Dow. Marry, I fhall; and very willingly.

[Exit Dowglas. Wor. There is no feeming mercy in the King. Hot. Did you beg any? God forbid ! Wor. I told him gently of our grievances, Of his oath-breaking; which he mended thus, By now forfwearing that he is forfworn. He calls us rebels, traitors, and will fcourge With haughty arms this hateful name in us. Enter Dowglas.

Dow. Arm, gentlemen, to arms; for I have thrown A brave defiance in King Henry's teeth :

And Weftmorland, that was ingag'd, did bear it;
Which cannot chufe but bring him quickly on.

Wor. The Prince of Wales ftept forth before the King, And, Nephew, challeng'd you to fingle fight.

Hot. O, would the quarrel lay upon our heads,
And that no man might draw short breath to day,
But I and Harry Monmouth! Tell me, tell me,
How fhew'd his talking? feem'd it in contempt ?
Ver. No, by my foul: I never in my life
Did hear a challenge urg'd more modeftly,
Unless a brother fhould a brother dare,
To gentle exercise and proof of arms.
He gave you all the duties of a man,
Trim'd up your praises with a princely tongue,
Spoke your defervings like a chronicle,
Making you ever better than his Praife:
By ftill difpraifing Praife, valued with You.
And, which became him like a Prince indeed,
He made a blufhing cital of himself,
And chid his truant youth with fuch a grace,
As if he master'd there a double fpirit,
Of teaching, and of learning, inftantly.
There did he paufe; But let me tell the world,
If he out-live the envy of this day,
England did never owe fo fweet a hope,
So much mifconflrued in his wantonnefs.
Hot. Coufin, I think, thou art enamoured
H 2

Upon

Upon his Follies; never did I hear
Of any Prince, so wild, at liberty.
But be he as he will, yet once ere night,
I will embrace him with a foldier's arm,
That he shall fhrink under my courtefie.

Arm, arm with speed. And fellows, foldiers, friends,
Better confider what you have to do,

Than I, that have not well the gift of tongue,
Can lift your blood up with perfuafion.
Enter a Messenger.

Me. My lord, here are letters for you.
Hot. I cannot read them now.

O Gentlemen, the time of life is short:
To spend that shortnefs bafely were too long,
Tho' life did ride upon a dial's point,
Still ending at th' arrival of an hour.

And if we live, we live to tread on Kings:
If die; brave death, when Princes die with us!
Now, for our confciences, the arms are fair,
When the intent for bearing them is juft.

Enter another Messenger.

Me. My lord, prepare, the King comes on apace.
Hot. I thank him, that he cuts me from my tale,
For I profefs not talking: only this,

Let each man do his best. And here draw I
A fword, whose temper I intend to stain
With the best blood that I can meet withal,
In the adventure of this perilous day.
Now, Esperanza! Percy! and fet on:
Sound all the lofty Inftruments of war;
And by that mufick let us all embrace :
For (heav'n to earth) fome of us never shall
A fecond time do fuch a courtefie.

[They embrace, then exeunt. The Trumpets found. The King entreth with his Power; Alarm to the battle. Then enter Dowglas, and Sir Walter Blunt.

Blun. What is thy name, that thus in battle croffeft me?

What

What honour doft thou seek upon my

head?

Dow. Know then, my name is Douglas,

And I do haunt thee in the battle thus,
Because some tell me that thou art a King.
Blunt. They tell thee true.

Dow. The lord of Stafford dear to day hath bought Thy likeness; for instead of thee, King Harry, This fword hath ended him; fo fhall it thee, Unless thou yield thee as my prisoner.

Blunt. I was not born to yield, thou haughty Scot, And thou shalt find a King that will revenge Lord Stafford's death.

Fight, Blunt is flain: then enter Hot-fpur.

Hot. O Douglas, hadit thou fought at Holmedon thus, I never had triumphed o'er a Scot.

Dow. All's done, all's won, here breathlefs lies the King. Hot. Where?

Dow. Here.

Hot. This, Dowglas? no: Iknow his face full well: A gallant Knight he was, his name was Blunt, Semblably furnish'd like the King himself.

Dow. Ah! fool go with thy foul, whither it goes! A borrow'd title haft thou bought too dear. Why didst thou tell me that thou wert a King? Hot. The King hath many marching in his coats. Dow. Now by my fword, I will kill all his coats; I'll murther all his wardrobe piece by piece,

Until I meet the King.

Hot. Up and away,

Our foldiers ftand full fairly for the day.

Alarm, enter Falstaff Solus.

[Exeunt.

Fal. Though I could 'fcape fhot-free at London, I fear the fhot here: here's no fcoring, 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 moulten lead, and as heavy too: heav'n keep lead out of me, I need no more weight than mine own bowels! I have led my rag-o-muffians where they are pepper'd: there's not

H 3

three

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. Henry. What, ftand'st thou idle here? lend me thy fword;

Many a noble man lies ftark and stiff

Under the hoofs of vaunting enemies ;

Whose deaths are unreveng'd. Lend me thy fword.

Fal. O Hal, I pr'ythee, give me leave to breathe a while. Turk Gregory never did fuch deeds in arms, as I have done this day. I have paid Percy, I have made

him fure.

P. Henry. He is, indeed, and living to kill thee: I pr'thee, lend me thy fword.

Fal. Nay, Hal, if Percy be alive, thou get'ft not my fword but take my piftol, if thou wilt.

P. Henry. Give it me: what, is it in the cafe?

Fal. Ay, Hal, 'tis hot. There's that will fack a city. [The Prince draws out a bottle of fack. P. Henry What, is it a time to jeft and dally now?

]Throws it at him, and Exit. Fal. If Percy be alive, I'll pierce him; if he do come in my way, fo; if he do not, if I come in his, willingly, let him make a carbonado of me. I like not fuch gring honour as Sir Walter hath give me life, which if I can fave, fo; if not, honour comes unlook'd for, and there's an end.

T

[Exit,

Alarum, Excurfions. Enter the King, the Prince, Lord John of Lancaster, and the Earl of Westmorland.

K. Henry. I pr'ythee, Harry, withdraw thy felf, thou bleedeft too much: Lord John of Lancaster, go you with him.

Lan. Not I, my lord, unless I did bleed too.
P. Henry. I do befeech your Majefty make up,
Left your retirement do amaze your friends.
K Henry. I will do fo :

My lord of Weftmorland, lead him to his Tent.

Weft.

Weft. Come, my lord, I'll lead you to your Tent.

P. Henry. Lead me, my lord! I do not need your help; And heav'n forbid, a fhallow fcratch fhould drive The Prince of Wales from fuch a field as this, Where ftain'd Nobility lies trodden on, And Rebels arms triumph in maffacres!

Lan. We breathe too long; come, coufin Westmorland, Our duty this way lies; for heav'n's fake, come.

P. Henry. By heav'n, thou haft deceiv'd me, Lancaster, I did not think thee lord of fuch a spirit: Before, I lov'd thee as a brother, John; But now, I do refpect thee as my foul.

K. Henry: I faw him hold lord Percy at the point, With luftier maintenance than I did look for Of fuch an ungrown warrior.

P. Henry. Oh, this boy

Lends mettle to us all.

Manet King Henry. Enter Dowglas.

[Exeunt.

Dow. Another King? they grow, like Hydra's heads: I am the Douglas, fatal to all thofe

That wear thofe colours on them.

What art thou,

That counterfeit'it the perfon of a King?

K. Henry. The King himself, who, Douglas, grieves

at heart,

So many of his fhadows thou haft met,
And not the very King. I have two boys
Seek Percy and thy felf about the field;
But feeing thou fall'ft on me fo luckily,
I will affay thee: fo defend thy felf.

Dow. I fear, thou art another counterfeit ;
And yet, in faith, thou bear'ft thee like a King:
But mine, I'm fure, thou art, whoe'er thou be,
And thus I win thee.

[They fight: the King being in danger. Enter Prince Henry.

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

like

Never to hold it up again the Spirits