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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