The King enters with his power. Alarum to the battle.
Then enter Douglas, and Sir Walter Blunt, disguised
as the King
What is thy name that in the battle thus
Thou crossest me? What honour dost thou seek
Upon my head?
Know then my name is Douglas,
And I do haunt thee in the battle thus
Because some tell me that thou art a king.
They tell thee true.
The Lord of Stafford dear today 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.
I was not born a yielder, thou proud Scot,
And thou shalt find a king that will revenge
Lord Stafford's death.
They fight; Douglas kills Blunt
Then enter Hotspur
O Douglas, hadst thou fought at Holmedon thus
I never had triumphed upon a Scot.
All's done, all's won. Here breathless lies the King.
This, Douglas? No, I know this face full well.
A gallant knight he was, his name was Blunt,
Semblably furnished like the King himself.
A fool go with thy soul, whither it goes!
A borrowed title hast thou bought too dear.
Why didst thou tell me that thou wert a king?
The King hath many marching in his coats.
Now, by my sword, I will kill all his coats!
I'll murder all his wardrobe, piece by piece,
Until I meet the King.
Up and away!
Our soldiers stand full fairly for the day.
Alarum. Enter Falstaff alone
scot-free, without paying the bill; also: unwounded, unpunished
Though I could scape shot-free at London, I
fear the shot here, here's no scoring but upon the pate.
charging to an account; also: cutting, wounding
Soft! Who are you? 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?
Enter the Prince
What, standest thou idle here? Lend me thy sword.
Many a nobleman lies stark and stiff
Under the hoofs of vaunting enemies,
Whose deaths are yet unrevenged. I prithee
Lend me thy sword.
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
He is indeed, and living to kill thee.
I prithee lend me thy sword.
Nay, before God, Hal, if Percy be alive thou
gets not my sword, but take my pistol if thou wilt.
Give it me. What, is it in the case?
Ay, Hal, 'tis hot, 'tis hot. There's that will
sack a city.
The Prince draws it out, and finds it to be a bottle of
What, is it a time to jest and dally now?
He throws the bottle at him.
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.