ACT II SCENE III | Warkworth castle. |
[Enter HOTSPUR, solus, reading a letter] |
HOTSPUR | 'But for mine own part, my lord, I could be well |
| contented to be there, in respect of the love I bear |
| your house.' He could be contented: why is he not, |
| then? In respect of the love he bears our house: |
| he shows in this, he loves his own barn better than | 5 |
| he loves our house. Let me see some more. 'The |
| purpose you undertake is dangerous;'--why, that's |
| certain: 'tis dangerous to take a cold, to sleep, to |
| drink; but I tell you, my lord fool, out of this |
| nettle, danger, we pluck this flower, safety. 'The | 10 |
| purpose you undertake is dangerous; the friends you |
| have named uncertain; the time itself unsorted; and |
| your whole plot too light for the counterpoise of so |
| great an opposition.' Say you so, say you so? I say |
| unto you again, you are a shallow cowardly hind, and | 15 |
| you lie. What a lack-brain is this! By the Lord, |
| our plot is a good plot as ever was laid; our |
| friends true and constant: a good plot, good |
| friends, and full of expectation; an excellent plot, |
| very good friends. What a frosty-spirited rogue is | 20 |
| this! Why, my lord of York commends the plot and the |
| general course of action. 'Zounds, an I were now by |
| this rascal, I could brain him with his lady's fan. |
| Is there not my father, my uncle and myself? lord |
| Edmund Mortimer, My lord of York and Owen Glendower? | 25 |
| is there not besides the Douglas? have I not all |
| their letters to meet me in arms by the ninth of the |
| next month? and are they not some of them set |
| forward already? What a pagan rascal is this! an |
| infidel! Ha! you shall see now in very sincerity | 30 |
| of fear and cold heart, will he to the king and lay |
| open all our proceedings. O, I could divide myself |
| and go to buffets, for moving such a dish of |
| skim milk with so honourable an action! Hang him! |
| let him tell the king: we are prepared. I will set | 35 |
| forward to-night. |
[Enter LADY PERCY] |
| How now, Kate! I must leave you within these two hours. |
LADY PERCY | O, my good lord, why are you thus alone? |
| For what offence have I this fortnight been |
| A banish'd woman from my Harry's bed? | 40 |
| Tell me, sweet lord, what is't that takes from thee |
| Thy stomach, pleasure and thy golden sleep? |
| Why dost thou bend thine eyes upon the earth, |
| And start so often when thou sit'st alone? |
| Why hast thou lost the fresh blood in thy cheeks; | 45 |
| And given my treasures and my rights of thee |
| To thick-eyed musing and cursed melancholy? |
| In thy faint slumbers I by thee have watch'd, |
| And heard thee murmur tales of iron wars; |
| Speak terms of manage to thy bounding steed; | 50 |
| Cry 'Courage! to the field!' And thou hast talk'd |
| Of sallies and retires, of trenches, tents, |
| Of palisadoes, frontiers, parapets, |
| Of basilisks, of cannon, culverin, |
| Of prisoners' ransom and of soldiers slain, | 55 |
| And all the currents of a heady fight. |
| Thy spirit within thee hath been so at war |
| And thus hath so bestirr'd thee in thy sleep, |
| That beads of sweat have stood upon thy brow |
| Like bubbles in a late-disturbed stream; | 60 |
| And in thy face strange motions have appear'd, |
| Such as we see when men restrain their breath |
| On some great sudden hest. O, what portents are these? |
| Some heavy business hath my lord in hand, |
| And I must know it, else he loves me not. | 65 |
HOTSPUR | What, ho! |
[Enter Servant] |
| Is Gilliams with the packet gone? |
Servant | He is, my lord, an hour ago. |
HOTSPUR | Hath Butler brought those horses from the sheriff? |
Servant | One horse, my lord, he brought even now. | 70 |
HOTSPUR | What horse? a roan, a crop-ear, is it not? |
Servant | It is, my lord. |
HOTSPUR | That roan shall by my throne. |
| Well, I will back him straight: O esperance! |
| Bid Butler lead him forth into the park. | 75 |
[Exit Servant] |
LADY PERCY | But hear you, my lord. |
HOTSPUR | What say'st thou, my lady? |
LADY PERCY | What is it carries you away? |
HOTSPUR | Why, my horse, my love, my horse. |
LADY PERCY | Out, you mad-headed ape! | 80 |
| A weasel hath not such a deal of spleen |
| As you are toss'd with. In faith, |
| I'll know your business, Harry, that I will. |
| I fear my brother Mortimer doth stir |
| About his title, and hath sent for you | 85 |
| To line his enterprise: but if you go,-- |
HOTSPUR | So far afoot, I shall be weary, love. |
LADY PERCY | Come, come, you paraquito, answer me |
| Directly unto this question that I ask: |
| In faith, I'll break thy little finger, Harry, | 90 |
| An if thou wilt not tell me all things true. |
HOTSPUR | Away, |
| Away, you trifler! Love! I love thee not, |
| I care not for thee, Kate: this is no world |
| To play with mammets and to tilt with lips: | 95 |
| We must have bloody noses and crack'd crowns, |
| And pass them current too. God's me, my horse! |
| What say'st thou, Kate? what would'st thou |
| have with me? |
LADY PERCY | Do you not love me? do you not, indeed? | 100 |
| Well, do not then; for since you love me not, |
| I will not love myself. Do you not love me? |
| Nay, tell me if you speak in jest or no. |
HOTSPUR | Come, wilt thou see me ride? |
| And when I am on horseback, I will swear | 105 |
| I love thee infinitely. But hark you, Kate; |
| I must not have you henceforth question me |
| Whither I go, nor reason whereabout: |
| Whither I must, I must; and, to conclude, |
| This evening must I leave you, gentle Kate. | 110 |
| I know you wise, but yet no farther wise |
| Than Harry Percy's wife: constant you are, |
| But yet a woman: and for secrecy, |
| No lady closer; for I well believe |
| Thou wilt not utter what thou dost not know; | 115 |
| And so far will I trust thee, gentle Kate. |
LADY PERCY | How! so far? |
HOTSPUR | Not an inch further. But hark you, Kate: |
| Whither I go, thither shall you go too; |
| To-day will I set forth, to-morrow you. | 120 |
| Will this content you, Kate? |
LADY PERCY | It must of force. |
[Exeunt] |