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

  160

  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?

  165

  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,

  170

  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,

  An plant this thorn, this canker, Bolingbroke?

  175

  And shall it in more shame be further spoken

  That you are fooled, discarded, and shook off

  By him for whom these shames you underwent?

  No, yet time serves wherein you may redeem

  Your banished honors and restore yourselves

  180

  Into the good thoughts of the world again,

  Revenge the jeering and disdain’d 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.

  185

  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

  190

  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 honor cross it from the north to south,

  195

  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

  200

  To pluck bright honor from the pale-faced moon,

  Or dive into the bottom of the deep,

  Where fathom line could never touch the ground,

  And pluck up drownèd honor by the locks,

  So he that doth redeem her thence might wear

  205

  Without corrival all her dignities.

  But out upon this half-faced fellowship!

  WORCESTER

  (to NORTHUMBERLAND) He apprehends a world of figures here,

  But not the form of what he should attend.—

  (to HOTSPUR) Good cousin, give me audience for a while.

  HOTSPUR

  210

  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

  215

  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,

  Forbad my tongue to speak of Mortimer.

  But I will find him when he lies asleep,

  220

  And in his ear I’ll hollo “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

  225

  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

  230

  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

  (to HOTSPUR) Why, what a wasp-stung and impatient fool

  235

  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.

  240

  In Richard’s time—what do you call the place?

  A plague upon it! 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.

  245

  ’Sblood, when you and he came back from Ravenspurgh.

  NORTHUMBERLAND

  At Berkley Castle.

  HOTSPUR

  You say true.

  Why, what a candy deal of courtesy

  This fawning greyhound then did proffer me:

  250

  “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.

  255

  We will 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

  260

  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,

  265

  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,

  270

  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 let’st slip.

  HOTSPUR

  Why, it cannot choose but be a noble plot.

  275

  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,

  280

  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

  285

  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,

  290

  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

  295

  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

  ACT 1, SCENE 3

  Modern Text

  The KING, NORTHUMBERLAND, WORCESTER, HOTSPUR, Sir Walter BLUNT and others enter.

  KING

  I’ve been too calm and even-tempered, unwilling to react angrily to these indignities. You have discovered this, and so you’ve walked all over my patience. Know this: from now on, I’m going to be my royal self again, powerful and frightening. My natural condition, which was as smooth as oil and soft as feathers, has lost me the respect that powerful people only pay to the similarly powerful.

  WORCESTER

  My lord, the Percy family does not deserve to bear the brunt of your anger and power, especially since we helped you become so powerful in the first place.

  NORTHUMBERLAND

  Your Highness —

  KING

  Worcester, get out. I see danger and disobedience in your eyes. You carry yourself too boldly and proudly, and royalty should never have to endure a servant’s frowning face. You have my permission to leave now. When I need you or your advice, I’ll call for you.

  WORCESTER exits.

  (to NORTHUMBERLAND) You were about to speak.

  NORTHUMBERLAND

  Yes, my Lord. The prisoners you asked for, which my son Harry Percy captured at Holmedon, were not kept from you in anger. He’s already told you that. Whoever told you my son meant to defy you was either mistaken or trying to make trouble. He’s done nothing wrong.

  HOTSPUR

  Sir, I didn’t hold back any prisoners. But I remember this: when the battle ended, I was exhausted with rage and exertion. I was out of breath, dizzy and bent over. All of a sudden a man approached me, neat, clean, and tidily dressed, like a bridegroom. His beard was freshly shaven, like a newly plowed field. He wore fancy cologne and he carried a perfume box, which he kept raising to his nose as he smiled and talked on. Whenever soldiers walked past, bearing dead bodies, he called them rude hoodlums for bringing a foul, disgusting corpse within breathing distance of him. He interrogated me, with his fancy language, and demanded that I give him my prisoners, to be taken on your behalf. There I was, with the cold aggravating all my wounds, being pestered by this idiot. In my grief and impatience, I gave him some kind of answer. I don’t even remember what I said—he could take them, or he couldn’t.

  I was so angry, looking at him all shiny and sweet-smelling, and speaking like a squeamish woman about guns and battle drums and wounds—God almighty!—and telling me the best thing for an injury is parmaceti, and that it was a shame that the blameless earth had to be dug up to find saltpeter for the gunpowder, when so many good, brave men had been cowardly destroyed by guns, and that if it hadn’t been for those disgusting guns, he would have been a soldier himself. All this trivial, incoherent talk I answered offhandedly, as I’ve already told you. So I beg you: please don’t take his word as evidence that there’s anything wrong between you and me, your Majesty.

  BLUNT

  Given the circumstances, my lord, whatever Harry Percy may have said to a man like that, in a place and time like that, should be allowed to die and never be spoken of again. It should never be used against Harry in any way, since he has taken it all back now.

  KING

  But he still won’t turn over his prisoners unless he can add these stipulations and exceptions. He wants me, at my own cost, to pay ransom for his brother-in-law, the foolish Mortimer, a man who, on my life, willfully betrayed his own men, whom he had led in fighting against that great magician, the damned Glendower. And now we hear that Mortimer has married Glendower’s daughter! Should the treasury be emptied to ransom a traitor? Should I pay for treason, and bargain for a coward, when it was Mortimer who lost himself? No. Let him starve in the wilderness. No man who asks me to spend one penny on that traitor Mortimer can ever be a friend of mine.

  HOTSPUR

  “That traitor Mortimer!” He never faltered, my lord, except through an accident of war. I’ll prove it, by speaking about the many wounds he heroically suffered when he spent an hour in brutal hand-to-hand combat against Glendower on the grassy banks of the Severn River. They broke three times from fighting, and they drank three times from the Severn. The river itself was frightened by their horrible looks. Its water became discolored with the blood of these brave fighters, and the Severn ran off, as if to hide itself in the weeds on its banks. Treachery has never used deadly wounds to cover its operations, and Mortimer could never have willingly suffered so many injuries. Do not let him be slandered by calling him a traitor.

  KING

  You speak wrongly about him, Percy, you speak wrongly! He never fought Glendower. I tell you, he would just as soon dare to meet the devil himself as fight Glendower. Aren’t you ashamed of yourself? Don’t ever let me hear you speak of Mortimer again. Send me your prisoners as quickly as possible, or you’ll hear about it from me, and you won’t like what I have to say. Northumberland, I give you and your son permission to leave now.

  Send your prisoners, or you’ll hear about it.

  KING Henry, BLUNT, and the attendants exit.

  HOTSPUR

  Even if the devil himself comes screaming for them, I won’t send those prisoners. I’m going to go after him and tell him so; it will ease my heart, though it might cost me my head.

  NORTHUMBERLAND

  What, drunk with anger? Wait a minute. Here comes your uncle.

  WORCESTER enters.

  HOTSPUR

  Talk about Mortimer? God damn, I will talk about him. And damn my soul if I don’t join him! I’ll empty out my veins for him, and I’ll pour my precious blood onto the ground, drop by drop! And I’ll lift this put-upon Mortimer as high up as this ungrateful King, this ungenerous, rotten Bolingbroke!

  NORTHUMBERLAND

  (to WORCESTER) Brother, the King’s driven your nephew crazy.

  WORCESTER

  Who started this trouble after I left?

  HOTSPUR

  He wants all my prisoners, for God’s sake! And when I asked again for him to ransom my brother-in-law, he looked pale, and he shot me a look that could kill. Just the mention of Mortimer’s name makes him shake.

  WORCESTER

  I don’t blame him. Didn’t the late King Richard II proclaim that Mortimer should be next in line for the throne?

  NORTHUMBERLAND

  He did; I heard the proclamation. That was when the wretched King Richard (may God forgive us for wronging him!) set out to invade Ireland. When that was interrupted, he returned to England, only to be deposed and then murdered.

  WORCESTER

  And for our part in his death, the whole world is scandalized by us, and speaks ill of us.

  HOTSPUR

  Stop a moment, please. Did King Richard really proclaim that my brother-in-law Edmund Mortimer was next in line for the throne?

  NORTHUMBERLAND

  He did. I heard it myself.

  HOTSPUR

  Then I can’t blame King Henry for wishing for him to starve in the wilderness. But is it right that you—who put the crown on Henry’s forgetful head, and who carry the accusations of murder for Henry’s sake—should be the target of the world’s curses? When you were only accomplices and instruments? Is it right to blame the ropes, the ladder, or the hangman for a man’s death? Forgive me for mentioning that you two are like those sordid objects, having been exploited by this conniving King. But will you stand by while people today speak of your shame?

  While history books record that men of your nobility and power dedicated themselves to as unjust a cause (which, God forgive you, you both did) as the overthrowing of Richard, that sweet lovely rose, and the planting of this thorn, this weed, Bolingbroke in Richard’s place? Will you listen as people say that you are fools, and that you’ve been tossed away by the very person you shamed yourselves to help? No. There is still time for you to redeem your reputations and restore your good names in the eyes of the world. Take revenge against this King who mocks and scorns you. He thinks constantly about how to repay you for all you did—by putting you to death. So I say—

  WORCESTER

  Quiet, nephew; don’t say any more. I have a secret for you, which is hidden like a book with a lock. I will open the book and read you a dark, dangerous story that will appeal to your righteous anger. It’s full of peril and adventure, as risky as walking across a churning, thundering river while balanced unsteadily on a spear.

  HOTSPUR

  If he falls in, then it’s all over, whether he sinks or swims. The honor of the struggle is all that counts, no matter what the danger is or where it comes from. It takes more courage to wake a sleeping lion than to frighten a rabbit!

  NORTHUMBERLAND

  Dreaming about this heroic exploit is driving him past his patience.

  HOTSPUR

  By God, I think it would be easy to jump up and grab honor off of the moon’s pale face, or to dive into the deepest ocean and pull up honor by its hair.

  Then the man who rescues honor can wear her glory alone, without rivals. To hell with sharing the glory!

  WORCESTER

  (to NORTHUMBERLAND) He sees a world built by his imagination, but that world is not the one he should be paying attention to. (to HOTSPUR) Nephew, listen to me a minute.

  HOTSPUR

  I beg your pardon.