And talk so like a waiting-gentlewoman

Of guns and drums and wounds,-God save the mark!—

55

And telling me the sovereign'st thing on earth
Was parmaceti for an inward bruise;

And that it was great pity, so it was,

This villanous salt-petre should be digg'd
Out of the bowels of the harmless earth,
Which many a good tall fellow had destroy'd
So cowardly; and but for these vile guns,
He would himself have been a soldier.
This bald unjointed chat of his, my lord,
I answer'd indirectly, as I said;
And I beseech you, let not his report
Come current for an accusation

Betwixt my love and your high majesty.

Blunt. The circunstance consider'd, good my lord,
Whate'er Lord Harry Percy then had said
To such a person and in such a place,
At such a time, with all the rest retold,
May reasonably die and never rise
To do him wrong or any way impeach
What then he said, so he unsay it now.

King. Why, yet he doth deny his prisoners,

But with proviso and exception,

That we at our own charge shall ransom straight
His brother-in-law, the foolish Mortimer;
Who, on my soul, hath wilfully betray'd
The lives of those that he did lead to fight
Against that great magician, damn'd Glendower,
Whose daughter, as we hear, the Earl of March
Hath lately married. Shall our coffers, then,

Be emptied to redeem a traitor home?
Shall we buy treason? and indent with fears,
When they have lost and forfeited themselves?
No, on the barren mountains let him starve;
For I shall never hold that man my friend
Whose tongue shall ask me for one penny cost
To ransom home revolted Mortimer.

Hot. Revolted Mortimer!

He never did fall off, my sovereign liege,

(B 101)

D

95

But by the chance of war: to prove that true

Needs no more but one tongue for all those wounds,
Those mouthed wounds, which valiantly he took,
When on the gentle Severn's sedgy bank,

In single opposition, hand to hand,

100 He did confound the best part of an hour

In changing hardiment with great Glendower:

Three times they breathed and three times did they drink, Upon agreement, of swift Severn's flood;

Who then, affrighted with their bloody looks,

105 Ran fearfully among the trembling reeds,
And hid his crisp head in the hollow bank
Bloodstained with these valiant combatants.
Never did base and rotten policy

Colour her working with such deadly wounds; 110 Nor never could the noble Mortimer

Receive so many, and ail willingly:

Then let not him be slander'd with revolt.

King. Thou dost belle him, Percy, thou dost belie him; He never did encounter with Glendower:

15 I tell thee,

He durst as well have met the devil alone

As Owen Glendower for an enemy.

Art thou not ashamed? But, sirrah, henceforth
Let me not hear you speak of Mortimer:

120 Send me your prisoners with the speediest means,
Or you shall hear in such a kind from me

As will displease you. My Lord Northumberland,
We license your departure with your son.

Send us your prisoners, or you will hear of it.

[Exeunt King Henry, Blunt, and train

125 Hot. An if the devil come and roar for them,

130

I will not send them: I will after straight

And tell him so; for I will ease my heart,

Albeit I make a hazard of my head.

North. What, drunk with choler? stay and pause awhile:

Here comes your uncle.

Hot.

Re-enter WORCESTER

Speak of Mortimer!

'Zounds, I will speak of him; and let my soul Want mercy, if I do not join with him:

Yea, on his part I'll empty all these veins,

And shed my dear blood drop by drop in the dust,
But I will lift the down-trod Mortimer

135

As high in the air as this unthankful king,
As this ingrate and canker'd Bolingbroke.

North. Brother, the king hath made your nephew mad.
Wor. Who struck this heat up after I was gone?
Hot. He will, forsooth, have all my prisoners;

140

And when I urged the ransom once again

Of my wife's brother, then his cheek look'd pale,
And on my face he turn'd an eye of death,
Trembling even at the name of Mortimer.

Wor. I cannot blame him: was not he proclaim'd

145

By Richard that dead is the next of blood?
North. He was; I heard the proclamation:

And then it was when the unhappy king,

Whose wrongs in us God pardon!-did set forth
Upon his Irish expedition;

150

From whence he intercepted did return

To be deposed and shortly murdered.

Wor. And for whose death we in the world's wide mouth

Live scandalized and foully spoken of.

Hot. But, soft, I pray you; did King Richard then Proclaim my brother Edmund Mortimer

155

North.

He did; myself did hear it.

Heir to the crown?

Hot. Nay, then I cannot blame his cousin king,
That wish'd him on the barren mountains starve.

But shall it be, that you, that set the crown
Upon the head of this forgetful man

And for his sake wear the detested blot
Of murderous subornation, shall it be,

That you a world of curses undergo,

Being the agents, or base second means,

The cords, the ladder, or the hangman rather?

160

165

O, pardon me that I descend so low,

To show the line and the predicament
Wherein you range under this subtle king;
170 Shall it for shame be spoken in these days,
Or fill up chronicles in time to come,
That men of your nobility and power
Did gage them both in an unjust behalf,
As both of you-God pardon it!—have done,
175 To put down Richard, that sweet lovely rose,
And plant this thorn, this canker, Bolingbroke?
And shall it in more shame be further spoken,
That you are fool'd, discarded and shook off
By him for whom these shames ye underwent?
180 No; yet time serves wherein ye may redeem
Your banish'd honours and restore yourselves
Into the good thoughts of the world again,
Revenge the jeering and disdain'd contempt
Of this proud king, who studies day and night
185 To answer all the debt he owes to you

Even with the bloody payment of your deaths:
Therefore, I say,—

Wor.

Peace, cousin, say no more:
And now I will unclasp a secret book,

And to your quick-conceiving discontents
190 I 'll read you matter deep and dangerous,
As full of peril and adventurous spirit
As to o'er-walk a current roaring loud
On the unsteadfast footing of a spear.

Hot. If he fall in, good-night! or sink or swim:

195 Send danger from the east unto the west,
So honour cross it from the north to south,
And let them grapple: O, the blood more stirs
To rouse a lion than to start a hare!

North. Imagination of some great exploit 200 Drives him beyond the bounds of patience.

Hot. By heaven, methinks it were an easy leap, To pluck bright honour from the pale-faced moon, Or dive into the bottom of the deep,

Where fathom-line could never touch the ground, 205 And pluck up drowned honour by the locks;

So he that doth redeem her thence might wear
Without corrival all her dignities:

But out upon this half-faced fellowship!

Wor. He apprehends a world of figures here,
But not the form of what he should attend.
Good cousin, give me audience for a while.
Hot. I cry you mercy.
Wor.

Those same noble Scots

That are your prisoners,

Hot.

I'll keep them all;

By God, he shall not have a Scot of them;
No, if a Scot would save his soul, he shall not:
I'll keep them, by this hand.

Wor.

You start away

And lend no ear unto my purposes.
Those prisoners you shall keep.

Hot.

Nay, I will; that's flat:

He said he would not ransom Mortimer;
Forbad my tongue to speak of Mortimer;
But I will find him when he lies asleep,
And in his ear I'll holla "Mortimer!"

Nay,

I'll have a starling shall be taught to speak
Nothing but " Mortimer", and give it him,
To keep his anger still in motion.

Wor. Hear you, cousin; a word.

Hot. All studies here I solemnly defy,

210

215

220

225

Save how to gall and pinch this Bolingbroke:

And that same sword-and-buckler Prince of Wales,

230

But that I think his father loves him not

And would be glad he met with some mischance,

I would have him poison'd with a pot of ale.
Wor. Farewell, kinsman: I'll talk to you

When you are better temper'd to attend.

235

North. Why, what a wasp-stung and impatient fool

Art thou to break into this woman's mood,

Tying thine ear to no tongue but thine own!

Hot. Why, look you, I am whipp'd and scourged with

rods,

Nettled and stung with pismires, when I hear

240