The better part of Valour, is Discretion; in the
which better part, I haue saued my life. I am affraide of
this Gun-powder Percy though he be dead. How if hee
should counterfeit too, and rise? I am afraid hee would
proue the better counterfeit: therefore Ile make him sure:
yea, and Ile sweare I kill'd him. Why may not hee rise as
well as I: Nothing confutes me but eyes, and no-bodie
sees me. Therefore sirra, with a new wound in your thigh
come you along me.
Takes Hotspurre on his backe.
Enter Prince and Iohn of Lancaster.
Prin. Come Brother Iohn, full brauely hast thou flesht
thy Maiden sword
Iohn. But soft, who haue we heere?
Did you not tell me this Fat man was dead?
Prin. I did, I saw him dead,
Breathlesse, and bleeding on the ground: Art thou aliue?
Or is it fantasie that playes vpon our eye-sight?
I prethee speake, we will not trust our eyes
Without our eares. Thou art not what thou seem'st
Fal. No, that's certaine: I am not a double man: but
if I be not Iacke Falstaffe, then am I a Iacke: There is Percy,
if your Father will do me any Honor, so: if not, let him
kill the next Percie himselfe.
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