To line his enterprise: But if you go

Hotspur. So far afoot, I shall be weary, love.
Lady. Come, come, you paraquito, answer me
Directly to this question that I ask.

In faith, I'll break thy little finger, Harry,
An if thou wilt not tell me all things true.

Hotspur. Away,

Away, you trifler !-Love?—I love thee not,
I care not for thee, Kate: this is no world,
To play with mammets, and to tilt with lips:
We must have bloody noses, and crack'd crowns,
And pass them current too.-Gods me, my horse !—
What say'st thou, Kate? what wouldst thou have with me?
Lady. Do you not love me? do you not indeed?
Well, do not then; for since you love me not,
I will not love myself. Do you not love me?
Nay, tell me, if you speak in jest, or no.

Hotspur. Come, wilt thou see me ride?
And when I am o' horse-back, I will swear
I love thee infinitely. But hark you, Kate;
I must not have you henceforth question me
Whither I go, nor reason whereabout:
Whither I must, I must; and, to conclude,
This evening must I leave you, gentle Kate.
I know you wise; but yet no further wise,
Than Harry Percy's wife: constant you are
But yet a woman: and for secrecy,

No lady closer; for I well believe,

Thou wilt not utter what thou dost not know ;

And so far will I trust thee, gentle Kate!

Lady. How! so far?

Hotspur. Not an inch further.

But hark you, Kate?

Whither I go, thither shall you go too;

To-day will I set forth, to-morrow you.—
Will this content you, Kate?

Lady.

It must, of force.

[Exeunt.

ACT III. SCENE I.

Mortimer. I understand thy looks: that pretty Welsh Which thou pourest down from these swelling heavens, I am too perfect in; and, but for shame,

In such a parley would I answer thee. [Lady M. speaks. 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.

[Lady M. speaks again.

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 P. Go, ye giddy goose.

PRAY thee, loving wife, and gentle daughter,
Give even way unto my rough affairs;
Put not you on the visage of the times,

And be, like them, to Percy troublesome.
Lady N. I have given over, I will speak no more :
Do what you will; your wisdom be your guide.
Northumberland. Alas, sweet wife, my honour is at

pawn;

And, but my going, nothing can redeem it.

Lady Percy. O, yet, for God's sake, go not to these wars! The time was, father, that you broke your word,

When you were more endear'd to it than now;

When your own Percy, when my heart's dear Harry,
Threw many a northward look, to see his father
Bring up his powers: but he did long in vain.

Who then persuaded you to stay at home?

There were two honours lost; yours, and your son's.
For yours, may heavenly glory brighten it!

For his, it stuck upon him, as the sun

In the grey vault of heaven: and, by his light,
Did all the chivalry of England move

To do brave acts; he was, indeed, the glass
Wherein the noble youth did dress themselves.
He had no legs, that practis'd not his gait :

And speaking thick, which nature made his blemish,
Became the accents of the valiant ;

For those that could speak low, and tardily,
Would turn their own perfection to abuse,

To seem like him: So that, in speech, in gait,

In diet, in affections of delight,

In military rules, humours of blood,

He was the mark and glass, copy and book,

That fashion❜d others. And him,—O wondrous him!

O miracle of men !-him did you leave

(Second to none, unseconded by you), To look upon the hideous god of war

In disadvantage; to abide a field,

Where nothing but the sound of Hotspur's name
Did seem defensible :—so you left him :
Never, O never, do his ghost the wrong,
To hold your honour more precise and nice
With others, than with him; let them alone;
The marshal, and the archbishop, are strong:
Had my sweet Harry had but half their numbers,
To-day might I, hanging on Hotspur's neck,
Have talk'd of Monmouth's grave.

Lady Northumberland. O, fly to Scotland, Till that the nobles, and the armed commons,

Have of their puissance made a little taste.

Lady Percy. If they get ground and vantage of the king,