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dangerous!' Why, that's certain; 'tis 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 a good 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 honorable 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 P. O my good lord, why are you thus alone?

For what offence have I, this fortnight, been

A banish'd 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 sit'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 watch'd,
And heard thee murmur tales of iron wars;
Speak terms of manage to thy bounding steed;
Cry, Courage !-to the field!' And thou hast
talk'd

Of sallies, and retires; of trenches, tents,
Of palisadoes, frontiers, parapets;

Of basilisks, of cannon, culverin ;

Of prisoners' ransom, and of soldiers slain,
And all the 'currents 1 of a heady fight.
Thy spirit within thee hath been so at war,
And thus hath so bestirr'd thee in thy sleep,
That beads of sweat have stood upon thy brow,

1 Occurrences.

Like bubbles in a late disturbed stream:

And in thy face strange motions have appear'd,
Such as we see when men restrain their breath
On some great sudden haste. 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! Is Gilliams with the packet gone?

Enter SERVANT.

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

Hot. Hath Butler brought those horses from the sheriff?

Ser. One horse, my lord, he brought even now.
Hot. What horse? a roan, a crop-ear, is it not?
Ser. It is, my
lord.

That roan shall be

my

throne.

Hot.
Well, I will back him straight. O Esperance! 1.
Bid Butler lead him forth into the park.

[Exit Servant.

Lady P. But hear you, my lord.
Hot. What say'st thou, my lady?
Lady P. What is it carries you away?
Hot. Why, my horse, my love, my horse.
Lady P. Out, you mad-headed ape!
A weasel hath not such a deal of spleen,
As you are toss'd with. In faith,

Motto of the Percy family.

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