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Now shall he try his friends that Alatter'd him.

Enter a Servant.
Ser. My lord, your son was gone before I came,

York. He was ?-Why, so!-go all which way it will !
The nobles they are fled, the commons they are cold,
And will, I fear, revolt on Hereford's side.
Get thee to Plasy?, to my sister Glofter ;
Bid her send me presently a thousand pound:-
Hold, take my ring.

Ser. My lord, I had forgot to tell your lordship:
To-day, as I came by, I called there ;
But I shall grieve you to report the rest.

York. What is it, knave?
Ser. An hour before I came, the dutchess died.

York. God for his mercy! what a tide of woes
Comes rushing on this woeful land at once!
I know not what to do :-I would to God
(So my untruth S had not provok'd him to it,)
'The king had cut off my head with my brother's..,
What, are there no poits dispatch'd for Ireland -
How shall we do for money for these wars?-
Come, filter,—cousin, I would say?: pray, pardon me.-
Go, fellow, to the fer.] get thee home, provide some carts,
And bring away the armour that is there. [Exit ferv.
Gentlemen, will you go mufter men? if I know
How, or which way, to order these affairs,
Thus disorderly thrust into my hands,
Never believe me. Both are my kinsmen ;-
The one's my sovereign, whom both my oath
And duty bids defend ; the other again
Is my kiníman, whom the king hath wrong'd;
Whom conscience and my kindred bids to right.

2. Git ibee to Plafby:-) The lordship of Play was a town of the dutchess of Gloiter's in Efiex. See Hall's Chronicle, p. 13. THEOBALD.

uniruik--] That is, disloyalty, treachery. JOHNSON. 9 Come, lifter, --coulin, I wcuid jay :) This is one of Shakspeare's touches of nature. York is talking to the queen his cousin, but the reuent death of his filter is uppermuft in his mind. STEEVENS.


Well, somewhat we must do.-Come, cousin, I'll
Dispose of you :-Gentlemen, go, muster up your men,
And meet me presently at Berkley-Caitle.
I should to Plathy too ;-
But time will not permit :-- All is uneven,
And every thing is left at fix and seven.

[Exeunt York and Queen.
Bujhy. The wind sits fair for news to go to Ireland,
But none returns. For us to levy power,
Proportionable to the enemy,
Is all unpoffible.

Grien. Besides, our nearness to the king in love, Is near the hate of those love not the king.

Bagot. And that's the wavering commons: for their love Lies in their purses; and whoso empties them, By so much fills their hearts with deadly hate.

Buby. Wherein the king stands generally condemn'd.

Bazot. If judgment lie in them, then so do we, Because we ever have been near the king.

Green. Well, I'll for refuge ftraight to Bristol castle: The earl of Wiltthire is already there.

Bushy. Thither will I with you: for little ofice
Will the hateful commons perform for us ;
Except, like curs, to tear us all to pieces.-
Will you go along with us ?

Bagot. No; I'll to Ireland to his majesty.
Farewel : if heart's pretages be not vain,
We three here part, that ne'er shall meet again.

B:lyh;. That's as York thrives to beat back Bolingbroke.

Gren. Alas, poor duke! the task he undertakes
Is-numb'ring fands, and drinking oceans dry; .
Where one on his side fights, thousands will fly.

Baby. Farewell at once; for once, for all, and ever.
Gron. Well, we may meet again.
Bagot. I fear me, never.



Tbe wilds in Glostershire.


with forces.

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

North. Believe me, noble lord,
I am a ftranger here in Gloftershire.
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 beguild
The tediousness and process of my travel :
But theirs is sweetend 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 sort; 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, fent From my brother Worcester, whenceloever.Harry, how fares your uncle ? Percy. I had thought, my lord, to have learn'd his

health of you. North. Why, is he not with the queen?

1 And bope to joy,-) To joy is, I believe, here used as a verb. So, in the second act of K. Henry IV : Poor fellow never joy'd fince the price of oats rose.” Again, in K. Henry VI. P. II:

“ Was ever king that joy'd on earthly throne-." The word is again used with the same fignification in the play beforę us. MALONI.


Percy. No, my good lord; he hath forsook the court,
Broken his staff of office, and dispers’d
The houshold of the king.

North. What was his reason?
He was not so resolv’d, 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 feng me o'er by Berkley, to discover
What power the duke of York had levy'd there;
Then with direction to repair to Ravenspurg.

North. Have you forgot the duke of Hereford, boy? Perry. 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.

Perry. My gracious lord, I tender you my service,
Such as it is, being tender, raw and young ;
Which elder days Thall ripen, and confirm
To more approved service and desert.

Boling. I thank thee, gentle Percy; and be fure,
I count myself in nothing else so happy,
As in a foul rememb'ring my good friends;
And, as my fortune ripens with thy love,
It shall be still thy true love's recompence:
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 itands 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, 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 hafte.

Boling. Welcome, my lords : I wot, your love pursues A banith'd traitor ; all my treasury Is yet but unfelt thanks, which, more enrich'd, Shall be your love and labour's recompence.


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

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 honour out 3 :-
To you, my lord, I come, (what lord you will,)
From the most glorious 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 York, attended.
Boling. I shall not need transport my words by you;
Here comes his grace in person.-My noble uncle ! [kneels.

York. Shew me thy humble heart, and not thy knee,
Whose duty is deceivable and false,

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 baniih'd and forbidden legs

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2 — my answer is to Lancasier ;] 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. MALONE.

3 To raze one title of your honour cut:-] “ How the names of them which for capital crimes against majeitie were crazed out of the publicke records, tables, and registers, or forbidden to be borne by their polteritie, when their memorie was damned, I could show at large." Came den's Remaines, p. 136, edit. 1605. MALONE. 4 - the absent sime,] i. e. time of tbe king's absence. JOHNSON.


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