And bring him out, that is but woman's fon, om-o
Can trace me in the tedious ways of art,03 yn bul
Or hold me pace in deep experiments.
in deep experiments.

Tom
Hot. I think, there is no man fpeaks better Well,
-I'll to dinner. 19691 10U 21

Mort. Peace, coufin Percy; you will make him mad. Glend. I can call fpirits from the wafty deep. Hot. Why, fo can I, or so can any man 300052 120 But, will they come when you do call for them?

لان

Glend. Why, I can teach thee to command the devil. Het. And I can teach thee, coz, to fhame the devil, By telling truth; Tell truth, and fame the devil If thou haft pow'r to raise him, bring him hither, And I'll be fworn, I've pow'r to fhame him hence. Oh, while you live, tell truth, and fhame the devil. Mort. Come, come!

No more of this unprofitable chat.

ul

Glend. Three times hath Henry Bolingbroke made head

Against my pow'r; thrice from the banks of Wye,
And fandy-bottom'd Severn, have I fent

Him bootlefs home, and weather-beaten back.

Hot. Home, without boots, and in foul weather too! How 'fcapes he agues, in the devil's name?

Glend. Come, here's the Map: Shall we divide our
Right,
According to our threefold order ta'en Joa

Mort. Th' Archdeacon hath divided it
Into three limits, very equally:
England, from Trent, and Severn hitherto,
By fouth and eaft, is to my part affign'd;
All weftward, 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 fealed interchangeablyertaa
(A bufinefs, that this night may execute),

Το

To-morrow, coufin Percy, you and I,
And my good lord of Wor'fter, will fet forth,
To meet your father, and the Scottish Power,
As is appointed us, at Shrewsbury.

My father Glendower is not ready yet,

Nor fhall we need his help thefe fourteen days.
Within that fpace, you may have drawn together
Your tenants, friends, and neighbouring gentlemen.
[To Glendower.
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 fhed,

Upon the parting of your wives and you.

Hot. Methinks, my moiety, north from Burton here,

In quantity equals not one of yours.

See, how this river comes me crankling in,
And cuts me, from the best of all my land,
A huge half-moon, a monftrous cantle out.
I'll have the Current in this place damm'd up:
And here the fmug and filver Trent shall run.
In a new channel, fair and evenly;

It fhall not wind with fuch a deep indent,

To rob me of fo rich a bottom here.

Glend. Not wind? it fhall, it muft; you fee, it doth. Mort. But mark, he bears his courfe, and runs me up With like advantage on the other fide,

Gelding th' oppofed continent as much,

As on the other fide it takes from you. མ༤མ ༢༤

Wor. Yes, but a little charge will trench him here, And on this north fide win this cape of land, And then he runs straight and even.

Hot. I'll have it fo, a little charge will do it.
Glend. I will not have it alter'd.

Hot. Will not you?

Glend. No, nor you fhall not.

Hot. Who fhall fay me nay? Glend. Why, that will I. Hot. Let me not understand Speak it in Welsh.

you then,

Glend. I can fpeak English, lord, as well as you,
For I was train'd up in the English Court,

Where, being young, I framed to the harp
Many an English Ditty, lovely well,

*

And gave the tongue a helpful ornament ;
A virtue, that was never feen 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.
Glend. Come, you fhall have Trent turn'd.
Hot. I do not care; I'll give thrice fo much land
To any well-deferving friend;

But in the way of bargain, mark ye me,

I'll cavil on the ninth part of a hair.

Are the indentures drawn? fhall we be gone? Glend. The moon fhines fair, you may away by night;

(I'll hafte the writer) and withal,

Break with your Wives of your departure hence.
I am afraid my daughter will run mad;

So much the doteth on her Mortimer.

[Exit.

(Pll befte the writer) He means the writer of the articles.

'. POFE.

SCENE

Mort. Fie, coufin Percy, how you crofs my father
Hot. I cannot chufe. Sometime he angers me,
With telling of the Moldwarp and the Ant,
Of dreamer Merlin, and his prophecies;
And of a dragon, and a finless fifh,

A clipt wing Griffin, and a moulting Raven,
A couching Lion, and a ramping Cat,
And fuch a deal of fkimble-fkamble ftuff,
As puts me from my faith. Itell you what,
He held me the laft night at least nine hours,
In reck'ning up the feveral devils names,
That were his lackeys: I cry'd, hum,and well,
But mark'd him not a word, O, he's as tedious.
As a tir'd horfe, or as a railing wife;
Worfe than a fmoaky houfe. 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-houfe 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. Shall I tell you, coufin?
He holds your temper in a high respect,
And curbs himself, even of his natural fcope,
When you do crofs 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.

I

POPE.

profited

of the Moldwarp and See Hall's Chronicle, folio 20. the Ant,] This alludes to an old prophecy which is faid to have induced Owen Glendower to take arms against King Henry. EVOL. IV,

In firange concealments;] Skilled in wonderful fecrets.

N

Wor.

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 prefent harsh rage,
Defect of manners, want of government,
Pride, haughtiness, opinion, and disdain;
The least of which, haunting a Nobleman,
Lofeth men's hearts, and leaves behind a stain
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 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, she and my aunt Percy Shall follow in your conduct speedily.

[Glendower Speaks to her in Welsh, and she 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 Well. Mort. I understand thy looks; that pretty Welsh, Which thou pour'ft down from thofe two fwelling

heavens,

too wilful-blame,] This is a mode of fpeech with which I am not acquainted. Perhaps it might be read too wilful-blunt,

or too wilful-bent, or thus,

Indeed, my lord, you are to blame, too wilful.