Henry IV

ACT I

SCENE I. London. The palace.

Enter KING HENRY, LORD JOHN OF LANCASTER, the EARL of WESTMORELAND, SIR WALTER BLUNT, and others

KING HENRY IV

So shaken as we are, so wan with care,

Find we a time for frighted peace to pant,

And breathe short-winded accents of new broils

To be commenced in strands afar remote.

No more the thirsty entrance of this soil

Shall daub her lips with her own children's blood,

Nor more shall trenching war channel her fields,

Nor bruise her flowerets with the armed hoofs

Of hostile paces: those opposed eyes,

Which, like the meteors of a troubled heaven,

All of one nature, of one substance bred,

Did lately meet in the intestine shock

And furious close of civil butchery

Shall now, in mutual well-beseeming ranks,

March all one way and be no more opposed

Against acquaintance, kindred and allies:

The edge of war, like an ill-sheathed knife,

No more shall cut his master. Therefore, friends,

As far as to the sepulchre of Christ,

Whose soldier now, under whose blessed cross

We are impressed and engaged to fight,

Forthwith a power of English shall we levy,

Whose arms were moulded in their mothers' womb

To chase these pagans in those holy fields

Over whose acres walk'd those blessed feet

Which fourteen hundred years ago were nail'd

For our advantage on the bitter cross.

But this our purpose now is twelve month old,

And bootless 'tis to tell you we will go:

Therefore we meet not now. Then let me hear

Of you, my gentle cousin Westmoreland,

What yesternight our council did decree

In forwarding this dear expedience.

WESTMORELAND

My liege, this haste was hot in question,

And many limits of the charge set down

But yesternight: when all athwart there came

A post from Wales loaden with heavy news,

Whose worst was, that the noble Mortimer,

Leading the men of Herefordshire to fight

Against the irregular and wild Glendower,

Was by the rude hands of that Welshman taken,

A thousand of his people butchered,

Upon whose dead corpse there was such misuse,

Such beastly shameless transformation,

By those Welshwomen done as may not be

Without much shame retold or spoken of.

KING HENRY IV

It seems then that the tidings of this broil

Brake off our business for the Holy Land.

WESTMORELAND

This match'd with other did, my gracious lord,

For more uneven and unwelcome news

Came from the north and thus it did import:

On Holy-rood day, the gallant Hotspur there,

Young Harry Percy and brave Archibald,

That ever-valiant and approved Scot,

At Holmedon met,

Where they did spend a sad and bloody hour,

As by discharge of their artillery,

And shape of likelihood, the news was told,

For he that brought them, in the very heat

And pride of their contention did take horse,

Uncertain of the issue any way.

KING HENRY IV

Here is a dear, a true industrious friend,

Sir Walter Blunt, new lighted from his horse.

Stain'd with the variation of each soil

Betwixt that Holmedon and this seat of ours,

And he hath brought us smooth and welcome news.

The Earl of Douglas is discomfited:

Ten thousand bold Scots, two and twenty knights,

Balk'd in their own blood did Sir Walter see

On Holmedon's plains. Of prisoners, Hotspur took

Mordake the Earl of Fife, and eldest son

To beaten Douglas, and the Earl of Athol,

Of Murray, Angus, and Menteith:

And is not this an honourable spoil?

A gallant prize? ha, cousin, is it not?

WESTMORELAND

In faith,

It is a conquest for a prince to boast of.

KING HENRY IV

Yea, there thou makest me sad and makest me sin

In envy that my Lord Northumberland

Should be the father to so blest a son,

A son who is the theme of honour's tongue,

Amongst a grove, the very straightest plant,

Who is sweet Fortune's minion and her pride:

Whilst I, by looking on the praise of him,

See riot and dishonour stain the brow

Of my young Harry. O that it could be proved

That some night-tripping fairy had exchanged

In cradle-clothes our children where they lay,

And call'd mine Percy, his Plantagenet!

Then would I have his Harry, and he mine.

But let him from my thoughts. What think you, coz,

Of this young Percy's pride? the prisoners,

Which he in this adventure hath surprised,

To his own use he keeps, and sends me word,

I shall have none but Mordake Earl of Fife.

WESTMORELAND

This is his uncle's teaching, this is Worcester,

Malevolent to you in all aspects,

Which makes him prune himself, and bristle up

The crest of youth against your dignity.

KING HENRY IV

But I have sent for him to answer this,

And for this cause awhile we must neglect

Our holy purpose to Jerusalem.

Cousin, on Wednesday next our council we

Will hold at Windsor, so inform the lords:

But come yourself with speed to us again,

For more is to be said and to be done

Than out of anger can be uttered.

WESTMORELAND

I will, my liege.

Exeunt

SCENE II. London. An apartment of the Prince's.

Enter the PRINCE OF WALES and FALSTAFF

FALSTAFF

Now, Hal, what time of day is it, lad?

PRINCE HENRY

Thou art so fat-witted, with drinking of old sack

and unbuttoning thee after supper and sleeping upon

benches after noon, that thou hast forgotten to

demand that truly which thou wouldst truly know.

What a devil hast thou to do with the time of the

day? Unless hours were cups of sack and minutes

capons and clocks the tongues of bawds and dials the

signs of leaping-houses and the blessed sun himself

a fair hot wench in flame-coloured taffeta, I see no

reason why thou shouldst be so superfluous to demand

the time of the day.

FALSTAFF

Indeed, you come near me now, Hal, for we that take

purses go by the moon and the seven stars, and not

by Phoebus, he,'that wandering knight so fair.' And,

I prithee, sweet wag, when thou art king, as, God

save thy grace,--majesty I should say, for grace

thou wilt have none,--

PRINCE HENRY

What, none?

FALSTAFF

No, by my troth, not so much as will serve to

prologue to an egg and butter.

PRINCE HENRY

Well, how then? come, roundly, roundly.

FALSTAFF

Marry, then, sweet wag, when thou art king, let not

us that are squires of the night's body be called

thieves of the day's beauty: let us be Diana's

foresters, gentlemen of the shade, minions of the

moon, and let men say we be men of good government,

being governed, as the sea is, by our noble and

chaste mistress the moon, under whose countenance we steal.

PRINCE HENRY

Thou sayest well, and it holds well too, for the

fortune of us that are the moon's men doth ebb and

flow like the sea, being governed, as the sea is,

by the moon. As, for proof, now: a purse of gold

most resolutely snatched on Monday night and most

dissolutely spent on Tuesday morning, got with

swearing 'Lay by' and spent with crying 'Bring in,'

now in as low an ebb as the foot of the ladder

and by and by in as high a flow as the ridge of the gallows.

FALSTAFF

By the Lord, thou sayest true, lad. And is not my

hostess of the tavern a most sweet wench?

PRINCE HENRY

As the honey of Hybla, my old lad of the castle. And

is not a buff jerkin a most sweet robe of durance?

FALSTAFF

How now, how now, mad wag! what, in thy quips and

thy quiddities? what a plague have I to do with a

buff jerkin?

PRINCE HENRY

Why, what a pox have I to do with my hostess of the tavern?

FALSTAFF

Well, thou hast called her to a reckoning many a

time and oft.

PRINCE HENRY

Did I ever call for thee to pay thy part?

FALSTAFF

No, I'll give thee thy due, thou hast paid all there.

PRINCE HENRY

Yea, and elsewhere, so far as my coin would stretch,

and where it would not, I have used my credit.

FALSTAFF

Yea, and so used it that were it not here apparent

that thou art heir apparent--But, I prithee, sweet

wag, shall there be gallows standing in England when

thou art king? and resolution thus fobbed as it is

with the rusty curb of old father antic the law? Do

not thou, when thou art king, hang a thief.

PRINCE HENRY

No, thou shalt.

FALSTAFF

Shall I? O rare! By the Lord, I'll be a brave judge.

PRINCE HENRY

Thou judgest false already: I mean, thou shalt have

the hanging of the thieves and so become a rare hangman.

FALSTAFF

Well, Hal, well, and in some sort it jumps with my

humour as well as waiting in the court, I can tell

you.

PRINCE HENRY

For obtaining of suits?

FALSTAFF

Yea, for obtaining of suits, whereof the hangman

hath no lean wardrobe. 'Sblood, I am as melancholy

as a gib cat or a lugged bear.

PRINCE HENRY

Or an old lion, or a lover's lute.

FALSTAFF

Yea, or the drone of a Lincolnshire bagpipe.

PRINCE HENRY

What sayest thou to a hare, or the melancholy of

Moor-ditch?

FALSTAFF

Thou hast the most unsavoury similes and art indeed

the most comparative, rascalliest, sweet young

prince. But, Hal, I prithee, trouble me no more

with vanity. I would to God thou and I knew where a

commodity of good names were to be bought. An old

lord of the council rated me the other day in the

street about you, sir, but I marked him not, and yet

he talked very wisely, but I regarded him not, and

yet he talked wisely, and in the street too.

PRINCE HENRY

Thou didst well, for wisdom cries out in the

streets, and no man regards it.

FALSTAFF

O, thou hast damnable iteration and art indeed able

to corrupt a saint. Thou hast done much harm upon

me, Hal, God forgive thee for it! Before I knew

thee, Hal, I knew nothing, and now am I, if a man

should speak truly, little better than one of the

wicked. I must give over this life, and I will give

it over: by the Lord, and I do not, I am a villain:

I'll be damned for never a king's son in

Christendom.

PRINCE HENRY

Where shall we take a purse tomorrow, Jack?

FALSTAFF

'Zounds, where thou wilt, lad, I'll make one, an I

do not, call me villain and baffle me.

PRINCE HENRY

I see a good amendment of life in thee, from praying

to purse-taking.

FALSTAFF

Why, Hal, 'tis my vocation, Hal, 'tis no sin for a

man to labour in his vocation.

Enter POINS

Poins! Now shall we know if Gadshill have set a

match. O, if men were to be saved by merit, what

hole in hell were hot enough for him? This is the

most omnipotent villain that ever cried 'Stand' to

a true man.

PRINCE HENRY

Good morrow, Ned.

POINS

Good morrow, sweet Hal. What says Monsieur Remorse?

what says Sir John Sack and Sugar? Jack! how

agrees the devil and thee about thy soul, that thou

soldest him on Good-Friday last for a cup of Madeira

and a cold capon's leg?

PRINCE HENRY

Sir John stands to his word, the devil shall have

his bargain, for he was never yet a breaker of

proverbs: he will give the devil his due.

POINS

Then art thou damned for keeping thy word with the devil.

PRINCE HENRY

Else he had been damned for cozening the devil.

POINS

But, my lads, my lads, to-morrow morning, by four

o'clock, early at Gadshill! there are pilgrims going

to Canterbury with rich offerings, and traders

riding to London with fat purses: I have vizards

for you all, you have horses for yourselves:

Gadshill lies to-night in Rochester: I have bespoke

supper to-morrow night in Eastcheap: we may do it

as secure as sleep. If you will go, I will stuff

your purses full of crowns, if you will not, tarry

at home and be hanged.

FALSTAFF

Hear ye, Yedward, if I tarry at home and go not,

I'll hang you for going.

POINS

You will, chops?

FALSTAFF

Hal, wilt thou make one?

PRINCE HENRY

Who, I rob? I a thief? not I, by my faith.

FALSTAFF

There's neither honesty, manhood, nor good

fellowship in thee, nor thou camest not of the blood

royal, if thou darest not stand for ten shillings.

PRINCE HENRY

Well then, once in my days I'll be a madcap.

FALSTAFF

Why, that's well said.

PRINCE HENRY

Well, come what will, I'll tarry at home.

FALSTAFF

By the Lord, I'll be a traitor then, when thou art king.

PRINCE HENRY

I care not.

POINS

Sir John, I prithee, leave the prince and me alone:

I will lay him down such reasons for this adventure

that he shall go.

FALSTAFF

Well, God give thee the spirit of persuasion and him

the ears of profiting, that what thou speakest may

move and what he hears may be believed, that the

true prince may, for recreation sake, prove a false

thief, for the poor abuses of the time want

countenance. Farewell: you shall find me in Eastcheap.

PRINCE HENRY

Farewell, thou latter spring! farewell, All-hallown summer!

Exit Falstaff

POINS

Now, my good sweet honey lord, ride with us

to-morrow: I have a jest to execute that I cannot

manage alone. Falstaff, Bardolph, Peto and Gadshill

shall rob those men that we have already waylaid:

yourself and I will not be there, and when they

have the booty, if you and I do not rob them, cut

this head off from my shoulders.

PRINCE HENRY

How shall we part with them in setting forth?

POINS

Why, we will set forth before or after them, and

appoint them a place of meeting, wherein it is at

our pleasure to fail, and then will they adventure

upon the exploit themselves, which they shall have

no sooner achieved, but we'll set upon them.

PRINCE HENRY

Yea, but 'tis like that they will know us by our

horses, by our habits and by every other

appointment, to be ourselves.

POINS

Tut! our horses they shall not see: I'll tie them

in the wood, our vizards we will change after we

leave them: and, sirrah, I have cases of buckram

for the nonce, to immask our noted outward garments.

PRINCE HENRY

Yea, but I doubt they will be too hard for us.

POINS

Well, for two of them, I know them to be as

true-bred cowards as ever turned back, and for the

third, if he fight longer than he sees reason, I'll

forswear arms. The virtue of this jest will be, the

incomprehensible lies that this same fat rogue will

tell us when we meet at supper: how thirty, at

least, he fought with, what wards, what blows, what

extremities he endured, and in the reproof of this

lies the jest.

PRINCE HENRY

Well, I'll go with thee: provide us all things

necessary and meet me to-morrow night in Eastcheap,

there I'll sup. Farewell.

POINS

Farewell, my lord.

Exit Poins

PRINCE HENRY

I know you all, and will awhile uphold

The unyoked humour of your idleness:

Yet herein will I imitate the sun,

Who doth permit the base contagious clouds

To smother up his beauty from the world,

That, when he please again to be himself,

Being wanted, he may be more wonder'd at,

By breaking through the foul and ugly mists

Of vapours that did seem to strangle him.

If all the year were playing holidays,

To sport would be as tedious as to work,

But when they seldom come, they wish'd for come,

And nothing pleaseth but rare accidents.

So, when this loose behavior I throw off

And pay the debt I never promised,

By how much better than my word I am,

By so much shall I falsify men's hopes,

And like bright metal on a sullen ground,

My reformation, glittering o'er my fault,

Shall show more goodly and attract more eyes

Than that which hath no foil to set it off.

I'll so offend, to make offence a skill,

Redeeming time when men think least I will.

Exit

SCENE III. London. The palace.

Enter the KING, NORTHUMBERLAND, WORCESTER, HOTSPUR, SIR WALTER BLUNT, with others

KING HENRY IV

My blood hath been too cold and temperate,

Unapt to stir at these indignities,

And you have found me, for accordingly

You tread upon my patience: but be sure

I will from henceforth rather be myself,

Mighty and to be fear'd, than my condition,

Which hath been smooth as oil, soft as young down,

And therefore lost that title of respect

Which the proud soul ne'er pays but to the proud.

EARL OF WORCESTER

Our house, my sovereign liege, little deserves

The scourge of greatness to be used on it,

And that same greatness too which our own hands

Have holp to make so portly.

NORTHUMBERLAND

My lord.--

KING HENRY IV

Worcester, get thee gone, for I do see

Danger and disobedience in thine eye:

O, sir, your presence is too bold and peremptory,

And majesty might never yet endure

The moody frontier of a servant brow.

You have good leave to leave us: when we need

Your use and counsel, we shall send for you.

Exit Worcester

You were about to speak.

To North

NORTHUMBERLAND

Yea, my good lord.

Those prisoners in your highness' name demanded,

Which Harry Percy here at Holmedon took,

Were, as he says, not with such strength denied

As is deliver'd to your majesty:

Either envy, therefore, or misprison

Is guilty of this fault and not my son.

HOTSPUR

My liege, I did deny no prisoners.

But I remember, when the fight was done,

When I was dry with rage and extreme toil,

Breathless and faint, leaning upon my sword,

Came there a certain lord, neat, and trimly dress'd,

Fresh as a bridegroom, and his chin new reap'd

Show'd like a stubble-land at harvest-home,

He was perfumed like a milliner,

And 'twixt his finger and his thumb he held

A pouncet-box, which ever and anon

He gave his nose and took't away again,

Who therewith angry, when it next came there,

Took it in snuff, and still he smiled and talk'd,

And as the soldiers bore dead bodies by,

He call'd them untaught knaves, unmannerly,

To bring a slovenly unhandsome corse

Betwixt the wind and his nobility.

With many holiday and lady terms

He question'd me, amongst the rest, demanded

My prisoners in your majesty's behalf.

I then, all smarting with my wounds being cold,

To be so pester'd with a popinjay,

Out of my grief and my impatience,

Answer'd neglectingly I know not what,

He should or he should not, for he made me mad

To see him shine so brisk and smell so sweet

And talk so like a waiting-gentlewoman

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

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.

SIR WALTER BLUNT

The circumstance 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 HENRY IV

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 but 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.

HOTSPUR

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 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,

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,

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,

Nor could the noble Mortimer

Receive so many, and all willingly:

Then let not him be slander'd with revolt.

KING HENRY IV

Thou dost belie him, Percy, thou dost belie him,

He never did encounter with Glendower:

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:

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 licence your departure with your son.

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

Exeunt King Henry, Blunt, and train

HOTSPUR

An 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,

Albeit I make a hazard of my head.

NORTHUMBERLAND

What, drunk with choler? stay and pause awhile:

Here comes your uncle.

Re-enter WORCESTER

HOTSPUR

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

As high in the air as this unthankful king,

As this ingrate and canker'd Bolingbroke.

NORTHUMBERLAND

Brother, the king hath made your nephew mad.

EARL OF WORCESTER

Who struck this heat up after I was gone?

HOTSPUR

He will, forsooth, have all my prisoners,

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.

EARL OF WORCESTER

I cannot blame him: was not he proclaim'd

By Richard that dead is the next of blood?

NORTHUMBERLAND

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 murdered.

EARL OF WORCESTER

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

Live scandalized and foully spoken of.

HOTSPUR

But soft, I pray you, did King Richard then

Proclaim my brother Edmund Mortimer

Heir to the crown?

NORTHUMBERLAND

He did, myself did hear it.

HOTSPUR

Nay, then I cannot blame his cousin king,

That wished 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?

O, pardon me that I descend so low,

To show the line and the predicament

Wherein you range under this subtle king,

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,

To put down Richard, that sweet lovely rose,

An 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 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

To answer all the debt he owes to you

Even with the bloody payment of your deaths:

Therefore, I say--

EARL OF WORCESTER

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.

HOTSPUR

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: O, the blood more stirs

To rouse a lion than to start a hare!

NORTHUMBERLAND

Imagination of some great exploit

Drives him beyond the bounds of patience.

HOTSPUR

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!

EARL OF WORCESTER

He apprehends a world of figures here,

But not the form of what he should attend.

Good cousin, give me audience for a while.

HOTSPUR

I cry you mercy.

EARL OF WORCESTER

Those same noble Scots

That are your prisoners,--

HOTSPUR

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.

EARL OF WORCESTER

You start away

And lend no ear unto my purposes.

Those prisoners you shall keep.

HOTSPUR

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.

EARL OF WORCESTER

Hear you, cousin, a word.

HOTSPUR

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 would have him poison'd with a pot of ale.

EARL OF WORCESTER

Farewell, kinsman: I'll talk to you

When you are better temper'd to attend.

NORTHUMBERLAND

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!

HOTSPUR

Why, look you, I am whipp'd 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 it, it is in Gloucestershire,

'Twas where the madcap duke his uncle kept,

His uncle York, where I first bow'd my knee

Unto this king of smiles, this Bolingbroke,--

'Sblood!--

When you and he came back from Ravenspurgh.

NORTHUMBERLAND

At Berkley castle.

HOTSPUR

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,'

O, the devil take such cozeners! God forgive me!

Good uncle, tell your tale, I have done.

EARL OF WORCESTER

Nay, if you have not, to it again,

We will stay your leisure.

HOTSPUR

I have done, i' faith.

EARL OF WORCESTER

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. 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 beloved,

The archbishop.

HOTSPUR

Of York, is it not?

EARL OF WORCESTER

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.

HOTSPUR

I smell it: upon my life, it will do well.

NORTHUMBERLAND

Before the game is afoot, thou still let'st slip.

HOTSPUR

Why, it cannot choose but be a noble plot,

And then the power of Scotland and of York,

To join with Mortimer, ha?

EARL OF WORCESTER

And so they shall.

HOTSPUR

In faith, it is exceedingly well aim'd.

EARL OF WORCESTER

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,

The king will always think him in our debt,

And think we think ourselves unsatisfied,

Till he hath found a time to pay us home:

And see already how he doth begin

To make us strangers to his looks of love.

HOTSPUR

He does, he does: we'll be revenged on him.

EARL OF WORCESTER

Cousin, farewell: no further go in this

Than I by letters shall direct your course.

When time is ripe, which will be suddenly,

I'll steal to Glendower and Lord Mortimer,

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.

NORTHUMBERLAND

Farewell, good brother: we shall thrive, I trust.

HOTSPUR

Uncle, Adieu: O, let the hours be short

Till fields and blows and groans applaud our sport!

Exeunt