Mort. Fie, cousin Percy! how you cross my father!

Hot. I cannot choose; sometime he angers

me

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With telling me of the moldwarp3 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 moulten1 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,"

170

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 wilfulblame,9

And since your coming hither have done enough To put him quite beside his patience. [You must needs learn, lord, to amend this fault.

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1 Charge, expense, outlay. 2 Canstick, candlestick.

10 Opinion, self-conceit.

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 is desperate here; a peevish2 self-willed harlotry, one that no persuasion can do good upon.

200

[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

4

211

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

1 Be your speed, give you good fortune.
2 Peerish, silly.

3 Heavens, eyes.
4 Division, variation (in music).

SCENE II. London. The presence chamber in the palace.

Enter KING HENRY, PRINCE HENRY, PRINCE
JOHN OF LANCASTER, EARL OF WESTMORE-
LAND, SIR WALTER BLUNT, with other
Gentlemen, Guards, and Attendants: the
King sits.

King. Lords, give us leave; the Prince of
Wales and I

Must have some private conference: but be near at hand,

For we shall presently have need of you.

[Exeunt all but the King and Prince Henry. I know not whether God will have it so, For some displeasing service I have done, That, in his secret doom, out of my blood He'll breed revengement and a scourge for me; But thou dost in thy passages of life Make me believe that thou art only mark'd For the hot vengeance and the rod of heaven To punish my mistreadings. Tell me else, 11 Could such inordinate and low desires, [Such poor, such bare, such lewd, such mean attempts,7

I may, for some things true, wherein my youth
Hath faulty wander'd and irregular,
Find pardon on my true submission.

King. God pardon thee! yet let me wonder,
Harry,

At thy affections, which do hold a wing 39
Quite from the flight of all thy ancestors.
Thy place in council thou hast rudely lost,
Which by thy younger brother is supplied,
And art almost an alien to the hearts
Of all the court and princes of my blood.
The hope and expectation of thy time
Is ruin'd, and the soul of every man
Prophetically do forethink thy fall.
Had I so lavish of my presence been,
So common-hackney'd in the eyes of
So stale and cheap to vulgar company,
Opinion," that did help me to the crown,
Had still kept loyal to possession 12
And left me in reputeless banishment,
A fellow of no mark nor likelihood.
[By being seldom seen, I could not stir
But like a comet I was wonder'd at;
That men would tell their children "This is
he;"

men, 40

Others would say "Where, which is Bolingbroke?"

And then I stole all courtesy from heaven, 50
And dress'd myself in such humility
That I did pluck13 allegiance from men's hearts,

8 Quit, acquit myself of. 9 Doubtless, sure. 10 Pick-thanks, parasites.

11 Opinion, reputation, public opinion.

12 Possession, the possessor of the crown. 13 Pluck, gain, win.

100

As thou art to this hour was Richard then
When I from France set foot at Ravenspurg,
And even as I was then is Percy now.
[Now, by my sceptre and my soul to boot,
He hath more worthy interest to1 the state
Than thou the shadow of succession;
For of no right, nor colour like to right,
He doth fill fields with harness 2 in the realm,
Turns head against the lion's armed jaws,
And, being no more in debt to years than thou,
Leads ancient lords and reverend bishops on
To bloody battles and to bruising arms.]
What never-dying honour hath he got
Against renowned Douglas! [whose high deeds,
Whose hot incursions and great name in arms,
Holds from all soldiers chief majority
And military title capital

110

142

behalf;

130

And that shall be the day, whene'er it lights,
That this same child of honour and renown,
This gallant Hotspur, this all-praised knight,
And your unthought-of Harry chance to meet.
For every honour sitting on his helm,
Would they were multitudes, and on my head
My shames redoubled! for the time will come,;
That I shall make this northern youth exchange
His glorious deeds for my indignities.]
Percy is but my factor, good my lord,
To engross up 10 glorious deeds on my
And I will call him to so strict account,
That he shall render every glory up,
Yea, even the slightest worship11 of his time,
Or I will tear the reckoning from his heart.
This, in the name of God, I promise here;
[He knerls,
The which if he be pleas'd I shall perform,
I do beseech your majesty may salve
The long-grown wounds of my intemperance:
If not, the end of life cancels all bands;12
And I will die a hundred thousand deaths
Ere break the smallest parcel of this vow.
King. A hundred thousand rebels die in this!
[Goes to the Prince, and raising him from
his knees, embraces him.
Thou shalt have charge and sovereign trust
herein.

151