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Wor. There is no seeming mercy in the king.
Wor. I told him gently of our grievances,
Hot. O, would the quarrel lay upon our heads ; 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
Trimm'd up your praises with a princely tongue;
Hot. Cousin, I think thou art enamoured
Enter Earl of 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;
Hot. Arm, árm with speed !
Enter RABY. Rab. 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. Sound all the lofty instruments of war, And by that music let us all embrace: For, heaven to earth, some of us never shall A second time do such a courtesy,
(The drums, trumpets, &c. sound. They embrace. Now,— Esperanza !-Percy !—and set on. Trumpets, Druns, &c.
[Exeunt. , SCENE III. The Field of Battle near Shrewsbury.
Alarums. Enter Earl of Douglas, and Sir Walter BLUNT.
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.
Doúg. 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,
Alarums.—They fight.—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. Up, and away; Our soldiers stand full fairly for the day.
Alarums. [Exeunt Hotspur and DOUGLAS,
Enter FALSTAFF. Fal. Though I could 'scape shot-free at London, I fear the shot here; here's no scoring, but upon the pate.--Soft! who art thou? Sir Walter Blunt; there's honour for you : Here's no vanity !-I am as hot as molten lead, -Heaven keep lead out of me! I need no more weight than mine own bowels. I have led my raggamụffins where they are pepper'd: 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 HENRY, Prince of Wales, with his sword
broken. 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: lend me thy sword.
Fal. O Hal, I pr’ythee, give me leave to breathe a while.--Turk Gregory never did such deeds in arms, as I have done this day. I have paid Percy, I have made him sure.
P. Hen. He is, indeed ; and living to kill thee. I pr’ythee, lend me thy sword.
Fal. Nay, Hal, if Percy be alive, thou get'st not my sword; but take my pistol, if thou wilt.
P. Hen. Give it me: what, is it in the case ?
Fal. Ay, Hal; 't is hot, 't is hot; there's that will sack a city.
[The Prince draws out a bottle of sack.] P. Hen. What, is it a time to jest and daily now?
[The Prince 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 such grinning honour as sir Walter hath : give me life; which if I can save, so; if not, honour comes unlook'd for, and there's an end. Alarums.
[Exit. SCENE IV. Another Part of the Field of Battle. Alarums. Excursions. Enter HENRY, Prince of
WALES, and HOTSPUR.
P. Hen. Why, then I see
I am the prince of Wales ; and think not, Percy,
Þ. Hen. I 'll make it greater, ere I part from thee;
head. Hot. I can no longer brook thy vanities.
[They fight. Enter FALSTAFF. Fal. Well said, Hal! to it, Hal !--Nay, you shall find no boy's play here, I can tell you. Enter Earl of DouGLAS; he strikes at FALSTAFF, who
falls down, as if he were dead.-Exit Douglas. Percy is wounded, and falls. Hot. O, Harry, thou hast robb'd me of
my youth :
[Hotspur dies. P. Hen. For worms, brave Percy: Fare thee well,
Is room enough :- This earth, that bears thee dead, - Bears not alive so stout a gentleman. Adieu, and take thy praise with thee to heaven!