How now! what means death in this rude assault?
Villain, thy own hand yields thy death's instrument.
Snatching an axe from a Servant and killing him
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 land.
Mount, mount, my soul! thy seat is up on high;
Whilst my gross flesh sinks downward, here to die.