Boling.
I shall not need transport my words by you.
Here comes his Grace in person. Noble Uncle! [Kneels.

York.
Shew 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 prophane.
Why have those banish'd, and forbidden legs
Dar'd once to touch a dust of England's ground?
But more than,—why, why, have they dar'd to march
So many miles upon her peaceful bosom,
Frighting her pale-fac'd villages with war,
^{7 note}

Were I but now the lord of such hot youth,
As when brave Gaunt, thy father, and my self
Rescu'd the Black Prince, that young Mars of men,
From forth the ranks of many thousand French;
Oh! then, how quickly should this arm of mine,
Now prisoner to the palsie, 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.
Ev'n 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.

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
Pluckt from my arms perforce, and giv'n 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 Kinsman:
Had you first dy'd, and he been thus trod down,
He should have found his uncle Gaunt a father,
To rowze his wrongs, and chase them to the bay.
I am deny'd 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 imploy'd.
What would you have me do? I am a Subject,
And challenge law: attorneys are deny'd me;
And therefore personally I lay my Claim

To mine Inheritance of free Descent.

North.
The noble Duke hath been too much abus'd.

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 labour'd 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 wrongs, 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 Pow'r 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, farewel.
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 Common-wealth,
Which I have sworn to weed, and pluck away.

York.
It may be, I will go: 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. [Exeunt.

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