She'll be a foldier too, fhe'll to the wars.

Mort. Good father, tell her, the and my aunt Percy Shall follow in your conduct speedily.

[Glendower Speaks to her in Welsh, and he anfwers him in the fame.

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

That no perfuafion can do good upon.

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

heavens,

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

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 Well as fweet as ditties highly penn'd,
Sung by a fair Queen in à fummer's bower,
With ravishing divifion to her lute.

Glend. Nay, if thou melt, then will fhe 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 she will fing the fong that pleaseth you,
And on your eye-lids crown the God of Sleep,
Charming your blood with pleasing 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 those musicians, that fhall play to you
Hang in the air a thousand leagues from hence

Yet

Yet ftrait they shall 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 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 Welb.

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, the fings.

[Here the Lady fings a Welsh song.

Come, I'll have your song too.

Lady. Not mine in good footh.

Hot. Not yours, in good footh! you fwear like 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 protest 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 feal,
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

Wales

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 displeasing 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 pleafutes, 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 pleafe your Majefty, I wish, I could Quit all offences with as clear excufe,

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 Greatness needs must hear,
By fmiling pick-thanks and base 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,

3. 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 almost 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 feldom 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 ftole all courtefie from heav'n,
And dreft my felf 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 prefence, like a robe pontifical,
Ne'er feen, but wonder'd at; and fo my State,
Seldom, but fumptuous, thewed like a feaft,
And won, by rarenefs, fuch folemnity.
The skipping King, he ambled up and down
With fhallow jefters, 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 fcorns;
And gave his countenance, against his name,
To laugh at gybing boys, and ftand the pufnj
Of every beardlefs, vain comparative:
Grew a companion to the common streets,
Enfeoff'd himself to popularity:

VOL. IV.

That

That, being daily fwallow'd by men's eyes,
They furfeited with honey, and began.

To loath the taste of fweetnefs; whereof a little
More than a little is by much too much.
So when he had occafion to be feen,
He was but, as the Cuckow is in June,
Heard, not regarded; feen, but with fuch eyes,
As, fick and blunted with community,

Afford no extraordinary gaze;

Such as is bent on fun like Majefty,

When it shines feldom in admiring eyes:

But rather drowz'd, and hung their eye-lids down,
Slept in his face, and rendred fuch afpect
As cloudy men ufe to their adverfaries,

Being with his prefence glutted, gorg'd and full.
And in that very line, Harry, ftand'st thou;
For thou haft loft thy Princely privilege
With vile participation. Not an eye,
But is a-weary of thy common fight,

Save mine, which hath defir'd to fee thee more;
Which now doth, what I would not have it do,
Make blind itself with foolish tenderness.

P. Henry. I fhall hereafter, my thrice gracious lord, Be more my self.

K. Henry. For all the world,

As thou art at this hour was Richard then,
When I from France fet foot at Ravenffurg;
And ev'n as I was then, is Percy now.
Now by my fcepter, and my foul to boot,
He hath more worthy intereft to the State,
Than thou, the fhadow of fucceffion!

For, of no Right, nor colour like to Right,
He doth fill fields with harnefs in the Realm,
Turns head against the Lion's armed jaws;
And, being no more in debt to years than thou,
Leads ancient lords and rev'rend bishops on,
To bloody battels, and to bruifing arms.
What never dying honour hath he got
Against renowned Douglas, whofe high deeds,
Whofe hot incurfions, and great name in arms,

Holds