Page:Richard II (1921) Yale.djvu/57

King Richard the Second, II. iii

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 Berkeley, 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 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-borne arms.

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,

 61 unfelt: not expressed in deeds

75 raze: erase

79 absent time: time of (the king's) absence

80 self-borne: borne for oneself

