ACT V. Scene IV. Another Part of the Field.
[Alarums. Excursions. Enter King Henry, Prince Henry,
Lancaster, and Westmoreland.]
Harry, withdraw thyself; thou bleedest too much. —
Lord John of Lancaster, go you unto him.
Not I, my lord, unless I did bleed too.
I do beseech your Majesty, make up,
Lest your retirement do amaze your friends.
I will do so. —
My Lord of Westmoreland, 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 stain'd nobility lies trodden on,
And rebels' arms triumph in massacres!
We breathe too long: — come, cousin Westmoreland,
Our duty this way lies; for God's sake, come.
[Exeunt Lancaster and Westmoreland.]
By Heaven, 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!
[Alarums. Enter Douglas.]
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 counterfeit'st 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 fall'st on me so luckily,
I will assay thee; so, defend thyself.
I fear thou art another counterfeit;
And yet, in faith, thou bear'st thee like a king:
But mine I'm sure thou art, whoe'er thou be,
And thus I win thee.
[They fight; the King being in danger, re-enter Prince Henry.]
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 flies.]
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 awhile:
Thou hast redeem'd thy lost opinion;
And show'd 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 hearken'd for your death!
If it were so, I might have let alone
Th' 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 speak'st 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;
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
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.
[Re-enter Douglas; he fights with Falstaff, who falls down as if
he were dead, and exit Douglas. Hotspure is wounded, and falls.]