« PreviousContinue »
Than feed on cates, and have him talk to me,
Mort. In faith, he is a worthy gentleman;
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. Hot. Well, I am school'd; good manners be your
speed ! Here come our wives, and let us take our leave,
opinion,] means here self-epinion, 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
She'll be a soldier too, she'll to the wars.
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-willid
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,
[Lady M. speaks.
[Lady M. speaks again. Mort. O, I am ignorance itself in this.
4 a feeling disputation : ] i. e, à contest of sensibility, a reciprocation in which we engage on equal terms.
s 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
Glend. Do so;
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,
Hot. I had rather hear Lady, my brach howl in Irish.
Lady P. Would'st thou have thy head broken?
A Welsh SONG sung by Lady M. Hot. 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 you, in good sooth; and, As true as I live; and, As God shall mend me; and, As sure as day : And giv'st such sarcenet surety for thy oaths, As if thou never 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
• As if thou never walk'dst further than Finsbury.] Open walks and fields near Chiswell-street, London-wall, by Moorgate; the common resort of the citizens, as appears from many of our ancient comedies.
velvet-guards,] To such as have their clothes adorned with shreds of velvet, which was, I suppose, the finery of cock, neys. Johnson,
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.
London. A Room in the Palace.
Enter King HENRY, Prince of Wales, and Lords. K. Hen. Lords, give us leave; the Prince of Wales
and I, Must have some conference: But be near at hand, For we shall presently have need of you.
our book's drawn ;] i. e. our articles. Every composition, whether play, ballad, or history, was called a book, on the registers of ancient publications.