SCENE IV. Enter Exton, and a Servant. Exton. Didst thou not mark the king, what words he spake? Have I no friend will rid me of this living fear? Sero. Those were his very words. Exton. Have I no friend? quoth he: he spake it twice, And urg'd it twice together; did he not? Serv. He did. Exton. And, speaking it, he wistly 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. [Ereunt. SCENE V. POMFRET. THE DUNGEON OF THE CASTLE. 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; For no thought is contented. The better sort,—- As thus, Come,-little ones; and then again,- To thread the postern of a needle's eye. Thoughts tending to ambition, they do plot With nothing shall be pleas'd, till he be eas'd And here have I the daintiness of ear, Is pointing still, in cleansing them from tears. Enter Groom. Groom. Hail, royal prince! K. Rich. Thanks, noble peer; The cheapest of us is ten groats too dear. What art thou? and how comest thou hither, 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 sometimes 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; 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 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. Keep. Help, help, help! [Beats the Keeper. 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, 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; O, would the deed were good! |