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SCENE VIII. Alarm, excursions. Enter the King, the Prince, Lord

John of Lancaster, and the Earl of Westmorland.

K. Henry. I prythee, Harry, withdraw thyself, thou bleedest too much. Lord John of Lancaster, go you with him.

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

P. Henry. I do befeech your Majesty make up,
Lest 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.
P. Henry. Lead me, my Lord! I do not need your

help ; And Heav'n forbid, a fhallow scratch should drive The Prince of Wales from such a field as this, Where ftain'd Nobility lies trodden on, And rebels' arms triumph in massacres ! [land,

Lan. We breathe too long; come, coufin WeltmorOur duty this way lies; for Heav'n's sake, come.

P.Henry. By Heav'n,thou haft deceiv'd me, Lancaster; I did not think thee lord of fuch a spirit : Before, I lov'd thee as a brother, John ; But now, I do refpe&t thee as my soul.

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

P. Henry. Oh, this boy Lends mettle to us all.

[Exeunt. Manent King Henry. Entér Douglas. Doug. 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'lt the perfon of a King ?

K. Henry. The King himself, who, Douglas, grieves 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 fail'lt on me fo luckily,

[at heart,

I will affail thee: fo defend thyself.

Doug. I fear thou art another counterfeit; And yet, in faith, thou bear't 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 Prince Henry. P. Henry. Hold up thy head, vile Scot, or thou art Never to hold it up again: the spirits

[like 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, Douglas flieth. Chearly, , my Lord; how fares

your

Grace?
Sir Nicholas Gawfey hath for succour sent,
And so hath Clifton : l'll to Clifton strait.

K. Henry. Stay, and breathe a while ;
Thou hast redeem'd my loft opinion,
And shew'd, thou mak'ít some tender of my life,
In this fair rescue thou halt 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 so, I might have let alone Thinsulting hand of Douglas over you ; Which would have been as ipeedy in your end, As all the pois'nous potions in the world, And fav'd the treach'rous labour of your son. K, Henry. Make up to Clifton, I'll to Sir Nicholas Gawfey.

[Exit. SCENE IX. Enter Hot-fpur. Hot. If I mistake not, thou art Harry Monmouth. P. Henry. Thou speak'st as if I would deny my name. Hot. My name is Harry Percy.

P. Henry. Then I see
А
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.
U 2

Hoti

Hot. Nor shall 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. [Fight.

Enter Falstaff. Fal. Well said, Hal; to it, Hal. Nay, you shall find no boys play here, I can tell you. Enter Douglas, he fights with Falstaff, who falls down

as if he were dead. The Prince wounds Percy. Hot. O, Harry, thou host robb'd me of my growth: I better brook the loss of brittle life, Than those proud titles thou hast won of me; [flesh : They wound my thoughts, worse than thy sword my But thought's the slave of life, and life time's fool; And time, that takes survey 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 dust, And food for

[Dies. P. Henry. Worms, brave Percy. Fare thee well! Ill-weav'd ambition, how much art thou shrunk ! When that this body did contain a spirit, A kingdom for it was too small a bound : But now two paces of the vilest earth Is room enough! this earth, that bears thee dead, Bears not alive fo stout 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 myself For doing these fair rites of tenderness. Adieu, and take thy praise with thee to heav'n; Thy ignominy sleep with thee in the grave, But not remember'd in thy epitaph. (He sees Falstaff

. -What! old acquaintance ! could not all this flesh Keep in a little life? poor Jack, farewel! I could have better fpar'd a better man.

Oh,

Oh, I should have a heavy miss of thee,
If I were much in love with vanity.
Death hath not struck so fat a deer to-day,
Though many a dearer in this bloody fray:
Imbowell'd will I see thee by and by ;
Till then, in blood by noble Percy lie. [Exit.
SCENE

Falstaff rises. Fal. Imbowell'd ! if thou imbowel me to-day, I'll give you leave to powder me, and eat meto-morrow! Sblood, 'twas time to counterfeit, or that hot termagant Scot had paid me scot and lot too. Counterfeit? I lye, I am no counterfeit; to die, is to be a counterfeit; for he is but the counter feit 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 discretion; in the which better part I have saved my life. I am afraid of this gun-powder Percy, tho' he be dead. How if he should counterfeit too, and rise? I am afraid he would prove the better counterfeit; therefore I'll make him fure; yea, and I'll swear I killid him. Why may not he rise as well as I ? nothing confutes

eyes, and no body sees me. Therefore, firrah, with a new wound in your thigh come you along with me.

[Takes Hot-Ipur on his back. SCENE Enter Prince Henry, and John of Lancaster. P. Henry. Come, brother John, full bravely hast Thy maiden sword.

[thou fleih'd Lan. But soft! whom have we here? Did you not tell me this fat man was dead ?

P. Henry. I did; I saw hiin dead,
And breathless on the ground. Art thou alive,
Or is it fancy plays upon our eye-fight?
I

pr’ythee, speak, we will not trust our eyes Without our ears : thou art not what thou seem'st.

Fal. No, that's certain ; I am not a double man ; but if I am not Jack Faltaff, then am I a Jack. There is Percy : if your father will do me any honour, so; if

not,

me but

XI.

not, let him kill the next Percy himself. I look either to be Earl or Duke, I can assure

you. P. Henry. Why, Percy 1 kill'd myself, and saw thee dead.

Fal. Did'st thou? Lord, Lord, how the world is giv'n to lying! I grant you, I was down, and out of breath, and so was he; but we rose both at an instant, and fought a long hour by Shrewsbury clock : if I may be believed, so; if not, let them that should reward yalour, bear the sin upon their own heads. I'll take't on my death, I gave him this wound in the thigh: if the man were alive, and would deny it, I would make him him eat a piece of my

sword. Lan. This is the strangest tale that e'er I heard.

P. Henry. This is the itrangest fellow, brother John. Come, bring your luggage nobly on your back: For my part, if a lye may do thee grace, I'll gild it with the happielt terms I have.

[ A retreat is founded. The trumpets found retreat, the day is ours : Come, brother, let's to th' higheit of the field, To see what friends are living, who are dead.

[Exeunt. Fal. I'll follow, as they say, for reward. He that rewards me, Heav'n reward him ! If I do grow great,

less ; for I'll purge, and leave fack, and live cleanly, as a nobleman should do.

[Exit.

I'll grow

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The trumpets found. Enter King Henry, Prince of

Wales, Lord John of Lancaiter, Earl of Westmore land, with Worcelter and Vernon prisoners.

K. Henry. Thus ever did rebellion find rebuke.
Jll-spirited Wor’ster, did we not send grace,
Pardon, and terms of love to all of you ?
And would'st thou turn our offers contrary?
Misuse the tenor of thy kinsman's trust ?
Three Knights upon our party flain to-day,
A Noble Earl, and many a creature else,
Had been alive this hour,
lf like a Christian thou hadīt truly borne.

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