fore, sirrah [stabbing him], with a new wound in your thigh, come you along with me.

[Takes HOTSPUR on his back.

Re-enter PRINCE HENRY and PRINCE JOHΝ.

P. Hen. Come, brother John, full bravely hast thou flesh'd

Thy maiden sword.
P. John.

But, soft! whom have we here?

Did you not tell me, this fat man was dead?

P. Hen. I did; I saw him dead, breathless and

bleeding

On the ground.—

Art thou alive? or is it phantasy

That plays upon our eyesight? I pr'ythee, speak; We will not trust our eyes, without our ears : Thou art not what thou seem'st.

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

P. Hen. Why, Percy I killed myself, and saw thee dead.

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

P. John. This is the strangest tale that e'er I heard.
P. Hen. This is the strangest fellow, brother John.

Come, bring your luggage nobly on your back:
For my part, if a lie may do thee grace,
I'll gild it with the happiest terms I have.

[A Retreat is sounded.

The trumpet sounds retreat, the day is ours.
Come, brother, let's to the highest of the field,
To see what friends are living, who are dead.

[Exeunt P. HEN. and P. JOHN.

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

[Exit, bearing off the Body.

SCENE V. Another Part of the Field.

The Trumpets sound. Enter KING HENRY, PRINCE HENRY, PRINCE JOHN, WESTMORELAND, and others, with WORCESTER, and VERNON, pri

soners.

K. Hen. Thus ever did rebellion find rebuke.-
Ill spirited Worcester! did we not send grace,
Pardon, and terms of love to all of you?
And would'st thou turn our offers contrary?
Misuse the tenor of thy kinsman's trust?
Three knights upon our party slain to-day,
A noble earl, and many a creature else,
Had been alive this hour,

If, like a christian, thou hadst truly borne
Betwixt our armies true intelligence.

Wor. What I have done, my safety urg'd me to;
And I embrace this fortune patiently,
Since not to be avoided it falls on me.

K. Hen. Bear Worcester to the death, and Ver

non too:

Other offenders we will pause upon.

[Exeunt WOR. and VERNON, guarded.

How goes the field?

P. Hen. The noble Scot, Lord Douglas, when he

saw

The fortune of the day quite turn'd from him,
The noble Percy slain, and all his men
Upon the foot of fear, fled with the rest;
And, falling from a hill, he was so bruis'd,
That the pursuers took him. At my tent
The Douglas is; and I beseech your grace,
I may dispose of him.

K. Hen.

With all my heart.

P. Hen. Then, brother John of Lancaster, to you

This honourable bounty shall belong:

Go to the Douglas, and deliver him

Up to his pleasure, ransomless, and free :
His valour, shown upon our crests to-day,
Hath taught us how to cherish such high deeds,
Even in the bosom of our adversaries.

Lan. I thank your grace for this high courtesy, Which I shall give away immediately.

K. Hen. Then this remains, that we divide our power.

You, son John, and my cousin Westmoreland, Towards York shall bend you, with your dearest

speed,

To meet Northumberland, and the prelate Scroop,
Who, as we hear, are busily in arms:
Myself, and you, son Harry, will towards Wales,
To fight with Glendower, and the earl of March.
Rebellion in this land shall lose his sway,
Meeting the check of such another day:
And since this business so fair is done,
Let us not leave till all our own be won.

[Exeunt.

Pistol. Sir John, thy tender lambkin now is king; Harry the Fifth's the man.

Act v. Sc. 3.