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

Hot. Where?
Dowg. Here.

Hot. This, Dowglas? 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.

Hot. Up and away,

Our foldiers ftand full fairly for the day.

[Exeunt.

VII.

Alarm, enter Falstaff solus.

Fal. Though I could 'fcape fhot-free at London, I fear the fhot 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, 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?

7 here's no vanity!] In our author's time the negative, in common speech, was used to defign, ironically, the excess of a thing. Thus Ben Johnson in Every Man in his Humour, fays, OHERE'S NO FOPPERY ! 'Death, I can endure the flocks better. Meaning, as the paffage fhews, that the foppery was exceffive. And fo in many other places. But the Oxford Editor not apprehending this, has alter'd it to, there's vanity!

Enter

Enter Prince Henry.

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

Many a noble man lies ftark and ftiff
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. 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.

T

Fal. Nay, Hal, if Percy be alive, thou get'st not my fword: 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 out a bottle of fack. P. Henry. What, is it a time to jeft and dally now? [Throws it at him, and Exit. Fal. If Percy be alive, he'll pierce him; if he do come in my way, fo; if he do not, if I come in his willingly, let him make a carbonado of me. I like not fuch grinning honour as Sir Walter hath: give mě life, which if I can fave, fo; if not, honour comes unlook'd for, and there's an end. [Exit.

8 Turk Gregory never did fuch deeds in arms,] Meaning Gregory the feventh, called Hildebrand. This furious frier furmounted almost invincible obftacles to deprive the emperor of his right of inveftiture of bishops, which his predeceffors had long attempted in vain. Fox, in his hiftory, 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 characterifed, as uniting the attributes of their two great enemies, the Turk and Pope, in one. 9 If Percy be alive, I'LL pierce him ;] Certainly, HE'LL pierce him, i. e. Prince Henry will, who is jult gone out to feek him. Befides, I'll pierce him, contradicts the whole turn and humour of the speech.

VOL. IV.

SCENE

Alarum, Excurfions. Enter the King, the Prince, Lora John of Lancaster, and the Earl of Westmorland.

K. Henry. I pr'ythee, Harry, withdraw thy felf, thou bleedeft too much: Lord John of Lancaster, go with him.

you

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

P. Henry. I do befeech your Majefty make up,
Left your retirement do amaze your friends.
K. Henry. I will do fo:

My lord of Westmorland, lead him to his Tent.
Weft. Come, my lord, I'll lead you to your Tent.
P. Henry. Lead me, my lord! I do not need

help;
And heav'n forbid, a fhallow fcratch fhould drive
The Prince of Wales from fuch a field as this,
Where ftain'd Nobility lies trodden on,
And Rebels arms triumph in maffacres!

your

[land,

Lan. We breathe too long; come, coufin WeftmorOur duty this way lies; for heav'n's fake, come. P.Henry. By heav'n, thou haft deceiv'd me, Lancaster, I did not think thee lord of fuch a fpirit: Before, I lov'd thee as a brother, John; But now, I do refpect thee as my foul.

K. Henry. I faw him hold lord Percy at the point, With luftier maintenance than I did look for

Of fuch an ungrown warrior.

P. Henry. Oh, this boy

Lends mettle to us all.

Manet King Henry. Enter Dowglas.

[Exeunt.

Dowg. Another King? they grow, like Hydra's heads: I am the Dowglas, fatal to all those That wear those colours on them. That counterfeit❜ft the person of a King?

What art thou,

K. Henry.

K. Henry. The King himself, who, Dowglas, grieves

at heart,

So many of his fhadows thou haft met,

And not the very King. I have two boys
Seek Percy and thy felf about the field;
But feeing thou fall'ft on me fo luckily,
I will affay thee: fo defend thy felf.

;

Dowg. I fear, thou art another counterfeit And yet, in faith, thou bear'ft 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 like

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 promifeth, but means to pay.

[They fight, Dowglas flyeth.
Chearly, my lord; how fares your Grace?
Sir Nicholas Gawfey hath for fuccour fent,
And fo hath Clifton: I'll to Clifton strait.
K. Henry. Stay, and breathe a while;
Thou haft redeem'd my loft opinon,

And fhew'd, thou mak'ft fome tender of my life,
In this fair refcue thou haft brought to me.

P. Henry. O heav'n! they did me too much injury, That ever faid, I hearken'd for your death.

If it were fo, I might have let alone

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

[Exit.

O 2

SCENE

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

P. Henry, Then I fee

A very valiant Rebel of that name.

I am the Prince of Wales: and think not, Percy,
To fhare 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 fhall 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 creft
I'll crop, to make a garland for my head.
Hot. I can no longer brook thy vanities.
Enter Falftaff.

[Fight.

Fal. Well faid, Hal; to it, Hal. Nay, you fhall 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.

I

Hot. O, Harry, thou haft robb'd me of my youth: I better brook the lofs of brittle life,

Than thofe proud Titles thou haft won of me; [flesh:
They wound my thoughts, worfe than thy fword my
But thought's the flave of life, and life time's fool;
And time, that takes furvey of all the world,
Must have a stop. O, I could prophefie,

IO, Harry, thou haft robb'd me of my youth:] I fancy Shake"Spear wrote growth, i. e. honours in the bud. The two following lines feem to point to this reading, and not to agree to the com

mon one.

But