These promises are fair, the parties sure,
And our induction full of prosperous hope.
These promises are credible, the parties are committed, and our agreement is full of hopeful prospects.
These promises look solid, and everyone involved seems reliable, so we're off to a great start.
promises solid everyone's on board vibe is good
Lord Mortimer and cousin Glendower,
Will you sit down? And uncle Worcester,
A plague upon it! I have forgot the map.
Lord Mortimer and cousin Glendower, will you sit down? And uncle Worcester, it's infuriating! I forgot the map.
Mortimer and Glendower, come on down. And Worcester, damn it! I completely forgot the map.
sit down y'all bruh i forgot the map
Glendower speaks in elaborate, image-rich verse — he has been educated at the English court and is proud of it. Watch for how his grandeur collides with Hotspur's blunt prose: the more Glendower builds himself up, the harder Hotspur cuts him down.
No, here it is.
Sit, cousin Percy, sit, good cousin Hotspur;
For by that name as oft as Lancaster doth speak of you
His cheek looks pale, and with a rising sigh
He wisheth you in heaven.
No, here it is. Sit, cousin Percy, sit, good cousin Hotspur; for by that name, whenever Lancaster speaks of you, his face goes pale, and with a rising sigh he wishes you were in heaven.
No, I've got it. Sit, Percy, sit, good Hotspur; whenever the King hears your name, he goes pale and sighs deeply, wishing you were anywhere but here.
got it right here the king pales when ur name drops he wishes u away
And you in hell,
As oft as he hears Owen Glendower spoke of.
And you in hell, every time he hears Owen Glendower mentioned.
And I wish the same for you whenever I hear your name.
same to u when i hear ur name
I cannot blame him. At my nativity
The front of heaven was full of fiery shapes,
Of burning cressets, and at my birth
The frame and huge foundation of the Earth
Shaked like a coward.
I cannot blame him. At my birth the sky was full of fiery shapes, of burning flames, and at my birth the entire structure and vast foundation of the Earth shook like a coward.
I can't blame him for that. When I was born, the sky was filled with fire and strange lights, and the whole Earth trembled like it was afraid.
can't blame him sky was on fire when i was born earth was shaking
Why, so it would have done
At the same season, if your mother’s cat
Had but kitten’d, though yourself had never been born.
Why, it would have done the same thing at that same time, if your mother's cat had only given birth to kittens, even if you had never been born.
Well, the same thing would have happened at that exact moment if your mother's cat had just had kittens—even if you'd never been born.
earth shook cuz cat had babies not cuz of u lol
I say the Earth did shake when I was born.
I say the Earth shook when I was born.
I'm telling you, the Earth moved when I came into the world.
earth shook. at my birth. facts.
And I say the Earth was not of my mind,
If you suppose as fearing you it shook.
And I say the Earth was not frightened, if you believe it shook because it feared your arrival.
Well, I'm saying the Earth wasn't scared— if you think it shook just because of you.
earth wasn't scared of u chill
The heavens were all on fire, the Earth did tremble.
The heavens were all on fire, the Earth shook.
The sky was burning, and the ground was quaking.
sky: 🔥 earth: 🤯
O, then th’ Earth shook to see the heavens on fire,
And not in fear of your nativity.
Diseased nature oftentimes breaks forth
In strange eruptions; oft the teeming Earth
Is with a kind of colic pinch’d and vex’d
By the imprisoning of unruly wind
Within her womb, which for enlargement striving,
Shakes the old beldam Earth, and topples down
Steeples and moss-grown towers. At your birth
Our grandam Earth, having this distemp’rature,
In passion shook.
Well, then the Earth shook to see the sky on fire, and not out of fear of your birth. Nature in bad condition often breaks out in strange eruptions; often the fertile Earth is seized with a kind of abdominal cramping and distress by the trapping of unruly air within her womb, which, struggling for release, shakes the old Earth, and knocks down steeples and moss-covered towers. At your birth, our grandmother Earth, suffering from this disorder, in its convulsions shook.
Look, the Earth shook because the sky was on fire, not because it was afraid of you. When nature gets out of balance, sometimes it erupts in weird ways. The Earth often gets painful spasms when trapped gas under the surface tries to escape, and that shaking knocks down buildings and ancient towers. When you were born, Earth had one of these episodes—that's all it was.
earth shook cuz sky was burning nature's just got cramps sometimes gas buildup under ground = earthquakes duh
Cousin, of many men
I do not bear these crossings. Give me leave
To tell you once again that at my birth
The front of heaven was full of fiery shapes,
The goats ran from the mountains, and the herds
Were strangely clamorous to the frighted fields.
These signs have mark’d me extraordinary,
And all the courses of my life do show
I am not in the roll of common men.
Where is he living, clipp’d in with the sea
That chides the banks of England, Scotland, Wales,
Which calls me pupil or hath read to me?
And bring him out that is but woman’s son
Can trace me in the tedious ways of art,
And hold me pace in deep experiments.
Cousin, I don't tolerate these arguments from many people. Let me tell you once more that at my birth the sky was full of fiery shapes, the goats ran away from the mountains, and the herds were strangely loud and agitated in the frightened fields. These signs have marked me as extraordinary, and everything in my life shows that I am not an ordinary person. Where is anyone alive, enclosed by the sea that surrounds England, Scotland, and Wales, who calls me student or has taught me? And bring forward anyone whose only parent was a woman who can match me in the difficult paths of magic and keep pace with me in profound magical experiments.
Cousin, I don't tolerate this kind of argument from just anyone. Let me tell you one more time: at my birth, the sky was ablaze with fire, goats panicked and fled the mountains, herds were going crazy, running wild through the terrified fields. These signs have always marked me as different, and my entire life proves that I'm not like other men. Where's anyone living on this island— England, Scotland, Wales— who learned magic from me or taught me anything? Find me anyone who isn't a woman who can match what I've done in the magical arts and stay with me on difficult magical journeys.
i got signs at birth goats panicked herds freaked i'm not normal bro no one taught me magic i'm the master here
I think there is no man speaks better Welsh.
I’ll to dinner.
I think no one speaks better Welsh. I'm going to dinner.
Nobody speaks Welsh better than him. Come on, let's eat.
guy speaks welsh like a champ im hungry tho
Peace, cousin Percy, you will make him mad.
Calm down, cousin Percy, you'll make him angry.
Easy, Percy—you're going to make him lose it.
percy chill u gonna set him off
I can call spirits from the vasty deep.
I can summon spirits from the vast depths of the ocean.
I can call up spirits from the deep.
i can summon spirits
Why, so can I, or so can any man,
But will they come when you do call for them?
Well, I can do that too, or any man can, but will they come when you call for them?
Yeah, I can do that too, anyone can, but the question is whether they'll actually show up.
anyone can call spirits but do they answer? proof or cap?
Why, I can teach you, cousin, to command the devil.
Why, I could instruct you, cousin, in the art of summoning and controlling infernal spirits.
Well, if you want, I could actually show you the trick to getting demons to obey you.
i know how 2 control demons can teach u if u want
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!
And I can teach you, cousin, to defeat the devil by speaking the truth; speak truth and defeat the devil. If you have the power to summon him, bring him here, and I'll swear I have the power to defeat him and send him away. Instead, while you live, speak the truth and defeat the devil!
And I can teach you how to beat the devil with the truth. Tell the truth and you win. If you really have the power to bring him up, go ahead, and I promise I can send him packing. So just tell the truth and beat the devil at his own game.
truth beats the devil if u can summon him i'll banish him stop lying bro
Come, come, no more of this unprofitable chat.
Come, let's stop this pointless conversation.
Come on, enough of this useless banter.
yo can we stop talking about this
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.
Henry Bolingbroke has attacked me three times; three times from the banks of the Wye and the shallow Severn River, I have sent him home empty-handed and battered by the weather.
Henry Bolingbroke has come after me three times; three times I've defeated him at the Wye and Severn rivers and sent him back home empty-handed and beaten down by the elements.
henry came at me 3 times i beat him 3 times sent him home soaking wet
Home without boots, and in foul weather too!
How ’scapes he agues, in the devil’s name!
Home without boots, and in terrible weather too! How does he avoid getting sick, for heaven's sake!
Without boots, and in awful weather! How does he not catch some disease out there!
no boots in bad weather how is he not dead lol
Come, here’s the map, shall we divide our right
According to our threefold order ta’en?
Come, here is the map. Should we divide our territory according to our three-way agreement we made?
Alright, here's the map. Should we split up the territory the way we planned?
map time let's divide it up like we said
The archdeacon hath divided it
Into three limits very equally:
England, from Trent and Severn hitherto,
By south and east is to my part assign’d:
All westward, Wales beyond the Severn shore,
And all the fertile land within that bound,
To Owen Glendower: and, dear coz, to you
The remnant northward lying off from Trent.
And our indentures tripartite are drawn,
Which being sealed interchangeably,
A business that this night may execute,
Tomorrow, cousin Percy, you and I,
And my good Lord of Worcester will set forth
To meet your father and the Scottish power,
As is appointed us, at Shrewsbury.
My father Glendower is not ready yet,
Nor shall we need his help these fourteen days.
The archdeacon has divided it into three portions equally: England, from the Trent to the Severn and southward, by the south and east goes to my share: all of Wales westward, beyond the Severn River, and all the fertile land within those borders, to Owen Glendower: and, dear cousin, to you the remaining part in the north, separated from the Trent. And our contracts in three parts are written, which when sealed by each of us, a matter we can complete tonight, tomorrow, cousin Percy, you and I, and my good Lord of Worcester will depart to meet your father and the Scottish forces, as has been planned, at Shrewsbury. My father Glendower is not yet ready, nor shall we need his help for fourteen more days.
The archdeacon has split it up into three equal pieces: England, from the Trent to Severn and moving south, the southern and eastern parts are mine: all of Wales to the west, beyond the Severn, and every fertile acre in that region, goes to Owen Glendower. And cousin, you get the northern section, everything beyond the Trent. We've all drawn up contracts in triplicate, and once we each seal them— which we can do tonight— tomorrow, cousin Percy, you, me, and Worcester will head out to meet your father and the Scottish army at Shrewsbury, like we planned. Glendower won't be ready yet, and honestly we won't need him for two weeks.
archdeacon split the map: me: south & east england glendower: all wales u: north england contracts tonight shrewsbury tomorrow no need glendower for 2 weeks
[_To Glendower._] Within that space you may have drawn together
Your tenants, friends, and neighbouring gentlemen.
In that time you can gather together your tenant farmers, friends, and neighboring gentlemen.
By then you'll have plenty of time to collect your farmers, friends, and all the local gentry.
gather your tenants friends & nobles
A shorter time shall send me to you, lords,
And in my conduct shall your ladies come,
From whom you now must steal, and take no leave,
For there will be a world of water shed
Upon the parting of your wives and you.
I myself will come to you soon, my lords. And your ladies will travel under my protection and guidance. But you must leave now and take your leave of them secretly, for there will be a flood of tears when you part from your wives.
I'll get to you soon, lords. Your wives will come along with me to help them. But you have to leave them right now without saying goodbye—there's going to be a lot of crying when you have to leave them.
i'm coming soon your wives will follow with me but you gotta leave now no goodbyes there'll be tears
Methinks my moiety, north from Burton here,
In quantity equals not one of yours.
See how this river comes me cranking in,
And cuts me from the best of all my land
A huge half-moon, a monstrous cantle out.
I’ll have the current in this place dammed up,
And here the smug and silver Trent shall run
In a new channel, fair and evenly.
It shall not wind with such a deep indent,
To rob me of so rich a bottom here.
I think my share in the north, starting from Burton, is not equal in size to either of yours. Look how this river curves right into my land, and cuts me off from the best of all my territory, a huge crescent shape, a monstrous slice removed. I will have water dammed up at this location, and here the smooth and silver Trent will flow in a new channel, straight and level. It will not wind around with such a deep curve, so it doesn't rob me of such rich land.
I think my northern section around Burton isn't equal to yours in size. See how this river snakes into my property, and cuts off the best part of my land, taking out a huge crescent-shaped chunk? I'm going to dam it up here, and the Trent will run in a new straight channel, smooth and clean. It won't snake around the way it does now, stealing my best territory.
my land is smaller cuz river river takes huge chunks im damming it up making it straight & fair
Not wind? It shall, it must. You see it doth.
It won't curve? It will, it must. You see it does.
Not curve? It will curve, it has to. Look, it's doing it right now.
it curves. it's literally curving rn
Yea, but mark how he bears his course, and runs me up
With like advantage on the other side,
Gelding the opposed continent as much
As on the other side it takes from you.
Yes, but notice how it also curves the same way with equal advantage on the other side, wearing away the opposite land as much as it takes from your side.
True, but look how it also winds the same way on the other side with equal effect, wearing away that land just as much as it does yours.
it goes both ways tho both sides get cut equally
Yea, but a little charge will trench him here,
And on this north side win this cape of land,
And then he runs straight and even.
Yes, but a little effort will dig a channel for it here, and on this north side win this piece of land, and then it runs straight and level.
True, but a little digging could channel it here, and on the north side we could reclaim this strip, and then it'd run straight.
little digging here straightens it out we get the land back
Hotspur's rant against 'metre ballad-mongers' is one of the funniest speeches in the play, but it's not just comedy. He says he'd rather hear a dog howling or metal grinding on an axle than listen to verse. This is character-consistent: Hotspur is a man of physical action who distrusts ornament, mediation, and representation. Poetry, for him, is a kind of lying — a prettifying of things that should be direct. The irony is acute: this play is written in poetry, and Hotspur himself speaks some of the most striking verse in it. He is a poet who hates poets, a verbal genius who claims to have no interest in words. Watch for how his speeches — even the ones denouncing language — are among the most energetically inventive in the whole play.
I’ll have it so, a little charge will do it.
That's what I want, a little work will do it.
That's exactly what I want—a little effort will fix it.
yes that's the plan small fix
I’ll not have it altered.
I won't have it altered.
I'm not letting it be changed.
not happening
Will not you?
You won't?
You're not?
u sure?
No, nor you shall not.
No, and you won't either.
No, and neither will you.
nope. u don't either
Who shall say me nay?
Who will stop me?
Who's going to stop me?
who's gonna stop me?
Why, that will I.
Why, I will.
I will.
me
Let me not understand you, then; speak it in Welsh.
I don't understand you, then; say it in Welsh.
Then I don't get what you're saying—say it in Welsh.
speak welsh if ur so tough
I can speak English, lord, as well as you,
For I was train’d up in the English Court,
Where being but young I framed to the harp
Many an English ditty lovely well,
And gave the tongue a helpful ornament—
A virtue that was never seen in you.
I can speak English as well as you, for I was raised in the English Court, where when young I learned to play the harp and composed many beautiful English songs, and gave the language a graceful accomplishment— an ability you have never shown.
I can speak English just as well as you. I was brought up in the English royal court, where I learned the harp as a boy and wrote plenty of lovely English poems, and I did it with real skill— something you clearly never bothered to learn.
i speak english great raised in the court learned harp wrote poems u got no skills
Marry, and I am glad of it with all my heart.
I had rather be a kitten, and cry “mew”
Than one of these same metre ballad-mongers;
I had rather hear a brazen canstick turn’d,
Or a dry wheel grate on the axletree,
And that would set my teeth nothing on edge,
Nothing so much as mincing poetry.
’Tis like the forced gait of a shuffling nag.
Indeed, and I'm glad of it with all my heart. I would rather be a kitten and cry "meow" than one of these poet-songwriters; I would rather hear a brass candlestick being spun, or a dry wheel scraping on the axle, and that would barely bother my teeth, nothing bothers me as much as fancy poetry. It's like the forced gait of a stumbling horse.
Well, I'm actually glad of it, really. I'd rather be a kitten mewing than one of those rhyme-writing poets. I'd rather listen to a spinning brass candlestick, or a squeaky dry wheel on an axle, and that would barely annoy me— nothing annoys me like flowery poetry. It's like watching a lame horse dragging itself along.
glad tbh id rather hear screeching metal than ur poetry poetry is so cringe
Come, you shall have Trent turn’d.
Come, you will have the Trent moved.
Fine, you'll get your river moved.
fine. river gets moved. happy?
I do not care. I’ll give thrice so much land
To any well-deserving friend;
But in the way of bargain, mark ye me,
I’ll cavil on the ninth part of a hair.
Are the indentures drawn? Shall we be gone?
I don't care. I'll give three times as much land to any friend who deserves it well; but in a negotiation, watch me closely, I'll argue over even the smallest detail. Are the contracts signed? Should we go?
I don't really care. I'd give three times that much land to anyone who actually deserved it. But when it comes to negotiating, listen to me— I'll debate every tiny detail. Are the contracts ready? Can we get going?
i don't care i'd give more land to good people but i'll fight over every detail contracts ready? let's go
The moon shines fair, you may away by night.
I’ll haste the writer, and withal
Break with your wives of your departure hence.
I am afraid my daughter will run mad,
So much she doteth on her Mortimer.
The moon is shining bright, you can leave at night. I'll hurry the scribe, and also speak to your wives about your departure. I'm worried my daughter will go crazy, she loves her Mortimer so much.
The moon's shining—you can leave after dark. I'll get the scribe to work faster, and I'll also talk to your wives about you leaving. I'm worried my daughter will lose her mind, she's so in love with Mortimer.
moon's up u can leave tonight i'll tell the wives my daughter's gonna freak
Fie, cousin Percy, how you cross my father!
For shame, cousin Percy, how you argue with my father!
Shame on you, Percy, arguing like that with my father!
percy stop arguing with dad
I cannot choose. Sometimes he angers me
With telling me of the moldwarp and the ant,
Of the dreamer Merlin and his prophecies,
And of a dragon and a finless fish,
A clip-wing’d griffin and a moulten raven,
A couching lion and a ramping cat,
And such a deal of skimble-skamble stuff
As puts me from my faith. I tell you what—
He held me last night at least nine hours
In reckoning up the several devils’ names
That were his lackeys: I cried “Hum,” and “Well, go to,”
But mark’d him not a word. O, he is as tedious
As a tired horse, a railing wife,
Worse than a smoky house. I had rather live
With cheese and garlic in a windmill, far,
Than feed on cates and have him talk to me
In any summer house in Christendom.
I can't help it. Sometimes he angers me by talking to me about moles and ants, about the wizard Merlin and his prophecies, about a dragon and a fish without fins, a griffin with clipped wings and a molten raven, a crouching lion and a jumping cat, and such a load of nonsensical stuff that it makes me doubt everything. I'm telling you what— He kept me sitting last night for at least nine hours while listing all the various devils' names that were his servants: I just said "Huh," and "Well, let's go," but I didn't pay attention to a single word. Oh, he is as tiresome as a worn-out horse, a screaming wife, worse than a smoky house. I would rather live with cheese and garlic in a windmill, way out, than be here with him talking to me in any nice garden in all of Christendom.
I can't help it. Sometimes he gets me angry going on about moles and ants, about the wizard Merlin and his prophecies, talking about dragons and fish with no fins, griffins with broken wings and burning ravens, lions lying down and cats jumping around, and all this absolute nonsense that makes me want to throw everything out. Tell you what— last night he sat me down for at least nine hours listening to him name every single devil that supposedly works for him. I just kept saying "yeah" and "okay," but I wasn't listening to a word. He's as boring as a dead horse, as bad as a screaming wife, worse than a house full of smoke. I'd honestly rather live with bread and garlic in some remote windmill than be around him and his talk in any mansion in all of England.
he talks forever about devils & prophecies i zone out completely he's so boring im dipping
In faith, he is a worthy gentleman,
Exceedingly well read, and profited
In strange concealments, valiant as a lion,
And wondrous affable, and as bountiful
As mines of India. Shall I tell you, cousin?
He holds your temper in a high respect
And curbs himself even of his natural scope
When you come cross his humour, faith, he does.
I warrant you that man is not alive
Might so have tempted him as you have done
Without the taste of danger and reproof:
But do not use it oft, let me entreat you.
Actually, he is a respectable man, extremely well-educated and skilled in secret knowledge, brave as a lion, and remarkably kind and generous, as wealthy as the richest mines. Should I tell you, cousin? He thinks very highly of your personality and controls himself even beyond his normal limits when you're acting contrary to his mood. Honestly, he does. I guarantee no man alive could have been as tested by you as he has without suffering danger and criticism. But don't make a habit of it, I'm asking you.
Actually, he's a good man, extremely educated and skilled in mysterious knowledge, brave as a lion, and incredibly generous— as rich as any mine. You want to know something, cousin? He actually respects you a lot and controls his emotions even more than he normally would when you're acting difficult. Seriously. There's probably no living man who would put up with what you put him through without fighting back or getting upset. But please don't keep doing this.
he's actually a good guy very educated rly generous he respects u please stop pushing him
In faith, my lord, you are too wilful-blame,
And since your coming hither have done enough
To put him quite besides his patience.
You must needs learn, lord, to amend this fault.
Though sometimes it show greatness, courage, blood—
And that’s the dearest grace it renders you—
Yet oftentimes it doth present harsh rage,
Defect of manners, want of government,
Pride, haughtiness, opinion, and disdain,
The least of which haunting a nobleman
Loseth men’s hearts and leaves behind a stain
Upon the beauty of all parts besides,
Beguiling them of commendation.
Actually, my lord, you are too quick to blame yourself, and since you arrived here you have done enough to completely exhaust his patience. You need to learn, my lord, to fix this fault. Even though sometimes it appears to show courage and pride— and that's the best quality it brings you— yet very often it shows harsh anger, lack of manners, poor behavior, arrogance, pride, stubbornness, and contempt, the smallest bit of which in a nobleman drives away affection and leaves behind a mark on the beauty of every other good quality, taking away their praise.
Look, my lord, you're far too stubborn, and since you got here you've done plenty to completely wear out his patience. You need to learn, my lord, to fix this problem. Yes, sometimes it looks like courage and confidence— and that is actually your best quality— but most of the time it just shows anger, bad manners, lack of self-control, arrogance, pride, and plain rudeness. Even a little bit of that in a nobleman drives people away and ruins everything else good about him, stripping away all the compliments he'd otherwise get.
u too stubborn wearing him out fix it or ur done stubborn looks tough but mostly just mean it ruins everything
Well, I am school’d. Good manners be your speed!
Here come our wives, and let us take our leave.
Well, I'm corrected. Good manners go with you! Here come our wives, let us say goodbye.
Alright, I've heard the lesson. And good luck to you! Here come our wives—let's say our goodbyes.
ok i get it wives are here let's go
This is the deadly spite that angers me,
My wife can speak no English, I no Welsh.
This is the terrible thing that upsets me, my wife cannot speak English, I cannot speak Welsh.
This is what really gets to me— my wife doesn't speak English and I don't speak Welsh.
we can't talk i don't speak welsh she don't speak english
My daughter weeps, she’ll not part with you,
She’ll be a soldier too, she’ll to the wars.
My daughter is crying, she won't leave you, she'll be a soldier too, she'll go to the wars.
My daughter's crying—she won't leave you. She wants to be a soldier too, go fight.
daughter crying won't leave u wants to fight too
Good father, tell her that she and my aunt Percy
Shall follow in your conduct speedily.
Good father, tell her that she and my aunt Percy will follow quickly under your guidance.
Father, tell her that she and Aunt Percy will follow along with you shortly.
tell her she & ur wife follow u soon
She is desperate here, a peevish self-willed harlotry,
One that no persuasion can do good upon.
She is difficult here, a stubborn, willful girl, one that no reasoning can influence.
She's being impossible here, a stubborn, headstrong girl, one you can't talk sense into.
she's being difficult won't listen to anything
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 should I answer thee.
I understand your looks, that beautiful Welsh which you pour down from your overflowing eyes— I understand it completely, and it would be inappropriate for me to answer you in that way.
I understand your looks, that lovely Welsh you're expressing through your eyes— I understand it perfectly, and it would be wrong for me to actually respond in kind.
i get what ur saying with ur eyes understand u completely but can't say it back
I understand thy kisses, and thou mine,
And that’s a feeling disputation,
But I will never be a truant, love,
Till I have learnt 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.
I understand your kisses, and you understand mine. That's a passionate exchange. But I won't abandon you, love, until I've learned your language, because your voice makes Welsh as beautiful as perfectly written songs sung by a fair queen in a summer garden, with lovely musical accompaniment on the lute.
I get what your kisses mean, and you get mine. That's real communication. But I won't leave you, love, until I've learned to speak Welsh, because your voice makes it sound as gorgeous as a queen singing exquisitely written songs in a summer garden with lute accompaniment.
i understand ur kisses u understand mine won't leave til i learn welsh ur voice is so beautiful
The scene's second half turns on an unusual theatrical choice: Lady Mortimer speaks only Welsh, which Mortimer cannot understand, and Shakespeare doesn't translate her lines for the audience either. We watch a couple say goodbye across a complete language barrier, mediated by a father who also happens to be their most powerful military ally. Lady Percy, meanwhile, can talk to Hotspur — but he won't be still long enough to make it worth anything. Both couples are communicating, and neither is quite reaching the other. The Welsh song Lady Mortimer sings is the one successful act of communication in the scene: music crosses the language gap. Keep watching to see whether this kind of silence pays a price.
Nay, if you melt, then will she run mad.
No, if you weaken, then she will go crazy.
No, if you break down, she'll lose it.
if u cry she'll freak out
O, I am ignorance itself in this!
I am completely helpless in this!
I'm completely lost here!
i have no idea what 2 do
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.
She tells you to lie down on the soft straw, and rest your gentle head on her lap, and she will sing the song that pleases you, and on your eyes she'll call down sleep, filling your blood with pleasant heaviness, making such a difference between waking and sleeping as is the difference between day and night, the hour before the sun-drawn chariot begins its golden journey in the east.
She's saying to lie down on the rushes, and rest your head on her lap, and she'll sing whatever song you want, and she'll put sleep over your eyes, making your blood feel heavy and peaceful, creating as big a difference between awake and asleep as there is between day and night— like the time right before the sun's chariot starts its golden journey across the east.
lie down head on her lap she sings u fall asleep like night vs day
With all my heart I’ll sit and hear her sing,
By that time will our book, I think, be drawn.
I will happily sit and hear her sing, by that time our document, I think, will be finished.
I'll gladly sit and listen to her sing. By then our contract should be done.
ok i'll listen contract done by then
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.
Do so, and those musicians that will play for you are hanging in the air a thousand miles away, and soon they will be here: sit and wait.
Go ahead, and those musicians who'll play for you are hanging in the air a thousand miles away, and they'll be here soon: sit and listen.
musicians in the sky miles away they'll get here soon sit tight
Come, Kate, thou art perfect in lying down.
Come, quick, quick, that I may lay my head in thy lap.
Come, Kate, you are skilled at lying down. Come, hurry up, so I can lay my head on your lap.
Come on, Kate, you're great at lying down. Hurry up so I can put my head on your lap.
kate ur good at this come on im tired
Kate Percy is the only person who can physically stop Hotspur mid-sentence. Watch for how she deflects his energy with wit rather than argument — she knows arguing with him is pointless.
Go, ye giddy goose.
Go on, you silly bird.
Go on, you goof.
ugh goof
Now I perceive the devil understands Welsh,
And ’tis no marvel he’s so humorous.
By’r Lady, he’s a good musician.
Now I understand the devil knows Welsh, and it's no wonder he's so moody. By God's mother, he's a good musician.
Now I realize the devil understands Welsh, and no wonder he's so temperamental. By God, he's actually a good musician.
devil speaks welsh no wonder he's moody he's actually good at music
Then should you be nothing but musical,
For you are altogether governed by humours.
Lie still, ye thief, and hear the lady sing in Welsh.
Then you should be nothing but musical, for you are completely governed by moods. Lie still, you thief, and listen to the lady sing in Welsh.
Then you should be nothing but musical, since you're completely controlled by your moods. Just lie there, you rascal, and listen to her sing in Welsh.
u should be musical u always in ur feelings stop moving let her sing
I had rather hear Lady, my brach, howl in Irish.
I would rather hear Lady, my hunting dog, howl in Irish.
I'd rather hear my hunting dog howling in Irish.
id rather hear my dog howl in irish
Wouldst thou have thy head broken?
Would you like your head broken?
You want me to hit you?
want me to hit u?
No.
No.
No.
nah
Then be still.
Then be quiet.
Then shut up.
then hush
Neither; ’tis a woman’s fault.
No; it's a woman's fault.
No; that's just what women do.
nah that's women stuff
Now God help thee!
Now God help you!
God help you!
god help u
To the Welsh lady’s bed.
God help me to the Welsh lady's bed.
I hope God gets me to the Welsh lady's bed.
to the welsh lady's bed get me outta here
What’s that?
What is that?
What's that?
what?
Peace, she sings.
Quiet, she is singing.
Shh, she's singing.
shh she singing
Come, Kate, I’ll have your song too.
Come on, Kate, I want to hear you sing as well.
Come on, Kate, you sing something for me too.
kate come sing for me too
Not mine, in good sooth.
Not mine, truly not.
Not mine, honestly.
not mine
Not yours, in good sooth! Heart! you swear like a comfit-maker’s wife!
“Not you, in good sooth,” and “As true as I live,” and “As God shall
mend me,” and “As sure as day”
And givest such sarcenet surety for thy oaths
As if thou never walk’dst further than Finsbury.
Swear me, Kate, like a lady as thou art,
A good mouth-filling oath, and leave “In sooth,”
And such protest of pepper-gingerbread,
To velvet-guards and Sunday citizens.
Come, sing.
Not yours, truly! Heavens! You swear like a candy maker's wife! "Not you, truly," and "As true as I live," and "As God help me," and "As sure as it is day" and you give such flimsy protection for your oaths as if you'd never walked farther than outside London. Swear like a lady, Kate, as you are, a proper oath that's strong, and abandon "Truly" and such weak protestations, to velvet-wearing servants and Sunday church people. Come, sing.
Not yours, truly! Good grief! You swear like a housewife! "Not you, truly," and "As sure as I'm alive," and "As God help me," and "As certain as day" and your oaths are as thin as silk— like you've never left the suburbs. Swear like the woman you are, Kate, a real oath with substance, and forget "Truly" and those weak little phrases, leave those to fancy servants and Sunday church people. Come on, sing.
ur oaths r weak swear like u mean it stop with the "truly" stuff just sing
I will not sing.
I absolutely refuse to sing for you.
I'm not doing it—I'm not singing.
hell nah im not singing
’Tis the next way to turn tailor, or be redbreast-teacher. An the
indentures be drawn, I’ll away within these two hours; and so come in
when ye will.
That's the next step to becoming a tailor, or teaching birds to sing. If the contracts are ready, I'm leaving within two hours; come whenever you want.
That's the path to becoming a tailor or a bird trainer. If the contracts are done, I'm leaving in two hours; show up whenever.
that's how u become a tailor im leaving in 2 hours come when u want
Come, come, Lord Mortimer, you are as slow
As hot Lord Percy is on fire to go.
By this our book is drawn. We’ll but seal,
And then to horse immediately.
Come, come, Lord Mortimer, you move slowly while hot Lord Percy is eager to go. By now our document should be finished. We'll just seal it, and then we ride immediately.
Come on, Mortimer, you're slow while Percy is all fired up to leave. Our contract should be done by now. We just need to seal it, and then we're riding out.
mortimer ur slow percy ready to go let's seal the contract and ride
With all my heart.
I wholeheartedly agree to go.
I'm ready—let's get going right now.
yeah let's do this im down
The Reckoning
The scene is two moods at once. The first half is almost farcical: Hotspur picks fights with Glendower over everything — his mystical birth, his poetry, a river's bend on a map — and Worcester has to apologize for him like a parent at a dinner party. Then the Welsh women arrive, and the scene goes quiet. Mortimer can't speak to his wife; Hotspur won't sing for his. In the gap between the map-dividing warriors and these two couples who can barely communicate, Shakespeare puts everything that war is going to cost.
If this happened today…
Three regional executives are splitting up a huge territory in a conference room. One of them keeps arguing with another about his TED talk, his personal mythology, and whether a river boundary should be moved three miles east. The HR rep whispers to the first one: please stop antagonizing him, we need him. Then both men's wives walk in to say goodbye before a deployment, and the room goes quiet in a completely different way.