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Proportionable to the enemy,
Is all impossible.

Green. 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. Bushy. Wherein the king stands generally con

demned. Bagot. If judgment lie in them, then so do we, Because we ever have been near the king. Green. Well, I'll for refuge straight to Bristol

castle ;
The earl of Wiltshire is already there.

Bushy. 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; l'll to Ireland to his majesty.
Farewell ; if heart's presages be not vain,
We three here part, that ne'er shall meet again.
Bushy. That's as York thrives to beat back Boling-

Green. Alas, poor duke! the task he undertakes
Is-numbering sands, and drinking oceans dry;
Where one on his side fights, thousands will fly.

Bushy. Farewell at once ; for once, for all, and ever.
Green. Well, we may meet again.

I fear me, never.


SCENE III. The Wilds in Glostershire.


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

North. Believe me, noble lord,
I am a stranger here in Glostershire.

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 beguiled
The tediousness and process of my travel ;
But theirs is sweetened with the hope to have
The present benefit which I possess;
And hope to joy,' is little less in joy,
Than hope enjoyed. By this the weary

lords Shall make their way seem short; 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, Sent from my brother Worcester, whencesoever.Harry, how fares your uncle ? Percy. I had thought, my lord, to have learned his

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

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, 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 sent me o'er by Berkley, to discover What

power the duke of York had levied there; Then with direction to repair to Ravensburg.

1 To joy is here used as a verb; it is equivalent with to rejoice. « To joy, to clap hands, to rejoyce."-Baret.

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 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, 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 Berkley? And what stir Keeps good old York there, with his men of war?

Percy. There stands the castle, by yon tuft of trees, Manned 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 Wil

loughby, Bloody with spurring, fiery-red with haste.

Boling. Welcome, my lords. I wot your love pur


A banished traitor ; all my treasury
Is yet but unfelt thanks, which, more enriched,
Shall be your love and labor's recompense.

Ross. Your presence makes us rich, most noble lord.
Willo. And far surmounts our labor 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 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 mean

ing To raze one title of


honor out.-
To you, my lord, I come, (what lord you will,)
From the most gracious 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.3 I am no traitor's uncle ; and that word-grace, In an ungracious mouth, is but profane. Why have those banished and forbidden legs Dared once to touch a dust of England's ground? But then more why :why have they dared to march So many miles upon her peaceful bosom ; Frighting her pale-faced villages with war,

1 “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.”

2 Time of the king's absence.
3 In Romeo and Juliet we have the same kind of phraseology :-

“ Thank me no thankings, nor proud me no prouds.”

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 men,
From forth the ranks of many thousand French,
O, then, how quickly should this arm of mine,
Now prisoner to the palsy, 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. Even in condition of the worst degree,-
In gross rebellion, and detested treason.
Thou art a banished man, and here art come,
Before the expiration of thy time,
In braving arms against thy sovereign.

Boling. As I was banished, I was banished Hereford;
But as I come, I come for Lancaster.
And, noble uncle, I beseech your grace,
Look on my wrongs with an indifferent?

You are my father, for, methinks, in you
I see old Gaunt alive ; 0, then, my father!
Will you permit that I shall stand condemned
A wandering vagabond ; my rights and royalties
Plucked from my arms perforce, and given 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.

1 Perhaps Shakspeare here uses despised for hated or hateful arms. Sir Thomas Hanmer changed it to despiteful; but the old copies all agree in reading despised. Shakspeare uses the word again in a singular sense in Othello, Act i. Sc. 1, where Brabantio exclaims upon the loss of his daughter:

what's to come of my despised time

Is nought but bitterness." It has been suggested that “ despised is used to denote the general contempt in which the British held the French forces. The duke of Bretagne furnished Bolingbroke with three thousand French soldiers."

? Indifferent is impartial. The instances of this use of the word among the Poet's contemporaries are very numerous.

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