Boling.
How far is it, my lord, to Berkeley now?

North.
Believe me, noble lord, ^note
I am a stranger here ^note in Gloucestershire:
These high wild ^note hills and rough uneven ways
Draws out our miles, and makes ^note them wearisome;
And yet your ^note 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 ^note will be found
In ^note 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 ^note I possess;
And hope to joy ^note is little less in joy
Than hope enjoy'd: by this the weary lords
Shall make their way seem short, as mine hath done ^note
By sight of what I have, your noble ^note company.

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

Enter Henry ^note Percy.

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

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

North.
Why ^note, is he not with the queen? ^note

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 ^note when last we ^note spake together ^note.

Percy.
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 ^note by Berkeley, to discover
What power the Duke of York had levied there;
Then with directions ^note to repair to Ravenspurgh.

North.
Have you forgot the Duke of Hereford, boy ^note?

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 ^note,
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 Berkeley? and what stir
Keeps good old York there with his men of war?

Percy.
There stands the castle, by yon ^note tuft of trees,
Mann'd with three hundred ^note men, as I have heard;
And in it are the Lords of ^{note note} York, Berkeley, and ^note Seymour;
None else of name and noble estimate ^note. Enter ^note Ross and Willoughby.

North.
Here come ^note the Lords of Ross and Willoughby,
Bloody with spurring, fiery-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.
Evermore thanks ^note, the exchequer of the poor;
Which, till my infant fortune comes to years,
Stands for my bounty ^note. But who ^note comes here? Enter Berkeley. ^note

North.
It is my Lord of Berkeley, as I guess.

Berk.
My Lord of ^note Hereford, my message is to you ^note.

Boling.
My lord, my answer is—to ^note Lancaster;
And ^note I am come to seek that name in England;

And I must ^note find that title in your tongue ^note,
Before I make reply to aught you say.

Berk.
Mistake me not, my Lord; 'tis not my meaning
To raze ^note one title ^note of your honour out:
To you, my lord, I come, what lord you will,
From the most gracious regent of ^note this land,
The Duke of York, to know what pricks you on
To take advantage of the absent time ^note
And fright our native peace with self-born arms. Enter York attended. ^{note note}

Boling.
I shall not need transport my words by you;
Here comes his grace in person.
My noble ^note uncle! [Kneels. ^note

York.
Show me thy humble heart, and not thy knee,
Whose duty is deceiveable and false.

Boling.
My gracious uncle—

York.
Tut, tut!
Grace me no grace, nor uncle ^note me no uncle ^note:
I am no traitor's uncle; and ^note that word ^note ‘grace’
In an ungracious mouth is but profane.
Why have those ^note banish'd and forbidden legs
Dared once to touch a dust ^note of England's ground?
But then more ‘why?’ ^note why have they dared to march

So many miles upon her peaceful bosom,
Frighting her pale-faced villages with war
And ostentation of despised ^note 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 ^note of such hot youth
As when brave Gaunt, thy father, and myself ^note
Rescued the Black Prince, that young Mars of men,
From forth the ranks of many thousand ^note French,
O, then how quickly should this arm of mine,
Now prisoner to the palsy ^note, chastise thee
And minister correction to thy fault!

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

York.
Even in the 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 ^note 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 ^note methinks in you
I see old Gaunt alive; O, then, my ^note 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 ^note England,
It must be granted I am Duke of Lancaster.

You have a son, Aumerle, my noble cousin ^note;
Had you first died, and he been thus trod down,
He should have found his uncle Gaunt a father,
To rouse his wrongs ^note and chase them to the bay.
I am denied to sue my livery here,
And yet my letters-patents ^note give me leave:
My father's goods are all distrain'd and sold;
And these and all are all ^note amiss employ'd.
What would you have me do? I am a subject,
And I ^note challenge law: attorneys are denied me;
And therefore personally I lay my claim
To my ^note inheritance of free descent.

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 laboured all I could to do him right;
But in this kind to come, in ^note braving arms,
Be his own carver and cut out his way,
To find out right with wrong ^note, it may not be;
And you that do abet him in this kind
Cherish rebellion and are rebels all.

North. ^note
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 ^note 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 ^note;
Unless you please to enter in the castle
And there ^note repose you for this night. ^note

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

York.
It may be I will go with you ^note: but yet I'll pause;
For I am loath to break our country's laws.
Nor friends ^note nor foes, to me welcome you ^note are:
Things past redress are now with me past care. [Exeunt. ^{note note}

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