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

Hot.
Lord Mortimer, and cousin Glendower,
Will you sit down?
And uncle Worcester: a plague upon it!
I have forgot the map. ^note

Glend.
No, here it is.
Sit, cousin Percy; sit, good cousin Hotspur,
For by that name as oft ^note as Lancaster
Doth speak of you, his cheek looks ^note pale and with
A rising sigh ^note he wisheth you in heaven. ^{note note}

Hot.

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

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

Hot.

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

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

Hot.
And I say the earth ^note was not of my mind,
If you suppose as fearing you it shook.

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

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 ^note 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 beldam earth and topples ^note down
Steeples and moss grown towers ^note. At your birth
Our grandam earth, having ^note this distemperature,
In passion shook.

Glend.
Cousin, of many men
I do not bear these crossings ^note. Give me leave
To tell you once again that at my birth
The front of heaven was full of fiery shapes,
The goats ran from the mountains, and the herds
Were strangely clamorous to ^note 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 ^note men.
Where is he ^note living, clipp'd in with the sea
That chides the banks of England, Scotland, Wales ^note,
Which calls me pupil, or hath read to me?
And bring him out that is but woman's son ^note
Can trace me in the tedious ways ^note of art
And ^note hold me pace in deep experiments. ^note

Hot.
I think there's ^note no man speaks better Welsh.
I'll ^note to dinner.

Mort.
Peace, cousin ^note 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 ^note, cousin ^note, to command
The devil ^note.

Hot.
And I can teach thee, coz ^note, to shame the devil
By telling truth: tell truth, and shame the devil ^note.
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 ^note.

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

Hot.
Home without boots, and in foul weather too ^note!
How 'scapes ^note he agues ^note, in the devil's name?

Glend.
Come, here's the map: shall we divide our right ^note
According to our threefold order ta'en?

Mort.
The archdeacon hath divided it ^note
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 ^note, to you
The remnant northward, lying off from Trent.
And our indentures tripartite are drawn ^note;
Which being sealed interchangeably,
A business that this night may execute,
To-morrow, cousin ^note 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. ^note
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 ^note there will be a world of water shed
Upon the parting of your wives and you.

Hot.
Methinks my moiety ^note, north from Burton here,
In quantity equals not one of yours:
See how this river comes me cranking ^note in,
And cuts me from the best of all my land
A huge half-moon, a monstrous ^note cantle ^note out.
I'll have the current in this place damm'd ^note 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 ^note 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. ^note

Wor.
Yea, but a little charge will trench him here
And on this north side win this cape of land;

And then ^note he runs ^note straight and even ^note.

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

Glend.
I'll ^note not have it alter'd.

Hot.
Will not you?

Glend.
No, nor you shall not.

Hot.
Who shall say me nay?

Glend.
Why, that will I.

Hot.

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

Glend.
I can speak English, lord, as well as you;
For I was train'd up in the English court;
Where, being but ^note 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 am glad of it ^note with all my heart:
I had rather be a kitten and cry mew
Than one of these same metre ^note ballad- ^notemongers;
I had rather hear a brazen canstick ^note turn'd ^note,
Or a dry wheel grate on the axle-tree;
And that would set my teeth nothing on ^note edge,
Nothing so much as mincing poetry:
'Tis like the forced 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 ^note well-deserving friend; ^note
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? ^note

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

Mort.
Fie, cousin ^note Percy! how you cross my father!

Hot.
I cannot choose: sometime ^note he angers me
With telling me ^note of ^note the moldwarp and the ant,
Of the ^note dreamer Merlin and his prophecies,
And of a dragon and a finless fish,
A clip-wing'd griffin and a moulten ^note raven,
A couching lion ^note and ^note 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 ^note night at least ^note nine hours
In reckoning up the several devils' names ^note
That were his lackeys: I cried ‘hum,’ and ‘well, go to ^note,’
But mark'd him not a word. O, he is ^note as tedious

As a tired horse, a ^note railing wife;
Worse than a smoky house: I had rather live
With cheese and garlic 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 ^note a worthy ^note gentleman,
Exceedingly ^note well read, and profited
In strange concealments, valiant as a lion
And wondrous affable and as ^note bountiful
As mines of India. Shall I tell you, cousin ^note?
He holds your temper in a high respect ^note
And curbs ^note himself even of his natural scope
When you come 'cross ^note 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 ^{note note};
And since your coming hither have done enough
To put him quite beside ^note his patience.
You must needs learn, lord, to amend this fault:
Though sometimes it show ^note 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 ^note
Loseth ^note men's hearts and leaves behind a stain
Upon the beauty of all parts ^note besides ^note,
Beguiling them of commendation. ^note

Hot.
Well, I am school'd: good manners be ^note your speed!
Here come our ^note wives, and let us take our leave ^note. Re-enter ^note Glendower with the ladies. ^note

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

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

Mort.
Good father, tell her that ^note she and my aunt ^note Percy
Shall follow in your conduct speedily. [Glendower ^note speaks to her in ^note Welsh, and she answers him in the same.

Glend.

She is ^note desperate here; a peevish self-will'd harlotry, one ^note that ^note no persuasion can do good upon ^note.

Mort.
I understand thy looks: that pretty Welsh
Which thou pour'st ^note down ^note from these ^note swelling ^note heavens
I am too perfect in; and, but for shame,

In such a parley should I ^note answer thee. [The lady speaks ^note again in Welsh.
I understand thy kisses and thou mine,
And that's a feeling ^note disputation:
But I will never be a truant, love,
Till I have learn'd thy language; for thy tongue
Makes Welsh as sweet ^note as ditties highly penn'd,
Sung by a fair queen in a summer's bower,
With ravishing division, to her lute.

Glend.
Nay, if ^note you ^note melt, then ^note will she run ^note mad ^note. [The lady speaks again in Welsh.

Mort.
O, I am ignorance itself in this!

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

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

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

^note

Hot.

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

Lady P.

Go, ye giddy goose.

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

Lady P.

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

Hot.

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

Lady P.

Wouldst thou ^note have thy head broken?

Hot.

No.

Lady P.

Then be still.

Hot.

Neither; 'tis a woman's fault.

Lady P.

Now God help thee!

Hot.

To the Welsh lady's bed.

Lady P.

What's that?

Hot.

Peace! she sings.

Hot.

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

Lady P.

Not mine, in good sooth.

Hot.

Not yours, in good sooth! Heart ^note! you swear like ^note a comfit-maker's wife. ‘Not you ^note, in good sooth,’ and ‘as true as I live,’ and ‘as ^note God shall mend me,’ and ‘as sure as day,’ ^note

And givest such sarcenet surety for thy oaths,
As if ^note thou never walk'st ^note further ^note than Finsbury.
Swear me, Kate, like a lady as thou art,
A good mouth-filling oath, and leave ‘in sooth,’
And such protest ^note of pepper-gingerbread,
To velvet-guards and Sunday-citizens.
Come, sing.

Lady P.

I will not sing.

Hot.

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

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

Mort.
With all my heart. [Exeunt. ^note

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