K. Hen. Indeed, the French may lay twenty French[5078]
crowns to one, they will beat us; for they bear them on[5078]
their shoulders: but it is no English treason to cut French[5078]
crowns, and to-morrow the king himself will be a clipper.[5078]
[Exeunt Soldiers.[5079]
Upon the king! let us our lives, our souls,[5080][5081]215
Our debts, our careful wives,[5081]
Our children and our sins lay on the king![5081]
We must bear all. O hard condition,[5081][5082]
Twin-born with greatness, subject to the breath[5081][5083]
Of every fool, whose sense no more can feel[5081]220
But his own wringing! What infinite heart's-ease[5081][5084]
Must kings neglect, that private men enjoy![5081]
And what have kings, that privates have not too,
Save ceremony, save general ceremony?[5085]
And what art thou, thou idol ceremony?225
What kind of god art thou, that suffer'st more
Of mortal griefs than do thy worshippers?
What are thy rents? what are thy comings in?[5086]
O ceremony, show me but thy worth![5086][5087]
What is thy soul of adoration?[5088]230
Art thou aught else but place, degree and form,
Creating awe and fear in other men?
Wherein thou art less happy being fear'd
Than they in fearing.
What drink'st thou oft, instead of homage sweet,235
But poison'd flattery? O, be sick, great greatness,
And bid thy ceremony give thee cure!
Think'st thou the fiery fever will go out[5089]
With titles blown from adulation?
Will it give place to flexure and low bending?[5090]240
Canst thou, when thou command'st the beggar's knee,
Command the health of it? No, thou proud dream,
That play'st so subtly with a king's repose;[5091]
I am a king that find thee, and I know
'Tis not the balm, the sceptre and the ball,245
The sword, the mace, the crown imperial,
The intertissued robe of gold and pearl,
The farced title running 'fore the king,
The throne he sits on, nor the tide of pomp
That beats upon the high shore of this world,250
No, not all these, thrice-gorgeous ceremony,[5092]
Not all these, laid in bed majestical,
Can sleep so soundly as the wretched slave,[5093]
Who with a body fill'd and vacant mind
Gets him to rest, cramm'd with distressful bread;[5094]255
Never sees horrid night, the child of hell,[5095]
But, like a lackey, from the rise to set[5096]
Sweats in the eye of Phœbus and all night
Sleeps in Elysium; next day after dawn,
Doth rise and help Hyperion to his horse,[5097]260
And follows so the ever-running year,
With profitable labour, to his grave:
And, but for ceremony, such a wretch,
Winding up days with toil and nights with sleep,
Had the fore-hand and vantage of a king.[5098]265
The slave, a member of the country's peace,
Enjoys it; but in gross brain little wots
What watch the king keeps to maintain the peace,
Whose hours the peasant best advantages.
Enter Erpingham.
Erp. My lord, your nobles, jealous of your absence,[5099]270
Seek through your camp to find you.
K. Hen. Good old knight,[5100]
Collect them all together at my tent:
I'll be before thee.[5100]
Erp. I shall do't, my lord. [Exit.
K. Hen. O God of battles! steel my soldiers' hearts;
Possess them not with fear; take from them now275
The sense of reckoning, if the opposed numbers[5101]
Pluck their hearts from them. Not to-day, O Lord,[5101][5102]
O, not to-day, think not upon the fault[5103]
My father made in compassing the crown!
I Richard's body have interred new;280
And on it have bestow'd more contrite tears
Than from it issued forced drops of blood:
Five hundred poor I have in yearly pay,
Who twice a-day their wither'd hands hold up
Toward heaven, to pardon blood; and I have built[5104]285
Two chantries, where the sad and solemn priests[5104]
Sing still for Richard's soul. More will I do;[5104]
Though all that I can do is nothing worth,
Since that my penitence comes after all,[5105]
Imploring pardon.290
Enter Gloucester.
Glou. My liege!