BAGOT.
I fear me, never.
[Exeunt.]
SCENE III. The Wolds in Gloucestershire.
Enter Bolingbroke and Northumberland with Forces.
BOLINGBROKE.
How far is it, my lord, to Berkeley now?
NORTHUMBERLAND.
Believe me, noble lord,
I am a stranger here in Gloucestershire.
These high wild hills and rough uneven ways
Draws out our miles and makes them wearisome.
And yet your fair discourse hath been as sugar,
Making the hard way sweet and delectable.
But I bethink me what a weary way
From Ravenspurgh to Cotshall 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.
BOLINGBROKE.
Of much less value is my company
Than your good words. But who comes here?
Enter Harry Percy.
NORTHUMBERLAND.
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.