But mark'd him not a word. O, he's as tedious
As a tir'd horfe, or as a railing wife :

Worse than a smoaky house. I'd rather live
With cheese and garlick, in a windmil, far;
Than feed on cates, and have him talk to me,
In any fummer-house in chriftendom.

Mort. In faith, he is a worthy gentleman;
Exceedingly well read, and profited

In ftrange concealments; valiant as a Lion;
And wond'rous affable; as bountiful

As Mines of India: fhall I tell you, coufin?
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 fo have. tempted him as you have done,
Without the taste of danger and reproof.
But do not use it oft, let me intreat you.

Wor. In faith, my lord, you are too wilful-blame,
And, fince your coming here, have done enough
To put him quite befides his patience:

You must needs learn, lord, to amend this fault;
Though fometimes it fhews greatnefs, courage, blood,
(And that's the deareft grace it renders you;)
Yet oftentimes it doth present harsh rage,
Defect of manners, want of government,
Pride, haughtinefs, opinion, and disdain:
The leaft of which, haunting a Nobleman,
Lofeth men's hearts, and leaves behind a ftain
Upon the beauty of all parts befides,

Beguiling them of commendation.

Hot. Well, I am fchool'd: good manners be your speed!

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 fpeak no English, I no Welsh.

Glend. My daughter weeps, fhe will not part with

you,

She'll

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 Speaks to her in Welfh, and he an-
fwers him in the fame.

Glend. She's defp'rate here: a peevish felf-will'd harlotry,

That no perfuafion can do good upon.

[Lady Speaks in Welsh. Mort. I understand thy looks; that pretty Welsh, Which thou pow'r'ft down from thofe two fwelling

heavens,

I am too perfect in and, but for shame,

In fuch a parly fhould I anfwer thee.

[The Lady again in Welsh.

I understand thy kiffes, and thou mine;
And that's a feeling difputation:

But I will never be a truant, love,

'Till I have learn'd thy language; for thy tongue Makes Welf 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,
And reft your gentle head upon her lap,
And fhe will fing the fong that pleafeth you,
And on your eye-lids crown the God of Sleep,
Charming your blood with pleafing heaviness;
Making fuch diff'rence betwixt wake and fleep,
As is the diff'rence betwixt day and night,
The hour before the heav'nly-harness'd team
Begins his golden progress 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.
Glend. Do fo;

And thofe muficians, that fhall play to you
Hang in the air a thousand leagues from hence;

Yet

Yet ftrait they fhall be here; fit, and attend.

Hot. Come, Kate, thou art perfect in lying down: come, quick, quick, that I may lay my head in thy lap.

Lad Go, ye giddy goofe.

[The mufick plays. Hot. Now I perceive the devil understands Welsh, and 'tis no marvel, he is fo humourous: by'r lady, he's a good mufician.

Lady. Then would you be nothing but mufical, for you are altogether govern'd by humours: lie ftill, ye thief, and hear the lady fing in Welb..

Hot. I had rather hear Lady, my brach, howl in Irish. Lady. Would't have thy head broken?

Hot. No.

Lady. Then be still.

Hot. Neither, 'tis a woman's fault.

Lady. Now God help thee!

Hot. To the Welsh lady's bed.

Lady. What's that?

Hot. Peace, the fings.

Here the Lady fings a Welsh song.

Come, I'll have your fong too.

Lady. Not mine in good footh.

Hot. Not yours, in good footh! you fwear like a comfit-maker's wife; not you, in good footh; and, as true as I live; and, as God fhall mend me; and, as fure as day and giveft fuch farcenet furety for thy oaths, as if thou never walk'd'ft further than Finsbury. Swear me, Kate, like a lady, as thou art,

A good mouth-filling oath, and leave infooth,
And fuch proteft of pepper-ginger-bread,
To velvet-guards, and Sunday-citizens.
Come, fing.

Lady. I will not fing.

Hot. 'Tis the next way to turn tailor, or be RobinRed-breaft teacher: if 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 flow, As hot lord Percy is on fire to go.

By

By this our book is drawn: we will but seal, and then to horfe immediately.

Mort. With all my heart.

[Exeunt.

SCENE changes to the Prefence-chamber in Windfor.

Enter King Henry, Prince of Wales, Lords and others.

K. Henry. LORDS, give us leave; the Prince of

I

Must have some private conference: but be near,
For we fhall presently have need of you.

[Exeunt Lords.

I know not, whether God will have it fo,
For fome difpleafing service I have done;
That, in his fecret doom, out of my blood
He breeds revengement and a fcourge for me:
But thou doft in thy paffages of life
Make me believe, that thou art only mark'd
For the hot vengeance and the rod of heav'n,
To punish my mif-treadings. Tell me elfe,
Could fuch inordinate and low defires,

Such poor, fuch bafe, fuch lewd, fuch mean attempts,
Such barren pleasures, rude fociety,

As thou art match'd withal and grafted to,

Accompany the greatness of thy blood,

And hold their level with thy princely heart?
P. Henry. So please your Majefty, I wish, I could
Quit all offences with as clear excuse,

As well, as, I am doubtless, I can purge
My felf of many I am charg'd withal.
Yet fuch extenuation let me beg,
As, in reproof of many tales devis'd,

Which oft the ear of Greatnefs needs must hear,
By fmiling pick-thanks and bafe news-mongers;
I may for fome things true (wherein my youth
Hath faulty wander'd, and irregular)

Find pardon on my true fubmiffion.

K. Henry. Heav'n pardon thee: yet let me wonder, Harry,

At

At thy affections, which do hold a wing
Quite from the flight of all thy Ancestors.
Thy place in council thou haft rudely loft,
Which by thy younger brother is fupply'd ;
And art almoft 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 foul of every man
Prophetically does fore-think thy Fall.
Had I fo lavish of my prefence been,
So common-hackney'd in the eyes of men,
So ftale and cheap to vulgar company;
Opinion, that did help me to the crown,
Had ftill kept loyal to poffeffion;
And left me in reputelefs banishment,
A fellow of no mark, nor likelihood.
But being seldom feen, I could not ftir,
But, like a comet, I was wonder'd at!
That men would tell their children, this is he.
Others would fay, where? which is Bolingbroke?
And then I stole all courtefie from heav'n,
And dreft my self in much humility,

That I did pluck allegiance from men's hearts,
Loud fhouts and falutations from their mouths,
Even in the presence of the crowned King.
Thus I did keep my perfon fresh and new,
My presence, like a robe pontifical,

Ne'er feen, but wonder'd at; and fo my State,
Seldom, but fumptuous, fhewed like a feast,
And won, by rarenefs, fuch folemnity.
The skipping King, he ambled up and down.
With fhallow jesters, and rash bavin wits,
Soon kindled, and foon burnt; carded his State;
Mingled his Royalty with carping fools;
Had his great name profaned with their scorns ;
And gave his countenance, against his name,
To laugh at gybing boys, and ftand the pufh
Of every beardlefs, vain comparative:
Grew a companion to the common streets,
Enfeoff'd himself to popularity:

VOL. IV.

G

That,