HOTSPUR.
I think there is no man speaks better Welsh.
I’ll to dinner.
MORTIMER.
Peace, cousin Percy, you will make him mad.
GLENDOWER.
I can call spirits from the vasty deep.
HOTSPUR.
Why, so can I, or so can any man,
But will they come when you do call for them?
GLENDOWER.
Why, I can teach you, cousin, to command the devil.
HOTSPUR.
And I can teach thee, coz, to shame the devil
By telling truth; tell truth, and shame the devil.
If thou have power to raise him, bring him hither,
And I’ll be sworn I have power to shame him hence.
O, while you live, tell truth, and shame the devil!
MORTIMER.
Come, come, no more of this unprofitable chat.
GLENDOWER.
Three times hath Henry Bolingbroke made head
Against my power; thrice from the banks of Wye
And sandy-bottom’d Severn have I sent him
Bootless home and weather-beaten back.
HOTSPUR.
Home without boots, and in foul weather too!
How ’scapes he agues, in the devil’s name!
GLENDOWER.
Come, here’s the map, shall we divide our right
According to our threefold order ta’en?