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Nor. My lord.
King. Worcester get thee gone, for I do fee
Danger and disobedience in thine eye,
O fir your presence is too bold and peremptory,
And maiestie might neuer yet endure
The moody frontier of a feruant * brow,
You haue good leaue to leaue vs : when we need
Your vse and counsel, we shall send for you. Exit Wor.
You were about to speake.
Nort. Yea my good lord.
Those prisoners in your highnesse name demanded,
Which Harry Percy here at Holmedon tooke,
Were as he sayes, not with such strength denied,
As he + delivered to your maiesty.
Either enuy therefore, or misprision
Is guilty of this fault, and not my sonne,
Hots. My liege, I did deny no prisoners,
But I remember when the fight was done,
When I was drie with rage and extreame toyle,
Breathles and faint, leaning vpon my sword,
Came there a certaine lord, neat and trimly drest,
Fresh as a bridgroome, and his chin new reapt,
Shewd like a stubble land at haruest home:
He was perfumed like a milliner,
And twix his finger and his thum he helde,
A pouncet boxe, which euer and anon
He gaue his nose, and tookt away againe,
Who therewith angry, when it next came there,
Tookt it in snuffe, and still he smilde and talkte,
And as the souldiers bore dead bodies by,
He calde them vntaught knaues, vnmannerly,
To bring a slouenly vnhand-some coarse,
Betwixt the wind and his nobility,
With many holy day and lady tearmes.
He questioned me: among the rest demanded,
My prisoners in your maiesties behalfe.
I then, all smarting with my wounds being cold,
To be so pestered with a popingay,
Out of my griefe and my impatience,
Answered neglectingly, I know not what,
He should, or he should not, for he made me mad,
To see him shine so briske, and smell so sweet,
And talke so like a waiting gentlewoman,
Of guns and drums, and wounds, God faue the marke :
And telling me, the soueraignest thing on earth;
Was parmacity for an inward bruse,
And that it was great pitty, so it was,
This villanous faltpeter should be digd
Out of the bowels of the harmeles earth;
Which many a good tall fellow had destroyd
So cowardly: and but for these vile guns,
He would haue been himselfe a souldiour.
This bald vnioynted chat of his (my lord)
I answered indirectely (as I sayd)
And I beseech you, let not this report
Come currant for an accusation,
Betwixt my loue, and your high maiesty:
Blunt. The circumstance considered, good my lord
What er'e Harrie Percie then had said
To such a person, and in such a place,
At such a time, with all the rest retold,
May resonablie die, and neuer rise,
To doe him wrong, or any way impeach
What then he said, fo he vnfay it now.
King. Why yet he doth deny his prisoners,
But with prouiso and exception,
That we at our owne charge shall ransome straight
His brother in law, the folish Mortimer,
Who in my soule hath wilfully betraide,
The liues of those, that he did lead to fight,
Against the great magitian, damned Glendower,
Whose daughter as we heare, the earle of March,
Hath lately married ? shall our coffers then,
Be emptied to redeeme a traitor home?
Shall we buy treason and indent with feares,
When they haue loft and forfeited themselues.
No, on the barren mountaine let him sterue,
For I shall neuer hold that man my friend,
Whose tongue shall alke me for one penny cost,
To ransome home reuolted Mortimer.
Hot. Reuolted Mortimer?
He neuer did fall off, my soueraigne liege,
But by the chance of warre! to proue that true,
Needs no more but one tongue: for all those wounds,
Those mouthed woundes which valiantly he tooke
When on the gentle Scuerns siedgie banke
In single opposition hand to hand,
He did confound the best part of an houre
In changing hardiment with great Glendower, ,
Three times they breath'd, and three times they did drinke,
Vpon agreement of swift Seuerns floud
Who then affrighted with their bloody lookes,
Ran fearefully among the trembling reedes,
And hid his crispe-head in the hollow banke,
Bloud-stained with these valiant combatans,
Neuer did bare and rotten policy
Colour her working with such deadly wounds,
Nor neuer could the noble Mortimer
Receiue so many, and all willingly:
Then let not him be slandered with reuolt.
King. Thou dost bely him Percy, thou dost bely him, He neuer did encounter with Glendower, I tell thee, he durft as well haue met the diuell alone, As Owen Glendower for an enemy. Art thou not asham'd ? but firra, henceforth Let me not heare you speake of Mortimer, Send me your prisoners with the speediest meanes, Or you shall heare in such a kind from me, As will displease you. My lord Northumberland, We licence your departure with your sonne, Send vs your prisoners, or you will heare of it.
Exit king. Hot. And if the diuell come and roare 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 head.
Nor. What? drunke with choler ? stay and pause a while, Here comes your vncle
Hot. Speake of Mortimer ?
Zounds I will speake of him, and let my soule
Want mercy if I do not ioyne with him:
Yea on his part, Ile empty all these + veines.
And shead my deare bloud, drop by drop i'th dust;
But I will lift the downe-trod Mortimer,
As high in’th ayre as this vnthankfull king,
As this ing ate and cankred Bullingbrooke.
Nor. Brother the king hath made your nephew mad.
Wor. Who strooke this heate vp after I was gone?
Hot. He will forsooth haue all my prisoners :
And when I vrg'd the ransome once againe
Of my wiues brother, then his cheeke lookt pale;
And on my face he turnd an eye of death,
Trembling euen at the name of Mortimer.
Wor. I cannot blame him, was not he procliamd
By Richard that dead is, the next of bloud ?
Nor. He was; I heard the proclamation,
And then it was, when the vnhappy king,
(Whose wrongs in vs God pardon) did set forth
V pon his Irisb expedition ;
From whence he intercepted, did returne
To be depos'd and shortly murdered.
Wor. And for whose death, we in the worlds wide-mouth, Liue scandaliz’d and fouly spoken off,
Hot. But soft I pray you, did king Richard then
Proclame my brother Mortimer,
Heire to the crowne?
Nor. He did, my selfe did heare it.
Hot. Nay then I cannot blame his coosin king,
That wisht him on the barren mountaines starue.
But shall it be that you that fet the crowne
Vpon the head of this forgetfull-man,
And for his fake weare the detested blot
Of murtherous subornation? mall it be
That you a world of curses vodergo,
Being the agents, or base second meanes,
The cordes, the laddar, or the hangman rather ?
O pardon if that / * defcend so low,
To Thew the line and the predicament,
Wherein you range vnder this subtil king.
Shall it for shame be spoken in these dayes,
Or fill vp cronicles in time to come,
That men of your nobility and power
Did gage them both in an vniuft behalfe,
(As both of you God pardon it, haue done)
To put downe Richard that sweet louely rose,
And plant this thorne, this canker Bullingbrooke ?