West. Come my Lord, Ile leade you to your Tent
Prin. Lead me my Lord? I do not need your helpe; And heauen forbid a shallow scratch should driue The Prince of Wales from such a field as this, Where stain'd Nobility lyes troden on, And Rebels Armes triumph in massacres
Ioh. We breath too long: Come cosin Westmerland, Our duty this way lies, for heauens sake come
Prin. By heauen thou hast deceiu'd me Lancaster, I did not thinke thee Lord of such a spirit: Before, I lou'd thee as a Brother, Iohn; But now, I do respect thee as my Soule
King. I saw him hold Lord Percy at the point, With lustier maintenance then I did looke for Of such an vngrowne Warriour
Prin. O this Boy, lends mettall to vs all. Enter.
Dow. Another King? They grow like Hydra's heads: I am the Dowglas, fatall to all those That weare those colours on them. What art thou That counterfeit'st the person of a King? King. The King himselfe: who Dowglas grieues at hart So many of his shadowes thou hast met, And not the very King. I haue two Boyes Seeke Percy and thy selfe about the Field: But seeing thou fall'st on me so luckily, I will assay thee: so defend thy selfe
Dow. I feare thou art another counterfeit: And yet infaith thou bear'st thee like a King: But mine I am sure thou art, whoere thou be, And thus I win thee.
They fight, the K[ing]. being in danger, Enter Prince.
Prin. Hold vp thy head vile Scot, or thou art like Neuer to hold it vp againe: the Spirits Of valiant Sherly, Stafford, Blunt, are in my Armes; it is the Prince of Wales that threatens thee, Who neuer promiseth, but he meanes to pay.
They Fight, Dowglas flyeth.
Cheerely My Lord: how fare's your Grace? Sir Nicolas Gawsey hath for succour sent, And so hath Clifton: Ile to Clifton straight
King. Stay, and breath awhile. Thou hast redeem'd thy lost opinion, And shew'd thou mak'st some tender of my life In this faire rescue thou hast brought to mee
Prin. O heauen, they did me too much iniury, That euer said I hearkned to your death. If it were so, I might haue let alone The insulting hand of Dowglas ouer you, Which would haue bene as speedy in your end, As all the poysonous Potions in the world, And sau'd the Treacherous labour of your Sonne
K. Make vp to Clifton, Ile to Sir Nicholas Gausey.
Hot. If I mistake not, thou art Harry Monmouth
Prin. Thou speak'st as if I would deny my name
Hot. My name is Harrie Percie
Prin. Why then I see a very valiant rebel of that name. I am the Prince of Wales, and thinke not Percy, To share with me in glory any more: Two Starres keepe not their motion in one Sphere, Nor can one England brooke a double reigne, Of Harry Percy, and the Prince of Wales
Hot. Nor shall it Harry, for the houre is come To end the one of vs; and would to heauen, Thy name in Armes, were now as great as mine
Prin. Ile make it greater, ere I part from thee, And all the budding Honors on thy Crest, Ile crop, to make a Garland for my head
Hot. I can no longer brooke thy Vanities.
Fal. Well said Hal, to it Hal. Nay you shall finde no Boyes play heere, I can tell you. Enter Dowglas, he fights with Falstaffe, who fals down as if he were dead. The Prince killeth Percie.