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; 92
And yet I bear a burden like an ass,
Spurr'd, gall'd, and tir'd by jauncing Bolingbroke.
Enter one to Richard with meat.
Keep. [To the Groom.] Fellow, give place; here is no longer stay.
K. Rich. If thou love me, 'tis time thou wert away. 96
Groom. What my tongue dares not, that my heart shall say. Exit Groom.
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 Ex- 100
ton, 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. 104
Keep. Help, help, help!
The murderers rush in.
K. Rich. How now! what means death in this rude assault?
Villain, thine own hand yields thy death's instrument.
[Snatching a weapon and killing one.]
Go thou and fill another room in hell. 108
[He kills another.] Here Exton strikes him down.
That hand shall burn in never-quenching fire
94 jauncing: hard-riding
108 room: place
