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And thou shalt find a king, that will revenge Lord Stafford's death.

[They fight, and Blunt is slain.

Enter HOTSPUR.

Hot. O Douglas, hadst thou fought at Holmedon thus,

I never had triumph'd upon a Scot.
Doug. All's done, all's won; here breathless
lies the king.
Hot. Where?
Doug. Here.

Hot. This, Douglas? no, I know this face full well:

A gallant knight he was, his name was Blunt; Semblably furnish'd like the king himself.

Doug. A fool go with thy soul, whither it goes! A borrow'd title hast thou bought too dear. Why didst thou tell me that thou wert a king? Hot. The king hath many marching in his

coats.

Doug. Now, by my sword, I will kill all his

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Other alarums. Enter FALSTAFF.

Fal. Though I could 'scape shot-free at London, I fear the shot here; here's no scoring, but upon the pate.-Soft! who art thou? Sir Walter Blunt;-there's honour for you: Here's no vanity-I am as hot as molten lead, and as heavy too: God keep lead out of me! I need no more weight than mine own bowels.-I have led my raggamuffins where they are peppered: there's but three of my hundred and fifty left alive; and they are for the town's end, to beg during life. But who comes here?

Enter Prince HENRY.

P. Hen. What, stand'st thou idle here? lend me thy sword:

Many a nobleman lies stark and stiff
Under the hoofs of vaunting enemies,
Whose deaths are unreveng'd: Pr'ythee, lend
thy sword.

Fal. O Hal, I pr'y thee, give me leave to breathe a while.-Turk Gregory never did such deeds in arms, as I have done this day. I have paid Percy, I have made him sure.

P. Hen He is, indeed; and living to kill thee. Lend me thy sword, I pr'ythee.

Fal. Nay, before God, Hal, if Percy be alive, thou get'st not my sword; but take my pistol, if thou wilt.

P. Hen. Give it me: What, is it in the case? Fal. Ay, Hal; 'tis hot, 'tis hot; there's that will sack a city.

The Prince draws out a bottle of sack.

P. Hen. What, is't a time to jest and dally now? [Throws it at him, and exit. Fal. Well, if Percy be alive, I'll pierce him. If he do come in my way, so: if he do not, if I come in his, willingly, let him make a carbonado Walter hath: Give me life: which if I can save, of me. I like not such grinning honour as sir so; if not, honour comes unlooked for, and there's an end. [Exit.

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P. Hen. Lead me, my lord? I do not need your help:

And heaven forbid, a shallow scratch should drive
The prince of Wales from such a field as this;
Where stain'd nobility lies trodden on,
And rebels' arms triúinph in massacres !

P. John. We breathe too long:-Come, cousin
Westmoreland,

Our duty this way lies; for God's sake, come.

[Exeunt Prince John and Westmoreland. P. Hen. By heaven, thou hast deceiv'd me, I did not think thee lord of such a spirit: Lancaster, Before, I lov'd thee as a brother, John; But now, I do respect thee as my soul.

K. Hen. I saw him hold lord Percy at the point, With lustier maintenance than I did look for Of such an ungrown warrior.

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Alarums. Enter DOUGLAS. Doug. Another king! they grow like Hydra's heads:

I am the Douglas, fatal to all those That wear those colours on them.-What art thou,

That counterfeit'st the person of a king?
K. Hen. The king himself; who, Douglas,
grieves at heart,

So many of his shadows thou hast met,
And not the very king. I have two boys,
Seek Percy and thyself, about the field:
But, seeing thou fall'st on me so luckily,
I will assay thee; so defend thyself.

Doug. I fear, thou art another counterfeit ; And yet, in faith, thou bear'st thee like a king:

But mine, I am sure, thou art, whoe'er thou be, And thus I win thee.

[They fight; the King being in danger, enter Prince Henry.

P. Hen. Hold up thy head, vile Scot, or thou art like

Never to hold it up again! the spirits
Of Shirley, Stafford, Blunt, are in my arms:
It is the prince of Wales, that threatens thee;
Who never promiseth, but he means to pay.—
[They fight; Douglas flies.
Cheerly, my lord; How fares your grace?-
Sir Nicholas Gawsey hath for succour sent,
And so hath Clifton: I'll to Clifton straight.
K. Hen. Stay, and breathe a while :-
Thou hast redeem'd thy lost opinion;
And show'd, thou mak'st some tender of my life,
In this fair rescue thou hast brought to me.
P. Hen. O heaven! they did me too much
injury,

That ever said, I hearken'd for your death.
If it were so, I might have let alone
The insulting hand of Douglas over you;
Which would have been as speedy in your end,
As all the poisonous potions in the world,
And sav'd the treacherous labour of your son.
K. Hen. Make up to Clifton, I'll to sir Nicholas
Gawsey.
[Exit King Henry.

Enter HOTSPUR.

Hot. If I mistake not, thou art Harry Monmouth.

P. Hen. Thou speak'st as if I would deny my

name.

Hot. My name is Harry Percy. P. Hen. Why, then I see A very valiant rebel of the name. I am the prince of Wales; and think not, Percy, To share with me in glory any more: Two stars keep not their motion in one sphere; Nor can one England brook a double reign, Of Harry Percy, and the prince of Wales.

Hot. Nor shall it, Harry, for the hour is come To end the one of us; And 'would to God, Thy name in arms were now as great as mine! P.Hen. I'll make it greater, ere I part from thee; And all the budding honours on thy crest I'll crop, to make a garland for my head. Hot. I can no longer brook thy vanities.

Enter FALSTAFF.

[They fight.

Fal. Well said, Hal! to it, Hal!-Nay, you shall find no boy's play here, I can tell you. Enter DOUGLAS; he fights with FALSTAFF, who falls down as if he were dead, and exit DOUGLAS. HOTSPUR is wounded, and falls.

Hot. O, Harry, thou hast robb'd me of my youth, I better brook the loss of brittle life, Than those proud titles thou hast won of me; They wound my thoughts, worse than thy sword my flesh:

| But thought's the slave of life, and life time's fool; And time, that takes survey of all the world, Must have a stop. O, I could prophecy, But that the earthy and cold hand of death Lies on my tongue :-No, Percy, thou art dust, And food for[Dies.

P. Hen. For worms, brave Percy: Fare thee
well, great heart !—

Ill-weav'd ambition, how much art thou shrunk!
When that this body did contain a spirit,
A kingdom for it was too small a bound;
But now, two paces of the vilest earth
Is room enough:-This earth, that bears thee
dead,

Bears not alive so stout a gentleman.
If thou wert sensible of courtesy,
I should not make so dear a show of zeal:-
But let my favours hide thy mangled face!
And, even in thy behalf, I'll thank myself
For doing these fair rites of tenderness.
Adieu, and take thy praise with thee to heaven!
Thy ignominy sleep with thee in the grave,
But not remember'd in thy epitaph!—

He sees Falstaff on the ground
What! old acquaintance! could not all this flesh
Keep in a little life? Poor Jack, farewell!
I could have better spar'd a better man.
O, I should have a heavy miss of thee,
If I were much in love with vanity.
Death hath not struck so fat a deer to-day,
Though many dearer, in this bloody fray:-
Embowell'd will I see thee by and by;
Till then, in blood by noble Percy lie. [Erit.

Fal. [Rising slowly. Embowell'd! if thou embowel me to-day, I'll give you leave to powder me, and eat me too, to-morrow. 'Sblood, 'twas time to counterfeit, or that hot termagant Scot had paid me scot and lot too. Counterfeit? I lie, I am no counterfeit: To die, is to be a counterfeit; for he is but the counterfeit of a man, who hath not the life of a man: but to counterfeit dying, when a man thereby liveth, is to be no counterfeit, but the true and perfect image of life indeed. The better part of valour is-discretion; in the which better part, I have saved my life. 'Zounds, I am afraid of this gunpowder Percy, though he be dead: How, if he should counterfeit too, and rise? I am afraid, he would prove the better counterfeit. Therefore I'll make him sure: yea, and I'll swear I kill'd him. Why may not he rise, as well as I? Nothing confutes me but eyes, and nobody sees me. Therefore, sirrah, Stabbing him.] with a new wound in your thigh, come you along with me.

[Takes Hotspur on his back.

Re-enter Prince HENRY and Prince JOHN. P. Hen. Come, brother John, full bravely hast thou flesh'd Thy maiden sword.

P. John. But, soft! whom have we here? Did you not tell me, this fat man was dead?

P. Hen. I did; I saw him dead, breathless, Ill-spirited Worcester! did we not send grace,

and bleeding,

Upon the ground.

Art thou alive? or is it phantasy

That plays upon our eye-sight? I pr'ythee, speak; We will not trust our eyes, without our ears:Thou art not what thou seem'st.

Fal. No, that's certain; I am not a double man: but if I be not Jack Falstaff, then am I a Jack. There is Percy: Throwing the body down.] if your father will do me any honour, so; if not, let him kill the next Percy himself. I look to be either earl or duke, I can assure you. P. Hen. Why, Percy I kill'd myself, and saw thee dead.

Fal. Didst thou?-Lord! Lord! how this world is given to lying!-I grant you, I was down, and out of breath; and so was he: but we rose both at an instant, and fought a long hour by Shrewsbury clock. If I may be believed, so; if not, let them, that should reward valour, bear the sin upon their own heads. I'll take it upon my death, I gave him this wound in the thigh: if the man were alive, and would deny it, I would make him eat a piece of my sword.

P. John. This is the strangest tale that e'er I heard.

P. Hen. This is the strangest fellow, brother
John.-

Come, bring your luggage nobly on your back:
For my part, if a lie may do thee grace,
I'll gild it with the happiest terms I have.
[A retreat is sounded.
The trumpet sounds retreat, the day is ours.
Come, brother, let's to the highest of the field,
To see what friends are living, who are dead.

[Exeunt Prince Henry and Prince John. Fal. I'll follow, as they say, for reward. He that rewards me, God reward him! If I do grow great, I'll grow less; for I'll purge, and leave sack, and live cleanly, as a nobleman should do. [Exit, bearing off the body.

SCENE V.-Another part of the field. The trumpets sound. Enter King HENRY, Prince HENRY, Prince JOHN, WESTMORELAND, and Others, with WORCESTER, and VERNON, pri

soners.

K. Hen. Thus ever did rebellion find rebuke.

Pardon, and terms of love to all of you?
And would'st thou turn our offers contrary?
Misuse the tenor of thy kinsman's trust?
Three knights upon our party slain to-day,
A noble earl, and many a creature else,
Had been alive this hour,

If, like a christian, thou hadst truly borne
Betwixt our armies true intelligence.

Wor. What I have done, my safety urg'd me to;
And I embrace this fortune patiently,
Since not to be avoided it falls on me.

K. Hen. Bear Worcester to the death, and Vernon too:

Other offenders we will pause upon.

[Exeunt Worcester and Vernon, guarded. How goes the field?

P. Hen. The noble Scot, lord Douglas, when he saw

The fortune of the day quite turn'd from him,
The noble Percy slain, and all his men
Upon the foot of fear,-fled with the rest;
And, falling from a hill, he was so bruis'd,
That the pursuers took him. At my tent
The Douglas is; and I beseech your grace,
may dispose of him.

I

K. Hen. With all my heart.

P. Hen. Then, brother John of Lancaster, to

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our power.

You, son John, and my cousin Westmoreland, Towards York shall bend you, with your dearest speed,

To meet Northumberland, and the prelate Scroop,
Who, as we hear, are busily in arms:
Myself,-and you, son Harry,-will towards
Wales,

To fight with Glendower, and the earl of March.
Rebellion in this land shall lose his sway,
Meeting the check of such another day;
And since this business go fair is done,
Let us not leave till all our own be won.

[Exeunt.

VOL. I.

21

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Is thought with child by the stern tyrant war,
And no such matter; Rumour is a pipe
Blown by surmises, jealousies, conjectures;
And of so easy and so plain a stop,

That the blunt monster with uncounted heads,
The still-discordant wavering multitude,
Can play upon it. But what need I thus
My well-known body to anatomize
Among my household? Why is Rumour here?
I run before king Harry's victory;
Who, in a bloody field by Shrewsbury,
Hath beaten down young Hotspur, and his troops,
Quenching the flame of bold rebellion
Even with the rebels' blood. But what mean I
To speak so true at first? my office is

To noise abroad,-that Harry Monmouth fell Under the wrath of noble Hotspur's sword; And that the king before the Douglas' rage Stoop'd his anointed head as low as death. This have I rumour'd through the peasant towns Between that royal field of Shrewsbury And this worm-eaten hold of ragged stone, Where Hotspur's father, old Northumberland, | Lies crafty-sick: the posts come tiring on, And not a man of them brings other news Than they have learn'd of me; From Rumour's tongues

They bring smooth comforts false, worse than [Exit.

true wrongs.

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Bard. Who keeps the gate here, ho?-Where is the earl?

Port. What shall I say you are?
Bard. Tell thou the earl,

That the lord Bardolph doth attend him here. Port. His lordship is walk'd forth into the orchard;

Please it your honour, knock but at the gate, And he himself will answer.

Enter NORTHUMBERLAND. Bard. Here comes the earl.

North. What news, lord Bardolph? every minute now

Should be the father of some stratagem:
The times are wild; contention, like a horse
Full of high feeding, madly hath broke loose,
And bears down all before him.

Bard. Noble earl,

I bring you certain news from Shrewsbury. North. Good, an heaven will!

:

Bard. As good as heart can wish :The king is almost wounded to the death; And, in the fortune of my lord your son, Prince Harry slain outright; and both the Blunts Kill'd by the hand of Douglas: young prince John, And Westmoreland, and Stafford, fled the field; And Harry Monmouth's brawn, the hulk sir John, Is prisoner to your son: O, such a day, So fought, so follow'd, and so fairly won, Came not, till now, to dignify the times, Since Cæsar's fortunes!

North. How is this deriv'd?

Saw you the field? came you from Shrewsbury? Bard. I spake with one, my lord, that came from thence;

A gentleman well bred, and of good name,
That freely render'd me these news for true.
North. Here comes my servant, Travers, whom

I sent

On Tuesday last to listen after news.

Bard. My lord, I over-rode him on the way; And he is furnish'd with no certainties, More than he haply may retail from me.

Enter TRAVERS.

North. Now, Travers, what good tidings come with you?

Tra. My lord, sir John Umfrevile turn'd me back

With joyful tidings; and, being better hors'd,
Out-rode me. After him, came, spurring hard,
A gentleman almost forespent with speed,
That stopp'd by me to breathe his bloodied horse:
He ask'd the way to Chester; and of him
I did demand, what news from Shrewsbury.
He told me, that rebellion had bad luck,
And that young Harry Percy's spur was cold:
With that, he gave his able horse the head,
And, bending forward, struck his armed heels
Against the panting sides of his poor jade
Up to the rowel-head; and, starting so,
He seem'd in running to devour the way,
Staying no longer question.

North. Ha-Again.

Said he, young Harry Percy's spur was cold?
Of Hotspur, coldspur? that rebellion
Had met ill luck!

Bard. My lord, I'll tell you what ;—
If my young lord your son have not the day,
Upon mine honour, for a silken point
I'll give my barony: never talk of it.

North. Why should the gentleman, that rode by Travers,

Give then such instances of loss?

Bard. Who, he?

He was some hilding fellow, that had stoln

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