|ACT II SCENE III
|Wilds in Gloucestershire.
|[Enter HENRY BOLINGBROKE and NORTHUMBERLAND, with Forces]
|How far is it, my lord, to Berkeley now?
|Believe me, noble lord,
|I am a stranger here in Gloucestershire:
|These high wild hills and rough uneven ways
|Draws out our miles, and makes them wearisome,
|And yet your fair discourse hath been as sugar,
|Making the hard way sweet and delectable.
|But I bethink me what a weary way
|From Ravenspurgh 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 enjoy'd: by this the weary lords
|Shall make their way seem short, as mine hath done
|By sight of what I have, your noble company.
|Of much less value is my company
|Than your good words. But who comes here?
|[Enter HENRY PERCY]
|It is my son, young Harry Percy,
|Sent from my brother Worcester, whencesoever.
|Harry, how fares your uncle?
|I had thought, my lord, to have learn'd his health of you.
|Why, is he not with the queen?
|No, my good Lord; he hath forsook the court,
|Broken his staff of office and dispersed
|The household of the king.
|What was his reason?
|He was not so resolved when last we spake together.
|Because your lordship was proclaimed traitor.
|But he, my lord, is gone to Ravenspurgh,
|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 directions to repair to Ravenspurgh.
|Have you forgot the Duke of Hereford, boy?
|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.
|Then learn to know him now; this is the duke.
|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.
|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.
|How far is it to Berkeley? and what stir
|Keeps good old York there with his men of war?
|There stands the castle, by yon tuft of trees,
|Mann'd 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.
|[Enter LORD ROSS and LORD WILLOUGHBY]
|Here come the Lords of Ross and Willoughby,
|Bloody with spurring, fiery-red with haste.
|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.
|Your presence makes us rich, most noble lord.
|And far surmounts our labour to attain it.
|Evermore thanks, the exchequer of the poor;
|Which, till my infant fortune comes to years,
|Stands for my bounty. But who comes here?
|[Enter LORD BERKELEY]
|It is my Lord of Berkeley, as I guess.
|My Lord of Hereford, my message is to you.
|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.
|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 gracious 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 DUKE OF YORK attended]
|I shall not need transport my words by you;
|Here comes his grace in person. My noble uncle!
|DUKE OF YORK
|Show me thy humble heart, and not thy knee,
|Whose duty is deceiveable and false.
|My gracious uncle--
|DUKE OF YORK
|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
|Dared once to touch a dust of England's ground?
|But then more 'why?' why have they dared to march
|So many miles upon her peaceful bosom,
|Frighting her pale-faced villages with war
|And ostentation of despised arms?
|Comest 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!
|My gracious uncle, let me know my fault:
|On what condition stands it and wherein?
|DUKE OF YORK
|Even in condition of the worst degree,
|In gross 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 sovereign.
|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 wandering 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 be King of England,
|It must be granted I am Duke of Lancaster.
|You have a son, Aumerle, my noble cousin;
|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 sue my livery here,
|And yet my letters-patents give me leave:
|My father's goods are all distrain'd and sold,
|And these and all are all amiss employ'd.
|What would you have me do? I am a subject,
|And I challenge law: attorneys are denied me;
|And therefore, personally I lay my claim
|To my inheritance of free descent.
|The noble duke hath been too much abused.
|It stands your grace upon to do him right.
|Base men by his endowments are made great.
|DUKE OF YORK
|My lords of England, let me tell you this:
|I have had feeling of my cousin's wrongs
|And laboured 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.
|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!
|DUKE OF 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.
|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.
|DUKE OF YORK
|It may be I will go with you: but yet I'll pause;
|For I am loath to break our country's laws.
|Nor friends nor foes, to me welcome you are:
|Things past redress are now with me past care.