Death of Richard II
King Richard II, deposed and imprisoned, faces his final moments as Sir Piers Exton and guards enter his cell to assassinate him under orders from Henry IV.
Setting
A cold, stone-walled chamber in Pontefract Castle, dimly lit and sparsely furnished. The room is small, with a high ceiling and narrow windows barred with iron. The thick stone walls retain the winter chill, and the air is damp.
Characters
Richard II
primary
A man in his early thirties, tall and slender with a regal bearing. His once-fair complexion has paled from lack of sunlight, and his golden-brown hair is unkempt, falling past his shoulders. His deep-set blue eyes, though weary, still carry a trace of royal authority. His hands, once adorned with rings, are now bare and marked by the chill of the stone chamber.
Sir Piers Exton
primary
A tall, broad-shouldered knight in his late 30s, with a weathered face marked by years of military service. His dark brown hair is cropped short, and his piercing gray eyes carry a cold, calculating gaze. His hands are calloused, and he moves with the disciplined grace of a seasoned warrior.
Guard Captain
secondary
A middle-aged man with a broad, muscular frame, honed from years of military service. His face is weathered, with deep-set eyes and a prominent scar running from his left temple to his jawline, a testament to past battles. His short, dark hair is streaked with grey, and his thick beard is neatly trimmed.
Guard
background
A broad-shouldered man in his late 30s with weathered skin, a thick beard, and a no-nonsense expression. His hands are calloused from years of wielding weapons, and his stance is rigid with military discipline. His dark brown eyes are alert but weary, reflecting long hours of standing watch.
Dialog
Richard II
The winter sun mocks me through these bars, as if to remind me that even the heavens have turned their face from my wretched fate.
Sir Piers Exton
Your Majesty, it is not the heavens you should fear, but the hand of men who now hold your fate.
Richard II
Do not call me 'Majesty,' you who have knelt to a usurper. A title stripped is a crown shattered—yet my blood remains royal, even in this cell.
Sir Piers Exton
Royal blood may stain the stone as easily as any other. Pray God forgives you your sins before the night is done.
Richard II
Then let God be my judge, not Henry, and not you—a knight who trades honor for a murderer's wages.