1    I prithee,
2    Harry, withdraw thyself; thou bleed'st too much.
3    Lord John of Lancaster, go you with him.

4    Not I, my lord, unless I did bleed too.

5    I beseech your majesty, make up,
6    Lest your retirement do amaze your friends.

7    I will do so.
8    My Lord of Westmoreland, lead him to his tent.

9    Come, my lord, I'll lead you to your tent.

10   Lead me, my lord? I do not need your help:
11   And God forbid a shallow scratch should drive
12   The Prince of Wales from such a field as this,
13   Where stain'd nobility lies trodden on,
14   and rebels' arms triumph in massacres!

15   We breathe too long: come, cousin Westmoreland,
16   Our duty this way lies; for God's sake come.

17   By God, thou hast deceived me, Lancaster;
18   I did not think thee lord of such a spirit:
19   Before, I loved thee as a brother, John;
20   But now, I do respect thee as my soul.

21   I saw him hold Lord Percy at the point
22   With lustier maintenance than I did look for
23   Of such an ungrown warrior.

24   O, this boy
25   Lends mettle to us all!

26   Another king! they grow like Hydra's heads:
27   I am the Douglas, fatal to all those
28   That wear those colours on them: what art thou,
29   That counterfeit'st the person of a king?

30   The king himself; who, Douglas, grieves at heart
31   So many of his shadows thou hast met
32   And not the very king. I have two boys
33   Seek Percy and thyself about the field:
34   But, seeing thou fall'st on me so luckily,
35   I will assay thee: so, defend thyself.

36   I fear thou art another counterfeit;
37   And yet, in faith, thou bear'st thee like a king:
38   But mine I am sure thou art, whoe'er thou be,
39   And thus I win thee.

40   Hold up thy head, vile Scot, or thou art like
41   Never to hold it up again! the spirits
42   Of valiant Shirley, Stafford, Blunt, are in my arms:
43   It is the Prince of Wales that threatens thee;
44   Who never promiseth but he means to pay.
They fight: DOUGLAS flies
45   Cheerly, my lord how fares your grace?
46   Sir Nicholas Gawsey hath for succor sent,
47   And so hath Clifton: I'll to Clifton straight.

48   Stay, and breathe awhile:
49   Thou hast redeem'd thy lost opinion,
50   And show'd thou makest some tender of my life,
51   In this fair rescue thou hast brought to me.

52   O God! they did me too much injury
53   That ever said I hearken'd for your death.
54   If it were so, I might have let alone
55   The insulting hand of Douglas over you,
56   Which would have been as speedy in your end
57   As all the poisonous potions in the world
58   And saved the treacherous labour of your son.

59   Make up to Clifton: I'll to Sir Nicholas Gawsey.

60   If I mistake not, thou art Harry Monmouth.

61   Thou speak'st as if I would deny my name.

62   My name is Harry Percy.

63   Why, then I see
64   A very valiant rebel of the name.
65   I am the Prince of Wales; and think not, Percy,
66   To share with me in glory any more:
67   Two stars keep not their motion in one sphere;
68   Nor can one England brook a double reign,
69   Of Harry Percy and the Prince of Wales.

70   Nor shall it, Harry; for the hour is come
71   To end the one of us; and would to God
72   Thy name in arms were now as great as mine!

73   I'll make it greater ere I part from thee;
74   And all the budding honours on thy crest
75   I'll crop, to make a garland for my head.

76   I can no longer brook thy vanities.

77   Well said, Hal! to it Hal! Nay, you shall find no
78   boy's play here, I can tell you.

79   O, Harry, thou hast robb'd me of my youth!
80   I better brook the loss of brittle life
81   Than those proud titles thou hast won of me;
82   They wound my thoughts worse than sword my flesh:
83   But thought's the slave of life, and life time's fool;
84   And time, that takes survey of all the world,
85   Must have a stop. O, I could prophesy,
86   But that the earthy and cold hand of death
87   Lies on my tongue: no, Percy, thou art dust
88   And food for--

89   For worms, brave Percy: fare thee well, great heart!
90   Ill-weaved ambition, how much art thou shrunk!
91   When that this body did contain a spirit,
92   A kingdom for it was too small a bound;
93   But now two paces of the vilest earth
94   Is room enough: this earth that bears thee dead
95   Bears not alive so stout a gentleman.
96   If thou wert sensible of courtesy,
97   I should not make so dear a show of zeal:
98   But let my favours hide thy mangled face;
99   And, even in thy behalf, I'll thank myself
100  For doing these fair rites of tenderness.
101  Adieu, and take thy praise with thee to heaven!
102  Thy ignominy sleep with thee in the grave,
103  But not remember'd in thy epitaph!
He spieth FALSTAFF on the ground
104  What, old acquaintance! could not all this flesh
105  Keep in a little life? Poor Jack, farewell!
106  I could have better spared a better man:
107  O, I should have a heavy miss of thee,
108  If I were much in love with vanity!
109  Death hath not struck so fat a deer to-day,
110  Though many dearer, in this bloody fray.
111  Embowell'd will I see thee by and by:
112  Till then in blood by noble Percy lie.

Rising up
113   Embowelled! if thou embowel me to-day,
114  I'll give you leave to powder me and eat me too
115  to-morrow. 'Sblood,'twas time to counterfeit, or
116  that hot termagant Scot had paid me scot and lot too.
117  Counterfeit? I lie, I am no counterfeit: to die,
118  is to be a counterfeit; for he is but the
119  counterfeit of a man who hath not the life of a man:
120  but to counterfeit dying, when a man thereby
121  liveth, is to be no counterfeit, but the true and
122  perfect image of life indeed. The better part of
123  valour is discretion; in the which better part I
124  have saved my life.'Zounds, I am afraid of this
125  gunpowder Percy, though he be dead: how, if he
126  should counterfeit too and rise? by my faith, I am
127  afraid he would prove the better counterfeit.
128  Therefore I'll make him sure; yea, and I'll swear I
129  killed him. Why may not he rise as well as I?
130  Nothing confutes me but eyes, and nobody sees me.
131  Therefore, sirrah,
Stabbing him
132  with a new wound in your thigh, come you along with me.

133  Come, brother John; full bravely hast thou flesh'd
134  Thy maiden sword.

135  But, soft! whom have we here?
136  Did you not tell me this fat man was dead?

137  I did; I saw him dead,
138  Breathless and bleeding on the ground. Art
139  thou alive?
140  Or is it fantasy that plays upon our eyesight?
141  I prithee, speak; we will not trust our eyes
142  Without our ears: thou art not what thou seem'st.

143  No, that's certain; I am not a double man: but if I
144  be not Jack Falstaff, then am I a Jack. There is Percy:
Throwing the body down
145  if your father will do me any honour, so; if not, let
146  him kill the next Percy himself. I look to be either
147  earl or duke, I can assure you.

148  Why, Percy I killed myself and saw thee dead.

149  Didst thou? Lord, Lord, how this world is given to
150  lying! I grant you I was down and out of breath;
151  and so was he: but we rose both at an instant and
152  fought a long hour by Shrewsbury clock. If I may be
153  believed, so; if not, let them that should reward
154  valour bear the sin upon their own heads. I'll take
155  it upon my death, I gave him this wound in the
156  thigh: if the man were alive and would deny it,
157  'zounds, I would make him eat a piece of my sword.

158  This is the strangest tale that ever I heard.

159  This is the strangest fellow, brother John.
160  Come, bring your luggage nobly on your back:
161  For my part, if a lie may do thee grace,
162  I'll gild it with the happiest terms I have.
A retreat is sounded
163  The trumpet sounds retreat; the day is ours.
164  Come, brother, let us to the highest of the field,
165  To see what friends are living, who are dead.

166  I'll follow, as they say, for reward. He that
167  rewards me, God reward him! If I do grow great,
168  I'll grow less; for I'll purge, and leave sack, and
169  live cleanly as a nobleman should do.