READ STUDY GUIDE: Act III, scene i |
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Act III, Scene i:
Bangor. A Room in the Archdeacon's House.
Bangor. A Room in the Archdeacon's House.
| [Enter Hotspur, Worcester, Mortimer, and Glendower.] |
| 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. |
| GLEND.: |
| 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. |
| HOT.: |
| And you in Hell, as oft as he hears Owen Glendower spoke of. |
| GLEND.: |
| I cannot blame him: at my nativity |
| The front of heaven was full of fiery shapes, |
| Of burning cressets; ay, and at my birth |
| The frame and huge foundation of the Earth |
| Shaked like a coward. |
| HOT.: |
| Why, so it would have done at the same season, if your mother's |
| cat had but kitten'd, though yourself had never been born. |
| GLEND.: |
| I say the Earth did shake when I was born. |
| HOT.: |
| And I say the Earth was not of my mind, if you suppose as |
| fearing you it shook. |
| GLEND.: |
| The Heavens were all on fire, the Earth did tremble. |
| HOT.: |
| O, then th' 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. |
| GLEND.: |
| 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. |
| HOT.: |
| I think there is no man speaks better Welsh.—I'll to dinner. |
| 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've 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 'scaped he agues, in the Devil's name! |
| GLEND.: |
| Come, here's the map: shall we divide our right |
| According to our threefold order ta'en? |
| MORT.: |
| Th' 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, |
| Nor shall we need his help these fourteen days:— |
| [To Glend.] 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 there will be a world of water shed |
| Upon the parting of your wives and you. |
| HOT.: |
| 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 damn'd up; |
| And here the smug and sliver 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 bears his course, and runs me up |
| With like advantage on the other side; |
| Gelding th' 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 runneth straight and evenly. |
| HOT.: |
| I'll have it so: a little charge will do it. |
| GLEND.: |
| I will 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, then; speak it in Welsh. |
| 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 am glad of it with all my heart: |
| I had rather be a kitten, and cry mew, |
| Than one of these same metre ballet-mongers; |
| I had rather hear a brazen canstick turn'd, |
| Or a dry wheel grate on the axletree; |
| And that would set my teeth nothing on 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 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 in and 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. |
| [Exit.] |
| MORT.: |
| Fie, cousin Percy! how you cross my father! |
| 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 last night at the least nine hours |
| In reckoning up the several devils' names |
| That were his lacqueys: I cried hum, and well, |
| But mark'd him not a word. O, he's 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. |
| MORT.: |
| In faith, he is a worthy gentleman; |
| Exceedingly well-read, and profited |
| In strange concealments; valiant as a lion, |
| And 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 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 wilful-blunt; |
| 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. |
| [Re-enter Glendower, with Lady Mortimer and Lady Percy.] |
| 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 Lady Mortimer in Welsh, and she answers him in the same.] |
| GLEND.: |
| She's desperate here; a peevish self-will'd harlotry, |
| One that no persuasion can do good upon. |
| [Lady Mortimer speaks to Mortimer in Welsh.] |
| MORT.: |
| 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. |
| [Lady Mortimer speaks to him 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 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 Mortimer speaks to Mortimer again in Welsh.] |
| MORT.: |
| O, I am ignorance itself in this! |
| GLEND.: |
| 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 betwixt 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 sing: |
| By that time will our book, I think, be drawn. |
| GLEND.: |
| Do so: |
| An 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. |
| 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. |
| [The music 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. |
| HOT.: |
| I had rather hear Lady, my brach, howl in Irish. |
| LADY P.: |
| Wouldst thou 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.: |
| Peace! she sings. |
| [A Welsh song by Lady Mortimer.] |
| Come, Kate, I'll have your song too. |
| LADY P.: |
| Not mine, in good sooth. |
| HOT.: |
| Not yours, in good sooth! 'Heart! you swear like a |
| comfit-maker's wife. Not mine, 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 ne'er walk'dst 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 P.: |
| I will not sing. |
| HOT.: |
| 'Tis the next way to turn tailor, or be redbreast-teacher. |
| An the indentures be drawn, I'll away within these two hours; |
| and so, come in when ye will. |
| [Exit.] |
| GLEND.: |
| Come, come, Lord Mortimer; you are as slow |
| As hot Lord Percy is on fire to go. |
| By this our book's drawn; we'll but seal, and then |
| To horse immediately. |
| MORT.: |
| With all my heart. |
| [Exeunt.] |
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