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The Wolds in Gloucestershire. | |
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Enter BOLINGBROKE and NORTHUMBERLAND, with Forces. | |
| Boling. How far is it, my lord, to Berkeley now? | |
| North. Believe me, noble lord, | |
| I am a stranger here in Gloucestershire: | 5 |
| These high wild hills and rough uneven ways | |
| Draw out our miles and make them wearisome; | |
| But yet your fair discourse hath been as sugar, | |
| Making the hard way sweet and delectable. | |
| But I bethink me what a weary way | 10 |
| From Ravenspurgh to Cotswold will be found | |
| In Ross and Willoughby, wanting your company, | |
| Which, I protest, hath very much beguild | |
| The tediousness and process of my travel: | |
| But theirs is sweetend with the hope to have | 15 |
| The present benefit which I possess; | |
| And hope to joy is little less in joy | |
| Than hope enjoyd: by this the weary lords | |
| Shall make their way seem short, as mine hath done | |
| By sight of what I have, your noble company. | 20 |
| Boling. Of much less value is my company | |
| Than your good words. But who comes here? | |
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Enter HENRY PERCY. | |
| North. It is my son, young Harry Percy, | |
| Sent from my brother Worcester, whencesoever. | 25 |
| Harry, how fares your uncle? | |
| H. Percy. I had thought, my lord, to have learnd his health of you. | |
| North. Why, is he not with the queen? | |
| H. Percy. No, my good lord; he hath forsook the court, | |
| Broken his staff of office, and dispersd | 30 |
| The household of the king. | |
| North. What was his reason? | |
| He was not so resolvd when last we spake together. | |
| H. Percy. Because your lordship was proclaimed traitor. | |
| But he, my lord, is gone to Ravenspurgh, | 35 |
| To offer service to the Duke of Hereford, | |
| And sent me over by Berkeley to discover | |
| What power the Duke of York had levied there; | |
| Then with direction to repair to Ravenspurgh. | |
| North. Have you forgot the Duke of Hereford, boy? | 40 |
| H. Percy. No, my good lord; for that is not forgot | |
| Which neer 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. | |
| H. Percy. My gracious lord, I tender you my service, | 45 |
| 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 sure | |
| I count myself in nothing else so happy | 50 |
| As in a soul remembering my good friends; | |
| And as my fortune ripens with thy love, | |
| It shall be still thy true loves recompense: | |
| My heart this covenant makes, my hand thus seals it. | |
| North. How far is it to Berkeley? and what stir | 55 |
| Keeps good old York there with his men of war? | |
| H. Percy. There stands the castle, by yon tuft of trees, | |
| Mannd with three hundred men, as I have heard; | |
| And in it are the Lords of York, Berkeley, and Seymour; | |
| None else of name and noble estimate. | 60 |
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Enter ROSS and WILLOUGHBY. | |
| North. Here come the Lords of Ross and Willoughby, | |
| Bloody with spurring, fiery-red with haste. | |
| Boling. Welcome, my lords. I wot your love pursues | |
| A banishd traitor; all my treasury | 65 |
| Is yet but unfelt thanks, which, more enrichd, | |
| Shall be your love and labours recompense. | |
| Ross. Your presence makes us rich, most noble lord. | |
| Willo. And far surmounts our labour to attain it. | |
| Boling. Evermore thanks, the exchequer of the poor; | 70 |
| Which, till my infant fortune comes to years, | |
| Stands for my bounty. But who comes here? | |
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Enter BERKELEY. | |
| North. It is my Lord of Berkeley, as I guess. | |
| Berk. My lord of Hereford, my message is to you. | 75 |
| Boling. My lord, my answer isto Lancaster; | |
| And I am come to seek that name in England; | |
| And I must find that title in your tongue | |
| Before I make reply to aught you say. | |
| Berk. Mistake me not, my lord; tis not my meaning | 80 |
| To raze one title of your honour out: | |
| To you, my lord, I come, what lord you will, | |
| From the most gracious regent of this land, | |
| The Duke of York, to know what pricks you on | |
| To take advantage of the absent time | 85 |
| And fright our native peace with self-born arms. | |
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Enter YORK, attended. | |
| Boling. I shall not need transport my words by you: | |
| Here comes his Grace in person. | |
| My noble uncle! [Kneels. | 90 |
| 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: | 95 |
| I am no traitors uncle: and that word grace | |
| In an ungracious mouth is but profane. | |
| Why have those banishd and forbidden legs | |
| Dard once to touch a dust of Englands ground? | |
| But then, more why? why have they dard to march | 100 |
| So many miles upon her peaceful bosom, | |
| Frighting her pale-facd villages with war | |
| And ostentation of despised arms? | |
| Comst thou because the anointed king is hence? | |
| Why, foolish boy, the king is left behind, | 105 |
| And in my loyal bosom lies his power. | |
| Were I but now the lord of such hot youth | |
| As when brave Gaunt thy father, and myself, | |
| Rescud the Black Prince, that young Mars of men, | |
| From forth the ranks of many thousand French, | 110 |
| O! then, how quickly should this arm of mine, | |
| Now prisoner to the palsy, chastise thee | |
| And minister correction to thy fault! | |
| Boling. My gracious uncle, let me know my fault: | |
| On what condition stands it and wherein? | 115 |
| York. Even in condition of the worst degree, | |
| In gross rebellion and detested treason: | |
| Thou art a banishd man, and here art come | |
| Before the expiration of thy time, | |
| In braving arms against thy sovereign. | 120 |
| Boling. As I was banishd, I was banishd 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 | 125 |
| I see old Gaunt alive: O! then, my father, | |
| Will you permit that I shall stand condemnd | |
| A wandering vagabond; my rights and royalties | |
| Pluckd from my arms perforce and given away | |
| To upstart unthrifts? Wherefore was I born? | 130 |
| If that my cousin king be King of England, | |
| It must be granted I am Duke of Lancaster. | |
| You have a son, Aumerle, my noble kinsman; | |
| Had you first died, and he been thus trod down, | |
| He should have found his uncle Gaunt a father, | 135 |
| 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 fathers goods are all distraind and sold, | |
| And these and all are all amiss employd. | 140 |
| What would you have me do? I am a subject, | |
| And challenge law: attorneys are denied me, | |
| And therefore personally I lay my claim | |
| To my inheritance of free descent. | |
| North. The noble duke hath been too much abusd. | 145 |
| Ross. 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 cousins wrongs, | |
| And labourd all I could to do him right; | 150 |
| 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 not be; | |
| And you that do abet him in this kind | |
| Cherish rebellion and are rebels all. | 155 |
| 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 neer see joy that breaks that oath! | |
| York. Well, well, I see the issue of these arms: | 160 |
| 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; | 165 |
| 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: | 170 |
| 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. | 175 |
| York. It may be I will go with you; but yet Ill pause; | |
| For I am loath to break our countrys laws. | |
| Nor friends nor foes, to me welcome you are: | |
| Things past redress are now with me past care. [Exeunt. | |
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