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Alarm, excurfions. Enter the King, the Prince, Lord John of Lancafter, and the Earl of Weftmorland.

K. Henry. I pr'ythee, Harry, withdraw thyself, thou bleedeft 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 Majefty make up,
Left 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 feratch 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 !

[land,

Lan. We breathe too long; come, coufin Weftmor

Our duty this way lies; for Heav'n's fake, come.
P.Henry. By Heav'n,thou haft deceiv'd me, Lancafter;
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. 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.

Manent King Henry. Enter Douglas.

[Exeunt.

Doug. Another King? they grow, like Hydra's heads: I am the Douglas, fatal to all those

That wear thofe colours on them. What art thou,
That counterfeit'ft the perfon of a King?

[at heart,.

K. Henry. The King himfelf, who, Douglas, grieves So many of his fhadows thou haft met, And not the very King. I have two boys Seek Percy and thyself about the field; But feeing thou fall'ft on me fo luckily,

I will affail thee: fo defend thyself.

Doug. I fear thou art another counterfeit ; And yet, in faith, thou bear'st 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 dangers

Enter Prince Henry.

[like

P. Henry. Hold up thy head, vile Scot, or thou art Never to hold it up again: the fpirits Of Sherly, Stafford, lunt, are in my arms; It is the Prince of Wales that threatens thee, Who never promifeth, but means to pay.

[They fight, Douglas 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 opinion,

And fhew'd, thou mak'st some tender of my life,
In this fair rescue thou hast 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 Douglas 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.

A

SCENE IX. Enter Hot-fpur.

[Exit.

Hot. If I mistake not, thou art Harry Monmouth. P. Henry. Thou fpeak'ft as if I would deny 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 fhare with me in glory any more:

Two ftars 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

Hote

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 Falstaff.

[Fight.

Fal. Well faid, Hal'; to it, Hal. Nay, you fhall 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 hoft robb'd me of my growth: I better brook the lofs of brittle life,

Than thofe proud titles thou haft won of me; [flesh:
They wound my thoughts, worse than thy fword my
But thought's the flave of life, and life time's fool;
And time, that takes furvey of all the world,
Muft have a stop. O, I could prophefy,
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 shrunk! When that this body did contain a fpirit,

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

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

If thou wert fenfible of courtesy,

I fhould not make fo great a fhow 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 fleep with thee in the grave,

But not remember'd in thy epitaph. [He fees 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 mifs 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 fee thee by and by;

Till then, in blood by noble Percy lie.

SCENE

Fal. Imbowell'd!

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[Exit.

if thou imbowel me to-day, 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 lye, 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, tho' 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.

SCEN E XI.

Enter Prince Henry, and John of Lancaster.

P. Henry. Come, brother John, full bravely haft Thy maiden fword.

Lan. But foft! whom have we here?

[thou flefh'd

Did you not tell me this fat man was dead?

P. Henry. I did; I faw him dead,

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

not,

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

P. Henry. Why, Percy I kill'd myself, and faw thee dead.

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

back:

Lan. This is the ftrangeft tale that e'er I heard. P. Henry. This is the strangest fellow, brother John. Come, bring your luggage nobly on your For my part, if a lye may do thee grace, I'll gild it with the happiest terms I have.

[A retreat is founded.

The trumpets found retreat, the day is ours:
Come, brother, let's to th' higheft of the field,
To fee what friends are living, who are dead.

[Exeunt.

Fal. I'll follow, as they fay, for reward. He that rewards me, Heav'n reward him! If I do grow great, I'll grow lefs; for I'll purge, and leave fack, and live cleanly, as a nobleman fhould do. [Exit.

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The trumpets found. Enter King Henry, Prince of Wales, Lord John of Lancafter, Earl of Westmorland, with Worcester and Vernon prisoners.

K. Henry. Thus ever did rebellion find rebuke.
JIl-fpirited Wor'fter, did we not fend grace,
Pardon, and terms of love to all of you?
And would't thou turn our offers contrary?
Mifufe the tenor of thy kinfman's trust ?
Three Knights upon our party flain to-day,
A Noble Earl, and many a creature else,
Had been alive this hour,

If like a Chriftian thou hadft truly borne.

Betwixt

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