Boling. Of much less value is my company,

Than your good words. But who comes here?

Enter HARRY PERCY.

North. It is my fon, young Harry Percy,

Sent from my brother Worcester, whencefoever.—
Harry, how fares your uncle ?

Percy. I had thought, my lord, to have learn'd his health of you.

North. Why, is he not with the queen?

Percy. No, my good lord; he hath forfook the court, Broken his staff of office, and difpers'd

The household of the king.

North

What was his reafon ?

He was not so resolv'd, when last we spake together.

Percy. Because your lordship was proclaimed traitor. But he, my lord, is gone to Ravenspurg, To offer service to the duke of Hereford;

And sent me o'er by Berkley, to discover

What power the duke of York had levied there
Then with direction to repair to Ravenfpurg.

North. Have you forgot the duke of Hereford, boy?
Percy. No, my good lord; for that is not forgot,
Which ne'er I did remember: to my knowledge,
I never in my life did look on him.

North. Then learn to know him now; this is the duke.
Percy. My gracious lord, I tender you my service,

Such as it is, being tender, raw, and young;

Which elder days shall ripen, and confirm
To more approved service and desert.

Boling. I thank thee, gentle Percy; and be fure,

I count myself in nothing else so happy,
As in a foul rememb'ring my good friends;
And, as my fortune ripens with thy love,
It shall be still thy true love's recompenfe :

My heart this covenant makes, my hand thus feals it.
North. How far is it to Berkley? And what stir
Keeps good old York there, with his me of war?

Percy. There ftands the cattle, by yon tuft of trees,
Mann'd with three hundred men, as I have heard :
And in it are the lords of York, Berkley, and Seymour;
None elfe of name, and noble estimate,

Enter Ross and WILLOUGHBY.

North. Here come the lords of Rofs and Willoughby, Bloody with fpurring, firy-red with hafte.

Boling. Welcome, my lords: I wot, your love pursues A banish'd traitor; all my treasury

Is yet but unfelt thanks, which, more enrich'd,
Shall be your love and labour's recompenfe.

Rofs. Your prefence makes us rich, most noble lord.
Willo. And far furmounts our labour to attain it.
Boling. Ever more thanks, the exchequer of the poor;
Which, till my infant fortune comes to years,
Stands for my bounty. But who comes here?

Enter BERKLEY,

North. It is my lord of Berkley, as I guess.
Berk. My lord of Hereford, my message is to you.
Boling. My lord, my answer is-to Lancaster ;
And I am come to seek that name in England;

And

And I must find that title in your tongue,

Before I make reply to aught you fay.

Berk. Mistake me not, my lord; 'tis not my meaning,

To raze one title of your honour out :

To you, my lord, I come, (what lord you will,)
From the most glorious regent of this land,

The duke of York; to know, what pricks you on
To take advantage of the absent time,

And fright our native peace with self-born arms.

Enter YORK, attended.

Boling. I fhall not need transport my words by you; Here comes his grace in perfon. My noble uncle!

-

[Kneels,

York. Show me thy humble heart, and not thy knee, Whofe duty is deceivable and falfe.

Boling. My gracious uncle!

York. Tut, tut!

Grace me no grace, nor uncle me no uncle :

I am no traitor's uncle; and that word-grace,
In an ungracious mouth, is but profane.
Why have those banish'd and forbidden legs

Dar'd once to touch a duft of England's ground?
But then more why;-

march

-Why haye they dar'd to

So many miles upon her peaceful bosom;

Frighting her pale-fac'd villages with war,

And oftentation of defpifed arms?

Com'st thou because the anointed king is hence?
Why, foolish boy, the king is left behind,
And in my loyal bofom lies his power.

Were I but now the lord of fuch hot youth,

As

As when brave Gaunt, thy father, and myself,
Rescued the Black Prince, that young Mars of men,
From forth the ranks of many thousand French;
O, then, how quickly should this arm of mine,
Now prisoner to the palfy, chástise thee,
And minifter correction to thy fault!

Boling. My gracious uncle, let me know my fault;
On what condition stands it, and wherein ?

York. Even in condition of the worst degree,

In grofs rebellion, and detested treason :

Thou art a banish'd man, and here art come,

Before the expiration of thy time,

In braving arms against thy fovereign.

Boling. As I was banish'd, I was banish'd Hereford;

But as I come, I come for Lancaster.

And, noble uncle, I beseech your grace,

Look on my wrongs with an indifferent eye :
You are my father, for methinks, in you
I fee old Gaunt alive; O, then, my father!
Will you permit that I shall stand condemn'd
A wand'ring vagabond; my rights and royalties
Pluck'd from my arms perforce, and given away
To upftart unthrifts? Wherefore was I born?
If that my cousin king be king of England,
It must be granted, I am duke of Lancaster.
You have a fon, Aumerle, my noble kinfinan;
Had you first died, and he been thus trod down,
He should have found his uncle Gaunt a father,
To rouse his wrongs, and chase them to the bay,
I am denied to fue my livery here,

And yet my letters-patent give me leave :
My father's goods are all distrain'd, and fold;
And thefe, and all, are all amifs employ'd.
What would you have me do? I am a fubject,

And

And challenge law: Attornies are denied me;
And therefore perfonally I lay my claim

To my inheritance of free descent.

North. The noble duke hath been too much abus'd. Rofs. It ftands your grace upon, to do him right. Willo. Base men by his endowments are made great. York. My lords of England, let me tell you this,I have had feeling of my coufin's wrongs, And labour'd all I could to do him right: But in this kind to come, in braving arms, Be his own carver, and cut out his way, To find out right with wrong,-it may And you that do abet him in this kind, Cherish rebellion, and are rebels all.

not be ;

North. The noble duke hath fworn, his coming is
But for his own and, for the right of that,
We all have strongly sworn to give him aid;
And let him ne'er see joy, that breaks that oath.
York. Well, well, I fee the iffue of these arms;
I cannot mend it, I must needs confefs,
Because my power is weak, and all ill left :
But, if I could, by Him that gave me life,
I would attach you all, and make you stoop
Unto the fovereign mercy of the king;
But, fince I cannot, be it known to you,
I do remain as neuter. So, fare you well;-
Unless you please to enter in the castle,
And there repose you for this night.

Boling. An offer, uncle, that we will accept.
But we must win your grace, to go with us
To Bristol castle; which, they say, is held
By Bushy, Bagot, and their complices,
The caterpillars of the commonwealth,
Which I have fworn to weed, and pluck away.

6

York.