Hot. Speak of130
'Zounds, I will speak of him; and let my soul[2157]
Want mercy, if I do not join with him:
Yea, on his part I'll empty all these veins,[2158]
And shed my dear blood drop by drop in the dust,[2159]
But I will lift the down-trod Mortimer[2160]135
As high in the air as this unthankful king,[2161]
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[2162]145
By Richard that dead is the next of blood?[2163]
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.[2164]
Hot. But, soft, I pray you; did King Richard then155
Proclaim my brother Edmund Mortimer[2165]
Heir to the crown?
North. He did; myself did hear it.
Hot. Nay, then I cannot blame his cousin king,
That wish'd him on the barren mountains starve.[2166]
But shall it be, that you, that set the crown160
Upon the head of this forgetful man
And for his sake wear the detested blot[2167]
Of murderous subornation, shall it be,[2168]
That you a world of curses undergo,
Being the agents, or base second means,165
The cords, the ladder, or the hangman rather?[2169]
O, pardon me that I descend so low,[2170]
To show the line and the predicament
Wherein you range under this subtle king;
Shall it for shame be spoken in these days,170
Or fill up chronicles in time to come,
That men of your nobility and power
Did gage them both in an unjust behalf,[2171]
As both of you—God pardon it!—have done,
To put down Richard, that sweet lovely rose,175
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?
No; yet time serves wherein you may redeem180
Your banish'd honours and restore yourselves[2172]
Into the good thoughts of the world again,
Revenge the jeering and disdain'd contempt
Of this proud king, who studies day and night
To answer all the debt he owes to you[2173]185
Even with the bloody payment of your deaths:[2174]
Therefore, I say,—
Wor. Peace, cousin, say no more:
And now I will unclasp a secret book,[2175]
And to your quick-conceiving discontents[2176]
I'll read you matter deep and dangerous,[2177]190
As full of peril and adventurous spirit
As to o'er-walk a current roaring loud[2178]
On the unsteadfast footing of a spear.[2179]
Hot. If he fall in, good night! or sink or swim:[2180]
Send danger from the east unto the west,195
So honour cross it from the north to south,[2181]
And let them grapple: O, the blood more stirs[2182]
To rouse a lion than to start a hare!
North. Imagination of some great exploit
Drives him beyond the bounds of patience.200
Hot. By heaven, methinks it were an easy leap,[2183]
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,
And pluck up drowned honour by the locks;205
So he that doth redeem her thence might wear
Without corrival all her dignities:[2184]
But out upon this half-faced fellowship!
Wor. He apprehends a world of figures here,
But not the form of what he should attend.[2185]210
Good cousin, give me audience for a while.[2186]
Hot. I cry you mercy.
Wor. Those same noble Scots[2187]
That are your prisoners,—[2187]
Hot. I'll keep them all;
By God, he shall not have a Scot of them;[2188]
No, if a Scot would save his soul, he shall not:215
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:[2189]
He said he would not ransom Mortimer;
Forbad my tongue to speak of Mortimer;220
But I will find him when he lies asleep,
And in his ear I'll holla 'Mortimer!'[2190]
Nay,[2191]
I'll have a starling shall be taught to speak[2191]
Nothing but 'Mortimer,' and give it him,[2192]225
To keep his anger still in motion.
Wor. Hear you, cousin; a word.[2193]
Hot. All studies here I solemnly defy,
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.[2194]
Wor. Farewell, kinsman: I'll talk to you[2195]
When you are better temper'd to attend.235
North. Why, what a wasp-stung and impatient fool[2196]
Art thou to break into this woman's mood,
Tying thine ear to no tongue but thine own![2197]
Hot. Why, look you, I am whipp'd and scourged with rods,
Nettled, and stung with pismires, when I hear240
Of this vile politician, Bolingbroke.
In Richard's time,—what do you call the place?—[2198]
A plague upon it, it is in Gloucestershire;[2199]
'Twas where the madcap duke his uncle kept.
His uncle York; where I first bow'd my knee245
Unto this king of smiles, this Bolingbroke,—[2200]
'Sblood!—[2201]
When you and he came back from Ravenspurgh.
North. At Berkley-castle.
Hot. You say true:250
Why, what a candy deal of courtesy[2202]
This fawning greyhound then did proffer me![2203]
Look, 'when his infant fortune came to age,'[2204]
And 'gentle Harry Percy,' and 'kind cousin;'
O, the devil take such cozeners! God forgive me![2205]255
Good uncle, tell your tale; I have done.[2206][2207]
Hot. I have done, i' faith.[2210]
Wor. Then once more to your Scottish prisoners.
Deliver them up without their ransom straight,260
And make the Douglas' son your only mean[2211]
For powers in Scotland; which, for divers reasons
Which I shall send you written, be assured,
Will easily be granted. You, my lord,[2212] [To Northumberland.
Your son in Scotland being thus employ'd,265
Shall secretly into the bosom creep[2213]
Of that same noble prelate, well beloved,
The archbishop.
Hot. Of York, is it not?[2214]
Wor. True; who bears hard270
His brother's death at Bristol, the Lord Scroop.[2215]
I speak not this in estimation,
As what I think might be, but what I know
Is ruminated, plotted and set down,
And only stays but to behold the face275
Of that occasion that shall bring it on.
Hot. I smell it: upon my life, it will do well.[2216]
North. Before the game is a-foot, thou still let'st slip.[2217]
Hot. Why, it cannot choose but be a noble plot:[2218]
And then the power of Scotland and of York,280
To join with Mortimer, ha?
Hot. In faith, it is exceedingly well aim'd.
Wor. And 'tis no little reason bids us speed,
To save our heads by raising of a head;
For, bear ourselves as even as we can,285
The king will always think him in our debt,
And think we think ourselves unsatisfied,[2220]
Till he hath found a time to pay us home:[2221]
And see already how he doth begin[2222]
To make us strangers to his looks of love.290
Hot. He does, he does: we'll be revenged on him.
Wor. Cousin, farewell: no further go in this
Than I by letters shall direct your course.[2223]
When time is ripe, which will be suddenly,[2223]
I'll steal to Glendower and Lord Mortimer;[2224]295
Where you and Douglas and our powers at once,
As I will fashion it, shall happily meet,
To bear our fortunes in our own strong arms,
Which now we hold at much uncertainty.
North. Farewell, good brother: we shall thrive, I trust.300
Hot. Uncle, adieu: O, let the hours be short[2225]
Till fields and blows and groans applaud our sport! [Exeunt.[2226]