Enter Erpingham.
Good morrow, old Sir Thomas Erpingham:
A good soft pillow for that good white head
Were better than a churlish turf of France.15
Erp. Not so, my liege: this lodging likes me better,
Since I may say 'Now lie I like a king.'
K. Hen. 'Tis good for men to love their present pains[5039]
Upon example; so the spirit is eased:[5040]
And when the mind is quicken'd, out of doubt,20
The organs, though defunct and dead before,
Break up their drowsy grave and newly move,
With casted slough and fresh legerity.[5041]
Lend me thy cloak, Sir Thomas. Brothers both,
Commend me to the princes in our camp;25
Do my good morrow to them, and anon
Desire them all to my pavilion.
Glou. We shall, my liege.
Erp. Shall I attend your grace?
K. Hen. No, my good knight;
Go with my brothers to my lords of England:30
I and my bosom must debate a while,
And then I would no other company.
Erp. The Lord in heaven bless thee, noble Harry!
[Exeunt all but King.[5042]
K. Hen. God-a-mercy, old heart! thou speak'st cheerfully.