All weftward, Wales, beyond the Severn fhore,
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 interchangeably,
(A business, that this night may execute)
To-morrow, coufin Percy, you and I,

And my good lord of Worcester, 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 these fourteen days: Within that space, you may have drawn together Your tenants, friends, and neigbouring gentlemen. Glend. A fhorter time fhall fend me to you, lords: And in my conduct shall 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.

[here,
Hot. Methinks, my portion, north from Burton
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 shall not wind with fuch a deep indent,
To rob me of fo rich a bottom here.

Glend, Not wind? it shall, it musft; you see, it doth. Mort. But mark, he bears his course, 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.

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

Hot.

The front of heav'n was full of fiery shapes;
The goats ran from the mountains, and the herds
Were ftrangely clam'rous in the frighted fields:
These figns have mark'd me extraordinary,
And all the courfes of my life do fhew,

I am not in the roll of common men.
Where is he living, clipt in with the feat

That chides the banks of England, Wales, or Scotland,
Who calls me pupil, or hath read to me?

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

Hot. I think, there is no man fpeaks better Welsh. I'll to dinner

Mort. Peace, coufin Percy; you will make him mad. Glend. I can call Spirits from the vasty deep. Hot. Why, fo can I, or fo can any man: But, will they come when you do call for them? Glend. Why, I can teach thee to command the devil. Hot. And I can teach thee, coz, to fhame the devil, By telling truth; Tell truth and fhame the devil. If thou haft pow'r to raife 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.

[head Glend. Three times hath Henry Bolingbroke made 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? [Right, Glend. Come, here's the Map: Shall we divide According to our threefold order ta'en?

Mort. Th' Archdeacon hath divided it
Into three limits, very equally:
England, from Trent, and Severn hitherto,
By fouth and caft, is to my part allign'd:

D 2

Our

All

With telling of the Moldwarp and the Ant,
Of dreamer Merlin, and his prophecies;
And of a dragon, and a finless fish,

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. I tell you what,
He held me the last 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 horse, or as a railing wife:

Worfe than a fmoky house.. I'd rather live
With cheese and garlic, in a windmil, far;
Than feed on cates, and have them talk to me,
In any fummer-house in christendom.

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

In flrange concealments; valiant as a Lion;
And wondrous 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 dearest grace it renders you ;)
Yet oftentimes it doth prefent harsh rage,
Defect of manners, want of government,
Pride, haughtinefs, opinion, and disdain:
The leaft of which, hunting a Nobleman,

Lofeth

Lofeth men's hearts, and leaves behind a stain
Upon the beauty of all parts befides,

Beguiling them of commendation.

[fpeed!

Hot. Well, I am fchool'd: good manners be your Here come our wives, and let us take our leave.

Enter Glendower, with the ladies.

Mort. My wife can fpeak no English, I no Welsh. T

HIS is the deadly spight that angers me,

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, fhe and my aunt Percy Shall follow in your conduct speedily.

[Glendower Speaks to her in Welsh, and she anfwers 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 underftand thy looks; that pretty Welsh, Which thou pour'ft down from those two fwelling

heavens,

I am too perfect in: and, but for fhame,

In fuch a parly should I answer 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 Welsh as fweet as ditties highly penn'd,
Sung by a fair Queen in a fummer's bower,
With ravishing divifion to her late.

Glend. Nay, if thou melt, then will she run mad.
[The Lady Speaks again in Welsh.

D 4

Mort.

Mort. O, I am Ignorance itself in this.
Glend. She bids you,

All on the wanton rufhes lay you down,
And reft your gentle head upon her lap,
And she 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 progrefs 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 tho' th' musicians, that fhall play to you
Hang in the air a thousand leagues from hence;
Yet itrait 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.

E 97

Lady. Go, ye giddy goose.

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

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 Welsh.

Hot. I had rather hear, Lady,, my brach, howl in Irish.

Lady. Would't have thy head broken?

Hot. No.

Lady. Then be ftill.

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, fhe fings.

[Here the Lady fings a Welsh fong.

Come, I'll have your fong too.

Lady.