NORTHUMBERLAND            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.

NORTHUMBERLAND            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 approvèd service and desert.

BOLINGBROKE                      I thank thee, gentle Percy, and be sure

I count myself in nothing else so happy

As in a soul rememb’ring 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. (2.3.36-50)

Awkward! Harry Percy doesn’t realise who he’s talking to, that this is the Duke of Hereford, Bolingbroke and (not for the last time) his father needs to rebuke him, tell him to mind his manners, listen and think before he speaks. The point’s also being made, indirectly, that Bolingbroke has been away, out of the country for some time; men are allying themselves with someone whom they haven’t yet met. There is much at stake here, in terms of confidence and trust; Bolingbroke needs to make a good impression too. Fortunately, after his initial outburst of what could be played either as sarcasm or extreme literalism (how can I forget, not remember someone I’ve never met? rather than forget in the sense of overlook, not be cognisant of, here the customary courtesies of rank and status), Percy grasps that he’s made a bit of a blunder and is engagingly polite: I tender you my service. And he adds, for what that service is worth, such as it is, seeing as I (and any service I can offer) am tender, raw, and young. But I will grow up, and offer better service. I will deserve well of you; my elder days will ripen and confirm that I am worthy of your trust, and of reward. (This whole exchange is fraught with irony: the allegiance being pledged here will fall apart spectacularly in due course. The audience’s advantage of hindsight in the history plays must complicate their responses.) The onus here is on Bolingbroke to be magnanimous and statesman-like, and he gets it right, although there’s room for an ironic smile on gentle Percy, perhaps. I count myself in nothing else so happy as in a soul remembering my good friends; my supporters mean the world to me (and friends is intimate, here: family, allies). And your love (meaning loyalty, service, the willingness to advocate and recruit on my behalf; in starker terms, to become a rebel and a traitor) will ripen my fortunes—and you will be properly rewarded for your loyalty as I am able to do so. (Not just statesman but politician: this sounds great, echoing Percy’s own terms, but it’s also carefully contingent and conditional.) My heart this covenant makes, my hand thus seals it: it’s a deal, a contract, and there will be a gesture, a handshake, an embrace. Bolingbroke is making all the right noises.