He calls us rebels, traitors, and will scourge
With haughty arms this hateful name in us.

Enter Dowglas.

Dowg. Arm, gentlemen, to arms; for I have thrown A brave defiance in King Henry's teeth,

'And Westmorland, that was ingag'd, did bear it;
Which cannot chufe but bring him quickly on.
Wor. The Prince of Wales ftept forth before the King,
And, Nephew, challeng'd you to fingle fight.

Het. 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 fhew'd his talking? feem'd it in contempt ?
Ver. No, by my foul; I never in my life
Did hear a challenge urg'd more modestly,
Unless a brother should a brother dare,
To gentle exercise and proof of arms.
He gave you all the duties of a man,
Trim'd up your praifes with a princely tongue,
Spoke your defervings like a chronicle,
Making you ever better than his Praise:
"By ftill difpraifing Praife, valu'd with You.
And, which became him like a Prince indeed,

And Weftmorland, that was ingag'd] Engag'd is, delivered as an hostage. A few lines before, upon the return of Worcefter, he orders Weftmorland to be difmiffed.

9 By ftill dfpraifing Praife, valued with You.] This foolish line is indeed in the Folio of 1623, but it is evidently the players' nonfenfe. WARB.

This line is not only in the firft folio, but in all the editions before it that I have feen. Why it fhould be cenfured as non

fenfe I know not. To vilify praife, compared or valued with merit fuperiour to praise, is no harfh expreffion. There is another objection to be made. Prince Henry, in his challenge of Percy, had indeed commended him, but with no fuch hyperboles as might reprefent him above praife, and there feems to be no reason why Vernon fhould magnify the Prince's candour beyond the truth. Did then Shakespeare forget the foregoing fcene? or are fome lines loft from the prince's speech?

He

'He made a blushing cital of himself,
And chid his truant youth with fuch a grace,
As if he mafter'd there a double fpirit,
Of teaching, and of learning, inftantly.
There did he paufe; but let me tell the world,
If he out-live the envy of this day,
England did never owe fo fweet a hope,
So much mifconftrued in his wantonnefs.
Hot. Coufin, I think, thou art enamoured
Upon his follies; never did I hear
* Of any Irince, fo wild, at liberty.
But be he as he will, yet once ere night,
I will embrace him with a foldier's arm,
That he fhall fhrink under my courtefie.

Arm, arm with fpced. And fellows, foldiers, friends,
Better confider what you have to do,

Than I, that have not well the gift of tongue,

Can lift your blood up with perfuafion.

Enter a Meffenger.

Me. My lord, here are letters for
Hot. I cannot read them now.

you.

O Gentlemen, the time of life is fhort,

To fpend that fhortnefs bafely were too long,
Tho' life did ride upon a dial's point,
Still ending at th' arrival of an hour.
And if we live, we live to tread on Kings;
If die; brave death, when Princes die with us!
Now, for our confciences, the arms are fair,
When the intent for bearing them is juft.

Enter another Meffenger.

Meff. My lord, prepare, the King comes on apace. Hot. I thank him, that he cuts me from my tale, For I profefs not talking; only this,

Let each man do his best.

And here draw I
A fword, whofe temper I intend to stain
With the best blood that I can meet withal,
In the adventure of this perilous day.
Now, Esperanza! Percy! and fet on;
Sound all the lofty Inftruments of war,
And by that mufick let us all embrace,
For, heav'n to earth, fome of us never fhall
A fecond time do fuch a courtefie.

3

[They embrace, then exeunt.

The Trumpets found.

SCENE

VI.

The King entereth with his power: Alarm to the Battle. Then enter Dowglas, and Sir Walter Blunt.

Blunt. What is thy name, that thus in battle crof feft me?

What honour doft thou feck upon my head?

Dowg. Know then, my name is Dowglas,
And I do haunt thee in the battle thus,
Bec ufe fome tell me that thou art a King.

Bunt. They tell thee true.

Dowg. The lord of Stafford dear to day hath bought Thy I kenes; for instead of thee, King Ilarry, This fword hath ended him; fo fhall it thee, Unlefs thou yield thee as my prifoner.

Blunt. I was not born to yield, thou haughty Scot,

3 Now, Esperanza! - ] This was the word of battle on Percy's fide. Sce Hall's Chronicle, folio 22.

POPE.

4 For (heav'n to earth)-] i. e. one might wager heaven to earth. WARBURTON.

And

And thou shalt find a King tha: will revenge
Lord Stafford's death.

Fight, Blunt is flain, then enter Hot-fpur.

Hot. O Dowglas, hadft thou fought at Holmedon thus, I never had triumphed o'er a Scot.

Dowg. All's done, all's won, here breathlefs lies the King.

Hot. Where?
Doug. Here.

Hot. This, Douglas? no. I know his face full well; A gallant Knight he was, his name was Blunt, Semblably furnish'd like the King himself.

Dowg. Ah! fool go with thy foul, whither it goes! A borrow'd title haft thou bought too dear. Why didft thou tell me that thou wert a King? Hot. The King hath many marching in his coats. Dowg. Now by my fword, I will kill all his coats; I'll murther all his wardrobe piece by piece,

Until I meet the King.

Fal. Though I could 'fcape' fhot free at London, I fear the shot here, here's no fcoring, 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 moulten lead,

5 Shet free at London.] A play upon hot, as it means the part of a re koning, and a missive weapon dfcharged from artillery.

6 bere's no canity!] In our author's time the negative, in

common fpeech, was used to defign, ironically, the excess of a thing. Thus Ben Jobrfon in Every Man in his Humour, fays, OHERE'S NO FOPPERY! 'Death, I can endure the flocks better. Mean

lead, and as heavy too; heav'n keep lead out of me, I need no more weight than mine own bowels!-I have led my rag-o-muffians 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 Prince Henry.

P. Henry. What, ftand'st thou idle here? lend me thy fword;

Many a noble man lies stark and stiff
Under the hoofs of vaunting enemies;

Whose deaths are unreveng'd. Lend me thy fword. Fal. O Hal, I pr'ythee, give me leave to breathe a while. 7 Turk Gregory never did fuch deeds in arms, as I have done this day. I have paid Percy, I have made him fure.

P. Henry. He is, indeed, and living to kill thee: I pr'ythee, lend me thy fword.

Meaning, as the paffage fhews, that the foppery was exceffive. And fo in many other places. But the Oxford Ed or not apprehending this, has alter'd it to, there's vanity! WARBURTON. I am in doubt whether this interpretation, though ingenious. and well fupported, is true. The words may mean, here is real honour, no vanity, or no empty appearance.

7 Turk Gregory never did fuch deeds in arms,] Meaning Gregory the feventh, called Hildeband. This furious frier fur mounted almoft invincible obftacles to deprive the emperor of his right of inveftiture of bishops, which his predeceffors had long attempted in vain. Fox, in his

history, had made this Gregory fo odious, that I don't doubt but the good proteftants of that time were well pleased to hear him thus characterised, as uniting the attributes of their two great enemies, the Turk and Pope, in one. WARBURTON. 8 I have paid Percy, I bave made him fare.

P. Henry. He is, indeed, and, &c.] The Prince's Anfwer, which is apparently connected with Falfa's laft words, does not cohere fo well as if the knight had faid,

I have made him fire; Percy's fafe enough. Perhaps a word or two like thefe may be loft.

Fal.