But mine I am sure thou art, whoe'er thou be,
And thus I win thee.
They fight. The King being
in danger, enter Prince.
Prince. Hold up thy head, vile Scot, or thou art like
Never to hold it up again! the spirits 40
Of valiant Shirley, Stafford, Blunt, are in my arms:
It is the Prince of Wales that threatens thee,
Who never promiseth but he means to pay.
Cheerly, my lord: how fares your Grace? 44
Sir Nicholas Gawsey hath for succour sent,
And so hath Clifton: I'll to Clifton straight.
King. Stay, and breathe awhile.
Thou hast redeem'd thy lost opinion, 48
And show'd thou mak'st some tender of my life,
In this fair rescue thou hast brought to me.
Prince. O God! they did me too much injury
That ever said I hearken'd for your death. 52
If it were so, I might have let alone
The insulting hand of Douglas over you;
Which would have been as speedy in your end
As all the poisonous potions in the world, 56
And sav'd the treacherous labour of your son.
King. Make up to Clifton: I'll to Sir Nicholas Gawsey. Exit.
Enter Hotspur.
Hot. If I mistake not, thou art Harry Monmouth.
Prince. Thou speak'st as if I would deny my name. 60
Hot. My name is Harry Percy.
49 mak'st some tender: hast some regard for
52 hearken'd for: watched for, desired
