Document:  All > Shakespeare > Histories > King Henry IV, part I > Act III, scene I

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

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

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

HOTSPUR: And you in hell, as oft as he hears Owen Glendower spoke of.

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

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

GLENDOWER: I say the earth did shake when I was born.

HOTSPUR: And I say the earth was not of my mind,
	If you suppose as fearing you it shook.

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

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

GLENDOWER:                   Cousin, of many men
	I do not bear these crossings. 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 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.

HOTSPUR: I think there's no man speaks better Welsh.
	I'll to dinner.

MORTIMER: Peace, cousin Percy; you will make him mad.

GLENDOWER: I can call spirits from the vasty deep.

HOTSPUR: Why, so can I, or so can any man;
	But will they come when you do call for them?

GLENDOWER: Why, I can teach you, cousin, to command
	The devil.

HOTSPUR: 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!

MORTIMER: Come, come, no more of this unprofitable chat.

GLENDOWER: 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.

HOTSPUR: Home without boots, and in foul weather too!
	How 'scapes he agues, in the devil's name?

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

MORTIMER: 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,
	Not shall we need his help these fourteen days.
	Within that space you may have drawn together
	Your tenants, friends and neighbouring gentlemen.

GLENDOWER: 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.

HOTSPUR: 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.

GLENDOWER: Not wind? it shall, it must; you see it doth.

MORTIMER: 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.

EARL OF WORCESTER: 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.

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

GLENDOWER: I'll not have it alter'd.

HOTSPUR: Will not you?

GLENDOWER: No, nor you shall not.

HOTSPUR: Who shall say me nay?

GLENDOWER: Why, that will I.

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

GLENDOWER: 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.

	And I am 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:
	'Tis like the forced gait of a shuffling nag.

GLENDOWER: Come, you shall have Trent turn'd.

HOTSPUR: 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?

GLENDOWER: 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.


MORTIMER: Fie, cousin Percy! how you cross my father!

HOTSPUR: I cannot choose: sometime he angers me
	With telling me of the mouldwarp 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
	That were his lackeys: I cried 'hum,' and 'well, go to,'
	But mark'd him not a word. O, he is as tedious
	As a tired horse, a 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.

MORTIMER: In faith, he is a worthy gentleman,
	Exceedingly well read, and profited
	In strange concealments, valiant as a lion
	And as 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 come '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.

EARL OF WORCESTER: 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.

HOTSPUR: 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]

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

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

MORTIMER: 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]

GLENDOWER: She is desperate here; a peevish self-wind harlotry,
	one that no persuasion can do good upon.

	[The lady speaks in Welsh]

MORTIMER: I understand thy looks: that pretty Welsh
	Which thou pour'st down from these swelling heavens
	I am too perfect in; and, but for shame,
	In such a parley should I answer thee.

	[The lady speaks again in Welsh]

	I understand thy kisses and thou mine,
	And that's a feeling disputation:
	But I will never be a truant, love,
	Till I have learned thy language; for thy tongue
	Makes Welsh as sweet as ditties highly penn'd,
	Sung by a fair queen in a summer's bower,
	With ravishing division, to her lute.

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

	[The lady speaks again in Welsh]

MORTIMER: O, I am ignorance itself in this!

GLENDOWER: She bids you on the wanton rushes lay you down
	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 wake and sleep
	As is the difference betwixt day and night
	The hour before the heavenly-harness'd team
	Begins his golden progress in the east.

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

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

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

LADY PERCY: Go, ye giddy goose.

	[The music plays]

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

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

HOTSPUR: I had rather hear Lady, my brach, howl in Irish.

LADY PERCY: Wouldst thou have thy head broken?


LADY PERCY: Then be still.

HOTSPUR: Neither;'tis a woman's fault.

LADY PERCY: Now God help thee!

HOTSPUR: To the Welsh lady's bed.

LADY PERCY: What's that?

HOTSPUR: Peace! she sings.

	[Here the lady sings a Welsh song]

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

LADY PERCY: Not mine, in good sooth.

HOTSPUR: Not yours, in good sooth! Heart! you swear like a
	comfit-maker's wife. 'Not you, in good sooth,' and
	'as true as I live,' and 'as God shall mend me,' and
	'as sure as day,'
	And givest such sarcenet surety for thy oaths,
	As if thou never walk'st further than Finsbury.
	Swear me, Kate, like a lady as thou art,
	A good mouth-filling oath, and leave 'in sooth,'
	And such protest of pepper-gingerbread,
	To velvet-guards and Sunday-citizens.
	Come, sing.

LADY PERCY: I will not sing.

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


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

MORTIMER: With all my heart.



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