1    These promises are fair, the parties sure,
2    And our induction full of prosperous hope.

3    Lord Mortimer, and cousin Glendower,
4    Will you sit down?
5    And uncle Worcester: a plague upon it!
6    I have forgot the map.

7    No, here it is.
8    Sit, cousin Percy; sit, good cousin Hotspur,
9    For by that name as oft as Lancaster
10   Doth speak of you, his cheek looks pale and with
11   A rising sigh he wisheth you in heaven.

12   And you in hell, as oft as he hears Owen Glendower spoke of.

13   I cannot blame him: at my nativity
14   The front of heaven was full of fiery shapes,
15   Of burning cressets; and at my birth
16   The frame and huge foundation of the earth
17   Shaked like a coward.

18   Why, so it would have done at the same season, if
19   your mother's cat had but kittened, though yourself
20   had never been born.

21   I say the earth did shake when I was born.

22   And I say the earth was not of my mind,
23   If you suppose as fearing you it shook.

24   The heavens were all on fire, the earth did tremble.

25   O, then the earth shook to see the heavens on fire,
26   And not in fear of your nativity.
27   Diseased nature oftentimes breaks forth
28   In strange eruptions; oft the teeming earth
29   Is with a kind of colic pinch'd and vex'd
30   By the imprisoning of unruly wind
31   Within her womb; which, for enlargement striving,
32   Shakes the old beldam earth and topples down
33   Steeples and moss-grown towers. At your birth
34   Our grandam earth, having this distemperature,
35   In passion shook.

36   Cousin, of many men
37   I do not bear these crossings. Give me leave
38   To tell you once again that at my birth
39   The front of heaven was full of fiery shapes,
40   The goats ran from the mountains, and the herds
41   Were strangely clamorous to the frighted fields.
42   These signs have mark'd me extraordinary;
43   And all the courses of my life do show
44   I am not in the roll of common men.
45   Where is he living, clipp'd in with the sea
46   That chides the banks of England, Scotland, Wales,
47   Which calls me pupil, or hath read to me?
48   And bring him out that is but woman's son
49   Can trace me in the tedious ways of art
50   And hold me pace in deep experiments.

51   I think there's no man speaks better Welsh.
52   I'll to dinner.

53   Peace, cousin Percy; you will make him mad.

54   I can call spirits from the vasty deep.

55   Why, so can I, or so can any man;
56   But will they come when you do call for them?

57   Why, I can teach you, cousin, to command
58   The devil.

59   And I can teach thee, coz, to shame the devil
60   By telling truth: tell truth and shame the devil.
61   If thou have power to raise him, bring him hither,
62   And I'll be sworn I have power to shame him hence.
63   O, while you live, tell truth and shame the devil!

64   Come, come, no more of this unprofitable chat.

65   Three times hath Henry Bolingbroke made head
66   Against my power; thrice from the banks of Wye
67   And sandy-bottom'd Severn have I sent him
68   Bootless home and weather-beaten back.

69   Home without boots, and in foul weather too!
70   How 'scapes he agues, in the devil's name?

71   Come, here's the map: shall we divide our right
72   According to our threefold order ta'en?

73   The archdeacon hath divided it
74   Into three limits very equally:
75   England, from Trent and Severn hitherto,
76   By south and east is to my part assign'd:
77   All westward, Wales beyond the Severn shore,
78   And all the fertile land within that bound,
79   To Owen Glendower: and, dear coz, to you
80   The remnant northward, lying off from Trent.
81   And our indentures tripartite are drawn;
82   Which being sealed interchangeably,
83   A business that this night may execute,
84   To-morrow, cousin Percy, you and I
85   And my good Lord of Worcester will set forth
86   To meet your father and the Scottish power,
87   As is appointed us, at Shrewsbury.
88   My father Glendower is not ready yet,
89   Not shall we need his help these fourteen days.
90   Within that space you may have drawn together
91   Your tenants, friends and neighbouring gentlemen.

92   A shorter time shall send me to you, lords:
93   And in my conduct shall your ladies come;
94   From whom you now must steal and take no leave,
95   For there will be a world of water shed
96   Upon the parting of your wives and you.

97   Methinks my moiety, north from Burton here,
98   In quantity equals not one of yours:
99   See how this river comes me cranking in,
100  And cuts me from the best of all my land
101  A huge half-moon, a monstrous cantle out.
102  I'll have the current in this place damm'd up;
103  And here the smug and silver Trent shall run
104  In a new channel, fair and evenly;
105  It shall not wind with such a deep indent,
106  To rob me of so rich a bottom here.

107  Not wind? it shall, it must; you see it doth.

108  Yea, but
109  Mark how he bears his course, and runs me up
110  With like advantage on the other side;
111  Gelding the opposed continent as much
112  As on the other side it takes from you.

113  Yea, but a little charge will trench him here
114  And on this north side win this cape of land;
115  And then he runs straight and even.

116  I'll have it so: a little charge will do it.

117  I'll not have it alter'd.

118  Will not you?

119  No, nor you shall not.

120  Who shall say me nay?

121  Why, that will I.

122  Let me not understand you, then; speak it in Welsh.

123  I can speak English, lord, as well as you;
124  For I was train'd up in the English court;
125  Where, being but young, I framed to the harp
126  Many an English ditty lovely well
127  And gave the tongue a helpful ornament,
128  A virtue that was never seen in you.

129  Marry,
130  And I am glad of it with all my heart:
131  I had rather be a kitten and cry mew
132  Than one of these same metre ballad-mongers;
133  I had rather hear a brazen canstick turn'd,
134  Or a dry wheel grate on the axle-tree;
135  And that would set my teeth nothing on edge,
136  Nothing so much as mincing poetry:
137  'Tis like the forced gait of a shuffling nag.

138  Come, you shall have Trent turn'd.

139  I do not care: I'll give thrice so much land
140  To any well-deserving friend;
141  But in the way of bargain, mark ye me,
142  I'll cavil on the ninth part of a hair.
143  Are the indentures drawn? shall we be gone?

144  The moon shines fair; you may away by night:
145  I'll haste the writer and withal
146  Break with your wives of your departure hence:
147  I am afraid my daughter will run mad,
148  So much she doteth on her Mortimer.

149  Fie, cousin Percy! how you cross my father!

150  I cannot choose: sometime he angers me
151  With telling me of the mouldwarp and the ant,
152  Of the dreamer Merlin and his prophecies,
153  And of a dragon and a finless fish,
154  A clip-wing'd griffin and a moulten raven,
155  A couching lion and a ramping cat,
156  And such a deal of skimble-skamble stuff
157  As puts me from my faith. I tell you what;
158  He held me last night at least nine hours
159  In reckoning up the several devils' names
160  That were his lackeys: I cried 'hum,' and 'well, go to,'
161  But mark'd him not a word. O, he is as tedious
162  As a tired horse, a railing wife;
163  Worse than a smoky house: I had rather live
164  With cheese and garlic in a windmill, far,
165  Than feed on cates and have him talk to me
166  In any summer-house in Christendom.

167  In faith, he is a worthy gentleman,
168  Exceedingly well read, and profited
169  In strange concealments, valiant as a lion
170  And as wondrous affable and as bountiful
171  As mines of India. Shall I tell you, cousin?
172  He holds your temper in a high respect
173  And curbs himself even of his natural scope
174  When you come 'cross his humour; faith, he does:
175  I warrant you, that man is not alive
176  Might so have tempted him as you have done,
177  Without the taste of danger and reproof:
178  But do not use it oft, let me entreat you.

179  In faith, my lord, you are too wilful-blame;
180  And since your coming hither have done enough
181  To put him quite beside his patience.
182  You must needs learn, lord, to amend this fault:
183  Though sometimes it show greatness, courage, blood,--
184  And that's the dearest grace it renders you,--
185  Yet oftentimes it doth present harsh rage,
186  Defect of manners, want of government,
187  Pride, haughtiness, opinion and disdain:
188  The least of which haunting a nobleman
189  Loseth men's hearts and leaves behind a stain
190  Upon the beauty of all parts besides,
191  Beguiling them of commendation.

192  Well, I am school'd: good manners be your speed!
193  Here come our wives, and let us take our leave.

194  This is the deadly spite that angers me;
195  My wife can speak no English, I no Welsh.

196  My daughter weeps: she will not part with you;
197  She'll be a soldier too, she'll to the wars.

198  Good father, tell her that she and my aunt Percy
199  Shall follow in your conduct speedily.

200  She is desperate here; a peevish self-wind harlotry,
201  one that no persuasion can do good upon.

202  I understand thy looks: that pretty Welsh
203  Which thou pour'st down from these swelling heavens
204  I am too perfect in; and, but for shame,
205  In such a parley should I answer thee.
The lady speaks again in Welsh
206  I understand thy kisses and thou mine,
207  And that's a feeling disputation:
208  But I will never be a truant, love,
209  Till I have learned thy language; for thy tongue
210  Makes Welsh as sweet as ditties highly penn'd,
211  Sung by a fair queen in a summer's bower,
212  With ravishing division, to her lute.

213  Nay, if you melt, then will she run mad.

214  O, I am ignorance itself in this!

215  She bids you on the wanton rushes lay you down
216  And rest your gentle head upon her lap,
217  And she will sing the song that pleaseth you
218  And on your eyelids crown the god of sleep.
219  Charming your blood with pleasing heaviness,
220  Making such difference 'twixt wake and sleep
221  As is the difference betwixt day and night
222  The hour before the heavenly-harness'd team
223  Begins his golden progress in the east.

224  With all my heart I'll sit and hear her sing:
225  By that time will our book, I think, be drawn

226  Do so;
227  And those musicians that shall play to you
228  Hang in the air a thousand leagues from hence,
229  And straight they shall be here: sit, and attend.

230  Come, Kate, thou art perfect in lying down: come,
231  quick, quick, that I may lay my head in thy lap.

232  Go, ye giddy goose.

233  Now I perceive the devil understands Welsh;
234  And 'tis no marvel he is so humorous.
235  By'r lady, he is a good musician.

236  Then should you be nothing but musical for you are
237  altogether governed by humours. Lie still, ye thief,
238  and hear the lady sing in Welsh.

239  I had rather hear Lady, my brach, howl in Irish.

240  Wouldst thou have thy head broken?

241  No.

242  Then be still.

243  Neither;'tis a woman's fault.

244  Now God help thee!

245  To the Welsh lady's bed.

246  What's that?

247  Peace! she sings.

248  Come, Kate, I'll have your song too.

249  Not mine, in good sooth.

250  Not yours, in good sooth! Heart! you swear like a
251  comfit-maker's wife. 'Not you, in good sooth,' and
252  'as true as I live,' and 'as God shall mend me,' and
253  'as sure as day,'
254  And givest such sarcenet surety for thy oaths,
255  As if thou never walk'st further than Finsbury.
256  Swear me, Kate, like a lady as thou art,
257  A good mouth-filling oath, and leave 'in sooth,'
258  And such protest of pepper-gingerbread,
259  To velvet-guards and Sunday-citizens.
260  Come, sing.

261  I will not sing.

262  'Tis the next way to turn tailor, or be red-breast
263  teacher. An the indentures be drawn, I'll away
264  within these two hours; and so, come in when ye will.

265  Come, come, Lord Mortimer; you are as slow
266  As hot Lord Percy is on fire to go.
267  By this our book is drawn; we'll but seal,
268  And then to horse immediately.

269  With all my heart.