These promises are fair, the parties sure,

3.1.21523And our induction full of prosperous hope.

Lord Mortimer and cousin Glendower, will you sit down? 1526And uncle Worcester -- a plague upon it, I have forgot the map!

No here it is;

3.1.51529Sit, cousin Percy, sit, good cousin Hotspur;

3.1.61530For by that name as oft as Lancaster doth speak of you,

3.1.71531His cheek looks pale, and with a rising sigh

3.1.81532He wisheth you in heaven.

He wisheth you in heaven. And you in hell,

3.1.91534As oft as he hears Owen Glendower spoke of.

I cannot blame him. At my nativity

3.1.111536The front of heaven was full of fiery shapes,

3.1.121537Of burning cressets, and at my birth

3.1.131538The frame and huge foundation of the earth

3.1.141539Shaked like a coward.

Why, so it would have done at the same season if your 1541mother's cat had but kittened, though yourself had never been 1542born.

I say the earth did shake when I was born.

And I say the earth was not of my mind,

3.1.181545If you suppose as fearing you it shook.

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

Oh, then the earth shook to see the heavens on fire,

3.1.211550And not in fear of your nativity.

3.1.221551Diseasèd nature oftentimes breaks forth

3.1.231552In strange eruptions; oft the teeming earth

3.1.241553Is with a kind of colic pinched and vexed

3.1.251554By the imprisoning of unruly wind

3.1.261555Within her womb, which for enlargement striving

3.1.271556Shakes the old beldam earth, and topples down

3.1.281557Steeples and moss-grown towers. At your birth

3.1.291558Our grandam earth, having this distemperature,

3.1.301559In passion shook.

In passion shook. Cousin, of many men

3.1.331561I do not bear these crossings. Give me leave

3.1.341562To tell you once again that at my birth

3.1.351563The front of heaven was full of fiery shapes,

3.1.361564The goats ran from the mountains, and the herds

3.1.371565Were strangely clamorous to the frighted fields.

3.1.381566These signs have marked me extraordinary,

3.1.391567And all the courses of my life do show

3.1.401568I am not in the roll of common men.

3.1.411569Where is he living, clipped in with the sea

3.1.421570That chides the banks of England, Scotland, Wales,

3.1.431571Which calls me pupil or hath read to me?

3.1.441572And bring him out that is but woman's son

3.1.451573Can trace me in the tedious ways of art,

3.1.461574And hold me pace in deep experiments.

I think there's no man speaks better Welsh.

3.1.481576I'll to dinner.

Peace, cousin Percy, you will make him mad.

I can call spirits from the vasty deep.

Why so can I, or so can any man,

3.1.521580But will they come when you do call for them?

Why, I can teach you, cousin, to command the devil.

And I can teach thee, coz, to shame the devil,

3.1.551584By telling truth: "Tell truth, and shame the devil."

3.1.561585If thou have power to raise him, bring him hither,

3.1.571586And I'll be sworn I have power to shame him hence.

3.1.581587Oh, while you live, tell truth and shame the devil.

Come, come, no more of this unprofitable chat.

Three times hath Henry Bolingbroke made head

3.1.611591Against my power; thrice from the banks of Wye

3.1.621592And sandy-bottomed Severn have I sent him

3.1.631593Bootless home, and weather-beaten back.

Home without boots, and in foul weather too!

3.1.651596How scapes he agues, in the devil's name?

Come, here is the map. Shall we divide our right,

3.1.671599According to our threefold order ta'en?

The Archdeacon hath divided it

3.1.691601Into three limits very equally:

3.1.701602England from Trent and Severn hitherto

3.1.711603By south and east is to my part assigned;

3.1.721604All westward, Wales beyond the Severn shore

3.1.731605And all the fertile land within that bound,

3.1.741606To Owen Glendower; and, dear coz, to you

3.1.751607The remnant northward lying off from Trent.

3.1.761608And our indentures tripartite are drawn,

3.1.771609Which, being sealèd interchangeably --

3.1.781610A business that this night may execute --

3.1.791611Tomorrow, cousin Percy, you and I

3.1.801612And my good lord of Worcester will set forth

3.1.811613To meet your father and the Scottish power,

3.1.821614As is appointed us, at Shrewsbury.

3.1.831615My father Glendower is not ready yet,

3.1.841616Nor shall we need his help these fourteen days.

3.1.851617[To Glendower] Within that space you may have drawn together

3.1.861618Your tenants, friends, and neighboring gentlemen.

A shorter time shall send me to you, lords;

3.1.881620And in my conduct shall your ladies come,

3.1.891621From whom you now must steal and take no leave;

3.1.901622For there will be a world of water shed

3.1.911623Upon the parting of your wives and you.

Methinks my moiety north from Burton here

3.1.931625In quantity equals not one of yours.

3.1.941626See how this river comes me cranking in,

3.1.951627And cuts me from the best of all my land

3.1.961628A huge half-moon, a monstrous cantle, out.

3.1.971629I'll have the current in this place dammed up,

3.1.981630And here the smug and silver Trent shall run

3.1.991631In a new channel fair and evenly.

3.1.1001632It shall not wind with such a deep indent,

3.1.1011633To rob me of so rich a bottom here.

Not wind? It shall, it must -- you see it doth.

Yea, but mark how he bears his course, and runs me up

3.1.1041636With like advantage on the other side,

3.1.1051637Gelding the opposèd continent as much

3.1.1061638As on the other side it takes from you.

Yea, but a little charge will trench him here,

3.1.1081640And on this north side win this cape of land,

3.1.1091641And then he runs straight and even.

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

I'll not have it altered.

Will not you?

No, nor you shall not.

Who shall say me nay?

Why, that will I.

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

I can speak English, lord, as well as you,

3.1.1181651For I was trained up in the English court,

3.1.1191652Where, being but young, I framèd to the harp

3.1.1201653Many an English ditty lovely well,

3.1.1211654And gave the tongue a helpful ornament --

3.1.1221655A virtue that was never seen in you.

Marry, and I am glad of it with all my heart.

3.1.1241657I had rather be a kitten and cry "mew"

3.1.1251658Than one of these same meter ballad-mongers.

3.1.1261659I had rather hear a brazen can'stick turned,

3.1.1271660Or a dry wheel grate on the axle-tree,

3.1.1281661And that would set my teeth nothing on edge,

3.1.1291662Nothing so much as mincing poetry.

3.1.1301663'Tis like the forced gait of a shuffling nag.

Come, you shall have Trent turned.

I do not care. I'll give thrice so much land

3.1.1331666To any well-deserving friend;

3.1.1341667But in the way of bargain, mark ye me,

3.1.1351668I'll cavil on the ninth part of a hair.

3.1.1361669Are the indentures drawn? Shall we be gone?

The moon shines fair. You may away by night.

3.1.1381672I'll haste the writer, and withal

3.1.1391673Break with your wives of your departure hence.

3.1.1401674I am afraid my daughter will run mad,

3.1.1411675So much she doteth on her Mortimer.

Fie, cousin Percy, how you cross my father!

I cannot choose. Sometime he angers me

3.1.1441679With telling me of the moldwarp and the ant,

3.1.1451680Of the dreamer Merlin and his prophecies,

3.1.1461681And of a dragon and a finless fish,

3.1.1471682A clip-winged griffin and a molten raven,

3.1.1481683A couching lion and a ramping cat,

3.1.1491684And such a deal of skimble-skamble stuff

3.1.1501685As puts me from my faith. I tell you what,

3.1.1511686He held me last night at the least nine hours

3.1.1521687In reckoning up the several devils' names

3.1.1531688That were his lackeys. I cried "Hum," and "Well, go to,"

3.1.1541690But marked him not a word. Oh, he is as tedious

3.1.1551691As a tired horse, a railing wife,

3.1.1561692Worse than a smoky house. I had rather live

3.1.1571693With cheese and garlic, in a windmill, far,

3.1.1581694Than feed on cates and have him talk to me

3.1.1591695In any summer house in Christendom.

In faith, he is a worthy gentleman,

3.1.1611697Exceedingly well read, and profited

3.1.1621698In strange concealments, valiant as a lion,

3.1.1631699And wondrous affable, and as bountiful

3.1.1641700As mines of India. Shall I tell you, cousin?

3.1.1651702He holds your temper in a high respect,

3.1.1661703And curbs himself even of his natural scope

3.1.1671704When you come 'cross his humor, faith, he does.

3.1.1681705I warrant you, that man is not alive

3.1.1691706Might so have tempted him as you have done

3.1.1701707Without the taste of danger and reproof.

3.1.1711708But do not use it oft, let me entreat you.

In faith, my lord, you are too wilful-blame,

3.1.1731710And since your coming hither have done enough

3.1.1741711To put him quite besides his patience.

3.1.1751712You must needs learn, lord, to amend this fault.

3.1.1761713Though sometimes it show greatness, courage, blood --

3.1.1771714And that's the dearest grace it renders you --

3.1.1781715Yet oftentimes it doth present harsh rage,

3.1.1791716Defect of manners, want of government,

3.1.1801717Pride, haughtiness, opinion, and disdain,

3.1.1811718The least of which, haunting a nobleman,

3.1.1821719Loseth men's hearts, and leaves behind a stain

3.1.1831720Upon the beauty of all parts besides,

3.1.1841721Beguiling them of commendation.

Well, I am schooled. Good manners be your speed!

3.1.1861724Here come our wives, and let us take our leave.

This is the deadly spite that angers me:

3.1.1881727My wife can speak no English, I no Welsh.

My daughter weeps; she'll not part with you.

3.1.1901729She'll be a soldier too, she'll to the wars.

Good father, tell her that she and my aunt Percy

3.1.1921731Shall follow in your conduct speedily

She is desperate here, a peevish self-willed harlotry,

3.1.1941736One that no persuasion can do good upon.

I understand thy looks. That pretty Welsh

3.1.1961739Which thou pourest down from these swelling heavens

3.1.1971740I am too perfect in, and but for shame

3.1.1981741In such a parley should I answer thee.

I understand thy kisses, and thou mine,

3.1.2001744And that's a feeling disputation;

3.1.2011745But I will never be a truant, love,

3.1.2021746Till I have learnt thy language, for thy tongue

3.1.2031747Makes Welsh as sweet as ditties highly penned,

3.1.2041748Sung by a fair queen in a summer's bower

3.1.2051749With ravishing division, to her lute.

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

Oh, I am ignorance itself in this!

She bids you on the wanton rushes lay you down

3.1.2091755And rest your gentle head upon her lap,

3.1.2101756And she will sing the song that pleaseth you,

3.1.2111757And on your eyelids crown the god of sleep,

3.1.2121758Charming your blood with pleasing heaviness,

3.1.2131759Making such difference 'twixt wake and sleep

3.1.2141760As is the difference betwixt day and night

3.1.2151761The hour before the heavenly-harnessed team

3.1.2161762Begins his golden progress in the east.

With all my heart, I'll sit and hear her sing.

3.1.2181764By that time will our book, I think, be drawn.

Do so, and those musicians that shall play to you

3.1.2201767Hang in the air a thousand leagues from hence,

3.1.2211768And straight they shall be here. Sit and attend.

Come, Kate, thou art perfect in lying down.

3.1.2231770Come, quick, quick, that I may lay my head in thy lap.

Go, ye giddy goose!

Now I perceive the devil understands Welsh;

3.1.2261775And 'tis no marvel he is so humorous.

3.1.2271776By'r Lady, he is a good musician.

Then should you be nothing but musical,

3.1.2291778For you are altogether governed by humors.

3.1.2301779Lie still, ye thief, and hear the lady sing in Welsh.

I had rather hear Lady my brach howl in Irish.

Wouldst thou have thy head broken?

No.

Then be still.

Neither, 'tis a woman's fault.

Now god help thee!

To the Welsh lady's bed.

What's that?

Peace, she sings.

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

Not mine, in good sooth.

Not yours, in good sooth!

3.1.2431794Heart, you swear like a comfit-maker's wife:

3.1.2441795"Not you, in good sooth!" and "As true as I live!"

3.1.2451796And "As god shall mend me!" and "As sure as day!":

3.1.2461797And givest such sarcenet surety for thy oaths

3.1.2471798As if thou never walk'st further than Finsbury.

3.1.2481799Swear me, Kate, like a lady as thou art,

3.1.2491800A good mouth-filling oath, and leave "in sooth"

3.1.2501801And such protest of pepper gingerbread

3.1.2511802To velvet-guards and Sunday citizens.

3.1.2521803Come sing.

I will not sing.

'Tis the next way to turn tailor, or be redbreast teacher. 1806An the indentures be drawn, I'll away within these two hours; 1807and so come in when ye will.

Come, come, Lord Mortimer, you are as slow

3.1.2561810As hot Lord Percy is on fire to go.

3.1.2571811By this our book is drawn. We'll but seal,

3.1.2581812And then to horse immediately.

With all my heart.