deliver up all dignity,
Crown, sceptre, sword, unto your majesty.

KING. My heart surfeits with joy in hearing this,
And, dear[est] son, I'll bless thee with a kiss.

HEN. I will not rise; I will not leave this ground
Till all these voices, joined in one sound,
Cry: God save Henry, second of that name,
Let his friends live, his foes see death with shame!

ALL. God save Henry, second of that name,
Let his friends live, his foes see death with shame!

HEN. Amen, amen, amen!

JOHN. Hark! mother, hark!
My brother is already turned clerk.

QUEEN. He is a recreant; I am mad with rage.

HEN. Be angry at your envy, gracious mother,
Learn patience and true humility
Of your worst-tutor'd son; for I am he.
Hence, hence that Frenchwoman; give her her dowry,
Let her not speak, to trouble my mild soul,
Which of this world hath taken her last leave:
And by her power will my proud flesh control.
Off with these silks; my garments shall be grey,
My shirt hard hair; my bed the ashy dust;
My pillow but a lump of hard'ned clay:
For clay I am, and with clay I must.
O, I beseech ye, let me go alone,
To live, where my loose life I may bemoan.

KING. Son!

QUEEN. Son!

RICH. Brother!

JOHN. Brother!

HEN. Let none call me their son; I'm no man's brother,
My kindred is in heav'n, I know no other.
Farewell, farewell; the world is your's; pray take it,
I'll leave vexation, and with joy forsake it.
[_Exit_.

LADY F. Wondrous conversion!

FAU. Admirable good:
Now, by my halidom, Moll, passing good.

RICH. H'hath fir'd my soul; I will to Palestine.
And pay my vows before the Sepulchre.
Among the multitude of misbelief,
I'll show myself the soldier of Christ:
Spend blood, sweat tears, for satisfaction
Of many--many sins, which I lament;
And never think to have them pardoned,
Till I have part of Syria conquered.

GLO. He makes me wonder, and inflames my spirits,
With an exceeding zeal to Portingale,
Which kingdom the unchris'ned Saracens[556],
The black-fac'd Africans, and tawny Moors,
Have got unjustly in possession:
Whence I will fire them with the help of heaven.

SKINK. Skink will scorch them, brave Gloster;
Make carbonadoes of their bacon-flitches;
Deserve to be counted valiant by his valour,
And Rivo[557] will he cry, and Castile too,
And wonders in the land of Seville do.

ROB. O, that I were a man to see these fights:
To spend my blood amongst these worthy knights