Henry IV, Part I William Shakespeare (best book series to read TXT) 📖

win this cape of land;
And then he runs straight and even. Hotspur I’ll have it so: a little charge will do it. Glendower I’ll not have it alter’d. Hotspur Will not you? Glendower No, nor you shall not. Hotspur Who shall say me nay? Glendower Why, that will I. Hotspur Let me not understand you, then; speak it in Welsh. Glendower

I can speak English, lord, as well as you;
For I was train’d up in the English court;
Where, being but young, I framed to the harp
Many an English ditty lovely well
And gave the tongue a helpful ornament,
A virtue that was never seen in you.

Hotspur

Marry,
And I am glad of it with all my heart:
I had rather be a kitten and cry mew
Than one of these same metre ballad-mongers;
I had rather hear a brazen canstick turn’d,
Or a dry wheel grate on the axle-tree;
And that would set my teeth nothing on edge,
Nothing so much as mincing poetry:
’Tis like the forced gait of a shuffling nag.

Glendower Come, you shall have Trent turn’d. Hotspur

I do not care: I’ll give thrice so much land
To any well-deserving friend;
But in the way of bargain, mark ye me,
I’ll cavil on the ninth part of a hair.
Are the indentures drawn? shall we be gone?

Glendower

The moon shines fair; you may away by night:
I’ll haste the writer and withal
Break with your wives of your departure hence:
I am afraid my daughter will run mad,
So much she doteth on her Mortimer. Exit.

Mortimer Fie, cousin Percy! how you cross my father! Hotspur

I cannot choose: sometime he angers me
With telling me of the mouldwarp 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 moulten 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,”
But mark’d him not a word. O, he is as tedious
As a tired horse, a railing wife;
Worse than a smoky house: I had rather live
With cheese and garlic in a windmill, far,
Than feed on cates and have him talk to me
In any summer-house in Christendom.

Mortimer

In faith, he is a worthy gentleman,
Exceedingly well read, and profited
In strange concealments, valiant as a lion
And as 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 come ’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.

Worcester

In faith, my lord, you are too wilful-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.

Hotspur

Well, I am school’d: good manners be your speed!
Here come our wives, and let us take our leave.

Re-enter Glendower with the ladies. Mortimer

This is the deadly spite that angers me;
My wife can speak no English, I no Welsh.

Glendower

My daughter weeps: she will not part with you;
She’ll be a soldier too, she’ll to the wars.

Mortimer

Good father, tell her that she and my aunt Percy
Shall follow in your conduct speedily. Glendower speaks to her in Welsh, and she answers him in the same.

Glendower She is desperate here; a peevish self-will’d harlotry, one that no persuasion can do good upon. The lady speaks in Welsh. Mortimer

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. The lady speaks 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
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.

Glendower Nay, if you melt, then will she run mad.The lady speaks again in Welsh. Mortimer O, I am ignorance itself in this! Glendower

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
And on your eyelids 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.

Mortimer

With all my heart I’ll sit and hear her sing:
By that time will our book, I think, be drawn

Glendower

Do so;
And those musicians that shall play to you
Hang in the air a thousand leagues from hence,
And straight they shall be here: sit, and attend.

Hotspur Come, Kate, thou art perfect in lying down: come, quick, quick, that I may lay my head in thy lap. Lady Percy Go, ye giddy goose.The music plays. Hotspur

Now I perceive the devil understands Welsh;
And ’tis no marvel he is so humorous.
By’r lady, he is a good musician.

Lady Percy 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. Hotspur I had rather hear Lady, my brach, howl in Irish. Lady Percy Wouldst thou have thy head broken? Hotspur No. Lady Percy Then be still. Hotspur Neither; ’tis a woman’s fault. Lady Percy Now God help thee! Hotspur To the Welsh lady’s bed. Lady Percy What’s that? Hotspur Peace! she sings. Here the lady sings a Welsh song. Hotspur Come, Kate, I’ll have your song too. Lady Percy Not mine, in good sooth. Hotspur

Not yours,