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Exton. Have 1 no friend ? quoth he: he spake
Serv. He did.
Pomfret. The Castle.
Enter King RichARD.
Nor shall not be the last; like silly beggars,
many y have, and others must sit there :
watch, Whereto my finger, like a dial's point, Is pointing still, in cleansing them from tears. Now, sir, the sounds that tell what hour it is, Are clamorous groans, that strike upon my heart, Which is the bell: So sighs, and tears, and groans, Show minutes, times, and hours : - but my
time Runs posting on in Bolingbroke's proud joy. This musick mads me, let it sound no more ; For, though it have holpe madmen to their wits, In me, it seems it will make wise men mad.
Yet blessing on his heart that gives it me!
Groom. Hail, royal prince!
Groom. I was a poor groom of thy stable, king, When thou wert king; who, travelling towards
York, With much ado, at length have gotten leave To look upon my sometime master's face. O, how it yern'd my heart, when I beheld, In London streets, that coronation day, When Bolingbroke rode on roan Barbary ! That horse, that thou so often hast bestrid ; That horse, that I so carefully have dress’d ! K. Rich. Rode he on Barbary? Tell me, gentle
friend, How went he under him ?
Groom. So proudly, as if he disdain'd the ground. K. Rich. So proud that Bolingbroke was on his
back ! That jade hath eat bread from my royal hand; This hand hath made him proud with clapping him. Would he not stumble? Would he not fall down, (Since pride must have a fall,) and break the neck Of that proud man that did usurp his back? Forgiveness, horse! why do I rail on thee, Since thou, created to be aw'd by man, Wast born to bear ? I was not made a horse ; And yet I bear a burden like an ass, Spur-gall’d, and tir’d, by jauncing Bolingbroke.
Enter Keeper, with a Dish. Keep. Fellow, give place; here is no longer stay.
[To the Groom. K. Rich. If thou love me, 'tis time thou wert
away. Groom. What my tongue dares not, that my heart
[Exit. Keep. Mylord, will't please you to fall to? K. Rich. Taste of it first, as thou art wont to do. Keep. My lord, I dare not; sir Pierce of Exton,
who Lately came from the king, commands the contrary. K. Rich. The devil take Henry of Lancaster, and
thee! Patience is stale, and I am weary of it.
ČBeats the Keeper. Keep. Help, help, help!'
Enter Exton, and Servants, armed. K. Rich. How now ? what means death in this
rude assault ? Villain, thy own hand yields thy death's instru
ment. [Snatching a weapon, and killing one. Go thou, and fill another room in hell.
[He kills another, then Exton strikes him
down. That hand shall burn in never-quenching fire, That staggers thus my person. — Exton, thy fierce
hand Hath with the king's blood stain'd the king's own
land. Mount, mount, my soul! thy seat is up on high; Whilst my gross flesh sinks downward, here to die.
[Dies. Exton. As full of valour, as of royal blood : Both have I spilt; 0, would the deed were good!
For now the devil, that told me, I did well,
Windsor. A Room in the Castle.
Flourish. Enter BOLINGBROKE, and YORK, with
Lords and Attendants. Boling. Kind uncle York, the latest news we hear Is that the rebels have consum’d with fire. Our town of Cicester in Glostershire ; But whether they be ta’en, or slain, we hear not.
Enter NORTHUMBERLAND. Welcome, my
lord : : What is the news ? North. First, to thy sacred state wish I all happi
The next news is, - I have to London sent
[Presenting a paper. Boling. We thank thee, gentle Percy, for thy
pains ; And to thy worth will add right worthy gains.
Enter FitzwATER. Fitz. My lord, I have from Oxford sent to London The heads of Brocas, and Sir Bennet Seely; Two of the dangerous consorted traitors, That sought at Oxford thy dire overthrow.