Page images
PDF
EPUB

No 3, on the barren mountains let him starve;
For I thall never hold that man my triend,
Whole tongue thall ask me for one penny cost
To ransom home revolied Mortimer.

Hot. Revolted Mortimer?
He never did fall off, my sovereign Liege,
But by the chance of war: to prove that true,
Needs no more but one tongue; fur all those

wou:ds,Those mouthed wounds, which valiantly he took, When on the gentle Severn's sedgy bank, In fingle oppolition, hand to hand, He did confound the best part of an hour In changing hardiment with great Glendower; Three times they breath'd, and three times did they Upon'agreement, of swift Severn's flood; [drinkg. Who then affrighted with their bloody looks, Ran fearfully among the trembling reeds, And hid his crispe head in the hollow bank, Blood-stained with these valiant combatants. Never did bare and rotten policy Colour her working with such deadly wounds; Nor never could the noble Mortimer Receive fo many, and all willingly; Then let him not be slander'd with revolt.

K. Henry. Thou dost belie him, Percy, thou beliels. He never durst encounter with Glendo wer; [hiin : He durst as well have met the devil alone, As Owen Glendower for an enemy. Art not asham'd? but, firrah, froin this hour, 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 displeale you.—My Lord Northumberland, We licence your departure with your fon. -Send us your prisoners, or you'll hear of it.

[Exit K. Henry. Hot. An if the devil come and roar for them, I will not send them. - I'll after strait, And tell him so; for I will eaie my heart, Although it be with liazard of iny head.

North. What, drunk with choler? stay, and pause Here comes your uncle.

[a while; Enter Worceller. Hot. Speak of Mortimer? Yes, I will speak of him; and let my soul Want mercy, if I do not join with him. In his behalf I'll empty ail these veins, And shed my dear blood drop by drop in duft, But I will lift the down-trod Mortimer As high i'th'air as this unthankful King, As this ingrate and cankred Bolingbroke. North. Brother, the King hath made your nephew mad.

[To Worcester. Wor. Who strook this heat up, afier I was gone.

Hot. He will, forsooth, have all my prisoners; And when I urg'd the rantom 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 ev'n at the name of Mortimer.

IVor. I cannot blame him; was he pot proclaim'd, By Richard that dead is, the next of blood?

North. He was; I heard the proclamation; And then it was, when ihe unhappy King (Whose wrongs in us, God pardon!) did let forth Upon his Irish expedition, From whence he, intercepted, did return To be depos'd, and thortly murdered.

lor. And for whose death, we in the world's wide Live scandaliz'd, and foully spoken of. [mouth

Hot. But foft, I pray you. Did King Richard then Proclaim my broiher Mortiiner Heir to the crown?

North. He did: myself did hear it.

Hot. Nay, then I cannot blame his coufin King, That wilh'd him on the barren mountains starv'de But shall it be that you!, that set the crown Upon the head of this forgetful man, did for his fake wear the detelted blot Of murd'rous fubornation? fhall it be That you a world of curses undergo, Being the agents or base ficond icans,

The cords, the ladder, or the hangman rather?
(O pardon me, that I descend lo low,
To Hiew the line and the predicament
Wherein you range under this tabule King)
Shall it for thame be ipoken in these days,
Or fill up chronicles in time to come,
That men of your nobility and power
Did gage them both in an unjuit behalf,
As both of you, God pardon it! have done,
To put down Richard, that sweet lovely rose,
And plant this thorn, this canker Bolingbroke?
And Thall it in more shame be further spoken,
That you are fool'd, discarded, and thook off
By hinn for whom these shames ye underwent?
No; yet time ferves, wherein you may redeein
Your banith'd honours, and restore youríelves
Into the good thoughts of the world again.
Revenge the jeering, and dildaind contempt
Of this proud King, who studies day and night
To answer all the debt he owes unto you,
Ev'n with the bloody payments of

youi

deaths: Therefore, I say

Wor. Peace, cousin, say no more:
And now I will unclaip a secret book,
And to your quick-conceiving discontents
I'll read you matter deep and dangerous;
As full of peril and advent'rous ipirit,
As to o'er-walk a current, roaring loud,
On the unsteadfait footing of a spear.

Hot. If he fall in, good night, or link or swim. -
Send danger from the east unto the welt,
So honour cross it from the north to fouth,
And let them grapple.--O! the blood more stirs
To rouze a lion, ihan to start a hare.

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

Hot By Heav'n), methinks, it were an easy leap, To pluck bright honour from the pale-fac'd moon; Or dive into the bottom of the detp, Where fathom-line could never touch the ground, And pluck up drowned Honour by the locks; So he, that doib redeein her thence, miglit wear

Without corrival all her dignities.
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 a while.

Hot. I cry you mercy.

Wor. Thöfe fame noble Scots,
That are your prisoners-

Hot. I'll keep them all ;
F! Heav'n he ihall not have a Scot of them;
Ne, if a Scot would save his foul, he shall not ;
I'J keep them, by this hand.

Wor. You start away,
And lend no ear unto my purposes ;
Those prisoners you fall keep.

Hot. 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 lyes asleep,
And in his ear I'll holla, Mortimer !
Nay, I will have a starling taught to speak
Nothing but Mortimer, and give it him,
To keep his anger still in motion.
Wor. Hear youi, coufin, a word.

Hot All studies here I folemnly defy,
Sare how to gall and pinch this Bolingbroke.
And that lame sword-and-buckler prince of Wales,
Bu that, I think, his faiber loves him not,
Aid would be glad he met with fome mischance,
I'd have him poisond with a pot of ale.

Wor. Farewell, my kinsman! I will taik to you V hen you are better temper’d to attend. North. Why, what a walp-tongu'd 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 whipt and scourg'd

with rous,
Nettled and stung with pismires, when I hear
Of this vile politician Bolingbroke.
In Richard's time-what do ye call the place?-
A plague upon't it is in Glo'ttershire

*

'Twas where the mad-cap Duke his uncle kept
His uncle York—where I first bow'd my knee
Unto this King of smiles, this Bolingbroke,
When you and he caine back froin Ravenspurg,

North. At Berkley castle.

Hot. You say true :
Why, what a deal of candy'd courtesy
This fawning greyhound then did proffer me !
Look, when his infunt fortune came to age
And gentle Harry Percy-and kind cousin.-
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.

Hst. I have done, i'faith.
Ivor. Then once more to your Scottish prisoners.

[Fo Hotfpur.
Deliver them without their ransom straight,
And make the Douglas' son your only mean
For pow'rs in Scotland; which, for divers reasons,
Which I shall send you written, be affur'd
Will easily be granted.--Yoli, my Lord, [To North.
Your fon in Scotland being thus employ'd,
Shall secretly into the bofom creep
Of that same noble prelate, well belov'd,
Th'archbishop

Hot. York, is't not?

Wor. True, who bears hard His brother's death at Bristol, the Lord Scroop. 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 face Of that occasion that shall bring it on.

Hot. I smell it. On my life it will do well. North. Before the game's a-foot, thou still lett'st

Hot. It cannot chule but be a noble plot; [flip. And then the power of Scotland, and of York, To join with Mortimer-ha!

• Alluding to what passed in King Richard, AA IL Sc. l. Johnjon.

[merged small][ocr errors]
« PreviousContinue »