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Enter another Messenger.

Mel. 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, whofe temper I intend to stain
With the best blood that I can meet withal,
In the adventure of this perilous day.

3

Now, Efperanza! 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 fhall
A fecond time do fuch a courtefie.

[They embrace, then exeunt. The Trumpets found.

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The King entereth with his power: Alarm to the Battle. Then enter Dowglas, and Sir Walter Blunt.

Blunt. What is thy name, that thus in battle cros-> feft me?

What honour doft thou feek upon my head?

Dowg. Know then, my name is Dowglas, And I do haunt thee in the battle thus, Because fome tell me that thou art a King. Blunt. They tell me true.

Dawg. 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 prifoner.

Blunt. I was not born to yield, thou haughty Scot,

3 Now, Efperanza!-] This 4 For (heav'n to earth)-] was the word of battle on Percy's i. e. one might wager heaven to fide. See Halls Chronicle, fo- earth. WARBURTON. POPE.

lio 22.

And

And thou fhalt find a King that will revenge
Lord Stafford's death.

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

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

Dowg. All's done, all's won, here breathlefs lies the King.

Hot. Where?
Dowg. Here.

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

Doug. 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. Dowg. 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 foldier stand full fairly for the day.

SCENE VII.

Alarm, enter Falstaff folus.

[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

$ Shot free at London.] A play upon foot, as it means the part of a reckoning, and a miffive weapon difcharged from artillery.

here's no vanity!] In our author's time the negative, in

lead,

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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 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'ft thou idle here? lend me thy fword;

Many a noble man lies ftark and stiff

Under the hoofs of vaunting enemies;

Whofe 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.

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

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hiftory, had made this Gregory fo odious, that I don't doubt but the good protestants of that time were well pleased to hear him thus characterised, as uniting the attributes of their two great enemies, the Turk and Pope, in one. WARBURTON. I have paid Percy, I have made him fure.

P. Henry. He is, indeed, and, &c.] The Prince's Answer, which is apparently connected with Falftaff's laft words, does not cohere fo well as if the knight had faid,

I have made him fure; Percy's safe enough. Perhaps a word or two like these may be loft.

Fal.

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

P. Henry. Give it me.

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What, is it in the cafe? Fal. Ay, Hal, 'tis hot. There's that will fack a city. [The Prince draws it out, and finds it 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 grinning 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.

*

SCENE VIII.

[Exit.

Alarm, Excurfions. Enter the King, the Prince, Lord John of Lancaster, and the Earl of Weftmoreland.

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

Lan. Not I, my lord, unless I did bleed too.

P. Henry. I do befeech your Majesty make up,
Left your retirement do amaze your friends.
K. Henry. I will do fo.

My lord of Westmorland, lead him to his Tent..
Weft. Come, my lord, I'll lead you to your Tent.

9 If Percy be alive, I'LL pierce him ;] Certainly, HE'LL pierce him, i. e. Prince Henry will, who is juft gone out to feek him. Befides, I'll pierce him, contradicts the whole turn and humour of the speech. WARBURTON.

I rather take the conceit to be this. To pierce a veffel is to tap it. Falstaff takes up his bottle

which the Prince had toffed at his
head, and being about to ani-
mate himfelf with a draught,
cries, if Percy be alive I'll pierce
him, and fo draws the cork.
do not propose this with much
confidence.

I

* A carbonado is a piece of meat cut crofwife for the gridiron.

P. Henry.

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 Weftmorland,

Our duty this way lies; for heav'ns fake, come.
P. Henry. By heav'n, thou haft deceiv'd me, Lan-
cafter,

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.

Dowg. Another King? they grow, like Hydra's heads. I am the Dowglas, fatal to all thofe

That wear thofe colours on them. What art thou, That conterfeit'ft the person of a King?

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

at heart,.

So many of his fhadows thou haft met,

And not the very King. I have two boys
Seek Percy and thyfelf about the field;
But feeing thou fall'ft on me fo luckily,
I will affay thee; fo defend thyfelf.

Dowg. 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

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