Windsor. The Council Chamber.
 Enter the KING, NORTHUMBERLAND, WORCESTER, HOTSPUR,
 SIR WALTER BLUNT, with OTHERS.

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

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.

Northumberland										My lord-

King Henry	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
	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.
	[To NORTHUMBERLAND.]
	You were about to speak.

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
	As is delivered to your majesty.
	Either envy, therefore, or misprision,
	Is guilty of this fault, and not my son.

Hotspur	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 dressed,
	Fresh as a bridegroom, and his chin new reaped
	Showed like a stubble-land at harvest-home.
	He was perfumd 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 in snuff - and still he smiled and talked;
	And as the soldiers bore dead bodies by,
	He called them untaught knaves, unmannerly,
	To bring a slovenly unhandsome corpse
	Betwixt the wind and his nobility.
	With many holiday and lady terms
	He questioned me; amongst the rest demanded
	My prisoners in your majesty's behalf.
	I then, all smarting with my wounds being cold,
	To be so pestered with a popinjay,
	Out of my grief 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 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 thing on earth
	Was parmacity for an inward bruise,
	And that it was great pity, so it was,
	This villainous saltpetre should be digged
	Out of the bowels of the harmless earth,
	Which many a good tall fellow had destroyed
	So cowardly, and but for these vile guns
	He would himself have been a soldier.
	This bald unjointed chat of his, my lord,
	I answered 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 considered, 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	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 betrayed
	The lives of those that he did lead to fight
	Against that great magician, damned Glendower,
	Whose daughter, as we hear, that Earl of March
	Hath lately married. Shall our coffers then
	Be emptied to redeem a traitor home?
	Shall we buy 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 mouthd 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,
	Bloodstaind with these valiant combatants.
	Never did bare and rotten policy
	Colour her working with such deadly wounds,
	Nor never could the noble Mortimer
	Receive so many, and all willingly.
	Then let not him be slandered with revolt.

King Henry	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 license your departure with your son.
	Send us your prisoners, or you will hear of it.
						[Exeunt all but HOTSPUR and NORTHUMBERLAND.

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 cankered Bolingbroke.

Northumberland	Brother, the king hath made your nephew mad.

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 looked pale,
	And on my face he turned an eye of death,
	Trembling even at the name of Mortimer.

Worcester	I cannot blame him: was not he proclaimed,
	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 murderd.

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,
	And plant this thorn, this canker, Bolingbroke?
	And shall it in more shame be further spoken
	That you are fooled, discarded, and shook off
	By him for whom these shames ye underwent?
	No, yet time serves wherein you may redeem
	Your banished honours, and restore yourselves
	Into the good thoughts of the world again;
	Revenge the jeering and disdained contempt
	Of this proud king, who studies day and night
	To answer all the debt he owes to you
	Even with the bloody payment of your deaths.
	Therefore I say-

Worcester							Peace, cousin, say no more.
	And now I will unclasp a secret book,
	And to your quick-conceiving discontents
	I'll read you matter deep and dangerous,
	As full of peril and adventurous spirit
	As to o'erwalk a current roaring loud
	On the unsteadfast footing of a spear.

Hotspur	If he fall in, good night, or sink or swim!
	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!

Northumberland	Imagination of some great exploit
	Drives him beyond the bounds of patience.

Hotspur	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,
	And pluck up drownd 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!

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

Hotspur	I cry you mercy.

Worcester						Those same noble Scots
	That are your prisoners-

Hotspur										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!

Worcester									You start away,
	And lend no ear unto my purposes.
	Those prisoners you shall keep.

Hotspur										Nay, I will; that's flat.
	He said he would not ransom Mortimer,
	Forbade my tongue to speak of Mortimer,
	But I will find him when he lies asleep,
	And in his ear I'll holla "Mortimer!"
	Nay, I'll have a starling shall be taught to speak
	Nothing but "Mortimer", and give it him
	To keep his anger still in motion.

Worcester	Hear you, cousin, a word.

Hotspur	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 have him poisoned with a pot of ale.

Worcester	Farewell, kinsman; I'll talk to you
	When you are better tempered to attend.

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	Why, look you, I am whipped and scourged with rods,
	Nettled, and stung with pismires, when I hear
	Of this vile politician Bolingbroke.
	In Richard's time - what do you call the place?
	A plague upon't, it is in Gloucestershire.
	'Twas where the madcap duke his uncle kept,
	His uncle York; where I first bowed my knee
	Unto this king of smiles, this Bolingbroke.
	'Sblood, when you and he came back from Ravenspurgh.

Northumberland	At Berkeley castle.

Hotspur	You say true.
	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!
	Good uncle, tell your tale; I have done.

Worcester	Nay, if you have not, to it again;
	We'll stay your leisure.

Hotspur									I have done, i'faith.

Worcester	Then once more to your Scottish prisoners.
	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. [To NORTHUMBERLAND.] You, my lord,
	Your son in Scotland being thus employed,
	Shall secretly into the bosom creep
	Of that same noble prelate well-beloved,
	The Archbishop.

Hotspur				Of York, is it not?

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
	Is ruminated, plotted, and set down,
	And only stays but to behold the face
	Of that occasion that shall bring it on.

Hotspur	I smell it. Upon my life it will do well!

Northumberland	Before the game is afoot thou still lett'st slip.

Hotspur	Why, it cannot choose but be a noble plot;
	And then the power of Scotland and of York
	To join with Mortimer, ha?

Worcester										And so they shall.

Hotspur	In faith, it is exceedingly well aimed.

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,
	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.

Hotspur	He does, he does. We'll be revenged on him.

Worcester	Cousin, farewell. No further go in this
	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,
	To bear our fortunes in our own strong arms,
	Which now we hold at much uncertainty.

Northumberland	Farewell, good brother. We shall thrive, I trust.

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