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          Were, as he says, not with such strength denied

          As is 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 toll,

          Breathless and faint, leaning upon my sword,

          Came there a certain lord, neat and trimly dress'd,

          Fresh as a bridegroom; and his chin new reap'd

          Show'd like a stubble land at harvest home.

          He was perfumed like a milliner,

          And 'twixt his finger and his thumb he held

          A pouncet box, which ever and anon

          He gave his nose, and took't away again;

          Who therewith angry, when it next came there,

          Took it in snuff; and still he smil'd and talk'd;

          And as the soldiers bore dead bodies by,

          He call'd 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, amongst the rest demanded

          My prisoners in your Majesty's behalf.

          I then, all smarting with my wounds being cold,

          To be so pest'red with a popingay,

          Out of my grief and my impatience

          Answer'd neglectingly, I know not what-

          He should, or he 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 sovereignest thing on earth

          Was parmacity for an inward bruise;

          And that it was great pity, so it was,

          This villanous saltpetre should be digg'd

          Out of the bowels of the harmless earth,

          Which many a good tall fellow had destroy'd

          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,

          Whate'er Lord Harry Percy then had said

          To such a person, and in such a place,

          At such a time, with all the rest retold,

          May reasonably die, and never rise

          To do him wrong, or any way impeach

          What then he said, so he unsay it now.

        King. 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 betray'd

          The lives of those that he did lead to fight

          Against that great magician, damn'd 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

          To ransom home revolted Mortimer.

        Hot. Revolted Mortimer?

          He never did fall off, my sovereign liege,

          But by the chance of war. To prove that true

          Needs no more but one tongue for all those wounds,

          Those mouthed wounds, which valiantly he took

          When on the gentle Severn's sedgy bank,

          In single opposition hand to hand,

          He did confound the best part of an hour

          In changing hardiment with great Glendower.

          Three times they breath'd, and three times did they drink,

          Upon agreement, of swift Severn's flood;

          Who then, affrighted with their bloody looks,

          Ran fearfully among the trembling reeds

          And hid his crisp head in the hollow bank,

          Bloodstained with these valiant cohabitants.

          Never did base and rotten policy

          Colour her working with such deadly wounds;

          Nor never could the noble Mortimer

          Receive so many, and all willingly.

          Then let not him be slandered with revolt.

        King. Thou dost belie him, Percy, thou dost belie him!

          He never did encounter with Glendower.

          I tell thee

          He durst as well have met the devil alone

          As Owen Glendower for an enemy.

          Art thou not asham'd? But, sirrah, henceforth

          Let me not hear you speak of Mortimer.

          Send me your prisoners with the speediest means,

          Or you shall hear in such a kind from me

          As will displease you. My Lord Northumberland,

          We license your departure with your son. -

          Send us your prisoners, or you will hear of it.