But out upon this half-fac'd fellowship! Wor. He appreheħds a world of figures here, Good cousin, give me audience for a-while. Wor. That are your prisoners, Hot. Those same noble Scots, I'll keep them all; By heaven, he shall not have a Scot of them: Wor. You start away," And lend no ear unto my purposes. Those prisoners you shall keep. Hot. Nay, I will; that's flat: I'll have a starling shall be taught to speak Wor. Cousin; a word. Hear you, Hot. All studies here I solemnly defy, Save how to gall and pinch this Bolingbroke: And that same sword-and-buckler prince of But that I think his father loves him not, And would be glad he met with some mischance, I'd have him poison'd with a pot of ale. Wor. Farewel, kinsman! I will talk to you, When you are better temper'd to attend. North. Why, what a wasp-stung and impatient fool Art thou, to break into this woman's mood; Hot. Why, look you, I am whipp'd and scourg'd with rods, Nettled, and stung with pismires, when I hear In Richard's time,-What do you call the place?- Hot. You say true:- Why, what a candy deal of courtesy This fawning greyhound then did proffer me! Good uncle, tell your tale, for I have done. Hot. I have done, i'faith. Wor. Then once more to your Scottish prisoners. Deliver them without their ransom straight, up And make the Douglas' son your only mean For powers in Scotland; which,-for divers reasons, Which I shall send you written,—be assur'd, [To Northumberland. Your son in Scotland being thus employ'd,- Of that same noble prelate, well belov'd, Hot. Of York, is't not? Wor. True; who bears hard His brother's death at Bristol, the lord Scroop. As what I think might be, but what I know Of that occasion that shall bring it on. Hot. I smell it; upon my life, it will do well. North. Before the game's a-foot, thou still let'st slip. Hot. Why, it cannot choose but be a noble plot :And then the power of Scotland, and of York,To join with Mortimer, ha? Wor. And so they shall. Hot. He does, he does; we'll be reveng'd on him. in this, Wor. Cousin, farewel:-No further go 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. North. Farewel, good brother: We shall thrive, I trust. Hot. Uncle, adieu:-O, let the hours be short, Till fields, and blows, and groans applaud our sport! [Exeunt. ACT II. SCENE I. ROCHESTER. AN INN YARD. Enter a Carrier, with a lantern in his hand. 1 Car. Heigh ho! An't be not four by the day, I'll be hang'd: Charles' wain is over the new chimney, and yet our horse not pack'd. What, ostler! Ost. [Within.] Anon, anon. 1 Car. I pr'ythee, Tom, beat Cut's saddle, put a few flocks in the point; the poor jade is wrung in the withers out of all cess. Enter another Carrier. 2 Car. Pease and beans are as dank here as a dog, and that is the next way to give poor jades the bots: this house is turn'd upside down, since Robin ostler died. 1 Car. Poor fellow! never joy'd since the price of oats rose; it was the death of him. 2 Car. I think, this be the most villainous house in all London road for fleas: I am stung like a tench. 1 Car. Like a tench? by the mass, there is ne'er a king in Christendom could be better bit than I have been since the first cock. 2 Car. Why, they will allow us ne'er a jorden, and then we leak in your chimney; and your chamber-lie breeds fleas like a loach. 1 Car. What, ostler! come away, and be hang'd, come away. |