Wor. Nay, if you have not, to 't again;
We'll stay your leisure.
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 261
For powers in Scotland; which, for divers reasons
Which I shall send you written, be assur'd,
Will easily be granted. [To Northumberland.] You, my lord, 264
Your son in Scotland being thus employ'd,
Shall secretly into the bosom creep
Of that same noble prelate well belov'd,
The Archbishop. 268
Hot. Of York, is it not?
Wor. True; who bears hard
His brother's death at Bristol, the Lord Scroop.
I speak not this in estimation, 272
As what I think might be, but what I know
Is ruminated, plotted and set down;
And only stays but to behold the face
Of that occasion that shall bring it on. 276
Hot. I smell it.
Upon my life it will do wondrous well.
North. Before the game's afoot thou still lett'st slip.
Hot. Why, it cannot choose but be a noble plot: 280
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,
258 stay: await
271 Scroop; cf. n.
272 estimation: conjecture
279 still: always
lett'st slip: art letting the hounds loose from the leash
