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 England, from Trent and Severn hitherto, To-morrow, cousin Percy, you, and I, And my good lord of Worcester, will set forth, My father Glendower is not ready yet, - Nor shall we need his help these fourteen days: Within that space, [To GLEND.] 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, Hot. Methinks, my moiety, north from Burton here, In quantity equals not one of yours: 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 Robbing the opposed continent as much, 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. 1 Corner. 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 And gave the tongue a helpful ornament; Hot. Marry, and I'm glad of it with all my heart; I had rather be a kitten, and cry-mew, 'Tis like the forc'd gait of a shuffling nag. 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: [Exit. Mort. Fye, cousin Percy! how you cross my father! 2 Candlestick. 3 Break the matter. Hot. I cannot choose: sometimes he angers me, A clip-wing'd griffin, and a moulten raven, That were his lackeys: I cried, humph, —and well, go to, But mark'd him not a word. O, he's as tedious Worse than a smoky house:- I had rather live Mort. In faith, he is a worthy gentleman; Might so have tempted him as you have done, 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,) 4 Mole. Yet oftentimes it doth present harsh rage, 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 his Daughter in Welsh, and she answers him in the same. Glend. She's desperate here; a peevish self-will'd harlotry, One no persuasion can do good upon. [Lady M. speaks to MORTIMER in Welsh. Mort. I understand thy looks; that pretty Welsh Which thou pourest down from these swelling heavens, I am too perfect in; and, but for shame, In such a parley would I answer thee. [Lady M. speaks. Í understand thy kisses, and thou mine, But I will never be a truant, love, Till I have learn'd thy language; for thy tongue |