Blu. What is thy name, that in battel thus y crossest me?
What honor dost thou seeke vpon my head?
Dow. Know then my name is Dowglas,
And I do haunt thee in the Battell thus,
Because some tell me, that thou art a King
Blunt. They tell thee true
Dow. The Lord of Stafford deere to day hath bought
Thy likenesse: for insted of thee King Harry,
This Sword hath ended him, so shall it thee,
Vnlesse thou yeeld thee as a Prisoner
Blu. I was not borne to yeeld, thou haughty Scot,
And thou shalt finde a King that will reuenge
Lords Staffords death.
Fight, Blunt is slaine, then enters Hotspur.
Hot. O Dowglas, hadst thou fought at Holmedon thus
I neuer had triumphed o're a Scot
Dow. All's done, all's won, here breathles lies the king
Hot. Where?
Dow. Heere
Hot. This Dowglas? No, I know this face full well:
A gallant Knight he was, his name was Blunt,
Semblably furnish'd like the King himselfe
Dow. Ah foole: go with thy soule whether it goes,
A borrowed Title hast thou bought too deere.
Why didst thou tell me, that thou wer't a King?
Hot. The King hath many marching in his Coats
Dow. Now by my Sword, I will kill all his Coates,
Ile murder all his Wardrobe peece by peece,
Vntill I meet the King