Now fhall he try his friends that flatter'd him.

Enter a Servant.

Ser. My lord, your fon was gone before I came, York. He was ?Why, fo!-go all which way it will! The nobles they are fled, the commons they are cold, And will, I fear, revolt on Hereford's fide.

Sirrah,

Get thee to Plafhy 7, to my fifter Glofter;

Bid her fend me prefently 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 reft.

York. What is it, knave?

Ser. An hour before I came, the dutchefs 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 & had not provok'd him to it,)
The king had cut off my head with my brother's.-
What, are there no pofts difpatch'd for Ireland?—
How fhall we do for money for these wars?-

Come, fifter,-coufin, I would fay 9: pray, pardon me.-
Go, fellow, [to the fer.] get thee home, provide fome 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 diforderly thrust into my hands,
Never believe me. Both are my kinfmen ;-
The one's my fovereign, whom both my oath
And duty bids defend; the other again
Is my kinfman, whom the king hath wrong'd;
Whom confcience and my kindred bids to right.

7 Get thee to Plafby-] The lordship of Plashy was a town of the dutchefs of Glofter's in Effex. See Hall's Chronicle, p. 13. THEOBALD, untruth-] That is, difloyalty, treachery. JOHNSON.

9 Come, fifter,—coufin, I would jay:] This is one of Shakspeare's touches of nature. York is talking to the queen his coufin, but the recent death of his fifler is uppermoft in his mind. STEEVENS.

Well,

Well, fomewhat we must do.-Come, coufin, I'll
Difpofe of you:-Gentlemen, go, mufter up your men,
And meet me prefently at Berkley-Castle.

I fhould to Plashy too ;

But time will not permit :-All is uneven,
And every thing is left at fix and feven.

[Exeunt YORK and Queen.

Busby. The wind fits fair for news to go to Ireland, But none returns. For us to levy power,

Proportionable to the enemy,

Is all un poffible.

Green. Befides, 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 purfes; and whofo empties them,

By fo much fills their hearts with deadly hate.

Busby. Wherein the king stands generally condemn'd. Bagot. If judgment lie in them, then fo do we, Because we ever have been near the king.

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

Bufby. Thither will I with you: for little office

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 majefty. Farewel: if heart's prefages be not vain,

We three here part, that ne'er fhall meet again.

Buby. That's as York thrives to beat back Bolingbroke. Green. Alas, poor duke! the tafk he undertakes. Is-numb'ring fands, and drinking oceans dry; . Where one on his fide fights, thoufands will fly. Buby. Farewell at once; for once, for all; and ever. Green. Well, we may meet again. Bagot. I fear me, never.

[Exeunt.

SCENE

SCENE III.

The wilds in Gloftershire.

Enter BOLINGBROKE and NORTHUMBERLAND, 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 wearifome:
And yet your fair discourse hath been as fugar,
Making the hard way fweet and délectable.
But, I bethink me, what a weary way,
From Ravenfpurg to Cotswold, will be found
In Rofs and Willoughby, wanting your company;
Which, I proteft, hath very much beguil'd
The tedioufnefs and procefs of my travel:
But theirs is sweeten'd with the hope to have
The present benefit which I poffefs:
And hope to joy, is little less in joy,
Than hope enjoy'd: by this, the weary lords
Shall make their way feem short; as mine hath done
By fight 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 fon, young Harry Percy, fent From my brother Worcester, whencefoever.

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?

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 rofe." Again, in K. Henry VI. P. II:

"Was ever king that joy'd on earthly throne-."

The word is again ufed with the fame fignification in the play before us.

MALONE.

Percy.

Percy. No, my good lord; he hath forfook the court, Broken his ftaff of office, and difpers'd

The houshold of the king.

North. What was his reafon ?

He was not fo refolv'd, when last we fpake together.

Percy. Because your lordship was proclaimed traitor.
But he, my lord, is gone to Ravenfpurg,

To offer service to the duke of Hereford;
And fent me o'er by Berkley, to discover
What power the duke of York had levy'd there;
Then with direction to repair to Ravenfpurg.

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 fhall ripen, and confirm

To more approved fervice and defert.

Boling. I thank thee, gentle Percy; and be fure, I count myself in nothing else fo 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 feals it. North. How far is it to Berkley? And what ftir Keeps good old York there, with his men of war? Percy. There ftands 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 Rofs and Willoughby, Bloody with fpurring, fiery-red with haste.

Boling. Welcome, my lords: I wot, your love pursues A banish'd traitor; all my treafury

Is yet but unfelt thanks, which, more enrich'd,
Shall be your love and labour's recompence.

Rofs.

Rofs. Your prefence makes us rich, moft noble lord.
Willo. And far furmounts 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?
Enter BERKLEY.

North. It is my lord of Berkley, as I guess.
Berk. My lord of Hereford, my meffage is to you.
Boling. My lord, my answer is to Lancaster2;
And I am come to feek that name in England:
And I must find that title in your tongue,
Before I make reply to aught you fay.

Berk. Miftake 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 abfent time 4,

And fright our native peace with felf-born arms.
Enter YORK, attended.

Boling. I fhall not need tranfport my words by you; Here comes his grace in perfon. My noble uncle! [kneels. York. Shew me thy humble heart, and not thy knee, Whofe duty is deceivable and false.

Beling. 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

2- - my answer is to Lancaster ;] Your meffage, you fay, 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 bonour out:-] "How the names of them which for capital crimes against majcitie were crazed out of the publicke records, tables, and regifters, or forbidden to be borne by their pofteritie, when their memorie was damned, I could fhow at large." Camden's Remaines, p. 136, edit. 1605. MALONE.

4 the abfent time,] i. e. time of the king's abfence. JOHNSON.

Dar'd