Imatges de pÓgina

Mort. 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.

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.
Glend. I will not have it alter'd.


Glend. No, nor you shall not.

Glend. Why, that will I.

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

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'm 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 an axle-tree;

And that would set my teeth nothing on edge,
Nothing so much as mincing poetry;

› For I was train'd up in the English court:] The real name of Owen Glendower was Vaughan, and he was originally a barrister of the Middle Temple.



the tongue-] The English language.

a brazen canstick turn'd,] The word candlestick, which destroys the harmony of the line, is written canstick in the quartos, 1598, 1599, and 1608; and so it was pronounced. Heywood, and several of the old writers, constantly spell it in this manner.

"Tis like the forc'd 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 well-deserving friend;

But, in the way of bargain, mark

I'll cavil on the ninth part of a hair.

ye me,

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:
I am afraid, my daughter will run mad,
So much she doteth on her Mortimer.


Mort. Fye, cousin Percy! how you cross my fa


Hot. I cannot choose: sometimes he angers me,
With telling me of the moldwarp 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, but last night, at least nine hours,
In reckoning up the several devils' names,
That were his lackeys: I cried, humph,—and well,—
go to,-

But mark'd him not a word. O, he's as tedious
As is a tired horse, a railing wife;

Worse than a smoky house:-I had rather live
With cheese and garlick, in a windmill, far,

8 I'll haste the writer,] He means the writer of the articles. 9 of the moldwarp and the ant,] This alludes to an old prophecy, which is said to have induced Owen Glendower to take arms against King Henry. The mould-warp is the mole, so called because it renders the surface of the earth unlevel by the hillocks which it raises.

Than feed on cates, and have him talk to me,
In any summer-house in Christendom.

Mort. In faith, he is a worthy gentleman;
Exceedingly well read, and profited.

In strange concealments; 2 valiant as a lion,
And wond'rous 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 do 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.

Wor. In faith, my lord, you are too wilfulblame;

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.

Hot. Well, I am school'd; good manners be your speed!

Here come our wives, and let us take our leave.




In strange concealments;] Skilled in wonderful secrets.

opinion,] means here self-opinion, or conceit.

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 hea


I am too perfect in; and, but for shame,

In such a parley would I answer thee.

[Lady M. speaks.

I understand thy kisses, and thou mine,
And that's a feeling disputation:*

But I will never be a truant, love,

Till I have learn'd 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."

Glend. Nay, if you melt, then will she run mad.

[Lady M. speaks again. Mort. O, I am ignorance itself in this.

a feeling disputation:] i. e. a contest of sensibility, a re

ciprocation in which we engage on equal terms.

5 With ravishing division, to her lute.] Divisions were very uncommon in vocal musick during the time of Shakspeare. BURNEY.

Glend. She bids you

Upon 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 eye-lids 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.

Mort. With all my heart I'll sit, and hear her


By that time will our book,' I think, be drawn.
Glend. Do so;

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

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.

GLENDOWER speaks some Welsh words, and then the Musick plays.

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

Lady P. 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.


Making such difference 'twixt wake and sleep,] She will lull you by her song into soft tranquillity, in which you shall be so near to sleep as to be free from perturbation, and so much awake as to be sensible of pleasure; a state partaking of sleep and wakefulness, as the twilight of night and day. JOHNSON.


our book,] Our paper of conditions.

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