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full well:
A gallant knight he was, his name was Blunt;
Semblably furnish’d like the king himself. Douglas

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?

Hotspur The king hath many marching in his coats. Douglas

Now, by my sword, I will kill all his coats;
I’ll murder all his wardrobe, piece by piece,
Until I meet the king.

Hotspur

Up, and away!
Our soldiers stand full fairly for the day. Exeunt.

Alarum. Enter Falstaff, solus. Falstaff Though I could ’scape shot-free at London, I fear the shot here; here’s no scoring but upon the pate. Soft! who are you? Sir Walter Blunt: there’s honour for you! here’s no vanity! I am as hot as moulten lead, and as heavy too: God keep lead out of me! I need no more weight than mine own bowels. I have led my ragamuffins where they are peppered: 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 the Prince. Prince

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 yet unrevenged: I prithee, lend me thy sword.

Falstaff O Hal, I prithee, give me leave to breathe awhile. Turk Gregory never did such deeds in arms as I have done this day. I have paid Percy, I have made him sure. Prince He is, indeed; and living to kill thee. I prithee, lend me thy sword. Falstaff Nay, before God, Hal, if Percy be alive, thou get’st not my sword; but take my pistol, if thou wilt. Prince Give it to me: what, is it in the case? Falstaff Ay, Hal; ’tis hot, ’tis hot; there’s that will sack a city. The Prince draws it out, and finds it to be a bottle of sack. Prince What, is it a time to jest and dally now? He throws the bottle at him. Exit. Falstaff 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 of me. I like not such grinning honour as Sir Walter hath: give me life: which if I can save, so; if not, honour comes unlooked for, and there’s an end. Exit. Scene IV

Another part of the field.

Alarum. Excursions. Enter the King, the Prince, Lord John of Lancaster, and Earl of Westmoreland. King

I prithee,
Harry, withdraw thyself; thou bleed’st too much.
Lord John of Lancaster, go you with him.

Lancaster Not I, my lord, unless I did bleed too. Prince

I beseech your majesty, make up,
Lest your retirement do amaze your friends.

King

I will do so.
My Lord of Westmoreland, lead him to his tent.

Westmoreland Come, my lord, I’ll lead you to your tent. Prince

Lead me, my lord? I do not need your help:
And God 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 triumph in massacres!

Lancaster

We breathe too long: come, cousin Westmoreland,
Our duty this way lies; for God’s sake come. Exeunt Prince John and Westmoreland.

Prince

By God, thou hast deceived me, Lancaster;
I did not think thee lord of such a spirit:
Before, I loved thee as a brother, John;
But now, I do respect thee as my soul.

King

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

Prince

O, this boy
Lends mettle to us all! Exit.

Enter Douglas. Douglas

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?

King

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.

Douglas

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, re-enter Prince of Wales.

Prince

Hold up thy head, vile Scot, or thou art like
Never to hold it up again! the spirits
Of valiant 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.

King

Stay, and breathe awhile:
Thou hast redeem’d thy lost opinion,
And show’d thou makest some tender of my life,
In this fair rescue thou hast brought to me.

Prince

O God! 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 saved the treacherous labour of your son.

King Make up to Clifton: I’ll to Sir Nicholas Gawsey. Exit. Enter Hotspur. Hotspur If I mistake not, thou art Harry Monmouth. Prince Thou speak’st as if I would deny my name. Hotspur My name is Harry Percy. Prince

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.

Hotspur

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!

Prince

I’ll make it greater ere I part from

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