Blunt.
What is thy name, that in the ^note battle thus
Thou ^note crossest ^note me? what ^note honour dost thou seek
Upon my head? ^note

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 ^note.

Blunt.
They tell thee true.

Doug.
The Lord of Stafford dear ^note 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 ^note prisoner.

Blunt.
I was not born a yielder, thou proud ^note Scot ^note;
And thou shalt find a king that will revenge
Lord ^note Stafford's death. [They fight. Douglas kills Blunt. Enter Hotspur. ^note

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

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

Hot.
Where?

Doug.
Here.

Hot.
This, Douglas? no: I know this face ^note full well:
A gallant knight he was, his name was Blunt;
Semblably furnish'd like the king himself.

Doug.
A fool go ^note with thy soul, whither ^note it goes!
A borrowed ^note title hast thou bought too dear:
Why didst thou tell me that thou wert a king?

Hot.
The king hath many marching ^note 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. Alarum ^note. Enter Falstaff, solus.

Fal.

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? ^note Sir Walter Blunt: there's honour for you! here's no vanity! I am as hot as molten lead, and as heavy too: God ^note keep lead out of me! I need no more weight than mine own bowels. I have led my ragamuffins ^note where they are peppered: there's not three ^note of my hundred and fifty ^note left alive; and they are ^note for the town's end, to beg during life. But who comes here?

Prince.
What, stand'st ^note thou idle here? lend me thy sword:
Many a nobleman ^note lies stark and stiff
Under the hoofs of vaunting enemies,
Whose deaths are yet ^note unrevenged: I prithee ^note, lend me ^note thy sword. ^note

Fal.

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. ^note

Prince.

He is, indeed; and living to kill thee ^note. I prithee, lend ^note me thy sword.

Fal.

Nay, before God, Hal ^note, if Percy be alive, thou get'st ^note not my sword; but take my pistol, if thou wilt.

Prince.

Give it me: what, is it ^note in the case?

Fal.

Ay, Hal; 'tis hot, 'tis hot ^note; there's that will sack a city.

Prince.

What, is it ^note a time to jest and dally now?

Fal.

Well, ^note if Percy be alive, I'll ^note pierce him. If he do come in my way, so: ^note if he do not, if I come in his willingly, ^note 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.