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,-

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'erwalk 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 honor 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.

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 honor 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 honor by the locks;

So he, that doth redeem her thence, might wear,
Without corrival, all her dignities.

But out upon this half-faced fellowship!1

2

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,

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,

1 Half-faced, something imperfect.
2 Shapes created by his imagination.

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;
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.

Wor.

Cousin; a word.

Hear you,

Hot. All studies here I solemnly defy,

Save how to gall and pinch this Bolingbroke.

And that same sword-and-buckler1 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-tongue 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;-

1 "Sword-and-buckler prince," is here used as a term of contempt. The following extracts will help us to the precise meaning of the epithet:-"This field, commonly called West Smithfield, was for many years called Ruffian's Hall, by reason it was the usual place for frayes and common fighting, during the time that sword and bucklers were in use; when every serving man, from the base to the best, carried a buckler at his back, which hung by the hilt or pomel of his sword."-Stowe's Survey of London.

2 The first quarto, 1598, reads wasp-stung, which Steevens thought the true reading. The quarto of 1599 reads wasp-tongue. The folio altered it, unnecessarily, to wasp-tongued.

'Twas where the mad-cap 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 Berkley 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,—
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, 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 assured, Will easily be granted.-You, my lord,

[TO NORTHUMBERLAND.

Your son in Scotland being thus employed,-
Shall secretly into the bosom creep

Of that same noble prelate, well beloved,
The archbishop.

Hot. Of York, is't not?

Wor. True; who bears hard

His brother's death at Bristol, the lord Scroop.

I speak not this in estimation,2

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; upon my life, it will do well.
North. Before the game's afoot, thou still let'st slip.
Hot. Why, it cannot choose but be a noble plot.—

1 i. e. "what a deal of candy courtesy."

2 Conjecture.

And then the power of Scotland, and of York,-
To join with Mortimer, ha?

Wor.
And so they shall.
Hot. In faith, it is exceedingly well aimed.
Wor. And 'tis no little reason bids us speed,
To save our heads by raising of a head;1
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.

Hot. He does, he does; we'll be revenged on him. Wor. Cousin, farewell.-No further go in this,

2

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.

North. Farewell, good brother;—we shall thrive, 1

trust.

Hot. Uncle, adieu.-O, let the hours be short, Till fields, and blows, and groans, applaud our sport! [Exeunt.

1 A body of forces.

2 This was a common address, in Shakspeare's time, to nephews, nieces, and grandchildren. See Holinshed, passim. Hotspur was Worcester's nephew.

ACT II.

SCENE I. Rochester. An Inn Yard.

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! Ost. [Within.] Anon, anon.

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.2

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.3

1 Car. Like a tench? by the mass, there is ne'er a king in Christendom could be better bit than I have been since the first cock.

2 Car. Why, they will allow us ne'er a jorden, and then we leak in your chimney; and your chamber-lie breeds fleas like a loach.1

1 Car. What, ostler! come away and be hanged; come away.

1 Charles' wain was the vulgar name for the constellation called the great bear. It is a corruption of Chorles or Churl's wain. Chorl is frequently used for a countryman, in old books, from the Saxon ceorl.

2 "Out of all cess" is "out of all measure."

3 Dr. Farmer thought tench a mistake for trout; probably alluding to the red spots with which the trout is covered.

4 Mason suggests that "breeds fleas as fast as a loach breeds loaches," may be the meaning of the passage; the loach being reckoned a peculiarly prolific fish.