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
Hot. Vp, and away,
Our Souldiers stand full fairely for the day.
Exeunt.
Alarum, and enter Falstaffe solus.
Fal. Though I could scape shot-free at London, I fear the shot heere: here's no scoring, but vpon the pate. Soft who are you? Sir Walter Blunt, there's Honour for you: here's no vanity, I am as hot as molten Lead, and as heauy too; heauen keepe Lead out of mee, I neede no more weight then mine owne Bowelles. I haue led my rag of Muffins where they are pepper'd: there's not three of my 150. left aliue, and they for the Townes end, to beg during life. But who comes heere? Enter the Prince