| ACT III SCENE I | Bangor. The Archdeacon's house. |
| [Enter HOTSPUR, WORCESTER, MORTIMER, and GLENDOWER] |
| 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! | 5 |
| 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 | 10 |
| 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 | 15 |
| 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. | 20 |
| 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, | 25 |
| 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 | 30 |
| 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. | 35 |
| 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 | 40 |
| 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 | 45 |
| 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. | 50 |
| 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; | 55 |
| 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. | 60 |
| 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 | 65 |
| 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? | 70 |
| 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, | 75 |
| 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. | 80 |
| 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 | 85 |
| 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 | 90 |
| 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 | 95 |
| 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 | 100 |
| 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, | 105 |
| 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; | 110 |
| 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. | 115 |
| 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? | 120 |
| 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 | 125 |
| Many an English ditty lovely well |
| And gave the tongue a helpful ornament, |
| A virtue that was never seen in you. |
| HOTSPUR | Marry, |
| And I am glad of it with all my heart: | 130 |
| 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, | 135 |
| 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; | 140 |
| 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 | 145 |
| Break with your wives of your departure hence: |
| I am afraid my daughter will run mad, |
| So much she doteth on her Mortimer. |
| [Exit GLENDOWER] |
| MORTIMER | Fie, cousin Percy! how you cross my father! |
| HOTSPUR | I cannot choose: sometime he angers me | 150 |
| 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, | 155 |
| 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,' | 160 |
| 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 | 165 |
| 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 | 170 |
| 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 | 175 |
| 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 | 180 |
| 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, | 185 |
| 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, | 190 |
| 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. | 195 |
| 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, | 200 |
| 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. | 205 |
[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, | 210 |
| 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 | 215 |
| 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 | 220 |
| 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 | 225 |
| GLENDOWER | Do so; |
| 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, | 230 |
| 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. | 235 |
| 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? | 240 |
| HOTSPUR | No. |
| 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. | 245 |
| 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 | 250 |
| 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. | 255 |
| 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. | 260 |
| 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. |
| [Exit] |
| GLENDOWER | Come, come, Lord Mortimer; you are as slow | 265 |
| 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. |
| [Exeunt] |
1 Henry IV Overview (with theme analysis)