This bald unjointed chat of his, my lord, I answer'd indirectly, as I said;And I beseech you, let not his report Come current for an accusation Betwixt my love and your high majesty. SIR WALTER BLUNT The circumstance consider'd, good my lord, Whate'er Lord Harry Percy then had said To such a person and in such a place, At such a time, with all the rest retold, May reasonably die and never rise To do him wrong or any way impeach What then he said, so he unsay it now. KING HENRY IV Why, yet he 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 my soul, hath wilfully betray'd The lives of those that he did lead to fight Against that 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 but treason? and indent with fears, When they have lost and forfeited themselves?
No, on the barren mountains 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. HOTSPUR Revolted Mortimer!
He never did fall off, my sovereign liege, But by the chance of war; to prove that true Needs no more but one tongue for all those wounds, Those mouthed wounds, which valiantly he took When on the gentle Severn's sedgy 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 in the hollow bank, Bloodstained with these valiant combatants.
Never did base and rotten policy Colour her working with such deadly wounds;Nor could the noble Mortimer Receive so many, and all willingly:
Then let not him be slander'd with revolt. KING HENRY IV Thou dost belie him, Percy, thou dost belie him;He never did encounter with Glendower:
I tell thee, He durst as well have met the devil alone As Owen Glendower for an enemy.
Art thou not ashamed? But, sirrah, henceforth 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. My Lord Northumberland, We licence your departure with your son.
Send us your prisoners, or you will hear of it.
Exeunt King Henry, Blunt, and train HOTSPUR An if 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 hazard of my head. NORTHUMBERLAND What, drunk with choler? stay and pause awhile:
Here comes your uncle.
Re-enter WORCESTER HOTSPUR Speak of Mortimer!
'Zounds, I will speak of him; and let my soul 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 in the dust, But I will lift the down-trod Mortimer As high in the air as this unthankful king, As this ingrate and canker'd Bolingbroke. NORTHUMBERLAND Brother, the king hath made your nephew mad. EARL OF WORCESTER Who struck this heat up after I was gone? HOTSPUR 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. EARL OF WORCESTER I cannot blame him: was not he proclaim'd By Richard that dead is the next of blood? NORTHUMBERLAND 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. EARL OF WORCESTER And for whose death we in the world's wide mouth Live scandalized and foully spoken of. HOTSPUR But soft, I pray you; did King Richard then Proclaim my brother Edmund Mortimer Heir to the crown? NORTHUMBERLAND He did; myself did hear it. HOTSPUR Nay, then I cannot blame his cousin king, That wished him on the barren mountains starve.
But shall it be that you, that set the crown Upon the head of this forgetful man And for his sake wear the detested blot Of murderous subornation, shall it be, That you a world of curses undergo, Being the agents, or base second means, The cords, the ladder, or the hangman rather?
O, pardon me 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 them both in an unjust behalf, As both of you--God pardon it!--have done, To put down Richard, that sweet lovely rose, An 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?