That jade hath eat bread from my royal hand; Spur-gall'd, and tired, 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. Keep. My lord, 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. [Exit. K. Rich. The devil take Henry of Lancaster, and thee! Patience is stale, and I am weary of it. [Beats 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 instrument. [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, [Dies. This dead king to the living king I'll bear; Take hence the rest, and give them burial here. [Exeunt. SCENE VI-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 consumed with fire * Jaunting. 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 happiness. The heads of Salisbury, Spencer, Blunt, and Kent: [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 Boling. Thy pains, Fitzwater, shall not be forgot; Enter PERCY, with the Bishop of CARLISLE. Percy. The grand conspirator, abbot of Westminster, With clog of conscience, and sour melancholy, Hath yielded up his body to the grave; But here is Carlisle living, to abide Thy kingly doom, and sentence of his pride. Choose out some secret place, some reverend room, Enter EXTON, with Attendants bearing a Coffin. Exton. Great king, within this coffin I present Thy buried fear: herein all breathless lies The mightiest of thy greatest enemies, Richard of Bourdeaux, by me hither brought. Boling. Exton, I thank thee not; for thou hast wrought A deed of slander with thy fatal hand, Upon my head, and all this famous land. Exton. From your own mouth, my lord, did I this deed. I hate the murderer, love him murdered. Lords, I protest, my soul is full of woe, That blood should sprinkle me, to make me grow : I'll make a voyage to the Holy Land, To wash this blood off from my guilty hand :- * Immediately. [Exeunt. SCENE I.-London. A Room in the Palace. Enter KING HENRY, WESTMORELAND, SIR WALTER BLUNT, and others. K. Hen. So shaken as we are, so wan with care, * Strands of the sea. No more the thirsty Erinnys* of this soil Shall daub her lips with her own children's blood; Shall now, in mutual, well-beseeming ranks, (Whose soldier now, under whose blessed cross Whose arms were moulded in their mothers' womb But this our purpose is a twelvemonth old, West. My liege, this haste was hot in question, K. Hen. It seems then, that the tidings of this broil West. This, match'd with other, did, my gracious lord; Came from the north, and thus it did import. That ever-valiant and approved Scot, At Holmedon met, * The fury of discord. + Army. + Expedition. Outlines. |