Shakespeare's First Folio Part 285

Groo. Haile Royall Prince

Rich. Thankes n.o.ble Peere, The cheapest of vs, is ten groates too deere.

What art thou? And how com'st thou hither?

Where no man euer comes, but that sad dogge That brings me food, to make misfortune liue?

Groo. I was a poore Groome of thy Stable (King) When thou wer't King: who trauelling towards Yorke, With much adoo, at length haue gotten leaue To looke vpon my (sometimes Royall) masters face.

O how it yern'd my heart, when I beheld In London streets, that Coronation day, When Bullingbrooke rode on Roane Barbary, That horse, that thou so often hast bestrid, That horse, that I so carefully haue drest

Rich. Rode he on Barbary? Tell me gentle Friend, How went he vnder him?

Groo. So proudly, as if he had disdain'd the ground

Rich. So proud, that Bullingbrooke was on his backe; That Iade hath eate bread from my Royall hand.

This hand hath made him proud with clapping him.

Would he not stumble? Would he not fall downe (Since Pride must haue a fall) and breake the necke Of that proud man, that did vsurpe his backe?

Forgiuenesse horse: Why do I raile on thee, Since thou created to be aw'd by man Was't borne to beare? I was not made a horse, And yet I beare a burthen like an a.s.se, Spur-gall'd, and tyrd by iauncing Bullingbrooke.

Enter Keeper with a Dish.

Keep. Fellow, giue place, heere is no longer stay

Rich. If thou loue me, 'tis time thou wer't away

Groo. What my tongue dares not, that my heart shall say.

Enter.

Keep. My Lord, wilt please you to fall too?

Rich. Taste of it first, as thou wer't wont to doo

Keep. My Lord I dare not: Sir Pierce of Exton, Who lately came from th' King, commands the contrary

Rich. The diuell take Henrie of Lancaster, and thee; Patience is stale, and I am weary of it

Keep. Helpe, helpe, helpe.

Enter Exton and Seruants.

Ri. How now? what meanes Death in this rude a.s.salt?

Villaine, thine owne hand yeelds thy deaths instrument, Go thou and fill another roome in h.e.l.l.

Exton strikes him downe.

That hand shall burne in neuer-quenching fire, That staggers thus my person. Exton, thy fierce hand, Hath with the Kings blood, stain'd the Kings own land.

Mount, mount my soule, thy seate is vp on high, Whil'st my grosse flesh sinkes downward, heere to dye

Exton. As full of Valor, as of Royall blood, Both haue I spilt: Oh would the deed were good.

For now the diuell, that told me I did well, Sayes, that this deede is chronicled in h.e.l.l.

This dead King to the liuing King Ile beare, Take hence the rest, and giue them buriall heere.

Enter.

Scoena Quinta.

Flourish. Enter Bullingbrooke, Yorke, with other Lords & attendants.

Bul. Kinde Vnkle Yorke, the latest newes we heare, Is that the Rebels haue consum'd with fire Our Towne of Cicester in Gloucesters.h.i.+re, But whether they be tane or slaine, we heare not.

Enter Northumberland.

Welcome my Lord: What is the newes?

Nor. First to thy Sacred State, wish I all happinesse: The next newes is, I haue to London sent The heads of Salsbury, Spencer, Blunt, and Kent: The manner of their taking may appeare At large discoursed in this paper heere

Bul. We thank thee gentle Percy for thy paines, And to thy worth will adde right worthy gaines.

Enter Fitzwaters.

Fitz. My Lord, I haue from Oxford sent to London, The heads of Broccas, and Sir Bennet Seely, Two of the dangerous consorted Traitors, That sought at Oxford, thy dire ouerthrow

Bul. Thy paines Fitzwaters shall not be forgot, Right n.o.ble is thy merit, well I wot.

Enter Percy and Carlile.

Per. The grand Conspirator, Abbot of Westminster, With clog of Conscience, and sowre Melancholly, Hath yeelded vp his body to the graue: But heere is Carlile, liuing to abide Thy Kingly doome, and sentence of his pride

Bul. Carlile, this is your doome: Choose out some secret place, some reuerend roome More then thou hast, and with it ioy thy life: So as thou liu'st in peace, dye free from strife: For though mine enemy, thou hast euer beene, High sparkes of Honor in thee haue I seene.

Enter Exton with a Coffin.

Exton. Great King, within this Coffin I present Thy buried feare. Heerein all breathlesse lies The mightiest of thy greatest enemies Richard of Burdeaux, by me hither brought

Bul. Exton, I thanke thee not, for thou hast wrought A deede of Slaughter, with thy fatall hand, Vpon my head, and all this famous Land.

Ex.

From your owne mouth my Lord, did I this deed

Bul. They loue not poyson, that do poyson neede, Nor do I thee: though I did wish him dead, I hate the Murtherer, loue him murthered.

The guilt of conscience take thou for thy labour, But neither my good word, nor Princely fauour.

With Caine go wander through the shade of night, And neuer shew thy head by day, nor light.

Lords, I protest my soule is full of woe, That blood should sprinkle me, to make me grow.

Come mourne with me, for that I do lament, And put on sullen Blacke incontinent: Ile make a voyage to the Holy-land, To wash this blood off from my guilty hand.

March sadly after, grace my mourning heere, In weeping after this vntimely Beere.

Exeunt.

FINIS. The life and death of King Richard the Second.

The First Part of Henry the Fourth

with the Life and Death of Henry Sirnamed Hot-Spvrre

Actus Primus. Scoena Prima.

Enter the King, Lord Iohn of Lancaster, Earle of Westmerland, with others.