-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 my own bowels.—I have led my ragamuffins 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.

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: Pr'ythee, lend 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. Lend thy sword, I pr'ythee ‡.

Fal. Nay, before God, 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; 'tis hot, 'tis hot; there's that will sack a city. [The Prince draws out a bottle of sack. P. Hen. What, is't a time to jest and dally now? [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,

2

"lend me thy sword."-MALONE.

Turk Gregory never did such deeds in arms,] Meaning Gregory the Seventh, called Hildebrand. This furious friar surmounted almost invincible obstacles to deprive the emperor of his right of investiture of bishops, which his predecessors had long attempted in vain.

"I pr'ythee lend me thy sword.”—MALONE.

3

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 un

:

looked 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.

K. Hen. I pr'ythee,

Harry, withdraw thyself; thou bleed'st too much :-
Lord John of Lancaster, go you with him.

P. John. Not I, my lord, unless I did bleed too.
P. Hen. I do beseech your majesty, make up,
Lest your retirement do amaze your friends.
K. Hen. I will do so :-

My lord of Westmoreland, lead him to his tent.

West. Come, my lord, I will lead you to your tent.

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

help:

And heaven forbid, a shallow scratch should drive

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.

[Exeunt Prince JOHN and WEST

MORELAND.

3

— a carbonado of me.] A carbonado is a piece of meat cut cross-wise for the gridiron.

VOL IV.

I i

P. Hen. By heaven, thou hast deceiv'd me, Lan

caster,

I did not think thee lord of such a spirit:
Before, I lov'd thee as a brother, John;

But now, I do respect thee as. my soul.

K. Hen. I saw him hold lord Percy at the point, With lustier maintenance than I did look for

Of such an ungrown warrior.

P. Hen.

Lends mettle to us all.

O, this boy

[Exit.

Alarums. Enter DOUGLAS.

Doug. Another king! they grow like hydras' heads: I am the Douglas, fatal to all those

That wear those colours on them.-What art thou,
That counterfeit'st the person of a king?

K. Hen. The king himself; who, Douglas, grieves at

heart,

So many of his shadows thou hast met,
And not the very king. I have two boys,
Seek Percy, and thyself, about the field:
But, seeing thou fall'st on me so luckily,
I will assay thee; so defend thyself.

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 Of Shirley, Stafford, Blunt, are in my arms: It is the prince of Wales, that threatens thee; Who never promiseth, but he means to pay.

[They fight; DOUGLAS flies. Cheerly, my lord; How fares your grace?—

Sir Nicholas Gawsey hath for succour sent,
And so hath Clifton; I'll to Clifton straight.

K. Hen. Stay, and breathe awhile:

Thou hast redeem'd thy lost opinion;

And show'd, thou mak'st some tender of my life,
In this fair rescue thou hast brought to me.

P. Hen. O heaven! they did me too much injury,
That ever said, I hearken'd for your death.
If it were so, I might have let alone
The insulting hand of Douglas over you;
Which would have been as speedy in your end,
As all the poisonous potions in the world,
And sav'd the treacherous labour of your son.

A

K. Hen. Make up to Clifton, I'll to sir Nicholas [Exit King HENRY.

Gawsey.

Enter HOTSPUR.

Hot. If I mistake not, thou art Harry Monmouth.
P. Hen. Thou speak'st as if I would deny my name.
Hot. My name is Harry Percy.

P. Hen.

very valiant rebel of the name.

Why, then I see

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 God,
Thy name in arms were now as great as mine!

P. Hen. 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 my 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 DOUGLAS; he fights with FALSTAFF, who falls down as if he were dead, and exit DOUGLAS. HOTSPUR is wounded, and falls.

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 flesh :

But thought's the slave of life, and life, time's fool;
And time, that takes survey of all the world,
Must have a stop'. O, I could prophesy,

But that the earthy and cold hand of death

Lies on my tongue :-No, Percy, thou art dust,
And food for

[Dies.

P. Hen. For worms, brave Percy: Fare thee well, great heart!

I'll-weav'd ambition, how much art thou shrunk!

O, Harry, thou hast robb'd me of my youth:] Shakspeare has chosen to make Hotspur fall by the hand of the prince of Wales; but there is, I believe, no authority for the fact. Holinshed says, "The king slew that day with his own hand six and thirty persons of his enemies. The other [i. e. troops] of his party, encouraged by his doings, fought valiantly, and slew the lord Percy, called Henry Hotspur." Speed says Percy was killed by an unknown hand. MALone.

5

those proud titles thou hast won of me ; &c.] Hotspur in his last moments endeavours to console himself. The glory of the prince wounds his thoughts; but thought, being dependent on life, must cease with it, and will soon be at an end. Life, on which thought depends, is itself of no great value, being the fool and sport of time; of time, which, with all its dominion over sublunary things, must itself at last be stopped. JOHNSON.