SCENE III.
Warkworth. A room in the castle.
5 noteEnter Hotspur, reading a letter.
—But, for mine own part, my lord, I could be well
contented to be there, in respect of the love I bear your
house.—He could be contented,—Why, is he not then?
In respect of the love he bears our house:—he shews
in this, he loves his own barn better than he loves
our house. Let me see some more. The purpose you
undertake, is dangerous,—Why, that's certain, 'tis dangerous
to take a cold, to sleep, to drink: but I tell
you, my lord fool, out of this nettle, danger, we pluck
this flower, safety. The purpose you undertake, is dangerous;
the friends you have named, uncertain; the time itself
-- 307 --
unsorted; and your whole plot too light, for the counterpoize
of so great an opposition.—Say you so, say you
so? I say unto you again, you are a shallow cowardly
hind, and you lie. What a lack-brain is this? By
the Lord, our plot is a good plot, as ever was laid;
our friends true and constant: a good plot, good
friends, and full of expectation: an excellent plot,
very good friends. What a frosty-spirited rogue is
this? Why, my lord of York6 note commends the plot,
and the general course of the action. By this hand,
if I were now by this rascal, 7 note
I could brain him with
his lady's fan. Is there not my father, my uncle,
and myself? lord Edmund Mortimer, my lord of
York, and Owen Glendower? Is there not, besides,
the Douglas? Have I not all their letters, to meet
-- 308 --
me in arms by the ninth of the next month? and are
they not, some of them, set forward already? What
a pagan rascal is this? an infidel? Ha! you shall see
now, in very sincerity of fear and cold heart, will he
to the king, and lay open all our proceedings. O, I
could divide myself, and go to buffets, for moving
such a dish of skimm'd milk with so honourable an
action! Hang him! let him tell the king, we are
prepared9Q0676: I will set forward to-night.
Enter Lady Percy.
How now, Kate8 note? I must leave you within these two hours.
Lady.
O my good lord, why are you thus alone?
For what offence have I, this fortnight, been
A banish'd woman from my Harry's bed?
Tell me, sweet lord, what is't that takes from thee
Thy stomach, pleasure, and thy golden sleep?
Why dost thou bend thine eyes upon the earth;
And start so often, when thou sit'st alone?
Why hast thou lost the fresh blood in thy cheeks;
And given my treasures, and my rights of thee,
To thick-ey'd musing, and curs'd melancholy?
In thy faint slumbers9Q0677, I by thee have watch'd,
And heard thee murmur tales of iron wars:
Speak terms of manage to thy bounding steed;
Cry, Courage!—to the field! And thou hast talk'd
-- 309 --
Of sallies, and retires9 note; of trenches, tents,
Of palisadoes, frontiers1 note
, parapets;
Of basilisks2 note
, of cannon, culverin;
Of prisoners' ransom, and of soldiers slain,
And all the 'currents of a heady fight.
Thy spirit within thee hath been so at war,
And thus hath so bestir'd thee in thy sleep,
That beads of sweat have stood upon thy brow,
Like bubbles in a late-disturbed stream:
And in thy face strange motions have appear'd,
Such as we see when men restrain their breath
On some great sudden haste. O, what portents are these?
Some heavy business hath my lord in hand,
-- 310 --
And I must know it, else he loves me not.
Hot.
What, ho! is Gilliams with the packet gone?
Enter Servant.
Serv.
He is, my lord, an hour ago.
Hot.
Hath Butler brought those horses from the sheriff?
Serv.
One horse, my lord, he brought even now.
Hot.
What horse? a roan, a crop-ear, is it not?
Serv.
It is, my lord.
Hot.
That roan shall be my throne.
Well, I will back him straight: O esperance!—
Bid Butler lead him forth into the park.
[Exit Serv.
Lady.
But hear you, my lord.
Hot.
What say'st thou, my lady?
Lady.
What is it carries you away?
Hot.
Why, my horse, my love, my horse.
Lady.
3 noteOut, you mad-headed ape!
A weazle hath not such a deal of spleen,
As you are tost with.
In sooth, I'll know your business, Harry, that I will.
I fear, my brother Mortimer doth stir
About his title; and hath sent for you,
To line his enterprize: But if you go—
Hot.
So far afoot, I shall be weary, love.
Lady.
Come, come, you paraquito, answer me
Directly to this question that I ask.
In faith, I'll break thy little finger, Harry,9Q0679
An if thou wilt not tell me all things true.
Hot.
4 note
Away,
-- 311 --
Away, you trifler! Love? I love thee not,
I care not for thee, Kate; this is no world,
To play with 5 note
mammets, and to tilt with lips:
We must have bloody noses, and 6 note
crack'd crowns,
And pass them current too.—Gods me, my horse!—
What say'st thou, Kate? what would'st thou have with me?
Lady.
Do you not love me? do you not, indeed?
Well, do not then; for, since you love me not,
I will not love myself. Do you not love me?
Nay, tell me, if you speak in jest, or no.
Hot.
Come, wilt thou see me ride?
And when I am o'horse-back, I will swear
I love thee infinitely. But hark you, Kate;
-- 312 --
I must not have you henceforth question me
Whither I go, nor reason whereabout:
Whither I must, I must; and, to conclude,
This evening must I leave you, gentle Kate.
I know you wise; but yet no further wise,
Than Harry Percy's wife: constant you are;
But yet a woman: and for secresy,
No lady closer; for I well believe,
7 noteThou wilt not utter what thou dost not know;
And so far will I trust thee, gentle Kate.
Lady.
How! so far?
Hot.
Not an inch further. But hark you, Kate:
Whither I go, thither shall you go too;
To-day will I set forth, to-morrow you.—
Will this content you, Kate?
Lady.
It must, of force.
[Exeunt.
Samuel Johnson [1778], The plays of William Shakspeare. In ten volumes. With the corrections and illustrations of various commentators; to which are added notes by Samuel Johnson and George Steevens. The second edition, Revised and Augmented (Printed for C. Bathurst [and] W. Strahan [etc.], London) [word count] [S10901].
