King.
So shaken as we are, so wan ^note with care,
Find we a time for frighted peace to pant,
And breathe short-winded accents of new broils
To be commenced in stronds ^note afar remote.
No more the thirsty entrance ^{note note} of this soil
Shall daub ^note her lips ^note with her own children's blood;
No more shall trenching war channel her fields,
Nor bruise her flowerets ^note with the armed hoofs
Of hostile paces ^note: those opposed eyes ^note,

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 ^note well-beseeming ranks,
March all one way and be no more opposed
Against acquaintance, kindred and allies ^note:
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 ^note now, under whose blessed cross
We are impressed and engaged to fight,
Forthwith a ^note power of English shall we levy ^note;
Whose arms were moulded in their mothers' ^note womb ^note
To chase these ^note pagans in those ^note 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 ^note 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 ^note dear expedience.

West.
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 ^note to fight

Against the irregular and wild Glendower,
Was by the rude hands ^note of that Welshman taken,
A thousand ^note of his people butchered;
Upon whose dead corpse ^note there was such misuse,
Such beastly shameless ^note transformation,
By those Welshwomen done, as may not be
Without much shame retold ^note or spoken of.

King.
It seems then that the tidings of this broil
Brake off our business for the Holy Land.

West.
This match'd with other did ^note, my gracious lord;
For more ^note uneven and unwelcome news
Came from the north and thus it did import ^note:
On Holy-rood day, the gallant Hotspur there,
Young Harry Percy, and brave Archibald,
That ever-valiant and approved Scot, ^note
At Holmedon met ^note,
Where they did spend a sad and bloody hour;
As by discharge of their artillery,
And shape of likelihood, the ^note news was told;
For he that brought them ^note, in the very heat
And pride of their contention did take horse,
Uncertain of the issue any way.

King.
Here is a dear, a true ^note industrious friend,
Sir Walter Blunt, new lighted from his horse,
Stain'd ^note with the variation ^note of each soil

Betwixt that ^note Holmedon and this seat of ours;
And he hath brought us smooth and welcome ^note news.
The Earl of Douglas is discomfited:
Ten thousand bold Scots, two ^note and twenty knights,
Balk'd ^note in their own blood did ^note Sir Walter see
On Holmedon's ^note plains. Of prisoners, Hotspur took
Mordake the ^note Earl of Fife, and ^note eldest son ^note
To ^note beaten Douglas; and the Earl ^note of Athol,
Of Murray ^note, Angus ^note, and ^note Menteith:
And is not this an honourable spoil?
A gallant prize? ha, cousin, is it not?

West.
In faith,
It is a conquest for a prince to boast of. ^note

King.
Yea, there thou makest me sad and makest me sin
In envy that my Lord Northumberland
Should be the father to ^note 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 ^note be proved
That some night-tripping fairy had exchanged
In cradle-clothes our children where they lay ^note,

And call'd ^note mine Percy, his Plantagenet!
Then would I have his Harry, and he mine.
But let him from my thoughts. What think you, coz ^note,
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.

West.
This is his uncle's teaching: this is Worcester,
Malevolent to you in all aspects;
Which makes him prune ^note himself, and bristle up
The crest of youth against your dignity.

King.
But I have sent for him to answer this;
And for this cause awhile we must neglect
Our holy purpose to Jerusalem. ^note
Cousin, on Wednesday next our council we
Will hold at Windsor; so ^note inform ^note the lords:
But come yourself with speed to us again;
For more is to be said and to be done ^note
Than out of anger can be uttered.

West.
I will, my liege. [Exeunt. Scene II. London. An apartment of the Prince's. ^note Enter ^note the Prince of Wales and Falstaff.

Fal.

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

Prince.

Thou art so fat-witted, with drinking of ^note old sack and unbuttoning thee after supper and sleeping upon

benches after noon ^note, 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 ^note superfluous to demand the time of the day.

Fal.

Indeed, you come ^note near me now, Hal; for we that take purses go by the moon and the seven ^note stars, and not by Phœbus, he, ‘that wandering knight so fair.’ And, I prithee ^note, sweet wag, when thou art king ^note, as, God save thy grace,—majesty I should say, for grace thou wilt have none,—

Prince.

What, none?

Fal.

No, by my troth ^note, not so much as will serve to be prologue to an egg and butter.

Prince.

Well, how then? come, roundly, roundly.

Fal.

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 ^note: 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 ^note.

Prince.

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 ^note purse of gold most resolutely snatched on Monday night and most dissolutely spent on Tuesday morning; got with swearing ‘Lay by’ ^note 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 ^note of the gallows.

Fal.

By the Lord ^note, thou sayest true, lad. And is not my ^note hostess of the tavern a most sweet wench?

Prince.

As the ^note honey of Hybla ^note, my old lad of the castle. And is not a buff jerkin a most sweet robe of durance?

Fal.

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.

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

Fal.

Well, thou hast called her ^note to a reckoning many a time and oft.

Prince.

Did I ever call for thee to pay thy part?

Fal.

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

Prince.

Yea, and elsewhere, so far as my coin would stretch; and where it would not, I have used my credit.

Fal.

Yea, and so used it that, were it not ^note here apparent that thou art heir apparent—But ^note, I prithee, sweet wag, shall there be gallows standing in England when thou art king? and resolution thus fobbed ^note as it is with the rusty curb of old father antic the law? Do not thou, when thou art king ^note, hang a thief.

Prince.

No; thou shalt.

Fal.

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

Prince.

Thou judgest false already: I mean, thou shalt have the hanging of the thieves and so become a rare hangman.

Fal.

Well, Hal, well; and in some sort it jumps with my humour as well as waiting in the court, I can tell you.

Prince.

For obtaining of suits?

Fal.

Yea, for obtaining of suits, whereof the hangman hath no lean wardrobe. 'Sblood ^note, I am as melancholy as a gib cat ^note or a lugged bear.

Prince.

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

Fal.

Yea, or the drone of a Lincolnshire ^note bagpipe.

Prince.

What sayest thou to a hare, or the melancholy of Moor-ditch?

Fal.

Thou hast the most unsavoury similes ^note and art indeed the most comparative ^note, rascalliest ^note, sweet young prince. But, Hal, I prithee, trouble me no more with vanity. I would to God ^note 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 ^note, but I marked him not; and yet he talked very wisely, but I regarded him not; and yet he talked wisely, ^note and in ^note the street too.

Prince.

Thou didst well; for wisdom cries out in the streets ^note, and ^note no man regards it.

Fal.

O, thou hast damnable iteration ^note and art indeed able to corrupt a saint. Thou hast done much harm upon ^note me, Hal; God forgive thee for it! Before I knew thee, Hal, I knew nothing; and now am I ^note, 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 ^note, ^note an ^note

I do not, I am a villain: I'll be damned for never a king's son in Christendom.

Prince.

Where shall we take a purse to-morrow, Jack?

Fal.

'Zounds ^note, where thou wilt, lad; I'll make one; an ^note I do not, call me villain and baffle me.

Prince.

I see a good amendment of life in thee; from praying to purse-taking.

Fal.

Why, Hal, 'tis my vocation, Hal; 'tis no sin for a man to labour in his vocation.

Poins! ^note Now shall we know if Gadshill have set a match ^note. 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.

Good morrow, Ned.

Poins.

Good morrow, sweet Hal. What says Monsieur Remorse? what says Sir John Sack and Sugar? Jack! ^note how agrees the devil and thee ^note about thy soul, that thou soldest him on Good-Friday last for a cup of Madeira and a cold capon's leg?

Prince.

Sir John stands to his word, the devil shall have his bargain; for he was never yet ^note a breaker of proverbs: he will give the devil his due ^note.

Poins.

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

Prince.

Else he had been ^note damned for cozening the devil.

Poins.

But, my lads, my lads, to-morrow morning, by four o'clock, early ^note 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 ^note in Eastcheap: we may do it as secure as sleep. If you will go, I will stuff your ^note purses full of crowns; if you will not, tarry at home and be hanged.

Fal.

Hear ye ^note, Yedward; if I tarry at home and go not, I'll hang you for going.

Poins.

You will, chops?

Fal.

Hal, wilt thou make one?

Prince.

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

Fal.

There's neither honesty, manhood, nor good fellowship in thee, nor ^note thou camest not of the blood royal, if thou darest not stand ^note for ten shillings.

Prince.

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

Fal.

Why, that's well said.

Prince.

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

Fal.

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

Prince.

I care not.

Poins.

Sir John, I prithee ^note, leave the prince and me alone: I will lay him down such reasons for this adventure that he shall go.

Fal.

Well, God give thee the spirit of persuasion and him ^note the ears of profiting, that what thou speakest may move and what he hears may be believed, that the true ^note 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.

Farewell, thou ^note latter spring! farewell, Allhallown ^note summer!

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 ^note 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 ^note my shoulders.

Prince.

How ^note 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 ^note have no sooner achieved, but we'll set upon them.

Prince.

Yea ^note, 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 ^note we will change after we leave them: ^note and, sirrah, I have cases of buckram for the nonce, to immask our noted outward garments.

Prince.

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

Poins.

Well, for two of them, I know them to ^note be as true-bred cowards as ever turned back; and for the third ^note, 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 ^note fat rogue will tell us when we meet at supper: how thirty, at least, he fought with; what wards ^note, what blows, what extremities ^note he endured; and in the reproof of this lies ^note the jest.

Prince.

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

necessary and meet me to-morrow ^note night ^note in Eastcheap; there I'll sup. Farewell.

Poins.

Farewell, my lord.

Prince.
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 behaviour 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 ^note;
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 ^note to set it off.
I'll so offend, to make offence a skill;
Redeeming time when men think least I will. [Exit. ^note

^note Scene III. [Footnote: London. The palace. ^note Enter the King, Northumberland, Worcester, Hotspur, Sir Walter Blunt, with others. ^note

King.
My blood hath been too cold and temperate,
Unapt to stir at these indignities,
And you have found me; for ^note accordingly
You tread ^note upon my patience: but be sure
I will from henceforth rather be myself,
Mighty and to be fear'd, than ^note my condition;
Which hath been smooth as oil, soft as young ^note down,
And therefore lost that ^note title of respect
Which the proud soul ^note ne'er ^note pays but to the proud.

Wor.
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 ^note to make so portly.

North.
My lord ^note,—

King.
Worcester ^note, get thee gone; for I do see ^note
Danger and disobedience in thine eye:
O, sir, your presence is too bold and peremptory ^note,
And majesty might never yet endure
The moody frontier ^note of a servant ^note brow.
You have good leave to leave us: when we need
Your use and counsel, we shall send for you. [Exit Wor. ^note

You were about to speak. [To North. ^note

North.
Yea ^note, my good lord.
Those prisoners in your highness' name ^note demanded,
Which Harry Percy here at Holmedon ^note took,
Were ^note, as he says, not with such strength denied
As is ^note deliver'd to your majesty:
Either envy, therefore ^note, or misprision
Is ^note guilty of this fault and not ^note my son.

Hot.
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 ^note 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 ^note in snuff ^{note note}; and still he smiled and talk'd,
And as the soldiers bore ^note 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 ^note
He question'd me; amongst ^note the rest, demanded
My prisoners in your majesty's behalf.

I then, ^note all smarting with my wounds being cold ^note, ^note
To be so pester'd with a popinjay ^note,
Out of my grief and my impatience,
Answer'd neglectingly I know not what,
He should, or he ^note 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 ^note thing on earth
Was parmaceti for an inward bruise;
And that it was great pity, so it was,
This ^note 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 ^note a soldier.
This bald unjointed chat of his, my lord,
I answer'd ^note indirectly, as I said;
And I beseech you, let not his ^note report
Come current for an accusation
Betwixt my love and your high majesty.

Blunt.
The circumstance consider'd, good my lord,
Whate'er Lord ^note Harry Percy then had said
To such a person and in such a place,
At such a time, with all the rest re-told,
May reasonably die and never rise
To do him wrong or any way impeach
What then he said, so he unsay ^note it now.

King.
Why, yet he ^note 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 ^note my soul, hath wilfully betray'd
The lives of those that he did lead to fight
Against that ^note great magician, damn'd Glendower,
Whose daughter, as we hear, the ^note Earl of March
Hath lately married. Shall our coffers, then,
Be emptied to redeem a traitor home?
Shall we buy treason? and indent ^note with fears ^note,
When they have lost and forfeited themselves?
No, on the barren mountains ^note 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.

Hot.
Revolted Mortimer!
He never did fall off, my sovereign liege,
But by ^note the chance of war: to ^note prove that true
Needs no more but one tongue for ^note all those wounds,
Those mouthed wounds, which valiantly he took,
When on the gentle Severn's sedgy ^note 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 ^note in the hollow bank
Bloodstained with these valiant combatants.

Never did base and ^note rotten policy
Colour her working with such deadly wounds;
Nor never ^note could the noble Mortimer
Receive so many, and all willingly:
Then let not him ^note be slander'd with revolt.

King.
Thou dost belie him, Percy, thou dost belie ^note him;
He never did encounter with Glendower:
I tell thee ^note,
He durst as well have met the devil alone
As Owen Glendower for an enemy.
Art thou not ashamed? ^note But, sirrah, henceforth ^note
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 ^note. My Lord Northumberland,
We license your departure with your son.
Send us your prisoners, or you will ^note hear of it. [Exeunt King Henry, Blunt, and train. ^note

Hot.
An if ^note 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 ^note hazard of my head.

North.
What, drunk with choler? stay and pause awhile:
Here comes your uncle.

Re-enter Worcester. ^note

Hot.
Speak of Mortimer!
'Zounds ^note, I will speak of him; and let my soul
Want mercy, if I do not join with him:
Yea, on his part ^note I'll empty all these ^note veins,
And shed my dear blood drop by drop in the ^note dust,
But I will lift the down-trod ^note Mortimer
As high in the ^note air as this unthankful king,
As this ingrate and canker'd Bolingbroke.

North.
Brother, the king hath made your nephew mad.

Wor.
Who struck this heat up after I was gone?

Hot.
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.

Wor.
I cannot blame him: was not he ^note proclaim'd
By Richard that dead is ^note 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 deposed and shortly murdered.

Wor.
And for whose death we in the world's wide mouth
Live ^note scandalized and foully spoken of.

Hot.
But, soft, I pray you; did King Richard then
Proclaim my brother ^note Edmund ^note Mortimer ^note

Heir to the crown?

North.
He did; myself did hear it.

Hot.
Nay, then I cannot blame his cousin king,
That wish'd him on the barren mountains starve ^note.
But shall it be, that you, that set the crown
Upon the head of this forgetful man
And for his sake wear ^note the detested blot
Of murderous subornation ^note, shall it be,
That you a world of curses undergo,
Being the agents, or base second means,
The cords, the ladder, or the hangman ^note rather?
O, pardon me ^note 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 ^note them both in an unjust behalf,
As both of you—God pardon it!—have done,
To put down Richard, that sweet lovely rose,
And 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 ^note 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 ^note
Even with the bloody payment ^note of your deaths ^note:
Therefore, I say,—

Wor.
Peace, cousin, say no more:

And now ^note I will unclasp a secret book,
And to your quick-conceiving ^note discontents ^note
I'll read you ^note matter deep and dangerous,
As full of peril and adventurous spirit
As to o'er-walk a current ^note roaring loud
On the unsteadfast ^note footing ^note of a spear.

Hot.
If he ^note fall in, good night! or sink or swim ^note:
Send danger from the east unto the west,
So honour cross it ^note from the north to south,
And let them grapple: O ^note, 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. ^note
By heaven, methinks it were an ^note 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 ^note all ^note her dignities:
But out upon this half-faced fellowship!

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

Hot.
I cry you mercy.

Wor.
Those same noble Scots

That are your prisoners ^note,—

Hot.
I'll keep them all;
By God ^note, 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.
Nay ^note, 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 ^note ‘Mortimer!’
Nay,
I'll ^note have a starling shall be ^note taught to speak ^note
Nothing but ‘Mortimer,’ and give it him,
To keep his anger still in motion.

Wor.
Hear ^note you, cousin; a word.

Hot.
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 ^note have him poison'd ^note with a pot of ale.

Wor.
Farewell, kinsman: I'll ^note talk to you
When you are better temper'd to attend.

North.
Why, what a wasp-stung ^note and impatient fool
Art thou to break into this woman's mood,
Tying ^note 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 ^note call the place?—
A plague upon it ^note, 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 ^note of smiles, this Bolingbroke,—
'Sblood ^note!—
When you and he came back from Ravenspurgh.

North.
At Berkley-castle.

Hot.
You say true:
Why, what a candy deal of ^note courtesy
This fawning greyhound ^note then did proffer me!
Look, ‘when his ^note infant fortune came to age,’
And ‘gentle Harry Percy,’ and ‘kind cousin;’
O ^note, the devil take such cozeners! God forgive me!
Good uncle, tell your tale; I have ^note done.

Wor.
Nay, if you have not ^note, to it ^note again;
We will ^note stay ^note your leisure ^note.

Hot.
I have done, i' faith ^note.

Wor.
Then once more to your Scottish prisoners.
Deliver them up without their ransom straight,
And make the Douglas' ^note son your only mean
For powers in Scotland; which, for divers reasons
Which I shall send you written, be assured,
Will easily be granted ^note. You, my lord, [To Northumberland.

Your son in Scotland being thus employ'd,
Shall secretly into ^note the bosom creep
Of that same noble prelate, well beloved,
The archbishop.

Hot.
Of ^note York, is it ^note not?

Wor.
True; who bears hard
His brother's death at Bristol ^note, 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. ^note
I smell it: upon ^note my life, it will do well ^note.

North.
Before the game is ^note a-foot, thou still let'st slip.

Hot.
Why ^note, it cannot ^note choose but be a noble plot:
And then the power of Scotland and of York,
To join with Mortimer, ha?

Wor.
And ^note 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;
For, bear ourselves as even as we can,
The king will always think him in our debt,
And think we think ^note ourselves unsatisfied,
Till he ^note hath found a time to pay us home:
And see already how he ^note 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

Than I by letters shall direct your course.
When time is ripe, which will be suddenly ^note,
I'll steal to Glendower and Lord ^note Mortimer ^note;
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, I trust.

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

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