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K. Rich. If thou love me, 'tis time thou wert away. Groom. What my tongue dares not, that my heart shall
Keep. My lord, wilt 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. [Beats the Keeper.
Keep. Help, help, help!
Enter EXTON and Servants, armed.
K. Rich. How now! what means death in this rude
Villain, thine 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
Mount, mount, my soul! thy seat is up on high;
Whilst my gross flesh sinks downward, here to die. [Dies.
Both have I spilt ;-0, would the deed were good!
A Room in the Castle.
Flourish. Enter BOLINGBROKE as King, YORK, Lords, and Attendants.
Boling. Kind uncle York, the latest news we hear Is that the rebels have consum'd with fire
Our town of Cicester in Glostershire;
But whether they be ta'en or slain we hear not.
Welcome, my lord: what is the news?
North. 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:
[Presenting a paper. Boling. We thank thee, gentle Percy, for thy pains; And to thy worth will add right worthy gains.
Fitz. My lord, I have from Oxford sent to London
Boling. Thy pains, Fitzwater, shall not be forgot;
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.
Choose out some secret place, some reverend room,
Enter EXTON, with Attendants, bearing a coffin.
The mightiest of thy greatest enemies,
Richard of Bordeaux, by me hither brought.
Boling. 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. Boling. They love not poison that do poison need, Nor do I thee: though I did wish him dead,
I hate the murderer, love him murdered.
The guilt of conscience take thou for thy labour,
That blood should sprinkle me to make me grow:
Come, mourn with me for that I do lament,
To wash this blood off from my guilty hand:-
KING HENRY THE FOURTH.
PRINCE JOHN of Lancaster,} Sons to the KING.
EARL OF WESTMORELAND, Friends to the KING.
THOMAS PERCY, Earl of Worcester.
HENRY PERCY, Earl of Northumberland.
HENRY PERCY, surnamed HOTSPUR, his Son.
SCROOP, Archbishop of York.
SIR MICHAEL, a Friend to the Archbishop.
SIR RICHARD VERNON.
SIR JOHN FALSTAFF.
LADY PERCY, Wife to HOTSPUR, and Sister to MORTIMER. LADY MORTIMER, Daughter to GLENDOWER, and Wife to MORTIMER.
MRS. QUICKLY, Hostess of a Tavern in Eastcheap.
Lords, Officers, Sheriff, Vintner, Chamberlain, Drawers, Two Carriers, Travellers, and Attendants.