Abbildungen der Seite
PDF
EPUB

more. 'The purpose you undertake, is dangerous;' -why, that's certain : 't is 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 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 you lie. What a lack-brain is this! By the Lord, our plot is as good a 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 this! Why, my Lord of York commends the plot and the general course of the 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? 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 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 skimmed milk with so honourable an action! Hang him! let him tell the king: we are prepared. I will set forward to-night.

Enter Lady PERCY.

How now, Kate, I must leave you within these two hours.

Lady. O, my good lord, why are you thus alone? For what offence bave I this fortnight been

A banished woman from my Harry's bed?
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 sitt'st alone?
Why hast thou lost the fresh blood in thy cheeks,
And given my treasures and my rights of thee
To thick-eyed musing, and cursed melancholy?
In thy faint slumbers I by thee have watched,
And heard thee murmur tales of iron wars,
Speak terms of manage to thy bounding steed,
Cry, Courage-to the field!'

[ocr errors]

talked

And thou hast

Of sallies, and retires, of trenches, tents,

Of palisadoes, frontiers, parapets,

Of basilisks, of cannon, culverin,

Of prisoners ransomed, and of soldiers slain,
And all the occurrents of a heady fight.

Thy spirit within thee hath been so at war,
And thus hath so bestirred thee in thy sleep,
That beads of sweat have stood upon thy brow
Like bubbles in a late-disturbéd stream;
And in thy face strange motions have appeared
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.

Hot. What, ho!

Enter Servant.

Is Gilliams with the packet gone?

Serv. He is, my lord, an hour ago.

Hot. Hath Butler brought those horses from the sheriff?

Serv. One horse, my lord, he brought even

now.

Hot. What horse? a roan, a crop-ear, is it not? Serv. It is, my lord.

Hot.

That roan shall be my throne.

Well, I will back him straight: O, esperance!
Bid Butler lead him forth into the park.

Lady. But hear you, my lord.

Hot. What say'st thou, my lady?

[Exit Servant.

Lady. What is it carries you away ?

Hot. Why, my horse, my love, my horse.
Lady. Out, you mad-headed ape!

A weasel hath not such a deal of spleen

As you are tossed with. But in faith, I'll know—
I'll know your business, Harry, that I will.

I fear, my brother Mortimer doth stir
About his title, and hath sent for you
To line his enterprise. But if you go-
Hot. So far afoot, I shall be weary, love.
Lady. Come, come, you paraquito, answer me
Directly unto this question that I ask.

In faith, I'll break thy little finger, Harry,
An if thou wilt not tell me true.

Hot. 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:
We must have bloody noses and cracked crowns,

And pass them current too.-God's me, my horse!

What say'st thou, Kate? what wouldst thou have

with me?

Lady. Do you not love me? do you not, indeed?

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?

Hot. Come, wilt thou see me ride?
And when I am o' horseback, I will swear
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.
I know you wise; but yet no further 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,—

And so far will I trust thee, gentle Kate.

Lady. How! so far?

Hot. Not an inch further.

Kate:

But hark you,

Whither I go, thither shall you go too;
To-day will I set forth, to-morrow you.
Will this content you, Kate?

Lady.

It must of force. [Exeunt.

« ZurückWeiter »