Can lift your blood vp with perswasion.
Enter a Messenger.
Mes.
My Lord, heere are Letters for you.
Hot.
I cannot reade them now.
O Gentlemen, the time of life is short;
To spend that shortnesse basely, were too long.
If life did ride vpon a Dials point,
Still ending at the arriuall of an houre,
And if we liue, we liue to treade on Kings:
If dye; braue death, when Princes dye with vs.
Now for our Consciences, the Armes is faire,
When the intent for bearing them is iust.
Enter another Messenger.
Mes.
My Lord prepare, the King comes on apace.
Hot.
I thanke him, that he cuts me from my tale:
For I professe not talking: Onely this,
Let each man do his best. And heere I draw a Sword,
Whose worthy temper I intend to staine
With the best blood that I can meete withall,
In the aduenture of this perillous day.
Now Esperance Percy, and set on:
Sound all the lofty Instruments of Warre,
And by that Musicke, let vs all imbrace:
For heauen to earth, some of vs neuer shall,
A second time do such a curtesie.
They embrace, the trumpets sound, the King entereth
with his power, alarum vnto the battell. Then enter
Dowglas, and Sir Walter Blunt.
Blu.
What is thy name, that in battel thus thou crossest me?
What honor dost thou seeke vpon my head?
Dow.
Know then my name is Dowglas,
And I do haunt thee in the Battell thus,
Because some tell me, that thou art a King.
Blunt.
They tell thee true.
Dow.
The Lord of Stafford deere to day hath bought
Thy likenesse: for insted of thee King Harry,
This Sword hath ended him, so shall it thee,
Vnlesse thou yeeld thee as a Prisoner.
Blu.
I was not borne to yeeld, thou haughty Scot,
And thou shalt finde a King that will reuenge
Lords Staffords death.
Fight, Blunt is slaine, then enters Hotspur.
Hot.
O Dowglas, hadst thou fought at Holmedon thus
I neuer had triumphed o're a Scot.
Dow.
All's done, all's won, here breathles lies the king
Hot.
Where?
Dow.
Heere.
Hot.
This Dowglas? No, I know this face full well:
A gallant Knight he was, his name was Blunt,
Semblably furnish'd like the King himselfe.
Dow.
Ah foole: go with thy soule whether it goes,
A borrowed Title hast thou bought too deere.
Why didst thou tell me, that thou wer't a King?
Hot.
The King hath many marching in his Coats.
Dow.
Now by my Sword, I will kill all his Coates,
Ile murder all his Wardrobe peece by peece,
Vntill I meet the King.
Hot.
Vp, and away,
Our Souldiers stand full fairely for the day. Exeunt.
Alarum, and enter Falstaffe solus.
Fal.
Though I could scape shot-free at London, I fear the shot heere: here's no scoring, but vpon the pate. Soft who are you? Sir Walter Blunt, there's Honour for you: here's no vanity, I am as hot as molten Lead, and as heauy too; heauen keepe Lead out of mee, I neede no more weight then mine owne Bowelles. I haue led my rag of Muffins where they are pepper'd: there's not three of my 150. left aliue, and they for the Townes end, to beg during life. But who comes heere?
Enter the Prince.
Pri.
What, stand'st thou idle here? Lend me thy sword,
Many a Nobleman lies starke and stiffe
Vnder the hooues of vaunting enemies,
Whose deaths are vnreueng'd. Prethy lend me thy sword
Fal.
O Hal, I prethee giue me leaue to breath awhile: Turke Gregory neuer did such deeds in Armes, as I haue done this day. I haue paid Percy, I haue made him sure.
Prin.
He is indeed, and liuing to kill thee:
I prethee lend me thy sword.
Falst.
Nay Hal, is Percy bee aliue, thou getst not my Sword; but take my Pistoll if thou wilt.
Prin.
Giue it me: What, is it in the case?
Fal.
I Hal, 'tis hot: There's that will Sacke a City.
The Prince drawes out a Bottle of Sacke.
Prin.
What, is it a time to iest and dally now. Exit.
Fal.
If Percy be aliue, Ile 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: Giue mee life, which if I can
saue, so: if not, honour comes vnlook'd for, and ther's an
end. Exit.
Scena Tertia.
Alarum, excursions, enter the King, the Prince, Lord Iohn of Lancaster, and Earle of Westmerland.
King.
I prethee Harry withdraw thy selfe, thou bleedest too much: Lord Iohn of Lancaster, go you with him.
P.Ioh.
Not I, My Lord, vnlesse I did bleed too.
Prin.
I beseech your Maiesty make vp,
Least your retirement do amaze your friends.
King.
I will do so:
My Lord of Westmerland leade him to his Tent.
West.
Come my Lord, Ile leade you to your Tent.
Prin.
Lead me my Lord? I do not need your helpe;
And heauen forbid a shallow scratch should driue
The Prince of Wales from such a field as this,
Where stain'd Nobility lyes troden on,
And Rebels Armes triumph in massacres.
Ioh.
We breath too long: Come cosin Westmerland,
Our duty this way lies, for heauens sake come.
Prin.
By heauen thou hast deceiu'd me Lancaster,
I did not thinke thee Lord of such a spirit:
Before, I lou'd thee as a Brother, Iohn;
But now, I do respect thee as my Soule.
King.
I saw him hold Lord Percy at the point,
With lustier maintenance then I did looke for
Of such an vngrowne Warriour.
Prin.
O this Boy, lends mettall to vs all. Exit.
Enter Dowglas.
Dow.
Another King? They grow like Hydra's heads:
I am the Dowglas, fatall to all those
That weare those colours on them. What art thou
That counterfeit'st the person of a King?
King.
The King himselfe: who Dowglas grieues at hart
