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Fal. Ay, Hal, 'tis hot. There's that will fack a city. [The Prince drau's 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, so; 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. [Exit.

SCENE

GENE

VIII

Alarum, Excurfions. Enter the King, the Prince, Lord John of Lancaster, and the Earl of Weftmorland. K. Henry. Prythee, Harry, withdraw thyself, thou bleedeft too much: Lord John of Lancafter, 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:

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My lord of Westmorland, lead him to his Tent.
Weft. Come, my lord, I'll lead you to your Tent.
P.Henry. Lead me, my lord! I do not need your
help; I

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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 breath too long; come, cousin Weftmorland

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Our duty this way lies; for heav'n's 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:

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 counterfeit'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 thyself.

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

[They fight the King being in danger.

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

like

Never to hold it up again: the Spirits
Of Sherly, Stafford, Blunt, are in my arms;
It is the Prince of Wales that threatens thee,
Who never promiseth, but means to pay.

[They fight, Dowglas flieth.
Chearly, my lord how fares your Grace??
Sir Nicholas Gawfey hath for fuccour fent,
And fo hath Clifton: I'll to Clifton ftrait.
K. Henry. Stay, and breathe a while;
Thou haft redeem'd my loft opinon,

And

And fhew'd, thou mak'ft some tender of my life,
In this fair rescue thou haft brought to me.

P. Henry. O heav'n! they did me too much injury,
That ever faid, I hearken'd for your death.
If it were fo, I might have let alone

Th' infulting hand of Dowglas over you;
Which would have been as speedy in your end,
As all the pois'nous potions in the world,
And fav'd the treach'rous labour of your fon.
K. Henry. Make up to Clifton, I'll to Sir Nicholas
Gawfey.

Hot.

A

SCENE IX.

Enter Hot-spur.

[Exit.

F I mistake not, thou art Harry Monmouth.
P. Henry. Thou speak'st as if I would deny

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my name.

Hot. My name is Harry Percy.

P. Henry. Then I fee

very valiant Rebel of that 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.

Hot. Nor fhall it, Harry, for the hour is come
To end the one of us; and would to heav'n,
Thy name in arms were now as great as mine!:
P. Henry. I'll make it greater, ere I part from thee;
And all the budding honours on thy creft
I'll crop, to make a garland for my head.
Hot. I can no longer brook thy vanities,

Enter Falftaff.

[Fight.

Fal. Well faid, Hal; to it, Hal. Nay, you fhall

find no boy's play here, I can tell you.

Enter

Enter Dowglas, he fights with Falstaff, who falls down as if he were dead. The Prince kills Percy.

Hot. O, Harry, thou haft robb'd me of my youth: I better brook the lafs of brittle life,

L

Than those proud Titles thou haft won of me;
They wound my thoughts, worse than thy, sword my
flesh :

But thought's the flave of life, and life time's fool;
And time, that takes furvey of all the world,
Must have a stop. O, I could prophesy,
But that the earthy and cold hand of death,
Lies on my tongue: no, Percy, thou art duft,
And food for- -

[Dies.

P. Henry. Worms, brave Percy. Fare thee well! Ill-weav'd ambition, how much art thou fhrunk! When that this body did contain a spirit,

A Kingdom for it was too fmall a bound:
But now two paces of the vileft earth

Is room enough! this earth, that bares thee dead,
Bears not alive fo ftout a gentleman.

If thou wert fenfible of courtesy,

I should not make so great a show of zeal.
But let my favour hide thy mangled face,
And, ev'n in thy behalf, I'll thank myfelf
For doing these fair Rites of tenderness.
Adieu, and take thy praife with thee to heav'n;
Thy ignominy fleep with thee in the Grave,
But not remember'd in thy epitaph. [He fees Falftaff.
-What! old acquaintance! could not all this flefh
Keep in a little life? poor Jack, farewel!
I could have better spar'd a better man.
Oh, I fhould have a heavy miss of thee,
If I were much in love with Vanity.
Death hath not ftruck so fat a Deer to-day,
Though many a dearer in this bloody fray:
Imbowell'd will I fee thee by and by,
Till then, in blood by noble Percy lie.

[Exit. SCENE

Fal.

IM

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MBOWELL'D !-if thou imbowel me today, I'll give you leave to powder me, and eat me to-morrow! 'Sblood, 'twas time to counterfeit, or that hot termagant Scot had paid me fcot and lot too. Counterfeit? I lie, I am no counterfeit; to die, is to be a counterfeit; for he is but the counterfeit of a man, who hath not the life of a man: but to counterfeit dying, when a man thereby liveth, is to be no counterfeit, but the true and perfect image of life, indeed. The better part of valour is difcretion; in the which better part, I have faved my life. I am afraid of this gun-powder Percy, though he be dead. How if he fhould counterfeit too, and rife? I am afraid, he would prove the better counterfeit; therefore I'll make him fure; yea, and I'll fwear, I kill'd him. Why may not he rife as well as I? nothing confutes me but eyes, and no body fees me. Therefore, firrah, with a new wound in your thigh come you along with me. [Takes Hot-fpur on his back.

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Enter Prince Henry, and John of Lancaster.

P. Henry. COME, brother John, full bravely haft

Thy maiden fword.

thou flesht

Lan. But foft! whom have we here?

Did you not tell me, this fat man was dead?
P. Henry I did, I faw him dead,

And breathless on the ground: art thou alive,
Or is it fancy plays upon our eye-fight?

I

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