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. 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 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 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. P. Hen. Lead me, my lord? I do not need your help: And heaven forbid, a shallow scratch should drive P. John. We breathe too long:-Come, cousin 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. 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? So many of his shadows thou hast met, 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 That ever said, I hearken'd for your death. 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 Ill-weav'd ambition, how much art thou shrunk! Bears not alive so stout a gentleman. He sees Falstaff on the ground 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 Come, bring your luggage nobly on your back: [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? If, like a christian, thou hadst truly borne Wor. What I have done, my safety urg'd me to; 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, I K. Hen. With all my heart. P. Hen. Then, brother John of Lancaster, to 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, To fight with Glendower, and the earl of March. [Exeunt. VOL. I. 21 Is thought with child by the stern tyrant war, That the blunt monster with uncounted heads, 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. Bard. Who keeps the gate here, ho?-Where is the earl? Port. What shall I say you are? 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: 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, 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, North. Ha-Again. Said he, young Harry Percy's spur was cold? Bard. My lord, I'll tell you what ;— 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 |