a

:

!

P. Hen. Sirrah, Falstaff and the rest of the thieves P. Hen. Where is it, Jack? where is it? are at the door. Shall we be merry

y?

Fal. Where is it? taken from us it is: a hundred Poins. As merry, as crickets, my lad. But hark ye! upon poor four of us. What cunning match have you made with this jest of P. Hen. What a hundred, man? the drawer? come, what's the issue?

Fal. I am a rogue, if I were not at half-sword with a P. Hen. I am now of all humours, that have shewed dozen of them two hours together. I have 'scap'd by themselves humours, since the old days of goodman miracle. I am eight times thrust through the doublet; Adam to the pupil age of this present twelve o'clock four, through the hose; my buckler cut through and at midnight. (Re-enter Francis, with wine.] What's through; my sword hacked like a hand-saw, ecce sio'clock, Francis ?

gnunn. I never dealt better since I was a man: all would Fran. Anon, anon, sir.

not do. A plague of all cowards ! -Let them speak: P. Hen. That ever this fellow should have fewer if they speak more or less than truth, they are vilains, words, than a parrot, and yet the son of a woman!- and the sons of darkness. His industry is upstairs, and downstairs ; his elo-P. Hen. Speak, sirs ! how was it? quence the parcel of a reckoning. I am not yet of Gads. We four set upon some dozen, – Percy's mind, the Hotspur of the north ; he, that kills Fal. Sixteen, at least, my lord. me some six, or seven dozen of Scots at a breakfast, Gads. And bound them. washes his hands, and says to his wife, Fye upon Peto. No, no, they were not bound. this quiet life! I want work. O my sweet Harry, says Fal. You rogue,they were bound, every man of them; she, how many hast thou killed to-day? Give my or I am a Jew else, an Ebrew Jew. roan horse a drench, says he; and answers, Some four-Gads. As we were sharing, some six or seven fresh teen, an hour after; a trifle, a trifle. I pr’ythee, call men set upon us, in Falstaff! I'll play Percy, and that damned brawn Fal. And unbound the rest, and then come in the shall play dame Mortimer his wife. Rivo, says the other. drunkard. Callin ribs, call in tallow!

P. Hen. What, fought ye with them all? Enter FALSTAFF, GADSHILL, BARDOLPH and Peto. Fal. All? I know not what ye call, all; but if I fought Poins. Welcome, Jack! Where hast thou been? not with fifty of them, I am a bunch of radish: if there Fal. A plague of all cowards, I say, and a vengeance were not two or three and fifty upon poor old Jack, too! marry, and amen!-Give me a cup of sack, boy!- then am I no two-legged creature. Ere I lead this life long, I'll sew nether-stocks, and Poins. Pray God, you have not murdered some of mend them, and foot them too. A plague of all them. cowards !–Give me a cup of sack, rogue.-Is there no Fal. Nay, that's past praying for: for I have peppered virtue extant ?

(He drinks. two of them: two, I am sure, I have paid; two P. Hen. Didst thou never see Titan kiss a dish of but-rogues in buckram suits. I tell thee what, Hal,- if I tell ter? pitiful-hearted Titan, that melted at the sweet thee a lie, spit in my face, call me horse! Thou knowtale of the son ? If thou didst, then behold that com- est my old ward; – here I lay, and thus I bore my pound!

point. Four rogues in buckram let drive at me, Fal. You rogue, here's lime in this sack too. P. Hen. What, four? thou said'st but two, even now. There is nothing but roguery to be found in villain- Fal. Four, Hal; I told thee four. ous man; yet a coward is worse, than a cup of Poins. Ay, ay, he said four. sack with lime in it; a villainous coward. Go thy Fal. These four came all a-front, and mainly thrust ways, old Jack ! die, when thou wilt ; if manhood, good at me, I made me no more ado, but took all their seven manhood, be not forgot upon the face of the earth, points in my target, thus. then am I a shotten herring. There live not three good P. Hen. Seven? why, there were but four, even now, men unhanged in England; and one of them is fat, and Fal. In buckram. grows old. God help the while! a bad world, I say! Poins. Ay, four, in buckram suits. i would, I were a weaver ;I could sing psalms, or any Pal. Seven, by these hilts, or I am a villain else. thing. A plague of all cowards !I say still.

P. Hen. Pr’ythee, let him alone; we shall have more P. Hen. How now, wool-sack? what mutter you? Fal. A king's son! If I do not beat thee ont of thy Fal. Dost thou hear me, Hal? ' kingdom with a dagger of lath, and drive all thy sub- P. Hen. Ay, and mark thee too, Jack. jects afore thee, like a fock of wild geese, I'll never Fal. Do so, for it is worth the listening to. These wear hair on my face more. You prince of Wales ! nine in buckram, that I told thee of,

P. Hen. Why, you whoreson round man !, what's P. Hen. So, two mere already. the matter?

Fal. Their points being broken, Fal. Are you not a coward ? answer me to that; and Poins. Down fell their hose. Poins there?

Fal. Began to give me ground: but I followed me Poins. 'Zounds, ye fat paunch, an ye call me coward, close, came in foot and hand, and, with a thought, I'll stab thee.

seven of the eleven I paid. Ful. I call thee coward! I'll see thee damned, ere Il P. Hen. O monstrous ! eleven buckram men grown call thee coward: but I would give a thousand pound, out oftwo! I could run as fast, as thou canst. You are straight Fal. But, as the devil would have it, three misbegotenough in the shoulders, you care not, who sees your ten knaves, in Kendal green, came at my back, andlet back. Call you that backing of your friends? A plague drive at me ;-for it was so dark, Hal, that thou upon such backing!give me them, that will face me! couldst not see thy hand. Give me a cup of sack !-I am a rogue,if I drunk to-day. P. Hen. These lies are like the father, that begets P.Hen. O villain! thy lips are scarce wiped, since thou them, gross as a mountain, open, palpable. Why, drunk'st last.

thou clay-brained guts, thou knotty-pated fool, thou Fal. All's one for that. A plague of all cowards, still whoreson, obscene, greasy tallow-keech,

[lle drinks. Fal. What, art thou mad? art thou mad? is not the P. Hen. What's the matter?

truth the truth? Fal. What's the matter? there be four of us here P. Hen. Why, how could'st thou know these men in have ta'en thousand pound this morning.

Kendal green, when it was so dark, thou could'st pot

anon.

say I,

Mark now,

a

see thy hand ? Come, tell us your reason! What sayest, he would swear truth out of England, but he would thou to this?

make you believe, it was done in fight; and persuaded Poins. Come, your reason, Jack, your reason! us to do the like. Fal. What, upon compulsion ? No; were I at the Bard. Yea, and to tickle our noses with spear-grass, strappado, or all the racks in the world, I would not to make them bleed; and then to beslubber our gartell you on compulsion. Give you a reason on compul- ments with it, and to swear, it was the blood of true sion!if reasons were as plenty, as blackberries, I would men. I did that I did not this seven years before, I give no man a reason upon compulsion, I.

blushed to hear his monstrous devices. P. Hen. I'll be no longer guilty of this sin, this san- P. Hen. O villain, thou stolest a cup of sack eighteen gnine coward, this bed-presser, this horse-back- years ago, and wert taken with the manner, and ever breaker, this huge hill of flesh

since thou hast blushed extempore. Thou hadst fire Fal. Away, you starveling, you elf-skin, you dried and sword on thy side, and yet thou ran’st away; what neats-tongue, bull's pizzle, you stock-fish! -0, for instinct hadst thou for it? breath to utter, what is like thee ! - you tailor's yard, Bard. My lord, do you see these meteors? do you you sheath, you bow-case, you vile standing tuck! - behold these exhalations?

P. Hen. Well, breath awhile, and then to it again ! P. Hen. I do.
and when thou hast tired thyself in base comparisons, Bard. What think you they portend ?
hear me speak but this !

P. Hen. Hot livers and cold purses.
Poins. Mark, Jack!

Bard. Choler, my lord, if rightly taken. P. Hen. We two saw you four set on four; you bound P. Hen. No, if rightly taken, halter. them, and were masters of their wealth.

Re-enter FALSTAFF. how plain a tale shall put you down. Then did we two Here comes lean Jack, here comes bare-bone. How set on you four, and with a word out-faced you from now, my sweet creature of bombast? How long is't ago, your prize, and have it, yea, and can show it you Jack, since thou sawest thine own knee? here in the house:-and, Falstaff, you carried your Fal. My own knee? when I was about thy years, Hal, guts away as nimbly, with a quick dexterity, and roar- I was not an eagle's talon in the waist; I could have ed for mercy, and still ran and roared, as ever I heard crept into any alderman's thumb-ring. A plague of bull-calf. What a slave art thou, to hack thy sword, as sighing and grief ! it blows a man up, like a bladder.' thou hast done, and then say, it was in fight! What There's villainous news abroad: here was sir John trick, what device, what starting-hole, canst thou now Bracy from your father; you must to the court in the find out, to hide thee from this open and apparent morning. That same mad fellow of the north, Percy, shame?

and he of Wales, that gave Amaimon the bastinado, Poins. Come, let's hear, Jack! What trick hast thou and made Lucifer cuckold, and swore the devil his now?

true liegeman upon the cross of a Welsh hook, Fal. By the Lord, I knew ye, as well as he, that made What, a plague, call you him? ye. Why, hear ye, my masters! Was it for me to kill Poins. 0, Glendower. the heir-apparent?Should I turn upon the true prince? Ful. Owen, Owen; the same; and his son-inWhy, thou knowest, I am as valiant, as Hercules : but law, Mortimer, and old Northumberland, and that beware instinct; the lion will not touch the true prince. sprightly Scot of Scots, Douglas, that runs o’horseInstinct is a great matter; I was a coward on instinct. back up a hill perpendicular. I shall think the better of myself and thee, during my P. Hen. He, that rides at high speed, and with his life; I, for a valiant lion, and thou for a true prince. pistol kills a sparrow flying. But, by the Lord, lads, I am glad, you have the money. I Fal. You have hit it. - Hostess, clap to the doors, watch to-night, pray

P. Hen. So did he never the sparrow. to-morrow! – Gallants, lads, boys, hearts of gold, Fal. Well, that rascal hath good mettle in him; he all the titles of good fellowship come to you! What, will not run. shall we be merry ? shall we have a play extempore? P.Hen. Why, what a rascal art thou then, to praise

P. Hen. Content! and the argument shall be thy him so for running? running away.

Fal. O’horseback, ye cuckoo! but, afoot, he will not Ful. Ah! no more of that, Hal, an thou lovest me! budge a foot. Enter Hostess.

P. Hen. Yes, Jack, upon instinct. Host. My lord the prince,

Fal. I grant ye, upon instinct. Well, he is there too, P. Hen. How now, my lady the hostess? what say'st and one Mordake, and a thousand blue-caps more. thou to me?

Worcester is stolen away to-night; thy father's beard Host. Marry, my lord, there is a nobleman of the is turned white with the news ; you may buy land now court at door, would speak with you: he says he comes as cheap, as stinking mackarel. from your father.

P. Hen. Why then, 'tis like, if there come a hot June, P. Hen. Give him as much, as will make him a royal and this civil buffeting hold, we shall bay maidenman, and send him back again to my mother! heads, as they buy hob-nails, by the hundreds. Fal. What manner of man is he?

Fal. By the mass, lad, thou sayest true ; it is like, Host. An old man.

we shall have good trading that way. — But, tell me, Fal. What doth gravity out of his bed at midnight? Hal, art thou not horribly afeard ? 'thou being heir-Shall I give him his answer?

apparent, could the world pick thee ont three such P. Hen. Pr'ythee, do, Jack !

enemies again, as that fiend Douglas, that spirit Percy, Fal. 'Faith, and I'll send him packing. (Exit. and that devil Glendower? Art thou not horribly P. Hen. Now, sirs; by'r-lady, you fought fair; afraid ? doth not thy blood thrill at it? 80 did you, Peto; so did you, Bardolph: you are P. Hen. Not a whit, i'faith; I lack some of thy lions too, you ran away upon instinct, you will not instinct. touch the true prince; no, — fye!

Fal. Well, thou wilt be horribly chid to-morrow, Bard. 'Faith, I ran, when I saw others ron.

when thou comest to thy father. If thou love me, pracP. Hen. Tell me now in earnest, how came Falstaff's tise an answer! sword so hacked?

P. Hen. Do thou stand for my father, and examine me Peto. Why, he hacked it with his dagger; and said, I upon the particulars of my life!

a

crown.

a

Fal. Shall I? content: this chair shall be my mours, that bolting-hatch of beastliness, that swoln state, this dagger my sceptre, and this cushion my parcel of dropsies, that huge bombard of sack,

that stuffed cloak-bag of guts, that roasted ManP. Hen. Thy state is taken for a joint-stool, thy gol- ningtree ox with the pudding in his belly, that den sceptre for a leaden dagger, and thy precious rich reverend vice, that grey iniquity, that father rufcrown for a pitiful bald crown!

fian, that vanity in years ? Wherein is he good, Fal. Well, an the fire of grace be not quite out of but to taste sack ad drink it? wherein neat and thee, now shalt thou be moved. - Give me a cup of cleanly, but to carve a capon and eatit? wherein consack, to make mine eyes look red, that it may be ning, but in craft? wherein crafty, but in villainy ? thought, I have wept; for I must speak in passion, and wherein villainous, but in all things? wherein worthy, I will do it in king Cambyses' vein.

but in nothing? P. Hen. Well, here is my leg.

Fal. I would, your grace would take me with

you. Fal. And here is my speech.-- Stand aside, nobility! Whom means your grace? Host. This is excellent sport, i'faith.

P. Hen. That villainous abominable misleader of Fal. Weep not, sweet queen! for trickling tears are youth, Falstaff, that old white-bearded Satan. vain.

Fal. My lord, the man I know. Host. 0, the father, how he holds his countenance! P. Hen. I know, thou dost, Fal. For God's sake, lords, convey my tristful queen, Fal. But to say, I know more harm in him, than in For tears do stop the flood-gates of her eyes. myself, were to say more, than I know. That he is old,

Host. O rare! he doth it as like one of these harlotry (the more the pity,) his white hairs do witness it: bat players, as I ever see.

that he is (saving your reverence,)a whoremaster, that Ful. Peace, good pint-pot! peace, good tickle-brain! I utterly deny. If sack and sugar be a fault, God help –Harry, I do not only marvel, where thou spendest the wicked! If to be old and merry be a sin, then many thy time, but also how thou art accompanied ; for an old host, that I know, is damned : if to be fat be to though the camomile, the more it is trodden on, the be hated, then Pharaoh's lean kine are to be loved. faster it grows, yet youth, the more it is wasted, the No, my good lord; banish Peto, banish Bardolph, basooner it wears. That thou art my son, I have partly vish Poins! but for sweet Jack Falstaff, kind Jack Falthy mother's word, partly my own opinion;but chiefly, staff,true Jack Falstaff, valiant Jack Falstaff, and there. a villainous trick of thine eye, and a foolish hanging fore more valiant, being as he is,old JackFalstaff,banish of thy nether lip, that doth warrant me. If then thou not him thy Harry's company, banish not him thy Harbe són to me, here lies the point:- Why, being son ry's company; banish plump Jack, and banish all the to me, art thou so pointed at? Shall the blessed sun world! of heaven prove a micher, and eat blackberries ? a P Hen. I do, I will.

[A knocking heard. question not to be asked! Shall the son of England

(Exeunt Hostess, Francis, and Burdolph. prove a thief, and take purses? a question to be asked!

Re-enter BARDOLPH, running. There is a thing, Harry, which thou hast often heard Bard. O, my lord, my lord, the sheriff, with a most of, and it is known to many in our land by the name of monstrous watch, is at the door. pitch: this pitch, as ancient writers do report, doth Fal. Out, you rogue ! play out the play! I have much defile; so doth the company thou keepest; for, Har- to say in the behalf of that Falstaff. ry, now I do not speak to thee in drink, but in tears,

Re-enter Hostess, hastily. not in pleasure, but in passion, . not in words only, but Host. O Jesu, my lord, my lord ! in woes also.- And yet there is a virtuous man, whom Fal. Heigh, heigh! the devil rides upon a fiddlestick. I have often noted in thy company, but I know not his What's the matter?

Host. The sheriff and all the watch are at the door; P.Hen. What manner of man,an it like your majesty ? they are come to search the house. Shall I let Fal. A good portly man, i'faith, and a corpulent, of them in? a cheerful look, a pleasing eye, and a most noble car- Fal. Dost thou hear, Hal? never call a true piece of riage, and, as I think, his age some fifty, or, by'r gold a counterfeit! thou art essentially mad, without lady, inclining to threescore; and now I remember me, seeming so. his name is Falstaff. If that man should be lewdly P. Hen. And thou a natural coward, without instinct. given, he deceiveth me; for, Harry, I see virtue in his Fal. I deny your major: if you will deny the sheriff, looks. If then the tree may be known by the fruit, as so; if not, let him enter! if I become not a cart as well the fruit by the tree, then, peremptorily I speak it, as another man, a plague on my bringing up! I hope, there is virtue in that Falstaff: him keep with, the rest I shall as soon be strangled with a halter, as another. banish! And tell me now, thou naughty varlet, tell me, P. Hen. Go, hide thee behind the arras!

the rest where hast thou been this month ?

walk up above! Now, my masters, for a true face, and P. Hen. Dost thou speak like a king? Do thou stand good conscience. for me, and I'll play my father.

Fal. Both which I have had: but their date is out, and Fal. Depose me? if thou dost it half so gravely, so therefore I'll hide me. majestically, both in word and matter, hang me up by

(Exeunt all but the Prince and Poins. the heels for a rabbit-sucker, or a poulter's hare ! P. Hen. Call in the sheriff!P. Hen. Well, here I am set.

Enter Sheriff and Carrier. Fal. And here I stand. — Judge, my masters. Now, master sheriff; what's your will with me? P. Hen. Now, Harry? whence come you? Sher. First, pardon me, my lord! A hue and cry Fal. My noble lord, from Eastcheap.

Hath follow'd certain men unto this house. P. Hen. The complaints, I hear of thee, are grievous. P. Hen. What men? Fal. 'Sblood, my lord, they are false: nay, I'll Sher. One of them is well known, my gracious lord: tickle ye for a young prince, i'faith.

fat P. Hen. Swearest thou, ungracious boy? hence- Car. As fat as butter. forth ne'er look on me! Thou art violently carried P. Hen. The man, I do assare you, is not here;

there is a devil haunts thee, in the For I myself at this time have employ'd him. Jikeness of a fat old man: a tun of man is thy compa- And, sheriff, I will engage my word to thee, nion. Why dost thou converse with that trupk of hu- That I will, by to-morrow dinner-time,

name,

A gross

man.

a

:

Send him to answer thee, or any man,

Is with a kind of colic pinch'd and ver’d For any thing he shall be charg'd withal:

By the imprisoning of unruly wind And so let me entreat you,leave the house!

Within her womb; which, for enlargement striving, Sher. I will, my lord. There are two gentlemen, Shakes the old beldame earth, and topples down Have in this robbery lost three hundred marks. Steeples, and moss-grown towers. At your birth,

P. Hen. It may be so: if he have robb’d these men, Our grandam earth, having this distemperature, He shall be answerable; and so, farewell !

In passion shook.
Sher. Good night, my noble lord!

Glend. Cousin, of many men
P. Hen. I think, it is good morrow; is it not? I do not bear these crossings. Give me leavo
Sher. Indeed, my lord, I think, it be two o'clock. To tell you once again, that at my birth

[Exeunt Sheriff and Carrier. The front of heaven was full of fiery shapes, P. Hen. This oily rascal is known as well, as Paul's. The goats ran from the mountains, and the herds Go, call him forth!

Were strangely clamorous to the frighted fields. Poins. Falstaff! – fast asleep behind the arras, and These signs have mark'd me extraordinary; snorting, like a horse.

And all the courses of my life do show,
P. Hen. Hark, how hard he fetches breath! Search I am not in the roll of common men.
his pockets ! (Poins searches.] What hast thou found? Where is he living, - clipp'd in with the sea,
Poins. Nothing but papers, my lord.

That chides the banks of England, Scotland, Wales,-
P. Hen. Let's see what they bo: read them! Which calls me pupil, or hath read to me?
Poins. Item, A capon, 2s. 2d.

And bring him out, that is but woman's son, Item, Sauce, 40.

Can trace me in the tedious ways of art, Item, Sack, two gallons, 5s, 8d.

And hold me pacein deep experiments ! Item, Anchovies, and sack after supper, 2s.6d. Hot. Ithink, there is no man, speaks better Welsh. Item, Bread, a halfpenny.

I will to dinner. P. Hen. O monstrous! but one halfpenny-worth of Mort. Peace, cousin Percy! you will make him mad. bread to this intolerable deal of sack! - What there is Glend. I can call spirits from the vasty deep. else,keep close; we'll read it at more advantage: there Hot. Why, so can I, or so can any man; let him sleep till day! I'll to the court in the morn- But will they come, when you do call for them? ing: we must all to the wars, and thy place shall be Glend. Why, I can teach you, cousin, to command honourable. I'll procure this fat rogue a charge of The devil. foot; and, I know, his death will be a march of twelve- Hot. And I can teach thee, coz, to shame the devil, score. The money shall be paid back again with ad- By telling truth. Tell truth, and shame the devil!-vantage. Be with me betimes in the morning; and so If thon have power to raise him, bring him hither, good morrow, Poins !

And I'll be sworn, I have power to shame him hence. Poins. Good morrow, good my lord ! Exeunt. 0, while you live, tell truth, and shame the devil!

Mort. Come, come,
А ст

No more of this unprofitable chat!
III.

Glend. Three times hath Henry Bolingbroke made SCENEI. - Bangor. A room in the Archdeacon's head house.

Against my power: thrice from the banks of Wye, Enter Hotspur, Worcester, MORTIMER, and GLEN- And sandy-bottom'd Severn, have I sent him

Bootless home, and weather-beaten back. Mort. These promises are fair, the parties sure, Hot. Home without boots, and in foul weather too! And our induction full of prosperous hope.

How'scapes he agues, in the devil's name? Hot. Lord Mortimer, — and cousin Glendower, - Glend. Come, here's the map; shall we divide our Will you sit down?

right, And, uncle Worcester - A plague upon it!

According to our three-fold order ta’en? I have forgot the map.

Mort. The archdeacon hath divided it
Glend. No, here it is.

Into three limits, very equally:
Sit, cousin Percy! sit, good cousin Hotspur! England, from Trent and Severn hitherto,
For by that name, as oft as Lancaster

By south and east, is to my part assign'd:
Doth speak of you, his cheek looks pale, and with All westward, Wales beyond the Severn shore,
Arising sigh, he wisheth you in heaven.

And all the fertile land within that bound,
Hot. And you in hell, as often as he hears

To Owen Glendower:— and, dear coz, to you Owen Glendower spoke of.

The remnant northward, lying off from Treut. Glend. I cannot blame him : at my nativity,

And our indentures tripartite are drawn: The front of heaven was full of fiery shapes,

Which being sealed interchangeably, Of burning cressets; and, at my birth,

(A business, that this night may execute,) The frame and huge foundation of the earth

To-morrow, cousin Percy, you, and I, Shak'd like a coward.

And my good lord of Worcester, will set forth, Hot. Why, so it would have done

To meet your father, and the Scottish power, At the same season, if your mother's cat had

As is appointed us, at Shrewsbury. But kitten'd, though yourself had ne'er been born. My father Glendower is not ready yet, Glend. I say, the earth did shake, when I was born. Nor shall we need his help these fourteen days. — Hot. And I say, the carth was not of my mind, Within that space, (To Glend.) you may have drawn If you suppose, as fearing you it shook.

together Glend. The heavens were all on fire, the earth did Your tenants, friends, and neighbouring gentlemen. tremble.

Glend. A shorter time shall send me to you, lords, Hot. O, then the earth shook to see the heavens on And in my conduct shall your ladies come : fire,

From whom you now must steal, and take no leave; And not in fear of your nativity.

For there will be a world of water shed, Diseased nature oftentimes breaks forth

Upon the parting of your wives and you. In strange eruptions: oft the teeming earth

Hot. Methinks, my moiety, north from Burton here,

DOWER.

In quantity equals not one of yours.

And wond'rous affable, and as bountiful, See, how this river comes me cranking in,

As mines of India. Shall I tell you, cousin ? And cuts me, from the best of all my land,

He holds your temperin a high respect, A huge half moon, a monstrous cantle out.

And curbs himself even of his natural scope, I'll have the current in this place damm'd up; When you do cross his humour ; 'faith, he does : And here the smug and silver Trent shall run, I warrant you, that man is not alive, In a new channel, fair and evenly:

Might so have tempted him, as you have done, It shall not wind with such a deep indent,

Without the taste of danger and reproof; Torob me of so rich a bottom here.

But do not use it oft, let me entreat you! Glend. Not wind ? it shall, it must; you see, it doth. Wor. In faith, my lord, you are too wilful-blame, · Mort. Yea,

And since your coming hither have done enough
But mark, how he bears his course, and runs me up To put him quite beside his patience.
With like advantage on the other side,

You must needs learn, lord, to amend this fanlt:
Gelding the opposed continent as much,

Though sometimes it show greatness, courage, blood, As on the other side ittakes from you.

(And that's the dearest grace it renders you,) Wor. Yea, but a little charge will trench him here, Yet oftentimes it doth present harsh rage, And on this north side win this cape of land;

Defect of manners, want of government, And then he runs straight and even.

Pride, haughtiness, opinion, and disdain : Hot. I'll have it so; a little charge will do it. The least of which, haunting a nobleman, Glend. I will not have it alter'd.

Loseth men's hearts, and leaves behind a stain Hot. Will not you?

Upon the beauty of all parts besides, Glend. No, nor you shall not.

Beguiling them of commerdation. Hot. Who shall say me nay?

Hot. Well, I am school'd; good manners be your Glend. Why, that will I.

speed! Hot. Let me not understand you then,

Here come our wives, and let us take our leave. Speak it in Welsh!

Re-enter Glendower with the Ladies. Glend. I can speak English, lord, as well as you; Mort. This is the deadly spite that angers me, – For I was train’d up in the English court:

My wife can speak no English, I no Welsh. Where, being but young, I framed to the harp Glend. My daughter weeps; she will not part with Many an English ditty, lovely well,

you, And gave the tongue a helpful ornament;

She'll be a soldier too, she'll to the wars. A virtue, that was never seen in you!

Mort. Good father, tell her, - that she, and my Hot. Marry, and I'm glad of it with all my heart. aunt Percy, I had rather be a kitten, and cry mew,

Shall follow in your conduct speedily. Than one of these same metre ballad-mongers.

(Glendower speaks to his daughter in Welsh, and I had rather hear a brazen canstick turn’d,

she answers him in the same. Or a dry wheel grate on an axle-tree ;

Glend. She's desperate here; a peevish selfwillid And that would set my teeth nothing on edge,

harlotry, Nothing so much as mincing poetry;

One no persuasion can do good upon. 'Tis like the forc'd gaitof a shuffling nag.

[Lady M. speaks to Mortimer in Welsh. Glend. Come, you shall have Trent turn'd.

Mort. I understand thy looks: that pretty Welsh, Ilot. I do not care: I'll give thrice so much land Which thou pourest down from these swelling To any well-deserving friend;

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

sam too perfect in; and, but for shame, I'll cavil on the ninth part of a hair.

In such a parley would I answer thee. Are the indentures drawn? shall we be gone?

[ Lady M. speaks. Glend. The moon shines fair, you may away by night. I understand thy kisses, and thou mine, I'll haste the writer, and, withal,

And that's a feeling disputation: Break with your wives of your departure hence. But I will never be a truant, love, I am afraid, my daughter will run mad,

Till I have learn’d thy language; for thy tongue So much she doteth on her Mortimer. [Exit. Makes Welsh as sweet, as ditties highly penn'd, Mort. Fye, cousin Percy! how yon cross my father! Sung by a fair queen in a summer's bower, Hot. I cannot choose: sometimes he angers me With ravishing division, to her late. With telling me of the mold warp and the ant, Glend. Nay, if you melt, then will she run mad. of the dreamer Merlin and his prophecies,

(Lady M. speaks again. And of a dragonand a finless fish,

Mort. 0, I amignorance itself in this. A clip-wing'd griffin, and a moulten raven,

Glend. She bids you A couching lion, and a ramping cat,

Upon the wanton rushes lay you down,
And such a deal of skimble-skamble stuff,

And rest your gentle head upon her lap,
As puts me from my faith. I tell you what,- And she will sing the song, that pleaseth you,
He held me but last night, at least nine hours, And on your eye-lids crown the god of sleep,
In reckoning up the several devils' names,

Charming your blood with pleasing heaviness; That were his lackeys : I cried, humph,-and well, - Making such difference 'twixt wake and sleep, go to,

As is the difference betwixt day and night,
But mark'd him not a word. O, he's as tedious, The hour before the heavenly-harness'd team
As is a tired horse, a railing wife;

Begins his golden progress in the east.
Worse than a smoky house. —I had rather live, Mort. With all my heart I'll sit, and hear her sing.
With cheese and garlick, in a windmill, far,

By that time will our book, I think, be drawn. Than feed on cates, and have him talk to me,

Glend. Do so! In any summer-house in Christendom.

And those musicians, that shall play to you, Mort. In faith, he is a worthy gentleman,

Hang in the air a thousand leagues from hence; Exceedingly well read, and profited

Yet straight they shall be here, sit, and attend! In strange concealments, variant as a lion,

Hot. Come, Kate, thou art perfect in lying down :

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