as I have done this day. 3 I have paid Percy, I have made him fure. P. Henry. He is, indeed, and living to kill thee: I pr'ythee, lend me thy fword. Fal. Nay, Hal, if Percy be alive, thou get'ft not my fword; but take my piftol, if thou wilt. P. Henry. Give it me. city. What, is it in the cafe? and finds it a bottle of fack. [The prince draws it out, P. Henry. What, is it a time to jeft and dally now? [Throws it at him, and exit. Fal. 5 If Percy be alive, I'll pierce him. If he do come in my way, fo; if he do not, if I come in his, willingly, let him make a carbonado of me. I like not fuch grinning honour as Sir Walter hath give furmounted almoft invincible obftacles to deprive the emperor of his right of inveftiture of bifhops, which his predecefors had long attempted in vain. Fox, in his hiftory, had made this Gregory fo odious, that I don't doubt but the good Protestants of that time were well pleased to hear him thus characterized, as uniting the attributes of their two great enemies, the Turk and Pope, in one. WARBURTON. 3 I have paid Percy, I have made him fure. P. Henry. He is, indeed, and, &c.] The prince's anfwer, which is apparently connected with Falstaff's laft words, does not cohere fo well as if the knight had said, I have made him fure; Percy's fafe enough. Perhaps a word or two like these may be loft. JOHNSON. fack a city.] A quibble on the word fack. JOHNSON. If Percy be alive, I'll pierce him.] Certainly, he'll pierce bim, i. e. Prince Henry will, who is just gone out to seek him. Befides, I'll pierce him, contradicts the whole turn and humour of the fpeech. WARBURTON. I rather take the conceit to be this. To pierce a vessel is to tap it. Falstaff takes up his bottle which the prince had toffed as his head, and being about to animate himself with a draught, cries, if Percy be alive, I'll pierce him, and fo draws the cork. I do not propofe this with much confidence. JOHNSON. 6 a carbonado of me.] A carbonado is a piece of meat cut cross-wife for the gridiron. JOHNSON. VOL. V. Ꮓ me me life, which if I can fave, fo: if not, honour comes unlook'd for, and there's an end. SCENE IV. [Exit. Alarm, excurfions. Enter the king, the prince, lord John of Lancaster, and the earl of Westmorland. K. Henry. Harry, withdraw thyfelf; thou bleed'it too much: Lord John of Lancafter, go you with him. My lord of Weftmorland, lead him to his tent. help; And heaven forbid, a fhallow fcratch fhould drive And rebels arms triumph in maffacres ! Lan. We breathe too long. Come, coufin Weft morland, Our duty this way lies; for heaven's fake, come. [Exeunt P. John and Weft. P. Henry. By heaven, thou haft deceiv'd me, Lan cafter; I did not think thee lord of fuch a fpirit: K. Henry, I faw him hold lord Percy at the point, With luftier maintenance than I did look for Of fuch an ungrown warrior. P. Henry. Oh, this boy Lends mettle to us all! [Exit. Enter Enter Douglas. Doug. Another king!-they grow, like Hydra's heads. I am the Douglas, fatal to all thofe That wear thofe colours on them.- What art thou, K. Henry. The king himfelf; who, Douglas, grieves So many of his fhadows thou haft met, Doug. I fear, thou art another countefeit:" [They fight, the king being in danger. Enter prince Henry. P. Henry. Hold up thy head, vile Scot, or thou art like Never to hold it up again! the fpirits Of valiant Shirley, Stafford, Blunt, are in my arms. [They fight, Douglas flyeth. K. Henry. Stay, and breathe a-while:- P. Henry. O heaven! they did me too much injury, If it were fo, I might have let alone Enter Hotspur. Hot. If I mistake not, thou art Harry Monmouth. name. Hot. My name is Harry Percy. A very valiant rebel of that name. I am the prince of Wales: and think not, Percy, Two ftars keep not their motion in one sphere; Hot. Nor fhall it, Harry; for the hour is come Enter Falstaff. [Fight. Fal. Well faid, Hal! to it, Hal!-Nay, you fhall find no boy's play here, I can tell you. Enter Douglas, be fights with Falstaff, who falls down as if he were dead. Percy is wounded, and falls. Hot. O, Harry, thou haft robb'd me of my youth: I better brook the lofs of brittle life, Than Than those proud titles thou haft won of me; flesh : But thought's the flave of life, and life time's fool; [Dies. P. Henry. For worms, brave Percy. Fare thee well, great heart! 3 Ill-weav❜d ambition, how much art thou shrunk! When that this body did contain a spirit, 9 A kingdom for it was too fmall a bound: But now, two paces of the vileft earth Is room enough. This earth, that bears thee dead, Bears not alive fo ftout a gentleman. If thou wert fenfible of courtesy, I should not make fo great a fhow of zeal : But let my favours hide thy mangled face, And, even in thy behalf, I thank myself. 7 thofe proud titles thou hast won of me; They wound my thoughts, But thought's the flave of life, and life time's fool; And timemust have a flop.] Hotfpur in his last moments endeavours to confole himself. The glory of the prince wounds his thoughts; but thought, being dependent on life, muft ceafe with it, and will foon be at an end. Life, on which thought depends, is itself of no great value, being the fool and fport of time; of time, which, with all its dominion over fublunary things, muft itself at last be stopped. JOHNSON. Il-weav'd ambition, &c.] A metaphor taken from cloth, which fhrinks when it is ill-weav'd, when its texture is loofe. JOHNSON. 9 A kingdom, &c.] Carminibus confide bonis-jacet ecce Tibullus Vix manet e toto parva quod urna capit. Ovid. JOHNSON. But let my favours hide thy mangled face,] We fhould read favour, face or countenance. He stooping down here to kifs Hotfpur. WARBURTON. He rather covers his face with a scarf, to hide the ghaftliness of death. JOHNSON. |