These high, wild hills, and rough, uneven ways,
Draw out our miles, and make them wearisome;
And yet your fair discourse hath been as sugar,
Making the hard way sweet and délectable.
But, I bethink me, what a weary way
From Ravenspurg to Cotswold, will be found
In Ross and Willoughby, wanting your company;
Which, I protest, hath very much beguiled
The tediousness and process of my travel;
But theirs is sweetened with the hope to have
The present benefit which I possess ;
And hope to joy,' is little less in joy,

Than hope enjoyed. By this the weary lords
Shall make their way seem short; as mine hath done
By sight of what I have, your noble company.

Boling. Of much less value is my company,
Than your good words. But who comes here?

Enter HARRY PERCY.

North. It is my son, young Harry Percy,
Sent from my brother Worcester, whencesoever.-
Harry, how fares your uncle?

Percy. I had thought, my lord, to have learned his health of you.

North. Why, is he not with the queen?

Percy. No, my good lord; he hath forsook the court, Broken his staff of office, and dispersed

The household of the king.

North.

What was his reason?

He was not so resolved, 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 Ravenspurg.

1 To joy is here used as a verb; it is equivalent with to rejoice. "To joy, to clap hands, to rejoyce."-Baret.

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 sure, I count myself in nothing else so happy, As in a soul remembering my good friends; And, as my fortune ripens with thy love,

It shall be still thy true love's recompense.

My heart this covenant makes; my hand thus seals it. North. How far is it to Berkley? And what stir Keeps good old York there, with his men of war? Percy. There stands the castle, by yon tuft of trees, Manned 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, fiery-red with haste.
Boling. Welcome, my lords. I wot your love

sues

A banished traitor; all my treasury

Is

yet but unfelt thanks, which, more enriched, Shall be your love and labor's recompense.

pur

Ross. Your presence makes us rich, most noble lord. Willo. And far surmounts our labor to attain it.

Boling. Evermore thanks, the exchequer of the poor;

Which, till my infant fortune comes to years,
Stands for my bounty. But who comes here?

Enter BERKley.

1

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 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,

To raze one title of your honor 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,2

And fright our native peace with self-born arms.

Enter YORK, attended.

Boling. I shall not need transport my words by

you;

Here comes his grace in person. 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.3

I am no traitor's uncle; and that word—grace,

In an ungracious mouth, is but profane.

Why have those banished and forbidden legs

Dared once to touch a dust of England's ground?

3

But then more why: why have they dared to march
So many miles upon her peaceful bosom;
Frighting her pale-faced villages with war,

1 "Your message, you say, is to my lord of Hereford. My answer is, It is not to him; it is to the duke of Lancaster."

2 Time of the king's absence.

3 In Romeo and Juliet we have the same kind of phraseology :

"Thank me no thankings, nor proud me no prouds."

And ostentation of despised1 arms?

Com'st thou because the anointed king is hence?
Why, foolish boy, the king is left behind,
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,
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 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 ?

York. Even in condition of the worst degree,—

In gross rebellion, and detested treason.

Thou art a banished man, and here art come,

Before the expiration of thy time,

In braving arms against thy sovereign.

Boling. As I was banished, I was banished 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 condemned
A wandering vagabond; my rights and royalties
Plucked from my arms perforce, and given away
To upstart unthrifts? Wherefore was I born?
If that my cousin king be king of England,
It must be granted, I am duke of Lancaster.

1 Perhaps Shakspeare here uses despised for hated or hateful arms. Sir Thomas Hanmer changed it to despiteful; but the old copies all agree in reading despised. Shakspeare uses the word again in a singular sense in Othello, Act i. Sc. 1, where Brabantio exclaims upon the loss of his daughter:

It has been suggested that "despised is used to denote the general contempt in which the British held the French forces. The duke of Bretagne furnished Bolingbroke with three thousand French soldiers."

2 Indifferent is impartial. The instances of this use of the word among the Poet's contemporaries are very numerous.

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,
To rouse his wrongs,1 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 distrained, and sold;
And these, and all, are all amiss employed.
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.

2

North. The noble duke hath been too much abused.
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 cousin's wrongs,
And labored 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 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;—

1 Wrongs is probably here used for wrongers.

2 Steevens explains the phrase, “It stands your grace_upon," to mean, "it is your interest; it is matter of consequence to you." But hear Baret-"The heyre is bound; the heyre ought, or it is the heyre's part to defend it standeth him upon; or is in his charge. Incumbit defensio mortis hæredi.” The phrase is therefore equivalent to it is incumbent upon your grace.