To spend that shortness basely, were too long,
If life did ride upon a dial's point,
Still ending at the arrival of an hour.
An if we live, we live to tread on kings;
If die, brave death, when princes die with us!
Now for our conscience, the arms are fair,
When the intent of bearing them is just.

Enter another Messenger.
Mess. My lord, prepare; the king comes on apace.

Hot. I thank him, that he cuts me from my tale,
For I profess not talking; Only this-
Let each man do his best: and here draw I
A sword, whose temper I intend to stain
With the best blood that I can meet withal
In the adventure of this perilous day.
Now,-Esperance !3–Percy!-and set on.-
Sound all the lofty instruments of war,
And by that musick let us all embrace:
For, heaven to earth, some of us never shall
A second time do such a courtesy.

[The Trumpets sound. They embrace, and exeunt.

SCENE III.

Plain near Shrewsbury.

Excursions, and parties fighting. Alarum to the

Battle. Then enter DOUGLAS and BLUNT, meeting. Blunt. What is thy name, that in the battle thus Thou crossest me? what honour dost thou seek

8 Now,-Esperance!) This was the word of battle on Percy's side, and has always been the motto of the Percy family.

» For, heaven to earth,] i. e, one might wager heaven to earth,

Upon my head

? 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
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
Lord Stafford's death.

[They fight, and Blunt is slain.

Enter HOTSPUR. Hot. O Douglas, hadst thou fought at Holme

don thus, I never had triumph'd upon a Scot. Doug. All's done, all's won; here breathless lies

the king 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.

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 marchings in his coats. Doug. Now, by my sword, I will kill all his

coats; I'll murder all his wardrobe, piece by piece, Until I meet the king.

Semblably furnish'd, &c.] i.e. in resemblance, alike.

Hot.

Up, and away; Our soldiers stand full fairly for the day.

[Exeunt.

Other Alarums. Enter FALSTAFF. 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 my own bowels.--I have led my raggamuffins 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 me thy sword, I pry’thee.

Fal. Nay, before God, Hal, if Percy be alive

2 _Turk Gregory never did such deeds in arms,] Meaning Gregory the Seventh, called Hildebrand. This furious friar sura mounted almost invincible obstacles to deprive the Emperor of his right of investiture of bishops, which his predecessors had long attempted in vain. Fox, in his History, hath made Gregory so odious, that I don't doubt but the good protestants of that time were well pleased to hear him thus characterized, as uniting the

utes of their two great enemies, the Turk and Pope, in one. VOL. IV.

NN

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, 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.

[Exita

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:

1

a carbonado of me.] A carbonado is a piece of meat cut G'oss-wise for the gridiron.

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 WESTMORELAND. P. Hen. By heaven, thou hast deceivid 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.

O, this boy,
Lends mettle to us all.

[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,