Proclaim my brother Edmund Mortimer North. He did; myself did hear it. Even with the bloody payment of your deaths. 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 advent'rous 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, North. Imagination of some great exploit Hot. By heaven, methinks, it were an easy leap, Where fathom-line could never touch the ground, But out upon this half-fac'd fellowship! Wor. He apprehends a world of figures here, But not the form of what he should attend.Good cousin, give me audience for awhile. Hot. I cry you mercy. Wor. That are your prisoners, Hot. Those same noble Scots, I'll keep them all; Wor. You start away, And lend no ear unto my purposes.- Hot. I'll have a starling shall be taught to speak Wor. Cousin; a word. Hear you, Hot. All studies here I solemnly defy, B Save how to gall and pinch this Bolingbroke: And that same sword-and-buckler prince of Wales,—— And would be glad he met with some mischance, Wor. Farewell, kinsman! I will talk to you, 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 scourg'd with rods, Nettled, and stung with pismires, when I hear In Richard's time,-What do you call the place?- Hot. You say true: Why, what a candy deal of courtesy This fawning greyhound then did proffer me! Wor. Nay, if you have not, to't again; Hot. I have done, i'faith.. 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 assur'd, Will easily be granted.-You, my lord, [To Northumberland. Your son in Scotland being thus employ'd,Shall secretly into the bosom creep Of that same noble prelate, well belov'd, Hot. Of York, is't not? Wor. True; who bears hard His brother's death at Bristol, the lord Scroop. As what I think might be, but what I know Hot. I smell it; upon my life, it will do well. Wor. Hot. He does, he does; we'll be reveng'd on him. To bear our fortunes in our own strong arms, 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! [Exeunt. Enter a Carrier, with a Lantern in his Hand. 1 Car. Heigh ho! An't be not four by the day, I'll be hanged: Charles' wain is over the new chimney, and yet our horse not packed. What, ostler! 1 Car. I pr'ythee, Tom, beat Cut's saddle, put a few flocks in the point; the poor jade is wrung in the withers out of all cess. Enter another Carrier. 2 Car. Pease and beans are as dank here as a dog, and that is the next way to give poor jades the bots: this house is turned upside down, since Robin ostler died. 1 Car. Poor fellow! never joyed since the price of oats rose; it was the death of him. 2 Car. I think, this be the most villanous house in all London road for fleas : I am stung like a tench. |