The quarrel of a true inheritor.
But if it did infect my blood with joy,
Or swell my thoughts to any strain of pride;
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 for ever keep it from my head!
And make me as the poorest vassal is,
That doth with awe and terror kneel to it!
K. Hen. O my son!

Heaven put it in thy mind, to take it hence,
That thou might'st win the more thy father's love,
Pleading so wisely in excuse of it.

Come hither, Harry, sit thou by my bed;

And hear, I think, the very latest counsel

That ever I shall breathe. Heaven knows, my son,
By what by-paths, and indirect, crook'd ways,

I met this crown; and I myself know well,

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 seem'd in me,

But as an honour snatch'd 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.
What in me was purchas'd,

Falls upon thee in a more fairer sort;

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 thy friends, which thou must make thy friends,
Have but their stings and teeth newly ta'en out;

By whose fell working I was first advanc'd,
And by whose power I well might lodge a fear
To be again displac'd: which to avoid,
I cut them off; and had a purpose now
To lead out many to the Holy Land;

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.
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!
P. Hen. My gracious liege,

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.

What in me was purchas'd, &c.-The royal dignity which I possess was obtained by artifice-it is not my right, and I have held it precariously, and in fear. Thou the garland wear'st successively.The crown devolves to thee from thy father-thy hereditary right is established, and thou art secure in it.

HENRY V.

The noble change that he had purposed, as he bound his brows with the crown of his dying father, was exemplified in Prince Henry when he became King of England. One circumstance of his public conduct, which is finely exhibited by Shakspeare, is illustrative of his respect for the constitution and laws of his kingdom, and as an example of his disinterestedness and veneration for justice, does honour to his memory.

"Henry the Fifth, when' Prince of Wales, was wild, and in the disgraceful society of Sir John Falstaff, Poins, and other idlers, committed several offences against the laws. Some of his attendants had been taken up by the officers of justice, for a riot, and were brought before the chief justice, Sir William Gascoigne. While they were in court, prince Henry came, and rudely demanded that they should be released. The chief justice refused. The

prince insulted, and, it is supposed, even struck the judge. The chief justice with great dignity kept his seat upon the bench, and in the authoritative tone of a man, to whom the execution of the laws is intrusted, rebuked the prince, and ordered him to be taken into custody. To this the prince, recollecting his duty, becomingly submitted."

It is related by an old historian that Prince Henry, being ordered to prison, "doing reverence" to the judge, departed, and went to the King's Bench, as he was commanded. One of his attendants, displeased at this indignity, (as he deemed it,) offered to the prince, and thinking to incense the King against the chief justice, repaired to his majesty with the whole affair. The King, on hearing the circumstance, paused for a moment, and then, lifting his eyes and clasped hands to Heaven, exclaimed, "O merciful God! how much, above all other men, am I indebted to thine infinite goodness; especially that thou hast given me a judge who feareth not to minister justice, and also a son who can suffer worthily and obey justice."

"After the death of his father, when Henry became king, the nation expected he would give himself up to amusement and intemperance; but on the contrary, he immediately assumed the deportment and conduct of a wise monarch, and, dismissing from his presence his former companions, instead of disgracing the chief justice who had committed him, he thanked him for the firmness and dignity with which he had executed the laws, and conferred great favours upon him."

KING HENRY, the Princes his brothers, and the CHIEF JUSTICE.

Ch. Just. Good morrow; and heaven save your majesty!

King. This new and gorgeous garment, majesty,

Sits not so easy on me as you think.

Brothers, you mix your sadness with some fear;

This is the English, not the Turkish court.

I'll be

good brothers-be assured,

your father and your brother too;

Let me but bear your love, I'll bear your cares.

P. John, and the others. We hope no other from your majesty.

King. You all look strangely on me :—and you most; You are, I think, assur'd I love you not.

Ch. Just. I am assur'd, if I be measur'd rightly,
Your majesty hath no just cause to hate me.
King. No!

How might a prince of my great hopes forget
So great indignities you laid upon me?

What! rate, rebuke, and roughly send to prison
Th' immediate heir of England? Was this easy?
May this be wash'd in Lethe, and forgotten?

Ch. Just. I then did use the person of your father:
The image of his power lay then in me :
And, in th' administration of his law,
Whiles I was busy for the commonwealth,
Your highness pleased to forget my place,
The majesty and power of law and justice,
The image of the king whom I presented,
And struck me in my very seat of judgment:
Whereon, as an offender to your father,
I gave bold way to my authority,
And did commit you. If the deed were ill,
Be you contented, wearing now the garland,
To have a' son set your decrees at nought;
To pluck down justice from your awful bench;
To trip the course of law, and blunt the sword
That guards the peace and safety of your person;
Nay, more; to spurn at your most royal image,
And mock your workings in a second body.
Question your royal thoughts, make the case yours;
Be now the father, and propose a son:

Hear your own dignity so much profan'd,
See your most dreadful laws so loosely slighted,
Behold yourself so by a son disdain'd;
And then imagine me taking your part,

S

And, in your power, soft silencing your son:
After this cold considerance, sentence me;
And, as you are a king, speak in your state,→
What I have done, that misbecame my place,
My person, or my liege's sovereignty.

King. You are right, justice, and you weigh this well;
Therefore, still bear the balance, and the sword:
And I do wish your honours may increase,

Till you do live to see a son of mine
Offend you, and obey you, as I did.
So shall I live to speak my father's words ;-
Happy am I, that have a man so bold,
That dares do justice on my proper son:
And not less happy, having such a son,
That would deliver up his greatness so
Into the hands of justice. You did commit me ;
For which, I do commit into your hand

Th' unstain'd sword that you have us'd to bear;
With this remembrance,-That you use the same
With the like bold, just, and impartial spirit,
That you have done 'gainst me.

There is my hand;
You shall be as a father to my youth:

My voice shall sound as you do prompt mine ear;
And I will stoop and humble my intents

To your well-practis'd, wise directions.

And, princes all, believe me, I beseech you ;-
My father's gone into his grave, and in
His tomb lie all my wild affections;
And with his spirit sadly I survive,
To mock the expectation of the world;
To frustrate prophecies; and to raze out
Rotten opinion, who hath writ me down
After my seeming. The tide of blood in me
Hath proudly flow'd in vanity, till now:
Now doth it turn, and ebb back to the sea;
Where it shall mingle with the state of floods,
And flow henceforth in formal majesty.
Now call we our high court of parliament:
And let us choose such limbs of noble counsel,