Who doth permit the base contagious clouds To smother up his beauty from the world, That when he please again to be himself, Being wanted, he may be more wondered at By breaking through the foul and ugly mists Of vapours that did seem to strangle him. If all the year were playing holidays,
To sport would be as tedious as to work; But when they seldom come, they wished-for come, And nothing pleaseth but rare accidents. So, when this loose behaviour I throw off And pay the debt I never promised,
By how much better than my word I am, By so much shall I falsify men's hopes; And, like bright metal on a sullen ground, My reformation, glittering o'er my fault, Shall show more goodly and attract more eyes Than that which hath no foil to set it off. I'll so offend, to make offence a skill; Redeeming time, when men think least I will.
Enter King HENRY, NORTHUMBERLAND, WORCESTER, HOTSPUR, Sir WALTER BLUNT, and others.
K. Hen. 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. Wor. Our house, my sovereign liege, little de-
The Scourge of greatness to be used on it,
And that same greatness too which our own hands Have holp to make so portly.
K. Hen. Worcester, get thee gone; for I do see Danger and disobedience in thine eye.
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. North. 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 was delivered to your majesty :
Either envy, therefore, or misprision
Is guilty of this fault, and not my son.
Hot. 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, trimly dressed, Fresh as a bridegroom; and his chin, new reaped, Showed like a stubble-land at harvest home; He was perfuméd like a milliner,
And 'twixt his finger and his thumb he held A pouncet-box, which ever and anon
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 corse Betwixt the wind and his nobility.
With many holiday and lady terms
He questioned me; among 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 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, That 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,
Whatever Harry Percy then had said To such a person, and in such a place, At such a time, with all the rest re-told, May reasonably die, and never rise To do him wrong, or any way impeach What then he said, so he unsay it now.
K. Hen. 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 the great magician, damned Glendower, Whose daughter, as we hear, the 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
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