[Enter LORD ROSS and LORD WILLOUGHBY]
NORTHUMBERLAND Here come the Lords of Ross and Willoughby,
Bloody with spurring, fiery-red with haste.
HENRY BOLINGBROKE Welcome, my lords. I wot your love pursues
A banish'd traitor: all my treasury
Is yet but unfelt thanks, which more enrich'd
Shall be your love and labour's recompense.
LORD ROSS Your presence makes us rich, most noble lord.
LORD WILLOUGHBY And far surmounts our labour to attain it.
HENRY BOLINGBROKE Evermore thanks, the exchequer of the poor;
Which, till my infant fortune comes to years,
Stands for my bounty. But who comes here?
[Enter LORD BERKELEY]
NORTHUMBERLAND It is my Lord of Berkeley, as I guess.
LORD BERKELEY My Lord of Hereford, my message is to you.
HENRY BOLINGBROKE 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.
LORD BERKELEY 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.
[Enter DUKE OF YORK attended]
HENRY BOLINGBROKE I shall not need transport my words by you;
Here comes his grace in person.
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