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 shall say. [Exit.

Keep.
My lord, will't please you to fall to?

K. Rich.
Taste of it first, as thou wert wont to do.

Keep.
My lord, I dare not; for Sir Pierce of Exton,
Who late came from the King, commands the contrary.

K. Rich.
The Dev'l 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.

K. Rich.
How now? what means death in this rude assault?
Wretch, thine own hand yields thy death's instrument; [Snatching a Sword.
Go thou, and fill another room in hell. [Kills another. [Exton strikes him down.
That hand shall burn in never-quenching fire,
That staggers thus my person: 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: Oh, would the deed were good!
For now the devil, that told me, I did well,
Says, that this deed is chronicled in hell.
This dead King to the living King I'll bear;
Take hence the rest, and give them burial here. [Exeunt.

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