To share with me in glory any more:
Two stars keep not their motion in one sphere;
Nor can one England brook a double reign,
Of Harry Percy and the Prince of Wales.
Hot. Nor shall it, Harry; for the hour is come

To end the one of us; and would to God
Thy name in arms were now as great as mine!
Prince. I'll make it greater ere I part from thee;
And all the budding honours on thy crest
I'll crop, to make a garland for my head.
Hot. I can no longer brook thy vanities.

70

[They fight.

Enter Falstaff.

Fal. Well said, Hal! to it, Hal!

Nay, you shall find

no boy's play here, I can tell you.

Re-enter Douglas; he fights with Falstaff, who falls down as if he were dead, and exit Douglas. Hotspur is wounded, and falls.

Hot. O, Harry, thou hast robb'd me of my youth!
I better brook the loss of brittle life

Than those proud titles thou hast won of me;
They wound my thoughts worse than thy sword my

flesh:

8

But thought 's the slave of life, and life time's fool;
And time, that takes survey of all the world,
Must have a stop. O, I could prophesy,
But that the earthy and cold hand of death
Lies on my tongue: no, Percy, thou art dust,
And food for-

[Dies.

Prince. For worms, brave Percy; fare thee well, great

heart!

Ill-weaved ambition, how much art thou shrunk!
When that this body did contain a spirit,

A kingdom for it was too small a bound;
But now two paces of the vilest earth

Is room enough: this earth that bears thee dead
Bears not alive so stout a gentleman.
If thou wert sensible of courtesy,

I should not make so dear a show of zeal:
But let my favours hide thy mangled face;
And, even in thy behalf, I'll thank myself
For doing these fair rites of tenderness.
Adieu, and take thy praise with thee to heaven!
Thy ignomy sleep with thee in the grave,

But not remember'd in thy epitaph!

90

100

[He spieth Falstaff on the ground. What, old acquaintance! could not all this flesh

Keep in a little life? Poor Jack, farewell!

[Exit. 110

I could have better spared a better man: O, I should have a heavy miss of thee, If I were much in love with vanity! Death hath not struck so fat a deer to-day, Though many dearer, in this bloody fray. Embowell'd will I see thee by and by: Till then in blood by noble Percy lie. Fal. [Rising up] Embowelled! if thou embowel me to-day, I'll give you leave to powder me and eat me too to-morrow. 'Sblood 'twas time to counterfeit, or that hot termagant Scot had paid me scot and lot too. Counterfeit? I lie, I am no counterfeit: to die, is to be a counterfeit; for he is but the counterfeit of a man who hath not the life of a man: but to counterfeit dying, when

Fal. "The better part of valour is discretion; in the which better part

I have saved my life."

King Henry IV., P. 1. Act 5, Scene 4.