? 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 licence your departure with your son. Send us your prisoners, or you will hear of it. An if the devil come and roar for them, I will not send them: I will after straight And tell him so; for I will ease my heart, Albeit I make a hazard of my head. What, drunk with choler? stay and pause awhile: Here comes your uncle. Speak of Mortimer! 'Zounds, I will speak of him; and let my soul Want mercy, if I do not join with him: Yea, on his part I'll empty all these veins, And shed my dear blood drop by drop in the dust, But I will lift the down-trod Mortimer As high in the air as this unthankful king, As this ingrate and canker'd Bolingbroke. Brother, the king hath made your nephew mad. Who struck this heat up after I was gone? He will, forsooth, have all my prisoners; And when I urged the ransom once again Of my wife's brother, then his cheek look'd pale, And on my face he turn'd an eye of death, Trembling even at the name of Mortimer. I cannot blame him: was not he proclaim'd By Richard that dead is the next of blood? He was; I heard the proclamation: And then it was when the unhappy king, --Whose wrongs in us God pardon!--did set forth Upon his Irish expedition; From whence he intercepted did return To be deposed and shortly murdered. And for whose death we in the world's wide mouth Live scandalized and foully spoken of. But soft, I pray you; did King Richard then Proclaim my brother Edmund Mortimer Heir to the crown? He did; myself did hear it. Nay, then I cannot blame his cousin king, 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 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? 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, That