Ext.
Didst thou not mark the king, what words he spake?
Have I no friend will rid me of this living fear?
Was it not so?

Ser.
Those were his very words.

Ext.
Have I no friend? quoth he: he spake it twice,
And urged it twice together; did he not?

Ser.
He did.

Ext.
And, speaking it, he wistfully look'd on me;
As who should say,—I would, thou wert the man
That would divorce this terror from my heart;
Meaning, the king at Pomfret. Come, let's go;
I am the king's friend, and will rid his foe. [Exeunt. Enter King Richard.

K. Rich.
I have been studying how I may compare
This prison, where I live, unto the world:
And, for because the world is populous,
And here is not a creature but myself,
I cannot do it;—Yet I'll hammer it out.
My brain I'll prove the female to my soul;
My soul, the father: and these two beget
A generation of still-breeding thoughts,
And these same thoughts people this little world;^{7 note}
Thus play I, in one person, many people,
And none contented: sometimes am I king;
Then treason makes me wish myself a beggar,
And so I am: Then crushing penury
Persuades me I was better when a king;
Then am I king'd again; and, by-and-by,
Think that I am unking'd by Bolingbroke,
And straight am nothing. Enter Groom.

Groom.
Hail! royal prince.

K. Rich.
Thanks, noble peer;
What art thou? and how comest thou hither,
Where no man ever comes, but that sad dog,^{8 note}
That brings me food, to make misfortune live?

Groom.
I was a poor groom of thy stable, king(E)8Q0157,
When thou wert king, who travelling towards York,
With much ado, at length have gotten leave
To look upon my sometime master's face.^{9 note}
O, how it yearn'd my heart, when I beheld,
In London streets, that coronation day.
When Bolingbroke rode on roan Barbary!(F)8Q0158
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.^{10 note} Enter Keeper, with a dish.

Keep. [to the Groom]
Fellow, give place; here is no longer stay.

K. Rich.
If thou love me, 'tis time thou wert away.

Groom.
What my tongue dares not, that my heart shall say. [Exit.

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.

K. Rich.
The devil take Henry of Lancaster, and thee!
Patience is stale, and I am weary of it. [Seizes a knife from the table, and strikes at the Keeper.

Keep.
Help! help! help! Enter Exton, and Eight Attendants, 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 four of them. Then Exton strikes him down.
That hand shall burn in never quenching fire,
That staggers thus my person.—
Mount, mount, my soul! thy seat is up on high;
Whilst my gross flesh sinks downward here to die.(G)8Q0159 [Dies. The Scene is closed in by a Curtain, which, after a short pause, is withdrawn, and discovers

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