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Boling. Of much less value is my company, Than your good words. But who comes here ?
North. It is my son, young Harry Percy,
Sent from my brother Worcester, whencesoever.
Harry, how fares
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 dispers’d The household of the king. North.
What was his reason ? He was not so resolvid, 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 ford, I tender you my service,
Such as it is, being tender, raw, and
Which elder days thall ripen, and confirm
To more approved service and desert.
Boling. I thank thee, gentle Percy; and be sure,
I count myself in nothing else so happy,
As in a soul rememb’ring my good friends ;
And, as my fortune ripens with thy love,
It shall be ftili thy true love's recompense :
My heart this covenant makes, my hand thus seals it,
North. How far is it to Berkley? And what itir
Keeps good old York there, with his me : of war?
Percy. There stands 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 else of name, and noble estimate,
Enter Ross and WILLOUGHBY.
North. Here come the lords of Ross and Willoughby, Bloody with spurring, firy-red with haste.
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 recompense.
Ross. Your presence makes us rich, most noble lord. Willo. And far surmounts 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?
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 isto Lancaster ;
And I am come to seek that name in England;
And I mult find that title in your tongue,
Before I make reply to aught you say.
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,
Boling. I shall 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, Whose duty is deceivable and false,
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 dust of England's ground?
But then more why;
-Why haye they dar'd to
So many miles upon her peaceful bosom;
Frighting her pale-fac'd villages with war,
And oftentation of despised 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 such hot youth,
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 minister 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 gross rebellion, and detested treason:
Thou art a banilh'd man, and here art come,
Before the expiration of thy time,
In braving arms against thy sovereign.
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 see 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 upstart unthrifts ? Wherefore was I born ?
If that my cousin king he king of England,
It must be granted, I am duke of Lancaster.
You have a fon, Aumerle, my noble kinsinan ;
Had you first died, and he been thus trod down,
He thou ha fou his ncle Gaunt a father,
To rouse his wrongs, and chase them to the bay,
I am denied to sue my livery here,
And yet my letters-patent give me leave :
My father's goods are all distrain'd, and fold;
And these, and all, are all amiss employ'd.
What would you have me do? I am a subject,
And challenge law : Attornies are denied me;
And therefore personally I lay my claim
inheritance of free descent,
North. The noble duke hath been too much abus'd,
Rofs. It stands 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
And labour'd all I could to do him right:
But in this kind to coine, in braving arms,
Be his own carver, and cut out his way,
To find out right with wrong,-it may not be ;
And you that do abet him in this kind,
Cherish rebellion, and are rebels all.
North. The noble duke hath sworn, 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 see the issue of these arms;
I cannot mend it, I must needs confess,
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 sovereign mercy of the king;
But, since 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 sworn to weed, and pluck away.