I fear thou art another counterfeit;
And yet, in faith, thou bear'st thee like a king:
But mine I am sure thou art, whoe'er thou be,
And thus I win thee.

Another king! they grow like Hydra's heads:
I am the Douglas, fatal to all those
That wear those colours on them: what art thou,
That counterfeit'st the person of a king?

Now, by my sword, I will kill all his coats;
I'll murder all his wardrobe, piece by piece,
Until I meet the king.

A fool go with thy soul, whither it goes!
A borrow'd title hast thou bought too dear:
Why didst thou tell me that thou wert a king?

Here.

All's done, all's won; here breathless lies the king.

The Lord of Stafford dear to-day hath bought
Thy likeness, for instead of thee, King Harry,
This sword hath ended him: so shall it thee,
Unless thou yield thee as my prisoner.

Know then, my name is Douglas;
And I do haunt thee in the battle thus
Because some tell me that thou art a king.

Arm, gentlemen; to arms! for I have thrown
A brave defiance in King Henry's teeth,
And Westmoreland, that was engaged, did bear it;
Which cannot choose but bring him quickly on.

Marry, and shall, and very willingly.

Defy him by the Lord of Westmoreland.

Yea, or to-night.

You do not counsel well:
You speak it out of fear and cold heart.

You give him then the advantage.

Talk not of dying: I am out of fear
Of death or death's hand for this one-half year.

That's the worst tidings that I hear of yet.

As heart can think: there is not such a word
Spoke of in Scotland as this term of fear.

'Faith, and so we should;
Where now remains a sweet reversion:
We may boldly spend upon the hope of what
Is to come in:
A comfort of retirement lives in this.

Thou art the king of honour:
No man so potent breathes upon the ground
But I will beard him.