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at length have gotten leave To look upon my sometimes royal master's
face。 O; how it ern'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!
KING RICHARD。 Rode he on Barbary? Tell me; gentle friend; How went
he under him? GROOM。 So proudly as if he disdain'd the ground。 KING
RICHARD。 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; Spurr'd; gall'd; and tir'd; by jauncing Bolingbroke。
Enter KEEPER with meat
KEEPER。 Fellow; give place; here is no longer stay。 KING
RICHARD。 If thou love me; 'tis time thou wert away。 GROOM。 my
tongue dares not; that my heart shall say。 Exit KEEPER。 My lord; will't
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please you to fall to? KING RICHARD。 Taste of it first as thou art wont to
do。 KEEPER。 My lord; I dare not。 Sir Pierce of Exton; Who lately came
from the King; commands the contrary。 KING RICHARD。 The devil take
Henry of Lancaster and thee! Patience is stale; and I am weary of it。 'Beats
the KEEPER' KEEPER。 Help; help; help! The murderers; EXTON and
servants; rush in; armed KING RICHARD。 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
spill'd。 O; 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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KING RICHARD THE SECOND
SCENE 6。 Windsor Castle
Flourish。 Enter BOLINGBROKE; the DUKE OF YORK; With other
LORDS and attendants
BOLINGBROKE。 Kind uncle York; the latest news we hear Is that
the rebels have consum'd with fire Our town of Ciceter in Gloucestershire;
But whether they be ta'en or slain we hear not。
Enter NORTHUMBERLAND
Welcome; my lord。 What is the news? NORTHUMBERLAND。 First;
to thy sacred state wish I all happiness。 The next news is; I have to London
sent The heads of Salisbury; Spencer; Blunt; and Kent。 The manner of their
taking may appear At large discoursed in this paper here。
BOLINGBROKE。 We thank thee; gentle Percy; for thy pains; And to thy
worth will add right worthy gains。 Enter FITZWATER
FITZWATER。 My lord; I have from Oxford sent to London The
heads of Brocas and Sir Bennet Seely; Two of the dangerous consorted
traitors That sought at Oxford thy dire overthrow。 BOLINGBROKE。 Thy
pains; Fitzwater; shall not be forgot; Right noble is thy merit; well I wot。
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。 BOLINGBROKE。 Carlisle; this is your doom: Choose out some
secret place; some reverend room; More than thou hast; and with it joy thy
life; So as thou liv'st in peace; die free from strife; For though mine enemy
thou hast ever been; High sparks of honour in thee have I seen。
Enter EXTON; with attendants; hearing 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
Bordeaux; by me hither brought。 BOLINGBROKE。 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。 BOLINGBROKE。 They love not poison that do poison
need; Nor do I thee。 Though I did wish him dead; I hate the murderer; love
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him murdered。 The guilt of conscience take thou for thy labour; But
neither my good word nor princely favour; With Cain go wander thorough
shades of night; And never show thy head by day nor light。 Lords; I protest
my soul is full of woe That blood should sprinkle me to make me grow。
Come; mourn with me for what I do lament; And put on sullen black
incontinent。 I'll make a voyage to the Holy Land; To wash this blood off
from my guilty hand。 March sadly after; grace my mournings here In
weeping after this untimely bier。 Exeunt
THE END
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