Mort. Th' Archdeacon hath divided it England, from Trent, and Severn hitherto, My father Glendower is not ready yet, Nor fhall we need his help these fourteen days: Within that space, you may have drawn together Your tenants, friends, and neighbouring gentlemen. Glend. A fhorter time fhall fend me to you, lords: And in my conduct fhall 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. 2 There, "Hot. Methinks, my portion, north from Burton In quantity equals not one of yours: See, how this river comes me crankling in, 2 Methinks, my moiety, Hot-fpur is here just such a divider as the Iriman who made three halves: Therefore, for the honour of Shakespear, I will fuppofe, with the Oxford Editor, that he wrote partion. It shall not wind with fuch a deep indent, Glend. Not wind? it shall, it must; you fee, it doth. Mort. But mark, he bears his course, and runs me up With like advantage on the other fide, Gelding th' oppofed continent as much, War. Yes, but a little charge will trench him here, And on this north-fide win this cape of land, And then he runs ftraight and even. Hot. I'll have it fo, a little charge will do it. Hot. Will not you? Glend. No, nor you shall not. Hot. Who fhall fay me nay? Glend. Why, that will I. Hot. Let me not understand you then, Speak it in Welb. Glend. I can fpeak English, lord, as well as you, Where, being young, I framed to the harp 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 fame meeter-ballad-mongers; "I'd rather hear a brazen candlestick turn'd, "Or a dry wheel grate on the axle-tree, "And that would nothing fet my teeth on edge, Nothing fo much as mincing Poetry; "Tis like the forc'd gate of a fhuffling nag. But in the way of bargain, mark ye me, I'll cavil on the ninth part of a hair. Are Are the indentures drawn? fhall we be gone? Glend. The moon fhines fair, you may away by night: (3 I'll hafte the writer) and withal, Break with your Wives of your departure hence: So much fhe doteth on her Mortimer. [Exit. II. Mort. Fie, coufin Percy, how you cross my father? Hot. I cannot chufe; fometime he angers me, "With telling of the Moldwarp and the Ant, "Of dreamer Merlin, and his prophecies; "And of a dragon, and a finless fish, "A clipt-wing Griffin, and a moulting Raven; "That were his lackeys: I cry'd, hum,—and well,— Mort. In faith, he is a worthy gentleman; In strange concealments; valiant as a Lion; 3 (Ill bafe the writer) He means the writer of the articles. Mr. Pope. 4 of the Moldwerp and the Ant,] This alludes to an old prophecy which is faid to have induced Owen Glendower to take arms against King Henry. See Hall's Chronicle, folio 20. Mr. Pope. And And wond'rous affable; as bountiful As Mines of India: fhall I tell you, coufin? Might so have tempted him as you have done, Wor. In faith, my lord, you are too wilful-blame, You must needs learn, lord, to amend this fault; [Speed! Hot. Well, I am fchool'd: good manners be your Here come our wives, and let us take our leave. Enter Glendower, with the ladies. Mort. This is the deadly fpight that angers me, My wife can speak no English, I no Welsh. Glend. My daughter weeps, fhe will not part with you, She'll be a foldier too, fhe'll to the wars. Mort. Good father, tell her, fhe and my aunt Percy Shall follow in your conduct fpeedily. [Glendower fpeaks to her in Welsh, and she anfwers him in the fame. Glend. Glend. She's defp'rate here: a peevish self-will'd harlotry, That no perfuafion can do good upon. [Lady fpeaks in Welsh. Mort. I understand thy looks; that pretty Welsh, Which thou pour'ft down from those two fwelling heavens, I am too perfect in: and, but for shame, In fuch a parly should I answer thee. [The Lady again in Welsh. I understand thy kiffes, and thou mine But I will never be a truant, love, ; 'Till I have learn'd thy language; for thy tongue Makes Welsh as fweet as ditties highly penn'd, Sung by a fair Queen in a fummer's bower, With ravishing divifion to her lute. Glend. Nay, if thou melt, then will she run mad. [The Lady Speaks again in Welsh. Mort. O, I am Ignorance itself in this. Glend. She bids you, "All on the wanton rushes lay you down, Making fuch diff'rence betwixt wake and sleep, "As is the diff'rence betwixt day and night, "The hour before the heav'nly-harness'd team "Begins his golden progrefs in the east. Mort. With all my heart I'll fit, and hear her fing: By that time will our book, I think, be drawn. 5 And on your eye lids crown the God of Sleep,] The expreffion is fine; intimating, that the God of Sleep fhould not only fit on his eye-lids, but that he should fit crown'd, that is, pleased and delighted. Glend. |