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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!

Wor. He apprehends a world of figures 1 here, But not the form of what he should attend.Good cousin, give me audience for awhile.

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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,

And lend no ear unto my purposes.

Those prisoners you shall keep.

Hot.
He said, he would not ransom Mortimer;
Forbad my tongue to speak of Mortimer :

Nay, I will; that's flat :

1 Shapes created by his imagination.

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. Hear you, cousin; a word.

Hot. All studies here I solemnly defy,1
Save how to gall and pinch this Bolingbroke,
And that same sword-and-buckler 2 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.
Wor. Farewell, kinsman! I will talk to you,
When you are better temper'd 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 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 't!-it is in Glostershire ;-

'Twas where the mad-cap duke his uncle kept, His uncle York ;—where I first bow'd my knee

I Refuse.

2 The term for a turbulent, quarrelsome fellow.

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 employ'd,

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,

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.1

Hot. Why, it cannot choose but be a noble

plot :

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 aim'd.
Wor. And 'tis no little reason bids us speed,
To save our heads by raising of a head: 2
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 farther 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 let slip is to loose the greyhound.

2 A body of forces.

To bear our fortunes in our own strong arms,
Which now we hold at much uncertainty.

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.

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.?

Enter another CARRIER.

2 Car. Pease and beans are as dank3 here as a dog, and that is the next way to give poor jades the

The name of his horse.

2 Measure.

3 Wet.

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