Blunt, meeting.
Blunt.
What is thy name, that in the battle8 note thus
Thou crossest me? what honour dost thou seek
Upon my head?
Doug.
Know then, my name is Douglas;
And I do haunt thee in the battle thus,
Because some tell me that thou art a king.
Blunt.
They tell thee true.
Doug.
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,
Unless thou yield thee as my prisoner.
Blunt.
I was not born a yielder, thou proud Scot9 note
;
And thou shalt find a king that will revenge
Lord Stafford's death.
[They fight, and Blunt is slain.
Enter Hotspur.
Hot.
O Douglas, hadst thou fought at Holmedon thus,
I never had triúmph'd upon a Scot.
Doug.
All's done, all's won; here breathless lies the king.
-- 394 --
Hot.
Where?
Doug.
Here.
Hot.
This, Douglas? no, I know this face full well:
A gallant knight he was, his name was Blunt;
Semblably furnish'd like the king himself1 note
.
Doug.
A fool go with thy soul, whither it goes2 note
!
A borrow'd title hast thou bought too dear.
Why didst thou tell me that thou wert a king?
Hot.
The king hath many marching in his coats.
Doug.
Now, by my sword, I will kill all his coats;
I'll murder all his wardrobe, piece by piece,
Until I meet the king.
Hot.
Up, and away;
Our soldiers stand full fairly for the day.
[Exeunt.
-- 395 --
Other Alarums. Enter Falstaff.
Fal.
Though I could 'scape shot-free at London3 note
,
I fear the shot here; here's no scoring, but
upon the pate.—Soft! who art thou? Sir Walter
Blunt;—there's honour for you: Here's no vanity4 note
!
—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
raggamuffins where they are peppered: there's but
three of my hundred and fifty5 note
left alive; and they
-- 396 --
are for the town's end, to beg during life. But who
comes here?
Enter Prince Henry.
P. Hen.
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 unreveng'd: I pr'ythee, lend me thy sword6 note
.
Fal.
O Hal, I pr'ythee, give me leave to breathe
a while.—Turk Gregory never did such deeds in
arms7 note
, as I have done this day. I have paid Percy,
I have made him sure.
P. Hen.
He is, indeed; and living to kill thee8 note
.
I pr'ythee lend me thy sword.
-- 397 --
Fal.
Nay, before God, Hal, if Percy be alive,
thou get'st not my sword; but take my pistol, if
thou wilt.
P. Hen.
Give it me: What, is it in the case?
Fal.
Ay, Hal; 'tis hot, 'tis hot; there's that
will sack a city9 note
.
[The Prince draws out a bottle of sack1 note
.
P. Hen.
What, is't a time to jest and dally now?
[Throws it at him, and exit.
Fal.
Well, if Percy be alive, I'll pierce him2 note
. If
-- 398 --
he do come in my way, so: if he do not, if I come
in his, willingly, let him make a carbonado of me3 note
.
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.
James Boswell [1821], The plays and poems of William Shakspeare, with the corrections and illustrations of various commentators: comprehending A Life of the Poet, and an enlarged history of the stage, by the late Edmond Malone. With a new glossarial index (J. Deighton and Sons, Cambridge) [word count] [S10201].
