_Glendower brings in the ladies._ **M...

Glendower brings in 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-wind 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 learned 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, 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 givest such sarcenet surety for thy oaths,

As if thou never walk'st 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 PERCY

I will not sing.

HOTSPUR

'Tis the next way to turn tailor, or be red-breast

teacher. An the indentures be drawn, I'll away

within these two hours; and so, come in when ye will.

Exit GLENDOWER

Come, come, Lord Mortimer; you are as slow

As hot Lord Percy is on fire to go.

By this our book is drawn; we'll but seal,

And then to horse immediately.

MORTIMER

With all my heart.

William Shakespeare, Henry IV, Part One. http://shakespeare.mit.edu/1henryiv/1henryiv.3.1.html