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Between the Camps. | |
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Excursions and Parties fighting. Alarum to the Battle. Then enter DOUGLAS and SIR WALTER BLUNT, meeting. | |
| Blunt. What is thy name, that in the battle thus | |
| Thou crossest me? what honour dost thou seek | |
| Upon my head? | 5 |
| Doug. Know then, my name is Douglas; | |
| And I do haunt thee in the battle thus | |
| Because some tell me that thou art a king. | |
| Blunt. They tell thee true. | |
| Doug. The Lord of Stafford dear to-day hath bought | 10 |
| Thy likeness; for, instead of thee, King Harry, | |
| This sword hath ended him: so shall it thee, | |
| Unless thou yield thee as my prisoner. | |
| Blunt. I was not born a yielder, thou proud Scot; | |
| And thou shalt find a king that will revenge | 15 |
| Lord Stafford’s death. [They fight, and BLUNT is slain. | |
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Enter HOTSPUR. | |
| Hot. O, Douglas! hadst thou fought at Holmedon thus, | |
| I never had triumph’d upon a Scot. | |
| Doug. All’s done, all’s won: here breathless lies the king. | 20 |
| Hot. Where? | |
| Doug. Here. | |
| Hot. This, Douglas! no; I know this face full well; | |
| A gallant knight he was, his name was Blunt; | |
| Semblably furnish’d like the king himself. | 25 |
| Doug. A fool go with thy soul, whither it goes! | |
| A borrow’d title hast thou bought too dear: | |
| Why didst thou tell me that thou wert a king? | |
| Hot. The king hath many marching in his coats. | |
| Doug. Now, by my sword, I will kill all his coats; | 30 |
| I’ll murder all his wardrobe, piece by piece, | |
| Until I meet the king. | |
| Hot. Up, and away! | |
| Our soldiers stand full fairly for the day. [Exeunt. | |
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Alarums. Enter FALSTAFF. | 35 |
| Fal. Though I could ’scape shot-free at London, I fear the shot here; here’s no scoring 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 molten lead, and as heavy too: God keep lead out of me! I need no more weight than mine own bowels. I have led my ragamuffins where they are peppered: 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? | |
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Enter the PRINCE. | |
| Prince. What! stand’st thou idle here? lend me thy sword: | |
| Many a nobleman lies stark and stiff | |
| Under the hoofs of vaunting enemies, | 40 |
| Whose deaths are unreveng’d: prithee, lend me thy sword. | |
| Fal. O Hal! I prithee, give me leave to breathe awhile. Turk Gregory never did such deeds in arms as I have done this day. I have paid Percy, I have made him sure. | |
| Prince. He is, indeed; and living to kill thee. I prithee, lend me thy sword. | |
| Fal. Nay, before God, Hal, if Percy be alive, thou gett’st not my sword; but take my pistol, if thou wilt. | |
| Prince. Give it me. What! is it in the case? | 45 |
| Fal. Ay, Hal; ’tis hot, ’tis hot: there’s that will sack a city. [The PRINCE draws out a bottle of sack. | |
| Prince. 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, 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 unlooked for, and there’s an end. [Exit. | |
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