Alarum. Excursions. Enter the King, the Prince, Lord
John of Lancaster, Earl of Westmorland
I prithee, Harry, withdraw thyself, thou bleedest too much.
Lord John of Lancaster, go you with him.
Not I, my lord, unless I did bleed too.
I beseech your majesty, make up,
Lest your retirement do amaze your friends.
I will do so. My Lord of Westmorland,
Lead him to his tent.
Come, my lord, I'll lead you to your tent.
Lead me, my lord? I do not need your help,
And God forbid a shallow scratch should drive
The Prince of Wales from such a field as this,
Where stained nobility lies trodden on,
And rebels' arms triumph in massacres!
We breathe too long: come, cousin Westmorland,
Our duty this way lies: for God's sake, come.
Exeunt Lancaster and Westmorland
By God, thou hast deceived me, Lancaster,
I did not think thee lord of such a spirit:
Before, I loved thee as a brother, John,
But now I do respect thee as my soul.
I saw him hold Lord Percy at the point
With lustier maintenance than I did look for
Of such an ungrown warrior.
O, this boy
Lends mettle to us all!
Another king! They grow like Hydra's heads.
I am the Douglas, fatal to all those
That wear those colours on them. What art thou,
That counterfeitest the person of a king?
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 fallest on me so luckily
I will assay thee, and defend thyself.
I fear thou art another counterfeit,
And yet, in faith, thou bearest thee like a king –
But mine I am sure thou art, whoe'er thou be,
And thus I win thee.
They fight, the King being in danger; enter
Prince of Wales
Hold up thy head, vile Scot, or thou art like
Never to hold it up again! The spirits
Of valiant Shirley, Stafford, Blunt, are in my arms.
It is the Prince of Wales that threatens thee,
Who never promiseth but he means to pay.
They fight; Douglas flees
Cheerly, my lord, how fares your grace?
Sir Nicholas Gawsey hath for succour sent,
And so hath Clifton – I'll to Clifton straight.
Stay and breathe a while.
Thou hast redeemed thy lost opinion,
And showed thou makest some tender of my life
In this fair rescue thou hast brought to me.
O God, they did me too much injury
That ever said I hearkened for your death.
If it were so, I might have let alone
The insulting hand of Douglas over you,
Which would have been as speedy in your end
As all the poisonous potions in the world,
And saved the treacherous labour of your son.
Make up to Clifton, I'll to Sir Nicholas Gawsey.
If I mistake not, thou art Harry Monmouth.
Thou speakest as if I would deny my name.
My name is Harry Percy.
Why, then I see
A very valiant rebel of the name.
I am the Prince of Wales, and think not, Percy,
To share with me in glory any more.
Two stars keep not their motion in one sphere,
sphere (n.) 1
celestial globe in which a heavenly body was thought to move, orbit
See Topics: Cosmos
Nor can one England brook a double reign
Of Harry Percy and the Prince of Wales.
Nor shall it, Harry, for the hour is come
To end the one of us; and would to God
Thy name in arms were now as great as mine.
I'll make it greater ere I part from thee,
And all the budding honours on thy crest
crest (n.) 1
[originally the plume of feathers on a] helmet, head-piece
I'll crop to make a garland for my head.
I can no longer brook thy vanities.
Well said, Hal! To it, Hal! Nay, you shall find
no boy's play here, I can tell you.
Enter Douglas; he fighteth with Falstaff, who falls
down as if he were dead
The Prince mortally wounds Hotspur
O Harry, thou hast robbed me of my youth!
I better brook the loss of brittle life
Than those proud titles thou hast won of me.
They wound my thoughts worse than thy sword my flesh.
But thoughts, the slaves of life, and life, time's fool,
And time, that takes survey of all the world,
Must have a stop. O, I could prophesy,
But that the earthy and cold hand of death
Lies on my tongue. No, Percy, thou art dust,
And food for –
For worms, brave Percy. Fare thee well, great heart!
Ill-weaved ambition, how much art thou shrunk.
When that this body did contain a spirit,
A kingdom for it was too small a bound.
But now two paces of the vilest earth
Is room enough. This earth that bears thee dead
Bears not alive so stout a gentleman.
If thou wert sensible of courtesy
I should not make so dear a show of zeal,
But let my favours hide thy mangled face,
And even in thy behalf I'll thank myself
For doing these fair rites of tenderness.
Adieu, and take thy praise with thee to heaven!
Thy ignominy sleep with thee in the grave,
But not remembered in thy epitaph.
He spieth Falstaff on the ground
What, old acquaintance, could not all this flesh
Keep in a little life? Poor Jack, farewell!
I could have better spared a better man.
O, I should have a heavy miss of thee
If I were much in love with vanity.
Death hath not struck so fat a deer today,
Though many dearer, in this bloody fray.
Embowelled will I see thee by and by,
Till then in blood by noble Percy lie.
Falstaff riseth up
Embowelled? If thou embowel me today, I'll
give you leave to powder me and eat me too tomorrow.
'Sblood, 'twas time to counterfeit, or that hot termagant
Scot had paid me, scot and lot too. Counterfeit? I lie,
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 counterfeit dying, when a man thereby
liveth, is to be no counterfeit, but the true and perfect
image of life indeed. The better part of valour is discretion,
in the which better part I have saved my life.
Zounds, I am afraid of this gunpowder Percy, though he
be dead. How if he should counterfeit too and rise? By
my faith, I am afraid he would prove the better counterfeit.
Therefore I'll make him sure, yea, and I'll swear I
killed him. Why may not he rise as well as I? Nothing
confutes me but eyes, and nobody sees me. Therefore,
sirrah (stabbing him), with a new wound in your thigh,
come you along with me.
He takes up Hotspur on his back
Enter Prince and John of Lancaster
Come, brother John, full bravely hast thou fleshed
Thy maiden sword.
But soft, whom have we here?
Did you not tell me this fat man was dead?
I did, I saw him dead,
Breathless and bleeding on the ground. Art thou alive?
Or is it fantasy that plays upon our eyesight?
I prithee speak, we will not trust our eyes
Without our ears. Thou art not what thou seemest.
No, that's certain, I am not a double-man. But
if I be not Jack Falstaff, then am I a Jack. There is
Jack (n.) 1
Jack-in-office, ill-mannered fellow, lout, knave
He throws the body down
If your father will do me any honour, so. If not, let him
kill the next Percy himself. I look to be either earl or
duke, I can assure you.
Why, Percy I killed myself, and saw thee
Didst thou? Lord, Lord, how this world is
given to lying! I grant you I was down, and out of
breath, and so was he, but we rose both at an instant,
and fought a long hour by Shrewsbury clock. If I may
be believed, so. If not, let them that should reward
valour bear the sin upon their own heads. I'll take it
upon my death, I gave him this wound in the thigh. If
the man were alive, and would deny it, zounds, I would
make him eat a piece of my sword.
This is the strangest tale that ever I heard.
This is the strangest fellow, brother John.
Come, bring your luggage nobly on your back.
(aside to Falstaff) For my part, if a lie may do thee grace,
I'll gild it with the happiest terms I have.
A retreat is sounded
The trumpet sounds retreat, the day is ours.
Come, brother, let us to the highest of the field,
To see what friends are living, who are dead.
Exeunt Prince of Wales and Lancaster
I'll follow, as they say, for reward. He that
rewards me, God reward him! If I do grow great, I'll
grow less, for I'll purge, and leave sack, and live
cleanly as a nobleman should do.
Exit, bearing off the body