The course of the river, he says, must be changed to give a juster line.
After a short and heated bandying of words both Hotspur and Glendower suddenly think better of it. Glendower offers to yield:—
‘Come, you shall have Trent turn’d’
and Hotspur magnificently waives the whole quarrel:—
‘I do not care;
I’ll give thrice so much land to any well-deserving[2] friend;
But in the way of bargain, mark you me,
I’ll cavil to the ninth part of a hair.’
This is not a sample of diplomacy—nor would diplomatic art have been in place—but it is great play-writing which the mysterious dispensations of modern theatrical management compel us to enjoy only with the mind’s ear ‘in the closet,’ as our ancestors said. I have seen Phelps in Falstaff, but ‘Henry IV.’ does not keep the stage.