Page 2965 - Shakespeare - Vol. 1

Great King, within this coffin I present [30] Exeunt.
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 [35]
Upon my head and all this famous land.

EXT ON

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 him murderèd. [40]
The guilt of conscience take thou for thy labour,
By neither my good word nor princely favour.
With Cain go wander through shades of night,
And never show thy head by day nor light.
Lords, I protest, my soul is full of woe [45]
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. [50]
March sadly after; grace my mournings here
In weeping after this untimely bier.

Finis