William Shakespeare - King Henry the Fourth, Part 1

KING HENRY IV

My blood hath been too cold and temperate,

Unapt to stir at these indignities,And you have found me; for accordinglyYou tread upon my patience: but be sureI 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 respectWhich 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 handsHave holp to make so portly.

NORTHUMBERLAND

My lord.--

KING 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 endureThe moody frontier of a servant brow.You have good leave to leave us: when we needYour use and counsel, we shall send for you.

Exit Worcester

You were about to speak.

To North

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 deniedAs is deliver'd to your majesty:Either envy, therefore, or misprisonIs 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 dress'd,Fresh as a bridegroom; and his chin new reap'dShow'd like a stubble-land at harvest-home;He was perfumed like a milliner;And 'twixt his finger and his thumb he heldA pouncet-box, which ever and anonHe 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 talk'd,And as the soldiers bore dead bodies by,He call'd them untaught knaves, unmannerly,To bring a slovenly unhandsome corseBetwixt the wind and his nobility.With many holiday and lady termsHe question'd me; amongst the rest, demandedMy prisoners in your majesty's behalf.I then, all smarting with my wounds being cold,To be so pester'd with a popinjay,Out of my grief and my impatience,Answer'd neglectingly I know not what,He should or he should not; for he made me madTo see him shine so brisk and smell so sweetAnd talk so like a waiting-gentlewomanOf guns and drums and wounds,--God save the mark!--And telling me the sovereign'st thing on earthWas parmaceti for an inward bruise;And that it was great pity, so it was,This villanous salt-petre should be digg'dOut of the bowels of the harmless earth,Which many a good tall fellow had destroy'dSo cowardly; and but for these vile guns,He would himself have been a soldier.This bald unjointed chat of his, my lord,I answer'd indirectly, as I said;And I beseech you, let not his reportCome current for an accusationBetwixt my love and your high majesty.

SIR WALTER BLUNT

The circumstance consider'd, good my lord,

Whate'er Lord Harry Percy then had saidTo such a person and in such a place,At such a time, with all the rest retold,May reasonably die and never riseTo do him wrong or any way impeachWhat 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 straightHis brother-in-law, the foolish Mortimer;Who, on my soul, hath wilfully betray'dThe lives of those that he did lead to fightAgainst that great magician, damn'd Glendower,Whose daughter, as we hear, the Earl of MarchHath 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 friendWhose tongue shall ask me for one penny costTo ransom home revolted Mortimer.

HOTSPUR

Revolted Mortimer!

He never did fall off, my sovereign liege,But by the chance of war; to prove that trueNeeds no more but one tongue for all those wounds,Those mouthed wounds, which valiantly he tookWhen on the gentle Severn's sedgy bank,In single opposition, hand to hand,He did confound the best part of an hourIn changing hardiment with great Glendower:Three times they breathed and three times didthey 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 policyColour her working with such deadly wounds;Nor could the noble MortimerReceive 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 aloneAs Owen Glendower for an enemy.Art thou not ashamed? But, sirrah, henceforthLet me not hear you speak of Mortimer:Send me your prisoners with the speediest means,Or you shall hear in such a kind from meAs 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 straightAnd 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 soulWant 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 MortimerAs 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 againOf 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 forthUpon his Irish expedition;From whence he intercepted did returnTo 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 MortimerHeir 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 crownUpon the head of this forgetful manAnd for his sake wear the detested blotOf 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 predicamentWherein 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 powerDid 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 offBy him for whom these shames ye underwent?No; yet time serves wherein you may redeemYour banish'd honours and restore yourselvesInto the good thoughts of the world again,Revenge the jeering and disdain'd contemptOf this proud king, who studies day and nightTo answer all the debt he owes to youEven with the bloody payment of your deaths:Therefore, I say--