Of murd'rous subornation, shall it be, Wor. Hot. If he fall in, good night or sink or swim, Send danger from the east unto the west, So honour cross it, from the north to south, And let them grapple :-O! the blood more stirs, To rouse a lion, than to start a hare. North. Imagination of some great exploit Drives him beyond the bounds of patience. Hot. By heaven, methinks, it were an easy leap3, Where fathom-line could never touch the ground, Wor. He apprehends a world of figures here, That are your prisoners, Hot. Those same noble Scots, I'll keep them all. By God, he shall not have a Scot of them: Wor. You start away, And lend no ear unto my purposes. Hot. Nay, I will; that's flat. He said, he would not ransom Mortimer; And in his ear I'll holla-Mortimer! Wor. Hear you, cousin, a word. Hot. All studies here I solemnly defy, 8 By heaven, methinks, it were an easy leap,] In the earlier quartos, this line and seven others that follow it are assigned to Northumberland. The error was corrected in the quarto, 1608. And that same sword-and-buckler prince of Wales', And would be glad he met with some mischance, I would have him poison'd with a pot of ale'. North. Why, what a wasp-stung and impatient fool' Art thou to break into this woman's mood, Tying thine ear to no tongue but thine own! 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 ye call the place?— 'Sblood'! when you and he came back from Ravenspurg. North. At Berkley castle. Hot. You say true. Why, what a candy deal of courtesy This fawning greyhound then did proffer me! 9 And that same SWORD AND-BUCKLER prince of Wales,] Servants, and riotous fellows, were in the habit of wearing swords and bucklers. Steevens, on this point, refers to a tract by William Basse, called, "Sword and Buckler, or Serving Man's Defence," printed in 1602. 1 I would have HIM POISON'D-] The folio thus transposes the words "I would have poison'd him.” 2 Why, what a WASP-STUNG and impatient fool] This is the epithet in the first quarto, and it is surely much superior to wasp-tongued, the reading of the folio and other editions. Northumberland, of course, means that his son is as impatient as if he had been stung by a wasp, not that he had a wasp's tongue in his head, for the tongue of the wasp is harmless. Malone nevertheless has a long vindication of wasp-tongued. 3 'Sblood!] All the quartos give, and all the folios omit, this characteristic interjection. The same circumstance occurs afterwards. Good uncle, tell your tale: I have done1. Hot. I have done, i'faith. Wor. 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 Which I shall send you written, be assur'd, Will easily be granted you.-My lord, [TO NORTHUMBERLAND. Your son in Scotland being thus employ'd, Hot. Of York, is it 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 And only stays but to behold the face Of that occasion that shall bring it on. Upon my life, it will do wondrous well. North. Before the game's afoot, 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. In faith, it is exceedingly well aim'd. Wor. And 'tis no little reason bids us speed, To save our heads by raising of a head; Good uncle, tell your tale: I have done.] The word "for" is inserted in the folio, 1623, after "tale;" but the line, though syllabically imperfect, reads with more spirit without it. It is followed by a line of only eight syllables. 5 Upon my life it will do WONDROUS well.] "Wondrous" is obtained from the folio, and seems on all accounts necessary. For, bear ourselves as even as we can, Hot. He does, he does: we'll be reveng'd on him. To bear our fortunes in our own strong arms, North. Farewell, 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 hanged: Charles' wain is over the new chimney, and yet our horse not packed. 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'. 6 I'll steal to Glendower, and Lord Mortimer ;] Regarding this line see the Introduction, p. 223. 7-out of all CESS.] i. e. "out of all measure (says Warburton): the phrase |