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And in it are the lords of York, Berkley, and Sey

mour; None else of name, and noble estimate.

Enter Ross and WILLOUGHBY.

North. Here come the lords of Ross and Wil

loughby, 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, 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

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: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. Show 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 profane.
Why have those banish'd and forbidden legs
Dar'd once to touch a dust of England's ground?
But then more why;" -Why have they dar'd to

So many miles upon her peaceful bosom;
Frighting her pale-fac'd villages with war,
And ostentation of despised arms ?
Com’st 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
From forth the ranks of many thousand French;
O, then, how quickly should this arm of mine,
Now prisoner to the palsy, chástise thee,
And minister correction to thy fault!

Mars of men,


the absent time,] i. e. time of the king's absence. 4 But then' more why;] But, to add more questions.

$ And ostentation of despised arms?] The meaning of this probably is-a boastful display of arms which we despise.

Boling. My gracious uncle, let me know my

fault; On what condition stands it, and wherein ?

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.

Boling. As I was banishd, I was banish'd Here


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 perinit that I shall stand condemn'd
A wand'ring vagabond; my rights and royalties
Pluck'd froin my arms perforce, and given away
To upstart unthrifts? Wherefore was I born?
If that


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 died, and he been thus trod down, He should have found his uncle Gaunt a father, To rouse his wrongs, and chase thein to the bay. I am denied to sue my livery here, And yet my letters-patent give me leave: My father's goods are all distrain’d, and sold; And these, and all, are all amiss einploy’d. What would you have me do? I am a subject, And challenge law: Attornies are denied me; And therefore personally I lay my claim To my inheritance of free descent.



indifferent eye:) i. e, with an impartial eye.
To, rouse his wrongs,] i. e. persons who wrong him.

to sue my livery here,] A law phrase belonging to the feudal tenures.



my cousin's

North. The noble duke hath been too much

Ross. It stands your grace upon, to do him

Willo. Base men by his endowments are made

York. My lords of England, let me tell you

I have had feeling of

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 wrong, -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 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.

Boling. An offer, uncle, that we will accept.
But we must win

your grace,


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.

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9 It stands your grace upon, to do him right.] is e. it is yout interest, it is matter of consequence to you.

York. It may be, I will go


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.



A Camp in Wales.

Enter SALISBURY, and a Captain.
Cap. My lord of Salisbury, we have staid ten

And hardly kept our countrymen together,
And yet we hear no tidings from the king;
Therefore we will disperse ourselves: farewell.
Sal. Stay yet another day, thou trusty Welsh-

man; The king reposeth all his confidence In thee. Cap. 'Tis thought, the king is dead; we will not

stay. The bay-trees in our country are all wither'd,' And meteors fright the fixed stars of heaven; The pale-fac'd moon looks bloody on the earth, And lean-look'd prophets whisper fearful change; Rich men look sad, and ruffians dance and leap,-The one, in fear to lose what they enjoy, The other, to enjoy by rage and war: These signs forerun the death or fall of kings. Farewell; our countrymen are gone and fled, As well assur'd, Richard their king is dead.


· The bay-trees, &c.] This enumeration of prodigies is in the highest degree poetical and striking. JOHNSON.

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