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Fal. Nay, Hal, if Percy be alive, thou get'st not my sword, but take my pistol, if thou wilt.

P. Henry. Give it me. What, is it in the case ?

Fal. Ay, Hal, 'tis hot. There's that will fack a city. [The Prince draws it out, and finds it a bottle of sack. P. Henry. What, is it a time to jest and dally now?

[Throws it al bim, 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.


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Alarm, Excursions. Enter the King, the Prince, Lord John of Lancaster, and the Earl of Westmorland.

K. Henry. I pr’ythee, Harry, withdraw thyself, thou bleedest too much. Lord John of Lancaster, go

you with him.

Lan. Not I, my lord, unless I did bleed too.

P. Henry. I do beseech your Majesty make up,
Left your retirement do amaze your friends.

K. Henry. I will do so.
My lord of Westmorland, lead him to his Tent. ·

West. Come, my lord, I'll lead you to your Tent.

9 If Percy be alive, I'll which the Prince had tossed at his pierce bim ;] 'Certainly, he'll head, and being about to anipierce him, i. e. Prince Henry will, mate himself with a draughts who is just gone out to seek him. cries, if Percy be alive I'll pierce Besides, I'll pierce him, contra- him, and so draws the cork. I dicts the whole turn and humour do not propose this with much of the speech. WARBURTON, confidence.

I rather take the conceit to be * A corbenado is a piece of this. To pierce a veljel is to top meat cut croswile for the grilit. Falti f takes up his bottle iron. 8

P. Henry.

P. Henry. Lead me, my lord ? I do not need your

And heav'n forbid, a shallow scratch fould drive
The Prince of Wal's from such a field as this,
Where stain’d Nobility lies trodden on,
And Rebels arıns triumph in massacres !
Lan. We breathe too long; come, cousin IV ijt-

Our duty this way lies; for heav’n’s fake, come.
· P. Henry. By heav'n, thou hast deceiv'd me, Lax-

I did not think thee lord of such a spirit;
Before, I lov'd thee as a brother, yohn ;
But now, I do respect thee as my soul.

K. Henry. I saw him hold lord Percy at the point,
With lustier maintenance than I did look for
Of such an ungrown warrior.
'P. Henry. Oh, this boy
Lends mettle to us all.

Manet King Henry. Enter Dowglas.


Dewg. Another King? they grow, like Hydroi's heads,
I am the Dowgles, fatal to all those
That wear thole colours on them. What art thou,
That counterfeit'lt the person of a King?
K. Henry. The King himself, who, Dowglas, grieves

at heart,
So many of his shadows thou hast met,
And not the very King. I have two boys
Seck Percy and thyself about the field;
But seeing thou fal'lt on me fo luckily,
I will aslay thee; fo defend thyself.

I wg. I fear, thou art another counterfeit,
And yet, in faith, thou bear's 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 danger,


Enter Prince Henry.
P. Henry. Hold up thy head, vile Scot, or thou art

Never to hold it up again ; the Spirits
Of Sherly, Stafford, Blunt, are in my arms.
It is the Prince of Wales that threatens thee,
Who never promiseth, but means to pay.

[They fight, Dowglas flyetb.
Chearly, iny lord; how fares your Grace?
Sir Nicholas Gawley hath for succour sent,
And so hath Clifton; I'll to Clifton strait.

K. Henry. Stay, and breathe a while;
Thou hast redeem'd my loft opinion,
And shew'd, thou mak'st some tender of


life, In this fair rescue thou hast brought to me.

P. Henry. O heav'n! they did me too much injury,
That ever said, I hearken'd for your death.
If it were so, I might have let alone

Th’insulting hand of Dowglas over you ;
Which would have been as speedy in your end,
As all the pois'nous potions in the world,
And sav'd the treach'rous labour of your son.
K. Henry. Make up to Clifton, I'll to Sir Nicholas




Enter Hotspur.
Hor. If I mistake not, thou art Harry Monmouth.
P. Henry. Thou speak’st as if I would deny my

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Hot. My name is Harry Percy.

P. Henry. Then I see
A very valiant Rebel of that name.
I am the Prince of Wales : and think not, Percy,


To share with me in Glory any more.
Two Stars keep not their motion in one sphere;
Nor can one England brook a double Reign,
Of Harry Percy and the Prince of Wales.

Hot. Nor shall 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 crest
I'll crop, to make a garland for


head. Hot. I can no longer brook thy vanities, [Fight.

Enter Falstaff.

Fal. Well said, Hal; to it, Hal.-Nay, you shall find no boy's play here, I can tell you.

Enter Dowglas, he fights with Falstaff, who falls down

as if he were dead. The Prince kills Percy. Hot. O, Harry, thou hast robb'd me of

my youth. I better brook the loss of brittle life, Than 'those proud titles thou hast won of me, They wound my thoughts, worse than thy sword my


But thought's the save of life, and life time's fool,
And time, that takes survey of all the world,
Must have a stop. O, I could prophesie,
But that the earthy and cold hand of death,
Lyes on my tongue. No, Percy, thou art dust,
And food for


'Those proud Titles thou hast wounds his thoughts, but thought, won of me;

being dependent on lift, must cease They wound my thoughts with it, and will soon be at an But thought's the slave of life, end. Life, on which thought and life time's fool;

depends, is itself of no great vaAnd time

-must have a lue, being the fool and sport of ftop.] Hot-fpur in his last time; of tim. which, with all its moments endeavours to console dominion over sublunary things, himself. The glory of the Prince must itself at lalt be stopped. Vol. IV.

P. Henry.

great heart !

P. Henry. For worms, brave Percy. Fare thee well,

! * Ill-weav'd ambition, how much art thou shrunk! When that this body did contain a spirit, ? A Kingdom for it was too small a bound: But now two paces of the vileft earth Is room enough. This earth, that bears thee dead, Bears not alive fo ftout a gentleman. If thou wert sensible of courtesy, I should not make fo great a show of zeal ; 3 But let my favours hide thy mangled face, And, ev'n in thy behalf, I thank myself For doing these fair Rites of tenderness. Adieu, and take thy praise with thee to heav'n ; Thy ignominy step with thee in the Grave, But not remember'd in thy epitaph.

[He sees Falstaff on the ground. - What! old acquaintance ! could not all this flesh Keep in a little life ? poor Jack! farewel ! I could have better spar'd a better man. Oh, I should have a heavy miss of thee, If I were much in love with Vanity. Death hath not struck + so fair a Deer to day, Though many a + dearer in this bloody fray : Imbowelld will I see thee by and by, Till then, in blood by noble Percy lye.


* Ill-wav'l ambition, &c.-) a scarf to hide the ghaftliness of A metaphor taken from cloath, death. which forinks when it is ill 4 Sofa'r a deer.] This is the weav’d, when its texture is loose. reading of the first edition, and 2 Carminibus confide bonis-ja- of the other quartos. The frit cet ecce Tibullus

folio has fit, which was followl'ix manet e tito parva quod cd by all the editors, urna capit.

Ovid. There is in these lines a very 3 But lee my favours hide thy natural mixture of the serious and

mangled fare,] We should ludicrous produced by the view read favour, face or countenance. of Percy and Falcft. I with all He stooping down here to kiss play on words had been forborn.

WARBURTON. + a dearer) Many of greater He rather covers his face with value.



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