Imatges de pàgina
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Fran. O lord, Sir! I would, it had been two. P. Hen. I will give thee for it a thousand pound: ask me when thou wilt, and thou shalt have it.

Poins. [Within.] Francis!
Fran. Anon, anon.

P. Hen. Anon, Francis? No, Francis: but to-morrow, Francis; or, Francis, on Thursday; or, indeed, Francis, when thou wilt. But, Francis,

Fran. My lord?

dame Mortimer his wife. Rivo, says the drunk.
ard. Call in ribs, call in tallow.

Enter FALSTAFF, GADSHILL, Bardolph, and
PETO.
Where hast thou

Poins. Welcome, Jack.

been?

Fal. A plague of all cowards, I say, and a vengeance too! marry, and amen! Give me a cup of sack, boy.-Ere I lead this life long, I'll sew netherstocks, and mend them, and foot them too. A plague of all cowards!-Give me a cup of sack, rogue. Is there no virtue [He drinks.

extant?

P. Hen. Didst thou never see Titan kiss a dish of butter? pitiful hearted Titan, that melted at the sweet tale of the son! if thou didst, then behold that compound.

Fal. You rogue, here's lime in this sack too: There is nothing but roguery to be found in villanous man: "Yet a coward is worse than a P. Hen. Wilt thou rob this leathern-jerkin, cup of sack with lime in it; a villanous cowcrystal-button, nott-pated, agate-ring, puke-ard.-Go thy ways, old Jack; die when thou stocking, caddis-garter, smooth-tongue, Spa- wilt, if manhood, good manhood, be not forgot nish-pouch,upon the face of the earth, then am I a shotten herring. There live not three good men unhanged in England; and one of them is fat, and grows old: God help the while! a bad were a weaver; I world, I say! I would, could sing psalms or any thing: A plague of all cowards, I say still.

Fran. O lord, Sir, who do you mean?

P. Hen. Why then, your brown bastard is your only drink: for, look you, Francis, your white canvass doublet will sully: in Barbary, Sir, it cannot come to so much.

Fran. What, Sir?

Poins. [Within.] Francis!

P. Hen. Away, you rogue; Dost thou not hear them call?

[Here they both call him; the Drawer stands amazed, not knowing which way to go.

Enter VINTNer.

Vint. What! stand'st thou still, and hear'st such a calling? Look to the guests within. [Exit FRAN.] My lord, old Sir John, with half a dozen more, are at the door; Shall I let them in!

P. Hen. Let them alone awhile, and then open the door. [Exit VINTNER.] Poins!

Re-enter POINS.

Poins. Anon, anon, Sir. P. Hen. Sirrah, Falstaff and the rest of the thieves are at the door; Shall we be merry? Poins. As merry as crickets, my lad. But hark ye; What cunning match have you made with this jest of the drawer? come, what's the issue?

P. Hen. I am now of all humours, that haye show'd themselves humours, since the old days of goodman Adam, to the pupil age of this twelve o'clock at midnight. [Re-enter FRANCIS with Wine.] What's o'clock, Francis? Fran. Anon, anon, Sir.

P. Hen. That ever this fellow should have

P. Hen. How now, wool-sack? what mutter you?

Fal. A king's son! If I do not beat thee out of thy kingdom with a dagger of lath, and drive all thy subjects afore thee like a flock of wild geese, I'll never wear hair on my face more. You prince of Wales!

P. Hen. Why, you whoreson round man! what's the matter!

Fal. Are you not a coward? answer me to that; and Poins there?

Poins. 'Zounds, ye fat paunch, an ye call me coward, I'll stab thee.

Fal. I call thee coward! I'll see thee damned ere I call thee coward: but I would give a thousand pound, I could run as fast as thou canst. You are straight enough in the shoulders, you care not who sees your back: Call you that backing of your friends? A plague upon such backing! give me them that will face me.--Give me a cup of sack:-I am a rogue, if I drunk to-day.

P. Hen. O villain! thy lips are scarce wiped
since thou drunk'st last.

Fal. All's one for that. A plague of all cow-
ards, still say I.
[He drinks.

P. Hen. What's the matter?
Fal. What's the matter? there be four of us

here have ta en a thousand pound this morning.

P. Hen. Where is it, Jack? where is it? Fal. Where is it? taken from us it is: a hundred upon poor four of us.

P. Hen. What, a hundred, man?

fewer words than a parrot, and yet the son of
a woman!-His industry is-up-stairs, and
down-stairs; his eloquence, the parcel of a
Fal. I am a rogue, if I were not at half-
reckoning. I am not yet of Percy's mind, the sword with a dozen of them two hours together.
Hotspur of the north; he that kills me some I have 'scap'd by miracle. I am eight times
six or seven dozen of Scots at a breakfast, thrust through the doublet; four, through the
washes his hands, and says to his wife,-Fie hose; my buckler cut through and through;
upon this quiet life! I want work. O my sweet my sword hacked like a hand-saw, ecce signum.
Harry, says she, how many hast thou killed to-I never dealt better since I was a man;
day? Give my roun horse a drench, says he; and would not do. A plague of all cowards!-Let
answers, Some fourteen, an hour after; a trifle, them speak: if they speak more or less than
a trifle. I pr'ythee, call in Falstaff; I'll play truth, they are villains, and the sons of dark-
Percy, and that damned brawn shall play ness.

* A sweet wine

* Stockings.

all

at

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Gads. As we were sharing, some six or seven fresh men set upon us,-~

Fal. And unbound the rest, and then come in the other.

P. Hen. What, fought ye with them all? Fal. All? I know not what ye call, all; but if I fought not with fifty of them, I am a bunch of radish; if there were not two or three and fifty upon poor old Jack, then I am no twolegged creature.

Poins. Pray God, you have not murdered some of them.

Fal. Nay, that's past praying for: for I have peppered two of them: two, I am sure, I have paid; two rogues in buckram suits. I tell thee what, Hal,-if I tell thee a lie, spit in my face, call me horse. Thou knowest my old ward;-here I lay, and thus I bore my point. Four rogues in buckram let drive at me,

P. Hen. What, four? thou said'st but two,

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even now.

Fal. In buckram.

Poins. Ay. four, in buckram suits. Fal. Seven, by these hilts, or I am a villain else.

P. Hen. Pr'ythee, let him alone; we shall have more anon.

Ful. Dost thou hear me, Hal?

P. Hen. Ay, and mark thee too, Jack. Fal. Do so, for it is worth the listening to, These nine in buckram, that I told thee of,P. Hen. So, two more already. Ful. Their points being broken,Poins. Down fell their hose.

Fal. Began to give me ground: But I followed me close, came in foot and hand; and, with a thought, seven of the eleven I paid.

P. Hen. O monstrous! eleven buckram men grown out of two!

Fal. But, as the devil would have it, three misbegotten knaves, in Kendal* green, came at my back, and let drive at me ;-for it was so dark, Hal, that thou could'st not see thy hand.

P. Hen. These lies are like the father that begets them; gross as a mountain, open, palpable. Why, thou clay-brained guts; thou knotty-pated fool; thou whoreson, obscene, greasy fallow-keech,t

Fal. What, art thou mad? art thou mad? is not the truth, the truth?

P. Hen. Why, how could'st thou know these men in Kendal green, when it was so dark thou could'st not see thy hand? come tell us your reason; What sayest thou to this?

Poins. Come, your reason, Jack, your rea

son.

Fal. What, upon compulsion? No; were I at the strappado, or all the racks in the world,

* A town in Westmoreland famous for making cloth. + A round lump of fat.

I would not tell you on compulsion. Give you a reason on compulsion! if reasons were as plenty as blackberries, I would give no man a reason upon compulsion, I.

P. Hen. I'll be no longer guilty of this sin: this sanguine coward, this bed-presser, this horse-back-breaker, this huge hill of flesh;Fal. Away, you starveling, you elf-skin, you dried neat's-tongue, bull's pizzle, you stockfish,-, for breath to utter what is like thee! you tailor's yard, you sheath, you bow-case, you vile standing tuck ;

P. Hen. Well, breathe awhile, and then to it again: and when thou hast tired thyself in base comparisons, hear me speak but this. Poins. Mark, Jack.

P. Hen. We two saw you four set on four; you bound them, and were masters of their wealth.-Mark now, how plain a tale shall put you down.-Then did we two set on you four: and, with a word, out-faced you from your prize, and have it; yea, and can show it you here in the house:-and, Falstaff, you carried your guts away as nimbly, with as quick dexterity, and roared for mercy, and still ran and roared, as ever I heard a bull-calf. What a slave art thou, to hack thy sword as thou hast done; and then say, it was in fight? What trick, what device, what starting-hole, cans thou now find out to hide thee from this open and apparent shame?

Poins. Come, let's hear, Jack; What trick hast thou now?

Fal. By the Lord, I knew ye, as well as he that made ye. Why, hear ye, my masters: Was it for me to kill the heir apparent? Should I turn upon the true prince? Why, thou knowest, I am as valiant as Hercules: but beware instinct; the lion will not touch the true prince. Instinct is a great matter; I was a coward on instinct. I shall think the better of myself and thee, during my life; I, for a valiant lion, and thou, for a true prince. But, by the Lord, lads, I am glad you have the money.Hostess, clap to the doors; watch to-night, pray to-morrow.-Gallants, lads, boys, hearts of gold, All the titles of good fellowship come to you! What, shall we be merry? shall we have a play extempore?

P. Hen. Content;-and the argument shall bc, thy running away.

Fal. Ah! no more of that, Hal, an thou lovest me.

Enter HOSTESS.

Host. My lord the prince,

P. Hen. How now, my lady the hostess what say'st thou to me?

Host. Marry, my lord, there is a nobleman of the court at door, would speak with you: he says, he comes from your father.

P. Hen. Give him as much as will make him a royal man, and send him back again to my mother.

Fal. What manner of man is he?
Host. An old man.

Fal. What doth gravity out of his bed at midnight?-Shall I give him his answer? P. Hen. Pr'ythee, do, Jack.

Fal. 'Faith, and I'll send him packing.

[Exit.

P. Hen. Now, Sirs; by'r lady, you fought fair;-so did you, Peto;-so did you, Bardolph: you are lions too, you ran away upon instinct, you will not touch the true prince; no,-fie!

Bard. 'Faith, I ran when I saw others run.

P. Hen. Tell me now in earnest, How came | like, we shall have good trading that way.Falstaff's sword so hacked?

Peto. Why, he hacked it with his dagger; and said, he would swear truth out of England, but he would make you believe it was done in fight; and persuaded us to do the like.

Bard. Yea, and to tickle our noses with spear-grass, to make them bleed; and then to beslubber our garments with it, and swear it was the blood of true men. I did that I did not this seven year before, I blushed to hear his monstrous devices.

P. Hen. O villain, thou stolest a cup of sack eighteen years ago, and wert taken with the manner, and ever since thou hast blushed extempore: Thou hadst fire and sword on thy side, and yet thou ran'st away; What instinct hadst thou for it?

Bard. My lord, do you see these meteors?
Do you behold these exhalations?
P. Hen. I do.

Bard. What think you they portend?
P. Hen. Hot livers and cold purses.t
Bard. Choler, my lord, if rightly taken.
P. Hen. No, if rightly taken, halter.

Re-enter FALSTAFF.

Here comes lean Jack, here comes bare-bone. How now, my sweet creature of bombast ? How long is't ago, Jack, since thou sawest thine own knee?

Fal. My own knee? when I was about thy years, Hal, I was not an eagle's talon in the waist; I could have crept into an alderman's thumb-ring: A plague of sighing and grief! it blows a man up like a bladder. There's villanous news abroad: here was Sir John Bracy from your father; you must to the court in the morning. That same mad fellow of the north, Percy; and he of Wales, that gave Amaimons the bastinado, and made Lucifer cuckold, and swore the devil his true liegeman upon the cross of a Welsh hook,-What, a plague, call you him?

Poins. O, Glendower.

Fal. Owen, Owen; the same; and his sonin-law, Mortimer; and old Northumberland; and that sprightly Scot of Scots, Douglas, that runs o'horseback up a hill perpendicular. P. Hen. He that rides at high speed, and with his pistol kills a sparrow flying. Fal. You have hit it.

P. Hen. So did he never the sparrow. Fal. Well, that rascal hath good mettle in him; he will not run.

P. Hen. Why, what a rascal art thou then, to praise him so for running?

Fal. O'horseback, ye cuckoo! but, afoot, he will not budge a foot.

P. Hen. Yes, Jack, upon instinct. Fal. I grant ye, upon instinct. Well, he is there too, and one Mordake, and a thousand blue-caps more: Worcester is stolen away tonight; thy father's beard is turned white with the news; you may buy land now as cheap as stinking mackarel.

P. Hen. Why then, 'tis like, if there come a hot June, and this civil buffeting hold, we shall buy maidenheads as they buy hob-nails, by the hundreds.

Fal. By the mass, lad, thou sayest true; it is

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But, tell me, Hal, art thou not horribly afeard? thou being heir apparent, could the world pick thee out three such enemies again, as that fiend Douglas, that spirit Percy, and that devil Glendower? Art thou not horribly afraid? doth not thy blood thrill at it?

P. Hen. Not a whit, i'faith; I lack some of thy instinct.

Fal. Well, thou wilt be horribly chid to-morrow, when thou comest to thy father: if thou love me, practise an answer.

P. Hen. Do thou stand for my father, and examine me upon the particulars of my life.

Fal. Shall I content:-This chair shall be my state, this dagger my sceptre, and this cushion my crown.

P. Hen. Thy state is taken for a joint-stool, thy golden sceptre for a leaden dagger, and thy precious rich crown, for a pitiful bald

crown!

Fal. Well, an the fire of grace be not quite out of thee, now shalt thou be moved.-Give me a cup of sack, to make mine eyes look red, that it may be thought I have wept; for I must speak in passion, and I will do it in king Cambyses'+ vein.

P. Hen. Well, here is my leg.t

Fal. And here is my speech:-Stand aside, nobility.

Host. This is excellent sport, i'faith. Fal. Weep not, sweet queen, for trickling tears are vain.

Host. O, the father, how he holds his countenance!

Ful. For God's sake, lords, convey my trist. fuls queen,

For tears do stop the flood-gates of her eyes. Host. O rare! he doth it as like one of these harlotry players, as I ever see.

Fal. Peace, good point-pot; peace, good tickle-brain.||-Harry, I do not only marvel where thou spendest thy time, but also how thou art accompanied for though the camomile, the more it is trodden on, the faster it grows, yet youth, the more it it wasted, the sooner it wears. That thou art my son, I have partly thy mother's word, partly my own opinion; but chiefly, a villanous trick of thine eye, and a foolish hanging of thy nether lip, that doth warrant me. If then thou be son to me, here lies the point;-Why, being son to me, art thou so pointed at? Shall the blessed sun of heaven prove a micher,¶ and eat blackberries? a question not to be asked. Shall the son of England prove a thief, and take purses? a question to be asked. There is a thing, Harry, which thou hast often heard of, and it is known to many in our land by the name of pitch: this pitch, as ancient writers do report, doth defile; so doth the company thou keepest: for, Harry, now I do not speak to thee in drink, but in tears; not in pleasure, but in passion; not in words only, but in woes also:-And yet there is a virtuous man, whom I have often noted in thy company, but I know not his

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some fifty, or, by'r lady, inclining to threescore; and now I remember me, his name is Falstaff: if that man should be lewdly given, he deceiveth me; for, Harry, I see virtue in his looks. If then the tree may be known by the fruit, as the fruit by the tree, then, peremptorily I speak it, there is virtue in that Falstaff: him keep with, the rest banish. And tell me now, thou naughty varlet, tell me, where hast thou been this month?

Fal. Out, you rogue! play out the play: I have much to say in the behalf of that Falstaff.

Re-enter HOSTESS, hastily.

Host. O Jesu, my lord, my lord!— fiddlestick: What's the matter? Fal. Heigh, heigh! the devil rides upon a

Host. The sheriff and all the watch are at

the door: they are come to search the house;

Shall I let them in?

P. Hen. Dost thou speak like a king? Do thou stand for me, and I'll play my father. Fal. Dost thou hear, Hal? never call a true Fal. Depose me? if thou dost it half so gravely, so majestically, both in word and piece of gold, a counterfeit: thou art essenmatter, hang me up by the heels for a rabbet-tially mad, without seeming so. sucker, or a poulter's hare.

P. Hen. Well, here I am set.
Fal. And here I stand:-judge, my masters.
P. Hen. Now, Harry? whence come you?
Fal. My noble lord, from Eastcheap.
P. Hen. The complaints I hear of thee are
grievous.

Fal. 'Sblood, my lord, they are false:-nay,
I'll tickle ye for a young prince, i'faith.

P. Hen. And thou a natural coward, without instinct.

Fal. I deny your major: if you will deny the sheriff, so; if not, let him enter: if I become not a cart as well as another man, a plague on my bringing up! I hope, I shall as soon be strangled with a halter, as another.

P. Hen. Go, hide thee behind the arras;*the rest walk up above. Now, my masters, for a true face, and good conscience.

is

Fal. Both which I have had: but their date

out, and therefore I'll hide me.

[Exeunt all but the PRINCE and POINS. P. Hen. Call in the sheriff.

Enter SHERIFF and CARRIER. Now, master sheriff; what's your will with me?

P. Hen. Swearest thou, ungracious boy? henceforth ne'er look on me. Thou art violently carried away from grace: there is a devil haunts thee, in the likeness of a fat old man: a tun of man is thy companion. Why dost thou converse with that trunk of humours, that bolting-hutcht of beastliness, that swoln parcel of dropsies, that huge bombard; of sack, that stuffed cloak-bag of guts, that roasted Manningtrees ox with the pudding in his belly, that reverend vice, that grey iniquity, that father ruffian, that vanity in years? Wherein is he good, but to taste sack and drink it? wherein neat and cleanly, but to carve a capon and eat it? wherein cunning, but in craft? wherein crafty, but in villany? wherein vil-A lanous, but in all things? wherein worthy, but in nothing?

Fal. I would, your grace would take me with you; Whom means your grace?

P. Hen. That villanous abominable misleader of youth, Falstaff, that old whitebearded Satan.

Fal. My lord, the man I know.
P. Hen. I know, thou dost.

Fal. But to say, I know more harm in him than in myself, were to say more than I know. That he is old, (the more the pity,) his white hairs do witness it: but that he is (saving your reverence,) a whoremaster, that I utterly deny. If sack and sugar be a fault, God help the wicked! If to be old and merry be a sin, then many an old host that I know, is damned: if to be fat be to be hated, then Pharaoh's lean kine are to be loved. No, my good lord; banish Peto, banish Bardolph, banish Poins: but for sweet Jack Falstaff, kind Jack Falstaff, true Jack Falstaff, valiant Jack Falstaff, and therefore more valiant, being, as he is, old Jack Falstaff, banish not him thy Harry's company; banish plump Jack, and banish all the world. P. Hen. I do, I will. [A knocking heard. [Exeunt HOSTESS, FRANCIS, and BARD

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Sher. First, pardon me, my lord. A hue
and cry

Hath follow'd certain men unto this house.
P. Hen. What men?

Sher. One of them is well known, my gra-
cious lord,

gross fat man.

Car. As fat as butter.

P. Hen. The man, I do assure you, is not

here;

For I myself at this time have employ'd him.
And, sheriff, I will engage my word to thee,
That I will, by to-morrow dinner-time,
Send him to answer thee, or any man,
For any thing he shall be charg'd withal:
And so let me entreat you leave the house.
Sher. I will, my lord: There are two gentle-
[marks.

men

Have in this robbery lost three hundred
P. Hen. It may be so: if he have robb'd

these men,

He shall be answerable; and so, farewell.
Sher. Good night, my noble lord.

P. Hen. I think it is good morrow; Is it

not?

Sher. Indeed, my lord, I think it be two
o'clock.
[Exeunt SHERIFF and
CARRIER.

P. Hen. This oily rascal is known as well as Paul's.+ Go, call him forth.

Poins. Falstaff!-fast asleep behind the arras, and snorting like a horse.

P. Hen. Hark, how hard he fetches breath: Search his pockets. [POINS searches.] What hast thou found?

Poins. Nothing but papers, my lord.

P. Hen. Let's see what they be: read them.
Poins. Item, A capon, 2s. 2d.

Item, Sauce, 4d.

Item, Sack, two gallons, 5s. 8d.
Item, Auchovies, and sack after supper, 2s. 6d.
Item, Bread, a halfpenny.

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.

P. Hen. O monstrous! but one half pennyworth of bread to this intolerable deal of sack! -What there is else, keep close; we'll read it at more advantage: there let him sleep till day. I'll to the court in the morning: we must all to the wars, and thy place shall be honourable. I'll procure this fat rogue a charge of foot; and, I know, his death will be a march of twelvescore. The money shall be paid back again with advantage. Be with me betimes in the morning; and so good morrow, Poins. Poins. Good morrow, good my lord.

ACT III.

[Exeunt.

SCENE I.-Bangor.-A Room in the Archdeacon's House. Enter HOTSPUR, WORCESTER, MORTIMER, and GLENDOWER.

Mort. These promises are fair, the parties sure,

And our induction* full of prosperous hope.
Hot. Lord Mortimer, -and cousin Glen-
Will you sit down?
[dower,-
And, uncle Worcester:-A plague upon it!
I have forgot the map.

Glend. No, here it is.

Sit, cousin Percy; sit, good cousin Hotspur: For by that name as oft as Lancaster [with Doth speak of you, his cheek looks pale; and, A rising sigh, he wisheth you in heaven.

Hot. And you in hell, as often as he hears Owen Glendower spoke of.

Glend. I cannot blame him: at my nativity, The front of heaven was full of fiery shapes, Of burning cressets; and, at my birth, The frame and huge foundation of the earth Shak'd like a coward.

Hot. Why, so it would have done At the same season, if your mother's cat had But kitten'd, though yourself had ne'er been born.

Glend. I say, the earth did shake when I was born.

Hot. And I say, the earth was not of my mind,

If you suppose, as fearing you it shook. Glend. The heavens were all on fire, the earth did tremble.

Hot. O, then the earth shook to see the heavens on fire,

And not in fear of your nativity. Diseased nature oftentimes breaks forth In strange eruptions: oft the teeming earth Is with a kind of colic pinch'd and vex'd By the imprisoning of unruly wind Within her womb; which, for enlargement striving, [down Shakes the old beldame earth, and topplest Steeples, and moss-grown towers. At your birth, [ture, Our grandam earth, having this distemperaIn passion shook.

Glend. Cousin, of many men

I do not bear these crossings. Give me leave
To tell you once again,-that at my birth,
The front of heaven was full of fiery shapes;
The goats ran from the mountains, and the

herds

Were strangely clamorous to the frighted fields.
These signs have mark'd me extraordinary;
And all the courses of my life do show,
I am not in the roll of common men.

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Where is he living,-clipp'd in with the sea
That chides the banks of England, Scotland,
Wales,-

Which calls me pupil, or hath read to me?
And bring him out, that is but woman's son,
Can trace me in the tedious ways of art,
And hold me pace in deep experiments.
Hot. I think there is no man speaks better
I will to dinner.
[Welsh:-

Mort. Peace, cousin Percy; you will make him mad.

Glend. I can call spirits from the vasty deep. Hot. Why, so can Ï; or so can any man: But will they come, when you do call for them? Glend. Why, I can teach you, cousin, to comThe devil. Hot. And I can teach thee, coz, to shame the devil,

[mand

[vil.By telling truth; Tell truth, and shame the deIf thou have power to raise him, bring him hither,

And I'll be sworn, I have power to shame him hence. [devil. O, while you live, tell truth, and shame the Mort. Come, come,

No more of this unprofitable chat.

Glend. Three times hath Henry Bolingbroke

made head

[Wye, Against my power: thrice from the banks of And sandy-bottom'd Severn, have I sent him, Bootless home, and weather-beaten back.

Hot. Home without boots, and in foul wea

ther too!

How 'scapes he agues, in the devil's name? Glend. Come, here's the map: Shall we di

vide our right,

According to our three-fold order ta'en?
Mort. The archdeacon hath divided it
Into three limits, very equally:

England, from Trent and Severn hitherto,
All westward, Wales beyond the Severn shore,
By south and east, is to my part assign'd;
And all the fertile land within that bound,
To Owen Glendower:-and, dear coz, to you
And our indentures tripartitet are drawn:
The remnant northward, lying off from Trent.
Which being sealed interchangeably,
To-morrow, cousin Percy, you, and I,
(A business that this night may execute,)
To meet your father, and the Scottish power,
And my good lord of Worcester, will set forth,
As is appointed us, at Shrewsbury.
My father Glendower is not ready yet,
Nor shall we need his help these fourteen
days:-

Within that space, [To GLEND.] you may have
drawn together
[tlemen.
Your tenants, friends, and neighbouring gen-
Glend. A shorter time shall send me to you,

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See, how this river comes me cranking in,
In quantity equals not one of yours:
A huge half moon, a monstrous cantle out.
And cuts me, from the best of all my land,
I'll have the current in this place damm'd up;
And here the smug and silver Trent shall run,
In a new channel, fair and evenly:

* Unsuccessful. Part.

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