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Wor. The King will bid you Battel presently.
Wor. The Prince of Wales ítept forth before the King, And, Nephew, challeng'd you to single Fight.
Hot. O, would the Quarrel lay upon our Heads,
Ver. No by my Soul: I never in my Life
Hot. Cousin, I think thou art enamoured
Enter a Mesenger.
Hot. I cannot read them now.
Tho'Life did ride upon a Dial's Point,
Enter another Messenger.
Hot. I thank him, that he cuts' me from my Tale,
They embrace, then Exeunt. The Trumpets found, the
enter Dowglass and Sir Walter Blunt. Blunt. What is thy Name, that in Batcel thus thou crosfest What Honour dost thou setk upon my Head?
Dow. Know then, my Name is Dowglass, And I do haunt thee in the Battel thus, o Because some tell me, that thou art a King.
To the Acerance, Letafrumenal embracer Thalls
(me? Blunt. They tell thee true.
Dow. The Lord of Stafford dear to Day hath bought,
Blunt. I was not born to yield, thou haughty Scot,
Figbt, Blunt is pain, then enter Hot-spur.
Dow. All's done, all's won, here breathless lyes the King.
Hot. This, Dowglafs? No, I know this Face full well:
Dow. Ah! Fool go with thy Soul whither it goes,
Hot. The King hath many marching in his Coats.
Dow. Now by my Sword, I will kill all his Coats,
Hot. Up and awqYi fairly for the Proins.
Our Sold ers stand full fairly for the Day [Exeunt.
Alarm, enter Falstaff folus. 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 moulten Lead, and as heavy too: Heav'o 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; thre's not three of my hundred and fifty left alive, and they for the Towns end to beg during Life. But who comes here?
Enter Prince Henry. P. Henry. What stand'stihou idle here? lend me thy Sword, Many a noble Man lyes ftark and stiff Under the Hoofs of vaunting Enemies, Whose Deaths are unreveng'd. Prithee lend me thy Sword.
I priche nay, Halow'Pistol if thou is it in this fack a Citysacks
Swof. Henry. Mal, tis hotrive Prince dr want and delim
Fal. O Hal, I prithee give me leave to breath 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. Henry. He is indeed, and living to kill thee: I prithee lend me thy Sword.
Fal. Nay, Hal, if Percy be alive, thou get'st
P. Henry. Give it me: What, is it in the Cases
: [The Prince draws out a Bottle of Sack. P. Henry. What, is it a time to jest 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, so; if he do not, if I come in his, willingly, let him make a Carboriado of me. I like not such grinning Honour as Sir Walter hath : Give me Life, which if I can save, fu; if not, Honour comes unlook'd for, and there's an end.
SCENE III. Alarm, Excursions, Enter the King, the Prince, Lord John
. of Lancaster, and the Earl of Westmorland. · K. Henry. I prithee, Harry, withdraw thy self, thou bleed. eft too much: Lord John of Lancaster, go you with him.
Lan. Nor I, my Lord, unless I did bleed too.
P. Henry. I bef:ech your Majesty make up,
K. Henry. I will do sy:
West. Come my Lord, I'll lead you to your Tent.
P. Henry. Lead me, my Lord! I do not need your Help, And Heay’n forbid a shallow Scratch should drive The Prince of Wales from such a Field as this, Where ftain'd Nobility lyes trodden on,
And Rebels Arms triumph in Massacres. . Lan. We breath too long; come Coufin Westworland, Our Duty this Way lyes, for Heav'ns fake come.
P. Henry. By Heav'n thou hast deceiv'd me, Lancaster, I did not chink thee Lord of such a Spirit:
That country. The Kinows thou halt Wo Boys
Before, I lov'd thee as a Brother, John;
K. Henry. I saw him hold Lord Percy at the Point,
Enter Dowglass. Dew. Another King? They grow like Hydra's Heads: I am the Dowglass fatal to all those That wear thole Colours on them. What art thou That counterfeit'st the Person of a King ?
K. Henry. The King himself; who, Dowglass, grieves at So many of his Shadows thou hast met,
Heart And not the very King. I have two Boys Seek Percy and thy self about the Field; But seeing thou fall'st on me so luckily I will aslay thee: So defend thy self.
Dow, I fear thou art another Counterfeit; And yet in faith thou bear'lt thee like a King: But mine I am sure thou art, who e'er thou be, And thus I win thee. [They fighı: The King being in Danger,
Exter Prince Henry. P. Henry. Hold up thy Head, vile Scot, or thou art like Never to hold it up again: The Spirits Of valiant Sherly, Stafford, Blunt, are in my Arms; It is the Prince of Wales that threats thee, Who never promiseth, but means to pay,
[They fight, Dowglass flyeth.
P. Henry, O Heav'n, they did too much Injur