Please wait

The text you requested is loading.
This shouldn't take more than a minute, depending on
the speed of your Internet connection.

progress graphic

Priscian! a little scratched,'t will serve.

      — Love's Labour's Lost, Act V Scene 1


Plays  +  Sonnets  +  Poems  +  Concordance  +  Advanced Search  +  About OSS

History of Henry IV, Part I

Act I

print/save print/save view

Scene 1. London. The palace.

Scene 2. London. An apartment of the Prince’s.

Scene 3. London. The palace.


Act I, Scene 1

London. The palace.

      next scene .


  • Henry IV. So shaken as we are, so wan with care,
    Find we a time for frighted peace to pant,
    And breathe short-winded accents of new broils
    To be commenced in strands afar remote. 5
    No more the thirsty entrance of this soil
    Shall daub her lips with her own children's blood;
    Nor more shall trenching war channel her fields,
    Nor bruise her flowerets with the armed hoofs
    Of hostile paces: those opposed eyes, 10
    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 well-beseeming ranks, 15
    March all one way and be no more opposed
    Against acquaintance, kindred and allies:
    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, 20
    Whose soldier now, under whose blessed cross
    We are impressed and engaged to fight,
    Forthwith a power of English shall we levy;
    Whose arms were moulded in their mothers' womb
    To chase these pagans in those holy fields 25
    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 old,
    And bootless 'tis to tell you we will go: 30
    Therefore we meet not now. Then let me hear
    Of you, my gentle cousin Westmoreland,
    What yesternight our council did decree
    In forwarding this dear expedience.
  • Earl of Westmoreland. My liege, this haste was hot in question, 35
    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 to fight 40
    Against the irregular and wild Glendower,
    Was by the rude hands of that Welshman taken,
    A thousand of his people butchered;
    Upon whose dead corpse there was such misuse,
    Such beastly shameless transformation, 45
    By those Welshwomen done as may not be
    Without much shame retold or spoken of.
  • Henry IV. It seems then that the tidings of this broil
    Brake off our business for the Holy Land.
  • Earl of Westmoreland. This match'd with other did, my gracious lord; 50
    For more uneven and unwelcome news
    Came from the north and thus it did import:
    On Holy-rood day, the gallant Hotspur there,
    Young Harry Percy and brave Archibald,
    That ever-valiant and approved Scot, 55
    At Holmedon met,
    Where they did spend a sad and bloody hour,
    As by discharge of their artillery,
    And shape of likelihood, the news was told;
    For he that brought them, in the very heat 60
    And pride of their contention did take horse,
    Uncertain of the issue any way.
  • Henry IV. Here is a dear, a true industrious friend,
    Sir Walter Blunt, new lighted from his horse.
    Stain'd with the variation of each soil 65
    Betwixt that Holmedon and this seat of ours;
    And he hath brought us smooth and welcome news.
    The Earl of Douglas is discomfited:
    Ten thousand bold Scots, two and twenty knights,
    Balk'd in their own blood did Sir Walter see 70
    On Holmedon's plains. Of prisoners, Hotspur took
    Mordake the Earl of Fife, and eldest son
    To beaten Douglas; and the Earl of Athol,
    Of Murray, Angus, and Menteith:
    And is not this an honourable spoil? 75
    A gallant prize? ha, cousin, is it not?
  • Henry IV. Yea, there thou makest me sad and makest me sin
    In envy that my Lord Northumberland 80
    Should be the father to 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, 85
    See riot and dishonour stain the brow
    Of my young Harry. O that it could be proved
    That some night-tripping fairy had exchanged
    In cradle-clothes our children where they lay,
    And call'd mine Percy, his Plantagenet! 90
    Then would I have his Harry, and he mine.
    But let him from my thoughts. What think you, coz,
    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, 95
    I shall have none but Mordake Earl of Fife.
  • Earl of Westmoreland. This is his uncle's teaching; this is Worcester,
    Malevolent to you in all aspects;
    Which makes him prune himself, and bristle up
    The crest of youth against your dignity. 100
  • Henry IV. But I have sent for him to answer this;
    And for this cause awhile we must neglect
    Our holy purpose to Jerusalem.
    Cousin, on Wednesday next our council we
    Will hold at Windsor; so inform the lords: 105
    But come yourself with speed to us again;
    For more is to be said and to be done
    Than out of anger can be uttered.


. previous scene      

Act I, Scene 2

London. An apartment of the Prince’s.

      next scene .


  • Falstaff. Now, Hal, what time of day is it, lad?
  • Henry V. Thou art so fat-witted, with drinking of old sack
    and unbuttoning thee after supper and sleeping upon
    benches after noon, that thou hast forgotten to 115
    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 120
    a fair hot wench in flame-coloured taffeta, I see no
    reason why thou shouldst be so superfluous to demand
    the time of the day.
  • Falstaff. Indeed, you come near me now, Hal; for we that take
    purses go by the moon and the seven stars, and not 125
    by Phoebus, he,'that wandering knight so fair.' And,
    I prithee, sweet wag, when thou art king, as, God
    save thy grace,—majesty I should say, for grace
    thou wilt have none,—
  • Falstaff. No, by my troth, not so much as will serve to
    prologue to an egg and butter.
  • Henry V. Well, how then? come, roundly, roundly.
  • Falstaff. Marry, then, sweet wag, when thou art king, let not
    us that are squires of the night's body be called 135
    thieves of the day's beauty: 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. 140
  • Henry V. 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 purse of gold
    most resolutely snatched on Monday night and most 145
    dissolutely spent on Tuesday morning; got with
    swearing 'Lay by' 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 of the gallows.
  • Falstaff. By the Lord, thou sayest true, lad. And is not my 150
    hostess of the tavern a most sweet wench?
  • Henry V. As the honey of Hybla, my old lad of the castle. And
    is not a buff jerkin a most sweet robe of durance?
  • Falstaff. How now, how now, mad wag! what, in thy quips and
    thy quiddities? what a plague have I to do with a 155
    buff jerkin?
  • Henry V. Why, what a pox have I to do with my hostess of the tavern?
  • Falstaff. Well, thou hast called her to a reckoning many a
    time and oft.
  • Henry V. Did I ever call for thee to pay thy part? 160
  • Falstaff. No; I'll give thee thy due, thou hast paid all there.
  • Henry V. Yea, and elsewhere, so far as my coin would stretch;
    and where it would not, I have used my credit.
  • Falstaff. Yea, and so used it that were it not here apparent
    that thou art heir apparent—But, I prithee, sweet 165
    wag, shall there be gallows standing in England when
    thou art king? and resolution thus fobbed as it is
    with the rusty curb of old father antic the law? Do
    not thou, when thou art king, hang a thief.
  • Falstaff. Shall I? O rare! By the Lord, I'll be a brave judge.
  • Henry V. Thou judgest false already: I mean, thou shalt have
    the hanging of the thieves and so become a rare hangman.
  • Falstaff. Well, Hal, well; and in some sort it jumps with my
    humour as well as waiting in the court, I can tell 175
  • Falstaff. Yea, for obtaining of suits, whereof the hangman
    hath no lean wardrobe. 'Sblood, I am as melancholy
    as a gib cat or a lugged bear. 180
  • Henry V. Or an old lion, or a lover's lute.
  • Falstaff. Yea, or the drone of a Lincolnshire bagpipe.
  • Henry V. What sayest thou to a hare, or the melancholy of
  • Falstaff. Thou hast the most unsavoury similes and art indeed 185
    the most comparative, rascalliest, sweet young
    prince. But, Hal, I prithee, trouble me no more
    with vanity. I would to God 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 190
    street about you, sir, but I marked him not; and yet
    he talked very wisely, but I regarded him not; and
    yet he talked wisely, and in the street too.
  • Henry V. Thou didst well; for wisdom cries out in the
    streets, and no man regards it. 195
  • Falstaff. O, thou hast damnable iteration and art indeed able
    to corrupt a saint. Thou hast done much harm upon
    me, Hal; God forgive thee for it! Before I knew
    thee, Hal, I knew nothing; and now am I, if a man
    should speak truly, little better than one of the 200
    wicked. I must give over this life, and I will give
    it over: by the Lord, and I do not, I am a villain:
    I'll be damned for never a king's son in
  • Henry V. Where shall we take a purse tomorrow, Jack? 205
  • Falstaff. 'Zounds, where thou wilt, lad; I'll make one; an I
    do not, call me villain and baffle me.
  • Henry V. I see a good amendment of life in thee; from praying
    to purse-taking.
  • Falstaff. Why, Hal, 'tis my vocation, Hal; 'tis no sin for a 210
    man to labour in his vocation.
    [Enter POINS]
    Poins! Now shall we know if Gadshill have set a
    match. O, if men were to be saved by merit, what
    hole in hell were hot enough for him? This is the 215
    most omnipotent villain that ever cried 'Stand' to
    a true man.
  • Edward Poins. Good morrow, sweet Hal. What says Monsieur Remorse?
    what says Sir John Sack and Sugar? Jack! how 220
    agrees the devil and thee about thy soul, that thou
    soldest him on Good-Friday last for a cup of Madeira
    and a cold capon's leg?
  • Henry V. Sir John stands to his word, the devil shall have
    his bargain; for he was never yet a breaker of 225
    proverbs: he will give the devil his due.
  • Edward Poins. Then art thou damned for keeping thy word with the devil.
  • Henry V. Else he had been damned for cozening the devil.
  • Edward Poins. But, my lads, my lads, to-morrow morning, by four
    o'clock, early at Gadshill! there are pilgrims going 230
    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 in Eastcheap: we may do it 235
    as secure as sleep. If you will go, I will stuff
    your purses full of crowns; if you will not, tarry
    at home and be hanged.
  • Falstaff. Hear ye, Yedward; if I tarry at home and go not,
    I'll hang you for going. 240
  • Henry V. Who, I rob? I a thief? not I, by my faith.
  • Falstaff. There's neither honesty, manhood, nor good
    fellowship in thee, nor thou camest not of the blood 245
    royal, if thou darest not stand for ten shillings.
  • Henry V. Well then, once in my days I'll be a madcap.
  • Henry V. Well, come what will, I'll tarry at home.
  • Falstaff. By the Lord, I'll be a traitor then, when thou art king. 250
  • Edward Poins. Sir John, I prithee, leave the prince and me alone:
    I will lay him down such reasons for this adventure
    that he shall go.
  • Falstaff. Well, God give thee the spirit of persuasion and him 255
    the ears of profiting, that what thou speakest may
    move and what he hears may be believed, that the
    true 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. 260
  • Henry V. Farewell, thou latter spring! farewell, All-hallown summer!

[Exit Falstaff]

  • Edward 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 and Gadshill 265
    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 my shoulders.
  • Henry V. How shall we part with them in setting forth? 270
  • Edward 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 have
    no sooner achieved, but we'll set upon them. 275
  • Henry V. Yea, but 'tis like that they will know us by our
    horses, by our habits and by every other
    appointment, to be ourselves.
  • Edward Poins. Tut! our horses they shall not see: I'll tie them
    in the wood; our vizards we will change after we 280
    leave them: and, sirrah, I have cases of buckram
    for the nonce, to immask our noted outward garments.
  • Henry V. Yea, but I doubt they will be too hard for us.
  • Edward Poins. Well, for two of them, I know them to be as
    true-bred cowards as ever turned back; and for the 285
    third, 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 fat rogue will
    tell us when we meet at supper: how thirty, at
    least, he fought with; what wards, what blows, what 290
    extremities he endured; and in the reproof of this
    lies the jest.
  • Henry V. Well, I'll go with thee: provide us all things
    necessary and meet me to-morrow night in Eastcheap;
    there I'll sup. Farewell. 295

[Exit Poins]

  • Henry V. I know you all, and will awhile uphold
    The unyoked humour of your idleness:
    Yet herein will I imitate the sun, 300
    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 305
    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. 310
    So, when this loose behavior 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;
    And like bright metal on a sullen ground, 315
    My reformation, glittering o'er my fault,
    Shall show more goodly and attract more eyes
    Than that which hath no foil to set it off.
    I'll so offend, to make offence a skill;
    Redeeming time when men think least I will. 320


. previous scene      

Act I, Scene 3

London. The palace.



  • Henry IV. My blood hath been too cold and temperate,
    Unapt to stir at these indignities,
    And you have found me; for accordingly 325
    You tread upon my patience: but be sure
    I will from henceforth rather be myself,
    Mighty and to be fear'd, than my condition;
    Which hath been smooth as oil, soft as young down,
    And therefore lost that title of respect 330
    Which the proud soul ne'er pays but to the proud.
  • Earl of Worcester. 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 to make so portly. 335
  • Henry IV. Worcester, get thee gone; for I do see
    Danger and disobedience in thine eye:
    O, sir, your presence is too bold and peremptory,
    And majesty might never yet endure 340
    The moody frontier of a servant brow.
    You have good leave to leave us: when we need
    Your use and counsel, we shall send for you.
    [Exit Worcester]
    You were about to speak. 345
    [To North]
  • Earl of Northumberland. Yea, my good lord.
    Those prisoners in your highness' name demanded,
    Which Harry Percy here at Holmedon took,
    Were, as he says, not with such strength denied 350
    As is deliver'd to your majesty:
    Either envy, therefore, or misprison
    Is guilty of this fault and not my son.
  • Hotspur (Henry Percy). My liege, I did deny no prisoners.
    But I remember, when the fight was done, 355
    When I was dry with rage and extreme toil,
    Breathless and faint, leaning upon my sword,
    Came there a certain lord, neat, and trimly dress'd,
    Fresh as a bridegroom; and his chin new reap'd
    Show'd like a stubble-land at harvest-home; 360
    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, 365
    Took it in snuff; and still he smiled and talk'd,
    And as the soldiers bore dead bodies by,
    He call'd them untaught knaves, unmannerly,
    To bring a slovenly unhandsome corse
    Betwixt the wind and his nobility. 370
    With many holiday and lady terms
    He question'd me; amongst the rest, demanded
    My prisoners in your majesty's behalf.
    I then, all smarting with my wounds being cold,
    To be so pester'd with a popinjay, 375
    Out of my grief and my impatience,
    Answer'd neglectingly I know not what,
    He should or he should not; for he made me mad
    To see him shine so brisk and smell so sweet
    And talk so like a waiting-gentlewoman 380
    Of guns and drums and wounds,—God save the mark!—
    And telling me the sovereign'st thing on earth
    Was parmaceti for an inward bruise;
    And that it was great pity, so it was,
    This villanous salt-petre should be digg'd 385
    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 a soldier.
    This bald unjointed chat of his, my lord, 390
    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.
  • Blunt. The circumstance consider'd, good my lord, 395
    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 400
    What then he said, so he unsay it now.
  • 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; 405
    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, 410
    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 415
    Whose tongue shall ask me for one penny cost
    To ransom home revolted Mortimer.
  • Hotspur (Henry Percy). Revolted Mortimer!
    He never did fall off, my sovereign liege,
    But by the chance of war; to prove that true 420
    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 425
    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, 430
    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; 435
    Nor could the noble Mortimer
    Receive so many, and all willingly:
    Then let not him be slander'd with revolt.
  • Henry IV. Thou dost belie him, Percy, thou dost belie him;
    He never did encounter with Glendower: 440
    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: 445
    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. 450

[Exeunt King Henry, Blunt, and train]

  • Hotspur (Henry Percy). 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. 455

[Re-enter WORCESTER]

  • Hotspur (Henry Percy). Speak of Mortimer!
    'Zounds, I will speak of him; and let my soul 460
    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, 465
    As this ingrate and canker'd Bolingbroke.
  • Hotspur (Henry Percy). He will, forsooth, have all my prisoners;
    And when I urged the ransom once again 470
    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? 475
  • Earl of 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 480
    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 (Henry Percy). But soft, I pray you; did King Richard then
    Proclaim my brother Edmund Mortimer 485
    Heir to the crown?
  • Hotspur (Henry Percy). 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 490
    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, 495
    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, 500
    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, 505
    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?
    No; yet time serves wherein you may redeem 510
    Your banish'd 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 515
    Even with the bloody payment of your deaths:
    Therefore, I say—
  • Earl of Worcester. Peace, cousin, say no more:
    And now I will unclasp a secret book,
    And to your quick-conceiving discontents 520
    I'll read you matter deep and dangerous,
    As full of peril and adventurous spirit
    As to o'er-walk a current roaring loud
    On the unsteadfast footing of a spear.
  • Hotspur (Henry Percy). If he fall in, good night! or sink or swim: 525
    Send danger from the east unto the west,
    So honour 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!
  • Hotspur (Henry Percy). By heaven, methinks it were an 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, 535
    And pluck up drowned honour by the locks;
    So he that doth redeem her thence might wear
    Without corrival, all her dignities:
    But out upon this half-faced fellowship!
  • Earl of Worcester. He apprehends a world of figures here, 540
    But not the form of what he should attend.
    Good cousin, give me audience for a while.
  • Hotspur (Henry Percy). I'll keep them all;
    By God, 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.
  • Earl of Worcester. You start away 550
    And lend no ear unto my purposes.
    Those prisoners you shall keep.
  • Hotspur (Henry Percy). Nay, I will; that's flat:
    He said he would not ransom Mortimer;
    Forbad my tongue to speak of Mortimer; 555
    But I will find him when he lies asleep,
    And in his ear I'll holla 'Mortimer!'
    I'll have a starling shall be taught to speak
    Nothing but 'Mortimer,' and give it him 560
    To keep his anger still in motion.
  • Hotspur (Henry Percy). All studies here I solemnly defy,
    Save how to gall and pinch this Bolingbroke:
    And that same sword-and-buckler Prince of Wales, 565
    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.
  • Earl of Worcester. Farewell, kinsman: I'll talk to you
    When you are better temper'd to attend. 570
  • Earl of Northumberland. Why, what a wasp-stung and impatient fool
    Art thou to break into this woman's mood,
    Tying thine ear to no tongue but thine own!
  • Hotspur (Henry Percy). Why, look you, I am whipp'd and scourged with rods,
    Nettled and stung with pismires, when I hear 575
    Of this vile politician, Bolingbroke.
    In Richard's time,—what do you call the place?—
    A plague upon it, it is in Gloucestershire;
    'Twas where the madcap duke his uncle kept,
    His uncle York; where I first bow'd my knee 580
    Unto this king of smiles, this Bolingbroke,—
    When you and he came back from Ravenspurgh.
  • Hotspur (Henry Percy). You say true: 585
    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! 590
    Good uncle, tell your tale; I have done.
  • Earl of Worcester. Then once more to your Scottish prisoners. 595
    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, 600
    [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. 605
  • Earl of Worcester. 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 610
    Is ruminated, plotted and set down,
    And only stays but to behold the face
    Of that occasion that shall bring it on.
  • Hotspur (Henry Percy). Why, it cannot choose but be a noble plot;
    And then the power of Scotland and of York,
    To join with Mortimer, ha?
  • Earl of Worcester. 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 ourselves unsatisfied, 625
    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.
  • Earl of Worcester. Cousin, farewell: no further go in this 630
    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, 635
    To bear our fortunes in our own strong arms,
    Which now we hold at much uncertainty.
  • Hotspur (Henry Percy). Uncle, Adieu: O, let the hours be short
    Till fields and blows and groans applaud our sport! 640