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

[Exeunt KING Henry, Blunt, etc.

Hot. And if the devil come and roar for them

I will not send them :-I will after straight,

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

Although it be with hazard of my head.

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

Here comes your uncle.

Re-enter WORCESTER.

Hot. Speak of Mortimer?

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

In his behalf, I'll empty all these veins,
And shed my dear blood drop by drop i' the dust,
But I will lift the down-trod Mortimer

As high i' the air as this unthankful king,
As this ingrate and cankered Bolingbroke.

North. Brother, the king hath made your nephew mad.

[To WORCESTER. Wor. Who struck this heat up, after I was gone? Hot. He will, forsooth, have all my prisoners;

And when I urged the ransom once again
Of my wife's brother, then his cheek looked pale;
And on my face he turned an eye of death,
Trembling even at the name of Mortimer.

Wor. I cannot blame him: Was he not proclaimed
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;

From whence he, intercepted, did return
To be deposed, and shortly, murthered.

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

mouth

Live scandaliz'd, and foully spoken of.

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

Heir to the crown?

North. He did; myself did hear it.

Hot. Nay, then I cannot blame his cousin king,
That wished him on the barren mountains starved.
Therefore I say,-

Wor. Peace, cousin, say no more :
And now I will unclasp a secret book,
And to your quick-conceiving discontents
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 :-
Send danger from the east unto the west,
So honour cross it from the north to south,
And let them grapple ;-the blood more stirs
To rouse a lion, than to start a hare.

North. Imagination of some great exploit 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,
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 heaven, 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;
Forbade 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,

Save how to gall and pinch this Bolingbroke:

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

But that I think his father loves him not,

And would be glad he met with some mischance,
I'd have him poisoned with a pot of ale.

Wor. Farewell, kinsman! I will talk to you,

When you are better tempered to attend.

North. Why, what a wasp-tongued 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 whipped and scourged with rods,

Nettled, and stung with pismires, when I hear
Of this vile politician, Bolingbroke.

In Richard's time,—What do you call the place?—
A plague upon 't! it is in Gloucestershire ;-
'Twas where the madcap duke his uncle kept;
His uncle York ;—where I first bowed my knee
Unto this king of smiles, this Bolingbroke,
When you and he came back from Ravenspurg.
North. At Berkeley Castle.

Hot. You say true:

Why, what a candy deal of courtesy

This fawning greyhound then did proffer me!
Look,—“ when his infant fortune came to age,"
And," gentle Harry Percy,-and, "kind cousin,"-

M

O the devil take such cozeners!--God forgive me!-
Good uncle, tell your tale, for I have done.
Wor. Nay, if you have not, to't again;
We'll stay your leisure.

Hot. I have done, in sooth.

Wor. Then once more to your Scottish prisoners.
Deliver them up without their ransom straight,
And make the Douglas' son your only mean
For powers in Scotland; which,—for divers reasons,
Which I shall send you written,-be assured,
Will easily be granted.—

When time is ripe, which will be suddenly,

I'll steal to Glendower, and Lord Mortimer;

Where you and Douglas, and your 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. Hot. Uncle, adieu :-O let the hours be short, "Till fields, and blows, and groans applaud our sport! SHAKESPERE,

HENRY IV.-PART I.

Second Selection.

Enter HOTSPUR, Worcester, and Douglas.

Hot. Well said, my noble Scot; if speaking truth,
In this fine age, were not thought flattery,

Such attribution should the Douglas have,
As not a soldier of this season's stamp

Should go so general current through the world.
By Heaven, I cannot flatter; I defy

The tongues of soothers; but a braver place,
In my heart's love hath no man than yourself:
Nay, task me to my word; approve me, lord.
Doug. Thou art the king of honour :
No man so potent breathes upon the ground,
But I will beard him.

Hot. Do so, and 'tis well :

Enter a MESSENGER, with Letters.

What letters hast thou there?—I can but thank you.
Mess. These letters come from your father.

Hot. Letters from him! Why comes he not himself?
Mess. He cannot come, my lord; he's grievous sick.
Hot. Zounds! how has he the leisure to be sick

In such a justling time?
Who leads his power?
Under whose government come they along?
Mess. His letters bear his mind, not I, my lord.
Wor. I prithee tell me, doth he keep his bed?
Mess. He did, my lord, four days ere I set forth ;
And at the time of my departure thence,

He was much feared by his physicians.

Wor. I would the state of time had first been whole,

Ere he by sickness had been visited;

His health was never better worth than now.

Hot. Sick now! droop now!

His sickness doth infect

[Aside.

The very life-blood of our enterprise;
'Tis catching hither, even to our camp.
He writes me here,-that inward sickness-
And that his friends by deputation could not
So soon be drawn; nor did he think it meet
To lay so dangerous and dear a trust

On any soul removed, but on his own.
Yet doth he give us bold advertisement,-

That with our small conjunction we should on,
To see how fortune is disposed to us;

For, as he writes, there is no quailing now;
Because the king is certainly possessed

Of all our purposes.

What say you to it?

Wor. Your father's sickness is a maim to us.
Hot. A perilous gash, a very limb lopped off:-
And yet, in faith, it is not; his present want
Seems more than we shall find it :—were it good
To set the exact wealth of all our states

All at one cast? To set so rich a main
On the nice hazard of one doubtful hour?

Wor. But yet I would your father had been here,
The quality and air of our attempt

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