SCENE I. Bangor. The Archdeacon's house. The First part of King Henry the Fourth  Shakespeare homepage  |  Henry IV, part 1  | Act 3, Scene 1 

 Previous scene  |  Next scene  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! 

 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. 

 HOTSPUR  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 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. 



 Exit GLENDOWER  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 

 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, 

 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? 

 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. 

 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. 



 Exit  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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