This service is brought to you today by:
silicone molding /
blast noise /
rubber caps /
dynamat /
cargo tie downs /
grille speakers /
plastic product /
blasting accessories /
Ford Truck Fan / Public Safety Equipment
The First Part of Henry the Fourth Page: 37
To put him quite besides his patience.
You must needes learne, Lord, to amend this fault:
Though sometimes it shew Greatnesse, Courage, Blood,
And that's the dearest grace it renders you;
Yet oftentimes it doth present harsh Rage,
Defect of Manners, want of Gouernment,
Pride, Haughtinesse, Opinion, and Disdaine:
The least of which, haunting a Nobleman,
Loseth mens hearts, and leaues behinde a stayne
Vpon the beautie of all parts besides,
Beguiling them of commendation
Hotsp. Well, I am school'd:
Good-manners be your speede;
Heere come your Wiues, and let vs take our leaue.
Enter Glendower, with the Ladies.
Mort. This is the deadly spight, that angers me,
My Wife can speake no English, I no Welsh
Glend. My Daughter weepes, shee'le not part with you,
Shee'le be a Souldier too, shee'le to the Warres
Mort. Good Father tell her, that she and my Aunt Percy
Shall follow in your Conduct speedily.
Glendower speakes to her in Welsh, and she answeres him in the
same.
Glend. Shee is desperate heere:
A peeuish selfe-will'd Harlotry,
One that no perswasion can doe good vpon.
The Lady speakes in Welsh.
Mort. I vnderstand thy Lookes: that pretty Welsh
Which thou powr'st down from these swelling Heauens,
I am too perfect in: and but for shame,
In such a parley should I answere thee.
The Lady againe in welsh.
Mort. I vnderstand thy Kisses, and thou mine,
And that's a feeling disputation:
But I will neuer be a Truant, Loue,
Till I haue learn'd thy Language: for thy tongue
Makes Welsh as sweet as Ditties highly penn'd,
Sung by a faire Queene in a Summers Bowre,
With rauishing Diuision to her Lute
Glend. Nay, if thou melt, then will she runne madde.
The Lady speakes againe in Welsh.
Mort. O, I am Ignorance it selfe in this
Glend. She bids you,
On the wanton Rushes lay you downe,
And rest your gentle Head vpon her Lappe,
And she will sing the Song that pleaseth you,
And on your Eye-lids Crowne the God of Sleepe,
Charming your blood with pleasing heauinesse;
Making such difference betwixt Wake and Sleepe,
As is the difference betwixt Day and Night,
|