Ver. 'Twere best he did.
Wor.

Then are we all undone.
It is not possible, it cannot be,
The king should keep his word in loving us ;
He will suspect us still, and find a time
To punish this offence in other faults :
Suspicion shall be all stuck full of eyes :
For treason is but trusted like the fox;
Who, ne'er so tame, so cherish’d, and lock'd

up, Will have a wild trick of his ancestors. Look how we can, or sad, or merrily, Interpretation will misquote our looks ; And we shall feed like oxen at a stall, The better cherish'd, still the nearer death.. My nephew's trespass may be well forgot, It hath the excuse of youth, and heat of blood; And an adopted name of privilege, A hare-brain'd Hotspur, govern'd by a spleen : All his offences live upon my head, And on his father's;- we did train him on; And, his corruption being ta'en from us, We, as the spring of all, shall pay for all. Therefore, good cousin, let not Harry know, In any case, the offer of the king.

Ver. Deliver what you will, I'll say, 'tis so. Here comes your cousin.

Deliver up

Enter HOTSPUR and DOUGLAS; and Officers and

Soldiers, behind. Hot. My uncle is return'd: My lord of Westmoreland. - Uncle, what news ?

Wor. The king.will bid you battle presently. Doug. Defy him by the lord of Westmoreland. Hot. Lord Douglas, go you and tell him so. Doug, Marry, and shall, and very willingly.

[Exit. Wor. There is no secming 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 forswearing that he is forsworn :
He calls us rebels, traitors; and will scourge
With haughty arms this hateful name in us.

Re-enter DOUGLAS.
Doug. Arm, gentlemen; to arms! for I have

thrown
A brave defiance in King Henry's teeth,
And Westmoreland, that was engag'd, did bear it;
Which cannot choose but bring him quickly on.
Wor. The prince of Wales stepp'd forth before

the king, And, nephew, challeng'd you to single fight.

Hot. O, 'would the quarrel lay upon our heads i And that no man might draw short breath to-day, But I, and Harry Monmouth! Tell me, tell me, How show'd his talking ? seem'd it in contempt? Ver. No, by my soul ; I never in my

life Did hear a challenge urg'd more modestly, Unless a brother should a brother dare To gentle exercise and proof of arms. He gave you

all the duties of a man ; Trimm'd up your praises with a princely tongue; Spoke your deservings like a chronicle; Making you ever better than his praise, By still dispraising praise, valued with you : And, which became him like a prince indeed, He made a blushing cital of himself; And chid his truant youth with such a grace, As if he master'd there a double spirit, Of teaching, and of learning, instantly. There did he pause : But let me tell the world, If he outlive the envy of this day, England did never owe? so sweet a hope, So much misconstrued in his wantonness.

Hot. Cousin, I think, thou art enamoured
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 soldier's arm,
That he shall shrink under my courtesy.
Arm, arm, with speed :-ånd, fellows, soldiers,

friends,
Better consider what you have to do,
Than I, that have not well the gift of tongue,
Can lift your blood up with persuasion.

Enter a Messenger.
Mess. My lord, here are letters for you.

Hot. I cannot read them now..
O gentlemen, the time of life is short;
To spend that shortness basely, were too long,
If life did ride upon a dial's point,
Still ending at the arrival of an hour.
An if we live, we live to tread on kings;
If die, brave death, when princes die with us!
Now for our conscience, - the arms are fair,
When the intent of bearing them is just.

Enter another Messenger.
Mess. My lord, prepare; the king comes on apace.

Hot. I thank him, that he cuts me from my tale,
For I profess not talking; Only this
Let each man do his best: and here draw I
A sword, whose temper I intend to stain
With the best blood that I can meet withal
In the adventure of this perilous day.
Now, Esperance"!-- Percy! — and set on.-
Sound all the lofty instruments of war,
And by that musick let us all embrace :

8 The motto of the Percy family.

For, heaven to earth, some of us never shall
A second time do such a courtesy.

[The Trumpets sound. They embrace, and exeunt.

SCENE III.

Plain near Shrewsbury.

Excursions, and Parties fighting. Alarum to the

Battle. Then enter DOUGLAS and BLUNT, meeting Blunt. What is thy name, that in the battle thus Thou crossest me? what honour dost thou seek Upon my head ?

Doug 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.
Doug. The lord of Stafford dear to-day hath

bought
Thy likeness; for, instead of thee, king Harry,
This sword hath ended him: so shall it thee,
Unless thou yield thee as my prisoner.

Blunt. I was not born a yielder, thou proud Scot;
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.

Doug. All's done, all's won; here breathless lies

the king.

Hot. Where? Doug. Here.

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 ?

Hit. The king hath many marching in his coats.

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

Up, and

away ; Our soldiers stand full fairly for the day. (Exeunt.

the pate.

Other Alarums. Enter FALSTAFF. Fal. Though I could 'scape shot-free at London, I fear the shot here; here's no scoring, but upon

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: heaven 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 Under the hoofs of vaunting enemies, Whose deaths are unreveng’d: Pr’ythee, lend th

sword. Fal. O Hal, I pr’ythee, give me leave to breathe a while. — Turk Gregory never did such deeds in