Other Alarums.-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, and as heavy too: God keep lead out of me! I need no more weight than mine own bowels.-I have led my raggamuffins where they are peppered: there's but 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 Prince HENRY. West. Come, my lord, I will lead you to your tent. P. Hen. Lead me, my lord? I do not need your help: [drive And heaven forbid, a shallow scratch should The prince of Wales from such a field as this: Where stain'd nobility lies trodden on, And rebels' arms triumph in massacres! P. John. We breathe too long:-Come, cousin Westmoreland, Our duty this way lies; for God's sake, come. I did not think thee lord of such a spirit: With lustier maintenance than I did look for Alarums.-Enter DOUGLAS. [Exit Doug. Another king! they grow like Hydra's I am the Douglas, fatal to all those [heads: That wear those colours on them.-What art That counterfeit'st the person of a king? [thou, K. Hen. The king himself; who, Douglas, grieves at heart, So many of his shadows thou hast met, P. Hen. What, stand'st thou idle here? lend And not the very king. I have two boys, me thy sword: P. Hen. Give it me: What, is it in the case? Fal. Ay, Hal; 'tis hot, 'tis hot; there's that will sack a city. now? [The Prince draws out a bottle of sack. P. Hen. What, is't a time to jest and dally [Throws it at him and exit. Fal. Well, 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 carbonadot 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 unlooked for, and there's an end. [Exit. SCENE IV.-Another part of the Field. Alarums.-Excursions.—Enter the KING, Prince HENRY, Prince JOHN, and WESTMORELAND. Seek Percy, and thyself, about the field: Doug. I fear, thou art another counterfeit; And yet, in faith, thou bear'st thee like a king: But mine, I am sure, thou art, whoe'er thou be, And thus I win thee. [They fight; the KING being in danger, enter Prince HENRY. P. Hen. Hold up thy head, vile Scot, or thou art like Never to hold it up again! the spirits K. Hen. Stay, and breathe a while:- To share with me in glory any more: Hot. Nor shall it, Harry, for the hour is come And all the budding honours on thy crest Enter FALSTAFF. [They fight. Fal. Well said, Hal! to it, Hal!-Nay, you shall find no boy's play here, I can tell you. Enter DOUGLAS; he fights with FALSTAFF, who falls down as if he were dead, and exit DovcLAS. HOTSPUR is wounded, and fulls. Hot. O, Harry, thou hast robb'd me of my Ill-weay'd ambition, how much art thou shrunk! [He sees FALSTAFF on the ground. Fal. [Rising slowly.] Embowelled! if thou Scarf, with which he covers Percy's face. + Salt. well as I? Nothing confutes me but eyes, and nobody sees me. Therefore, sirrah, [Stabbing him.] with a new wound in your thigh, come you along with me. [Takes HOTSPUR on his back. Re-enter Prince HENRY and Prince JOHN. P. Hen. Come, brother John, full bravely hast thou flesh'd Thy maiden sword. P. John. But, soft! whom have we here? Art thou alive? or is it fantasy Fal. No, that's certain; I am not a double man: but if I be not Jack Falstaff, then am I a Jack. There is Percy: [Throwing the body down.] if your father will do me any honour, so; if not, let him kill the next Percy himself. I look to be either earl or duke, I can assure you. P. Hen. Why, Percy I killed myself, and saw thee dead. Fal. Didst thou ?-Lord, lord, how this world is given to lying!-I grant you, I was down, and out of breath; and so was he: but we arose 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 valour, bear the sin upon their own heads. I'll take it upon my death, I gave him this wound in the thigh: if the man were alive, and would deny it, I would make him eat a piece of my sword. P. John. This is the strangest tale that e'er I heard. P. Hen. This is the strangest fellow, brother John. Come, bring your luggage nobly on your back: [A Retreat is sounded. The trumpet sounds retreat, the day is ours, [Exeunt Prince HENRY and Prince JOHN, SCENE V.-Another part of the Field. The Trumpets sound.-Enter King HENRY, Prince HENRY, Prince JOHN, WESTMORELAND, and others, with WORCESTER, and VERNON, prisoners. K. Hen. Thus ever did rebellion find re- Ill-spirited Worcester! did we not send grace, Wor. What I have done, my safety urg'd me Other offenders we will pause upon.— [Exeunt WORCESTER and VERNON, guarded. How goes the field? P. Hen. The noble Scot, lord Douglas, when he saw The fortune of the day quite turn'd from him, K. Hen. With all my heart. [you P. Hen. Then, brother John of Lancaster to This honourable bounty shall belong: Go to the Douglas, and deliver him Up to his pleasure, ransomless, and free: His valour, shown upon our crests to-day, Warkworth.-Before Northumberland's Castle. The acts commenced on this ball of earth: Is thought with child by the stern tyrant war, Among my household? Why is Rumour here? Hath beaten down young Hotspur, and his Quenching the flame of bold rebellion troops, Even with the rebel's blood. But what mean I To speak so true at first? my office is towns Between that royal field of Shrewsbury They bring smooth comforts false, worse than ACT I. SCENE 1.-The same.-The PORTER before the Gate; Enter Lord BARDOLPH. Bard. Who keeps the gate here, ho?Where is the earl? Port. What shall I say you are? Northumberland castle. Bard. Tell thou the earl, That the lord Bardolph doth attend him here. Port. His lordship is walk'd forth into the orchard; Please it your honour, knock but at the gate, And he himself will answer. Enter NORTHUMBERLAND. Bard. Here comes the earl. North. What news, lord Bardolph? every minute now Should be the father of some stratagem:* The times are wild; contention, like a horse Full of high feeding, madly hath broke loose, And bears down all before him. Bard. Noble earl, I bring you certain news from Shrewsbury. North. Good, an heaven will! Blunts Bard. As good as heart can wish :The king is almost wounded to the death; And, in the fortune of my lord your son, Prince Harry slain outright; and both the [John, Kill'd by the hand of Douglas: young prince And Westmoreland, and Stafford, fled the field; And Harry Monmouth's brawn, the hulk Sir Is prisoner to your son: O, such a day, [John, So fought, so follow'd, and so fairly won, Came not, till now, to dignify the times, Since Cæsar's fortunes! North. How is this deriv'd? Saw you the field? came you from Shrewsbury? Bard. I spake with one, my lord, that came from thence; A gentleman well bred, and of good name, That freely render'd me these news for true. North. Here comes my servant, Travers, whom I sent On Tuesday last to listen after news. Bard. My lord, I over-rode him on the way; And he is furnish'd with no certainties, More than he haply may retain from me. Enter TRAVERS. North. Now, Travers, what good tidings come with you? Tra. My lord, Sir John Umfrevile turn'd me back With joyful tidings; and, being better hors'd, He ask'd the way to Chester; and of him North. Ha!- -Again. He was some hilding* fellow, that had stol'n The horse he rode on; and, upon my life, Spoke at a venture. Look, here comes more news. Enter MORTON. North. Yea, this man's brow, like to a title leaf, Fortells the nature of a tragic volume: North. How doth my son, and, brother? burn'd: But Priam found the fire, ere he his tongue, Your brother, thus; so fought the noble Doug- North. Why, he is dead. [yet: See, what a ready tongue suspicion hath? He, that but fears the thing he would not know, [eyes, That what he fear'd is chanced. Yet speak, Hath, by instinct, knowledge from others' Morton; I see a strange confession in thine eye: [sin, That, which I would to heaven I had not seen: But these mine eyes saw him in bloody state, Said he, young Harry Percy's spur was cold? Rend'ring faint quittance, wearied and out Of Hotspur, coldspur? that rebellion Had met ill-luck! Bard. My lord, I'll tell you what;— If my young lord your son have not the day, Upon mine honour, for a silken point‡ breath'd To Harry Monmouth: whose swift wrath beat down [up. The never-daunted Percy to the earth, North. Why should the gentleman, that rode Even to the dullest peasant in his camp,) |