Hot. Why, it cannot choose but be a Noble plot,
And then the power of Scotland, and of Yorke
To ioyne with Mortimer, Ha
Wor. And so they shall
Hot. Infaith it is exceedingly well aym'd
Wor. And 'tis no little reason bids vs speed,
To saue our heads, by raising of a Head:
For, beare our selues as euen as we can,
The King will alwayes thinke him in our debt,
And thinke, we thinke our selues vnsatisfied,
Till he hath found a time to pay vs home.
And see already, how he doth beginne
To make vs strangers to his lookes of loue
Hot. He does, he does; wee'l be reueng'd on him
Wor. Cousin, farewell. No further go in this,
Then I by Letters shall direct your course
When time is ripe, which will be sodainly:
Ile steale to Glendower, and loe, Mortimer,
Where you, and Dowglas, and our powres at once,
As I will fashion it, shall happily meete,
To beare our fortunes in our owne strong armes,
Which now we hold at much vncertainty
Nor. Farewell good Brother, we shall thriue, I trust
Hot. Vncle, adieu: O let the houres be short,
Till fields, and blowes, and grones, applaud our sport.
Exit
Actus Secundus. Scena Prima.