Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
Rich. The diuell take Henrie of Lancaster, and thee;
Rich. Patience is stale, and I am weary of it.
Keep. Keep.
Keep. Helpe, helpe, helpe.
Keep. Enter Exton and Seruants.
Ri. Ri.
Ri. How now? what meanes Death in this rude assalt?
Ri. Villaine, thine owne hand yeelds thy deaths instrument,
Ri. Go thou and fill another roome in hell.
Ri. Exton strikes him downe.
Ri. That hand shall burne in neuer‑quenching fire,
Ri. That staggers thus my person. Exton, thy fierce hand,
Ri. Hath with the Kings blood, stain'd the Kings own land.
Ri. Mount, mount my soule, thy seate is vp on high,
Ri. Whil'st my grosse flesh sinkes downward, heere to dye.
Exton. Exton.
Exton. As full of Valor, as of Royall blood,
Exton. Both haue I spilt: Oh would the deed were good.
Exton. For now the diuell, that told me I did well,
Exton. Sayes, that this deede is chronicled in hell.