Hot. And I say the earth was not of my mind,

If you suppose as fearing you it shook.

Glend.

The heavens were all on fire; the earth did tremble. Hot. O! then the earth shook to see the heavens on fire, And not in fear of your nativity.

Diseased nature oftentimes breaks forth

In strange eruptions: oft the teeming earth

Is with a kind of colic pinch'd and vex'd

By the imprisoning of unruly wind

Within her womb; which, for enlargement striving,
Shakes the old beldame earth, and topples down
Steeples, and moss-grown towers. At your birth,
Our grandam earth, having this distemperature,
In passion shook.

Glend.

Cousin, of many men

I do not bear these crossings. Give me leave

The front of heaven was full of fiery shapes;

The goats ran from the mountains, and the herds
Were strangely clamorous to the frighted fields.
These signs have mark'd me extraordinary,
And all the courses of my life do show,

I am not in the roll of common men.

Where is he living, — clipp'd in with the sea

That chides the banks of England, Scotland, Wales, -
Which calls me pupil, or hath read to me?

And bring him out, that is but woman's son,
Can trace me in the tedious ways of art,

And hold me pace in deep experiments.

Hot. I think, there is no man speaks better Welsh.
I'll to dinner.

Mort. Peace, cousin Percy! you will make him mad.
Glend. I can call spirits from the vasty deep.

Hot. Why, so can I, or so can any man;

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

Glend. Why, I can teach you, cousin, to command the devil Hot. And I can teach thee, coz, to shame the devil,

By telling truth: tell truth, and shame the devil.

If thou have power to raise him, bring him hither,
And I'll be sworn, I have power to shame him hence.
O! while you live, tell truth, and shame the devil.

Mort. Come, come;

No more of this unprofitable chat.

Glend. Three times hath Henry Bolingbroke made head Against my power: thrice from the banks of Wye,

And sandy-bottom'd Severn, have I sent him,

Bootless home, and weather-beaten back.

Hot. Home without boots, and in foul weather too!

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

Glend. Come, here's the map: shall we divide our right, According to our three-fold order ta'en?

Mort. The archdeacon hath divided it

Into three limits, very equally.

England, from Trent and Severn hitherto,
By south and east is to my part assign'd:
All westward, Wales, beyond the Severn shore,
And all the fertile land within that bound,

To Owen Glendower: - and, dear coz, to you
The remnant northward, lying off from Trent.
And our indentures tripartite are drawn,
Which being sealed interchangeably,
(A business that this night may execute)
To-morrow, cousin Percy, you, and I,
And my good lord of Worcester, will set forth,
To meet your father, and the Scottish power,
As is appointed us, at Shrewsbury.
My father Glendower is not ready yet,

Nor shall we need his help these fourteen days.
Within that space you may have drawn together
Your tenants, friends, and neighbouring gentlemen.

Glend. A shorter time shall send me to you, lords;
And in my conduct shall your ladies come:
From whom you now must steal, and take no leave;

For there will be a world of water shed,
Upon the parting of your wives and you.

Hot. Methinks, my moiety, north from Burton here,
In quantity equals not one of yours.

See, how this river comes me cranking in,
And cuts me from the best of all

my

land

A huge half-moon, a monstrous cantle out.
I'll have the current in this place damm'd up,
And here the smug and silver Trent shall run,
In a new channel, fair and evenly:

It shall not wind with such a deep indent,

To rob me of so rich a bottom here.

Glend. Not wind? it shall; it must: you see, it doth. Mort. Yea, but mark, how he bears his course, and runs me up With like advantage on the other side;

Gelding the opposed continent, as much

As on the other side it takes from you.

Wor. Yea, but a little charge will trench him here,

And on this north side win this cape of land;

And then he runs straight and even.

Hot. I'll have it so: a little charge will do it.
Glend. I will not have it alter'd.

Hot.

Glend. No, nor you shall not.

Hot.

Glend. Why, that will I,

Hot.

Speak it in Welsh.

Will not you?

Who shall say me nay?

Let me not understand you then:

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

For I was train'd up in the English court;

Where, being but young, I framed to the harp

Many an English ditty, lovely well,

And gave the tongue a helpful ornament;

A virtue that was never seen in you.

Hot. Marry, and I'm glad of it with all my heart.

I had rather be a kitten, and cry mew,

Than one of these same metre ballad-mongers:

I had rather hear a brazen canstick turn'd,'
Or a dry wheel grate on the axle-tree;
And that would set my teeth nothing on edge,
Nothing so much as mincing poetry.

'T is like the fore'd gait of a shuffling nag.

Glend. Come, you shall have Trent turn'd.
Hot.

I do not care.

I'll give thrice so much land to any well-deserving friend;
But, in the way of bargain, mark ye me,

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

Are the indentures drawn? shall we be gone?

Glend. The moon shines fair, you may away by night: I'll haste the writer, and withal,

Break with your wives of your departure hence.

I am afraid my daughter will run mad,

So much she doteth on her Mortimer.

Mort. Fie, cousin Percy! how you cross my father.
Hot. I cannot choose: sometime he angers me
With telling me of the moldwarp and the ant,
Of the dreamer Merlin and his prophecies;
And of a dragon, and a finless fish,
A clip-wing'd griffin, and a moulten raven,
A couching lion, and a ramping cat,
And such a deal of skimble-skamble stuff
As puts me from my faith. I tell you what,
He held me, last night, at least nine hours,

In reckoning up the several devils' names,

[Exit.

That were his lackeys: I cried, "humph," and "well, go to," But mark'd him not a word. O! he's as tedious

As a tired horse, a railing wife;

Worse than a smoky house: I had rather live
With cheese and garlick in a windmill, far,
Than feed on cates, and have him talk to me,
In any summer-house in Christendom.

Mort. In faith, he is a worthy gentleman;
Exceedingly well read, and profited
In strange concealments; valiant as a lion

And wondrous affable, and as bountiful
As mines of India. Shall I tell you, cousin?
He holds your temper in a high respect,
And curbs himself even of his natural scope,
When you do cross his humour; 'faith, he does.
I warrant you, that man is not alive,

Might so have tempted him as you have done,
Without the taste of danger and reproof:

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

Wor. In faith, my lord, you are too wilful-blame, And since your coming hither have done enough

To put him quite beside his patience.

You must needs learn, lord, to amend this fault:
Though sometimes it show greatness, courage, blood,
And that's the dearest grace it renders you,
Yet oftentimes it doth present harsh rage,
Defect of manners, want of government,
Pride, haughtiness, opinion, and disdain:
The least of which, haunting a nobleman,
Loseth men's hearts, and leaves behind a stain
Upon the beauty of all parts besides,

Beguiling them of commendation.

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

Re-enter GLENDOWER, with the Ladies.

Mort. This is the deadly spite that angers me,

My wife can speak no English, I no Welsh.

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

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

[GLENDOWER speaks to her in Welsh, and she answers him in the same.

Glend. She's desperate here; a peevish self-will'd harlotry,

one