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Plain between the camps.
The KING enters with his power. Alarum to the battle. Then enter DOUGLAS and SIR WALTER BLUNT.

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 to-day hath bought
Thy likeness, for instead of thee, King Harry,
This sword hath ended him: so shall it thee, (10)
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. Enter HOTSPUR.

O Douglas, hadst thou fought at Holmedon thus,
I never had triumph'd upon a Scot.

All's done, all's won; here breathless lies the king.



This, Douglas? no: I know this face full well: (20)
A gallant knight he was, his name was Blunt;
Semblaby furnish'd like the king himself.

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 ?

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. [Exeunt. Alarum. Enter FALSTAFF, solus. (30)

Though I could 'scape shot-free at
London, I fear the shot here; here's no scoring
but upon the pate. Soft! who are you? Sir
Walter Blunt: there's an 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 (40)
beg during life. But who comes here? Enter the PRINCE.

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 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 sure.

He is, indeed; and living to kill (50)
thee. I prithee, lend me thy sword.

Nay, before God, Hal, if Percy be
alive, thou get'st 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 sack.

What, is it a time to jest and
dally now? [He throws the bottle at him. Exit.

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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