The Complete Works of William Shakespeare · William Shakespeare
SCENE IV. Another Part of the Field.
Alarums. Excursions. Enter King Henry, Prince Henry, Lancaster and Westmoreland. KING. I prithee, Harry, withdraw thyself, thou bleedest too much. Lord John of Lancaster, go you with him. LANCASTER. Not I, my lord, unless I did bleed too. PRINCE. I do beseech your Majesty, make up, Lest your retirement do amaze your friends. KING. I will do so. My Lord of Westmoreland, Lead him to his tent. WESTMORELAND. Come, my lord, I’ll lead you to your tent. PRINCE. 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! LANCASTER. We breathe too long. Come, cousin Westmoreland, Our duty this way lies. For God’s sake, come. [_Exeunt Lancaster and Westmoreland._] PRINCE. 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. KING. I saw him hold Lord Percy at the point With lustier maintenance than I did look for Of such an ungrown warrior. PRINCE. O, this boy Lends mettle to us all! [_Exit._] Enter Douglas. 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?
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, and defend thyself. DOUGLAS. 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 Henry. PRINCE. 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. KING. Stay and breathe awhile. Thou hast redeem’d thy lost opinion, And show’d thou mak’st some tender of my life, In this fair rescue thou hast brought to me. PRINCE. 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 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.
FALSTAFF. Embowell’d! 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, with a new wound in your thigh, come you along with me. [_Takes Hotspur on his back._] Enter Prince Henry and Lancaster. PRINCE. Come, brother John, full bravely hast thou flesh’d Thy maiden sword. LANCASTER. But soft, whom have we here? Did you not tell me this fat man was dead?
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