Document:  All > Shakespeare > Histories > King Henry IV, part I > Act V, scene III

	[KING HENRY enters with his power. Alarum to the
	battle. Then enter DOUGLAS and SIR WALTER BLUNT]

SIR WALTER BLUNT: What is thy name, that in the battle thus
	Thou crossest me? what honour dost thou seek
	Upon my head?

EARL OF DOUGLAS:                   Know then, my name is Douglas;
	And I do haunt thee in the battle thus
	Because some tell me that thou art a king.

SIR WALTER BLUNT: They tell thee true.

EARL OF DOUGLAS: 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.

SIR WALTER BLUNT: I was not born a yielder, thou proud Scot;
	And thou shalt find a king that will revenge
	Lord Stafford's death.

	[They fight. DOUGLAS kills SIR WALTER BLUNT.

HOTSPUR: O Douglas, hadst thou fought at Holmedon thus,
	never had triumph'd upon a Scot.

EARL OF DOUGLAS: All's done, all's won; here breathless lies the king.



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

EARL OF DOUGLAS: A fool go with thy soul, whither it goes!
	A borrow'd title hast thou bought too dear:
	Why didst thou tell me that thou wert a king?

HOTSPUR: The king hath many marching in his coats.

EARL OF DOUGLAS: Now, by my sword, I will kill all his coats;
	I'll murder all his wardrobe, piece by piece,
	Until I meet the king.

HOTSPUR: Up, and away!
	Our soldiers stand full fairly for the day.


	[Alarum. Enter FALSTAFF, solus]

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


PRINCE HENRY: 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 yet unrevenged: I prithee,
	lend me thy sword.

FALSTAFF: 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.

PRINCE HENRY: He is, indeed; and living to kill thee. I prithee,
	lend me thy sword.

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

PRINCE HENRY: Give it to me: what, is it in the case?

FALSTAFF: Ay, Hal; 'tis hot, 'tis hot; there's that will sack a city.

	[PRINCE HENRY draws it out, and finds it to be a
	bottle of sack]

PRINCE HENRY: What, is it a time to jest and dally now?

	[He throws the bottle at him. Exit]

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



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