.

[The Trumpet sounds.

Ned. Gogs wounds, the king comes,

Let all stand aside.

Enter the KING with the ARCHBISHOP, and the LORD OF OXFORD.

Iock. How do you my Lord?

Ned. How now Harry?

Tut my Lord, put away these dumpes,

You are a king, and all the realme is yours:
What man, do you not remember the old sayings,
You know I must be Lord chiefe Iustice of England,
Trust me my lord, me thinks you are very much
changed,

And tis but with a litle sorrowing, to make folkes
beléeue

The death of your father gréeues you,

And tis nothing so.

Hen. V. I prethée Ned, mend thy manners,

And be more modester in thy tearmes,

For my vnfeined gréefe is not to be ruled by thy
flattering

And dissembling talke, thou saist I am changed,

So I am indeed, and so must thou be, and that
quickly,

Or else I must cause thée to be chaunged.

Iock. Gogs wounds, how like you this?

Sownds tis not so swéete as Musicke,

Tom. I trust we haue not offended your grace no way.
Hen. V. Ah Tom, your former life gréeues me,

And makes me to abando & abolish your company

for euer,

And therfore not vpō pain of death to approch my

presence

By ten miles space, then if I heare wel of you,
It may be I wil do somewhat for you,
Otherwise looke for no more fauour at my hands,
Then at any other mans: And therefore be gone,
We haue no other matters to talke on.

[Exeunt Knights. Now my good Lord Archbishop of Canterbury? What say you to our Embassage into France?

'FROM HOLINSHED'S CHRONICLES.

(I) An Army is raised to meet Northumberland.

"The earle of Northumberland was now marching forward with great power, which he had got thither, either to aid his sonne and brother (as was thought) or at the least towards the king, to procure a peace; but the earle of Westmerland, and sir Robert Waterton, knight, had got an armie on foot, and meant to meet him. The earle of Northumberland, taking neither of them to be his freend, turned suddenlie backe, and withdrew himselfe into Warkewoorth castell."

(II) The French send aid to Glendower.

"... the French king had appointed one of the marshals of France, called Montmerancie, and the master of his crosbowes, with twelue thousand men, to saile into Wales to aid Owen Glendouer. They tooke shipping at Brest, and, hauing the wind prosperous, landed at Milford hauen, with an hundred and fourtie ships, as Thomas Walsingham saith; though Enguerant de Monstrellet maketh mention but of an hundred and twentie... they departed towards the towne of Denbigh, where they found Owen Glendouer abiding for their comming, with ten thousand of his Welshmen. Here were the Frenchmen ioifullie receiued of the Welsh rebels, and so, when all things were prepared, they passed by Glamorganshire towards Worcester, and there burnt the suburbes; but, hearing of the kings approch, they suddenlie returned towards Wales."

(III) Flight of Northumberland into Scotland.

"[Northumberland] hearing that his counsell was bewraied, and his confederats brought to confusion, through too much hast of the archbishop of Yorke, with three hundred horsse

got him to Berwike. The king comming forward quickelie, wan the castell of Warkewoorth. Wherevpon the earle of Northumberland, not thinking himselfe in suertie at Berwike, fled with the lord Berdolfe into Scotland, where they were receiued of Sir Dauid Fleming."

(IV) Death of Glendower.

"The Welsh rebell Owen Glendouer made an end of his wretched life in this tenth yeare [1408-9] of king Henrie his reigne; being driuen now in his latter time (as we find recorded) to such miserie, that, in manner despairing of all comfort, he fled into desert places and solitarie caues; where, being destitute of all releefe and succour, dreading to shew his face to anie creature, and finallie lacking meat to susteine nature, for meere hunger and lacke of food, [he] miserablie pined awaie and died."

(V) Conspiracy of Northumberland, the Archbishop of York and others.

"But at the same time, to his further disquieting, there was a conspiracie put in practise against him at home by the earle of Northumberland, who had conspired with Richard Scroope, archbishop of Yorke, Thomas Mowbraie, earle marshall, sonne to Thomas duke of Norfolke, (who for the quarrell betwixt him and king Henrie had beene banished, as ye haue heard,) the lords Hastings, Fauconbridge, Berdolfe, and diuerse others. It was appointed that they should meet altogither with their whole power, vpon Yorkeswold, at a daie assigned, and that the earle of Northumberland should be cheefteine; promising to bring with him a great number of Scots. The archbishop, accompanied with the earle marshall, deuised certeine articles of such matters, as it was supposed that not onelie the commonaltie of the Realme, but also the nobilitie found themselues greeued with which articles they shewed first vnto such of their adherents as were neere about them, & after sent them abroad to their freends further off; assuring them that, for redresse of such oppressions, they would shed the last drop of blood in their bodies, if need were.

"The archbishop, not meaning to staie after he saw himselfe accompanied with a great number of men, that came flocking to Yorke to take his part in this quarrell, foorthwith discouered