The First Part of Henry the Fourth
Page: 38

The houre before the Heauenly Harneis'd Teeme
Begins his Golden Progresse in the East

Mort. With all my heart Ile sit, and heare her sing:
By that time will our Booke, I thinke, be drawne

Glend. Doe so:
And those Musitians that shall play to you,
Hang in the Ayre a thousand Leagues from thence;
And straight they shall be here: sit, and attend

Hotsp. Come Kate, thou art perfect in lying downe:
Come, quicke, quicke, that I may lay my Head in thy
Lappe

Lady. Goe, ye giddy-Goose.

The Musicke playes.

Hotsp. Now I perceiue the Deuill vnderstands Welsh,
And 'tis no maruell he is so humorous:
Byrlady hee's a good Musitian

Lady. Then would you be nothing but Musicall,
For you are altogether gouerned by humors:
Lye still ye Theefe, and heare the Lady sing in Welsh

Hotsp. I had rather heare (Lady) my Brach howle in
Irish

Lady. Would'st haue thy Head broken?
Hotsp. No

Lady. Then be still

Hotsp. Neyther, 'tis a Womans fault

Lady. Now God helpe thee

Hotsp. To the Welsh Ladies Bed

Lady. What's that?
Hotsp. Peace, shee sings.

Heere the Lady sings a Welsh Song.

Hotsp. Come, Ile haue your Song too

Lady. Not mine, in good sooth

Hotsp. Not yours, in good sooth?
You sweare like a Comfit-makers Wife:
Not you, in good sooth; and, as true as I liue;
And, as God shall mend me; and, as sure as day:
And giuest such Sarcenet suretie for thy Oathes,
As if thou neuer walk'st further then Finsbury.
Sweare me, Kate, like a Lady, as thou art,
A good mouth-filling Oath: and leaue in sooth,
And such protest of Pepper Ginger-bread,
To Veluet-Guards, and Sunday-Citizens.
Come, sing

Lady. I will not sing

Hotsp. 'Tis the next way to turne Taylor, or be Redbrest
teacher: and the Indentures be drawne, Ile away
within these two howres: and so come in, when yee
will.
Enter.

Glend. Come, come, Lord Mortimer, you are as slow,
As hot Lord Percy is on fire to goe.
By this our Booke is drawne: wee'le but seale,
And then to Horse immediately

Mort. With all my heart.

Exeunt.