To share with me in glory any more:

Two starres keepe not their motion in one fphere,
Nor can one England brooke a double raigne,
Of Harry Percy, and the prince of Wales.

Hot. Now fhall it Harry, for the houre is come,
To end the one of vs; and would to God,
Thy name in armes, were now as great as mine.
Prin. Ile make it greater, ere I part from thee,
And all thy budding honours on thy creft
Ile crop, to make a garland for my head.

Hot. I can no longer brooke thy vanities.

They fight. Enter Falstalffe.

Fal. Well faid Hal, to it Hal. Nay, you fhall find no boyes play here, I can tell you.

Enter Dowglas, he fights with Falftalffe, he fals downe as if he were dead, the prince killeth Percy.

Hot. Oh Harry, thou haft robd me of my youth,

I better broke the loffe of brittle life,

Then those proud titles thou haft won of me,

They wound my thoughts worse, then the fword* my flesh:

But thought's the flaue of life, and lifetimes foole;

And time, that takes furuay of all the world,
Must haue a stop. O, I could prophefie,

But that the earth, and cold hand of death.

Lies on my tongue: no Percy, thou art duft,
And food for-

Prin. For wormes, braue Percy. Fare thee well, great heart,

Ill weau'd ambition, how much art thou fhrunke?

When that this body did containe a spirit,

A kingdome for it, was too fmall a bound;

* word.

But

But now two paces of the vileft earth,

Is roome enough: this earth that beares the dead,
Beares not aliue fo ftout a gentleman.

If thou wert fenfible of curtefie,

I fhould not make fo great a fhew of zeale:
But let my fauours hide thy mangled face,
And euen in thy behalfe, Ile thanke my felfe
For doing these faire rites of tendernes,

Adieu, and take thy prayfe with thee to heauen,

*

Thy ignomy fleepe with thee in the graue,

But not remembred in thy epitaph.

He fpieth Falftalffe on the ground.

What, old acquaintance, could not all this flesh
Keepe in a litle life? poore Jacke farewell:

I could haue better fpard a better man :
O, I should haue a heauy miffe of thee,
If I were much in loue with vanitie;
Death hath not ftrooke so faire a deere to day,
Though many dearer in this bloody fray,
Imboweld will I fee thee by and by,

Till then, in blood by noble Percy lie.

Falftalffe ryfeth vp.

Fal. Imboweld? if thou imbowell me to day, Ile giue you leaue to powder me, and eate me too to morrow. Zloud, t'was time to counterfeite, or that hot termagant Scot had paide mee scot and lot too. Counterfeit? I am no counterfeit: to die is to be a counterfeit, for he is but the counterfeit of a man, who hath not the life of a man: but to coun terfeit dying, when a man thereby liueth, is to be no counterfeit, but the true and perfect image of life indeed. The better part of valour is difcretion; in the which better part, I haue faued my life. Zounds I am afraid of this gunpowder

Percie, though he be dead: how if he fhould counterfeit too, and rife? by my fayth, I am afraide he would proue the better counterfeit? therefore Ile make him fure; yea, and Ile fweare I kilde * him. Why may not he rife as well as I? nothing confutes me but eyes, and no body fees me: therefore firra, with a new wound in your thigh, come you along with me.

He takes up Hotspur on his backe. Enter prince and Iohn of Lancaster.

Prin. Come brother John, full brauely haft thou flesht

Thy mayden fword.

John. But foft, who haue we heere?

Did you not tell me this fatt man was dead?

Prin. I did, I faw him dead,

Breathles and bleeding on the ground. Art thou aliue?
Or is it fantafie that playes vpon our eye-fight?

I prethee fpeake, we will not truft our eyes

Without our eares, thou art not what thou seemst.

Fal. No, thats certaine, I am not a double man: but if I be not lacke Falftalife, then am I a iacke: there is Percy; if your father will doe me any honour, fo: if not, let him kill the next Percy himfelfe: I looke to be either earle or duke, I can affure you.

Prin. Why Percy I kild† my felfe, and faw thee dead.

Fal. Didft thou? Lord, Lord, how the world is giuen to lying? I graunt you, I was downe, and out of breath, and fo was he, but we rofe both at an inftant, and fought a long houre by Shreweftury clocke, if I may be beleeued, fo: if not, let them that should reward valour, beare the finne vpon their owne heads. Ile take it vpon my death, I gaue him this wound in the thigh, if the man were aliue, and would deny it, zounds I would make him eate a peece of my sword.

• few. + Легше

John. This is the ftrangeft tale that euer I heard.
Prin. This is the ftrangeft fellow, brother Iohn,
Come bring your luggage nobly on your backe,
For my part, if a lie may doe thee grace,
Ile guilde it with the happiest tearmes I haue.

A retreat is founded,

Prin. The trumpets found retreat, the day is ours:
Come brother, lets to the higheft of the field,
To fee what friendes are liuing, who are dead.

Exeunt.

Fal. Ile follow as they fay for reward. He that rewardes me, God reward him. If I doe grow great, Ile grow leffe? for Ile purge, and leaue facke, and liue cleanly, as a nobleman fhould doe.

Exit.

The trumpets found. Enter the king, prince of Wales, lord Iohn of Lancaster, earle of Weftmerland, with Worcester and Vernon prifoners.

King. Thus ener did rebellion find rebuke,
Ill fpirited Worcefler, did not we fend grace,
Pardon, and tearmes of loue to all of you?
And wouldst thou turn our offers contrary,
Mifufe the tenor of thy kinfmans truft?
Three knights vpon our partie flaine to day,
A noble earle, and many a creature elfe,
Had been aliue this houre,

If like a chriftian thou hadft truly borne

Betwixt our armies true intelligence.

Wor. What I haue done, my fafetie vrgde me to,

And I imbrace this fortune patiently,

Since not to be auoyded, it fals on me.

King. Beare Worcefter to the death, and Vernon too: Other offenders we will paufe vpon.

Prin. The noble Scot, lord Dowglas, when he faw
The fortune of the day quite turnd from him,
The noble Percy flaine, and all his men,
Vpon the foot of feare, fled with the rest;
And falling from a hill, he was fo bruizd,
That the purfuers took him. At my tent,
The Douglas is, and I befeech your grace,
I may difpofe of him.

Το

King. With all my heart.

Prin. Then brother Iohn of Lancaster,

you this honourable bountie fhall belong,
Goe to the Dowglas, and deliuer him
Vp to his pleafure, ranfomleffe and free,
His valoure showne vpon our creftes to day,

Hath taught vs how to cherish fuch high deedes,
Euen in the bofome of our aduerfaries.

King. Then this remaines, that we deuide our power,
You fonne Iohn, and my coofen Weftmerland,
Towards Yorke fhall bend you with your deereft fpeed,
To meete Northumberland, and the prelate Scroope,
Who, as we heare, are bufily in armes :

My felfe and you, fonne Harry, will towards Wales,
To fight with Glendower, and the earle of March:
Rebellion in this land fhall loofe his way,
Meeting the checke of fuch another day:
And fince this bufineffe fo faire is done,

Let vs not leaue, till all our owne be won.

Iobn. I thanke your grace for this bigh curtefie

Which I fhall give away immediately.

Exeunt.

Thefe two lines are in the edition in 1599, but omitted in all the others

I have feen.

FINI S.