and labour's recompense. Your presence makes us rich, most noble lord. And far surmounts our labour to attain it. Evermore thanks, the exchequer of the poor; Which, till my infant fortune comes to years, Stands for my bounty. But who comes here? It is my Lord of Berkeley, as I guess. My Lord of Hereford, my message is to you. 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. 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 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. I shall not need transport my words by you; Here comes his grace in person. My noble uncle! Show me thy humble heart, and not thy knee, Whose duty is deceiveable and false. My gracious uncle-- 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 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 And ostentation of despised arms? Comest 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! My gracious uncle, let me know my fault: On what condition stands it and wherein? 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. 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