With many holiday and lady terms
He question'd me; among the reft, demanded
My prisoners, in your majesty's behalf.
I then, all smarting, with my wounds being cold,
To be fo pefter'd with a popinjay,
Out of my grief, and my impatience,
Answer'd neglectingly, I know not what ;
He fhould, or he fhould not ;-for he made me mad,
To see him shine so brisk, and smell so sweet,
And talk fo like a waiting-gentlewoman,
Of guns, and drums, and wounds, (God fave the mark!)
And telling me, the fovereign't thing on earth
Was fpermaceti, for an inward bruise;
And that it was great pity, fo it was,
That villainous falt-petre should be digg'd
Out of the bowels of the harmless earth,
Which many a good tall fellow had deftroy'd
So cowardly; and, but for these vile guns,
He would himself have been a foldier.
This bald unjointed chat of his, my lord,
I anfwer'd indirectly, as I faid;
And, I beseech you, let not his report
Come current for an accufation,
Betwixt my love and your high majesty.
Blunt. The circumftance confider'd, good my lord,
Whatever Harry Percy then had faid,
To fuch a person, and in such a place,
At fuch a time, with all the rest retold,
May reasonably die, and never rife
To do him wrong, or any way impeach;
What then he faid, fo he unfay it now.
K. Hen. Why, yet he doth deny his prisoners;
But with provifo, and exception,
That we, at our own charge, fhall ransom straight
His brother-in-law, the foolish Mortimer;
Who, on my foul, hath wilfully betray'd
The lives of thofe, that he did lead to fight
Against the 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 buy treason? and indent with fears,
When they have loft and forfeited themselves?
No, on the barren mountains let him ftarve;
For I fhall never hold that man my friend,
Whofe tongue shall ask me for one penny coft
To ranfom home revolted Mortimer.
Hot. Revolted Mortimer!
He never did fall off, my fovereign liege,
But by the chance of war ;-To prove that true,
Needs no more but one tongue for all thofe wounds,
Those mouthed wounds, which valiantly he took,
When on the gentle Severn's fedgy bank,
In fingle oppofition, 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 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
Blood-ftained with thefe valiant combatants.
Never did bare and rotten policy
Colour her working with fuch deadly wounds;
Nor never could the noble Mortimer
Receive fo many, and all willingly:
Then let him not be flander'd with revolt.
K. Hen. Thou doft belie him, Percy, thou dost belie him,
He never did encounter with Glendower;
I tell thee,
He durft as well have met the devil alone,
As Owen Glendower for an enemy.
Art not ashamed? But, firrah, henceforth
Let me not hear you speak of Mortimer:
Send me your prifoners with the speedieft means,
Or you shall hear in fuch a kind from me
As will displease you.-My lord Northumberland,
We license your departure with your son :—
Send us your prifoners, or you'll hear of it.
[Exeunt King HENRY, BLUNT, and Train.
Hot. And if the devil come and roar for them,
I will not fend then :-I will after straight,
And tell him fo; for I will ease my heart,
Although it be with hazard of my head.
North. What, drunk with choler? ftay, and pause a while;
'Zounds, I will speak of him; and let my foul
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 i'the duft,
But I will lift the down-trod Mortimer
As high i'the air as this unthankful king,
As this ingrate and canker'd Bolingbroke.
North. Brother, the king hath made your nephew mad.
[To WORCESTER. Wor. Who ftruck this heat up after I was gone? Hot. He will, forfooth, have all my prifoners;
And when I urg'd the ranfom 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 he not proclaim'd,
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 depos'd, and, fhortly, murdered.
Wor. And for whofe death, we in the world's wide
Live scandaliz'd, and foully spoken of.
Hot. But, foft, I pray you; Did king Richard then Proclaim my brother Edmund Mortimer
He did; myself did hear it.
Hot. Nay, then I cannot blame his coufin king,
That wifh'd him on the barren mountains starv'd.
But fhall it be, that you,―that set the crown
Upon the head of this forgetful man;
And, for his fake, wear the detefted blot
Of murd'rous fubornation,-fhall it be,
That you a world of curses undergo;
Being the agents, or bafe fecond means,
The cords, the ladder, or the hangman rather ?-
O, pardon me, that I defcend fo low,
To show the line, and the predicament,
Wherein you range under this fubtle king.-
Shall it, for fhame, be fpoken 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 fweet lovely rose,
And plant this thorn, this canker, Bolingbroke?
And shall it, in more fhame, 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 the bloody payment of your deaths.
Therefore, I fay,
Peace, coufin, fay no more:
And now I will unclafp a fecret book,
And to your quick-conceiving difcontents
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 fink or fwim :-
Send danger from the east unto the west,
So honour crofs it from the north to fouth,
And let them grapple ;-O! the blood more stirs,
To roufe a lion, than to start a hare.
North. Imagination of fome 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-fac'd 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;
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