Good day, my lord. What, at your book so hard?

Richard
Good day, my lord. What, at your book so hard?
King Henry
AmplificationAy, my good lord—“my lord,” I should say rather.
’Tis sin to flatter; “good” was little better:
“Good Gloucester” and “good devil” were alike,
And both preposterous: therefore, not “good lord.”[/tooltip]
Richard, to Lieutenant
Sirrah, leave us to ourselves; we must confer.
   Lieutenant exits.
King Henry
So flies the reckless shepherd from the wolf;
So first the harmless sheep doth yield his fleece
And next his throat unto the butcher’s knife.
What scene of death hath Roscius now to act?
Richard
Suspicion always haunts the guilty mind;
The thief doth fear each bush an officer.
King Henry
The bird that hath been limèd in a bush,
With trembling wings misdoubteth every bush;
And I, the hapless male to one sweet bird,
Have now the fatal object in my eye
Where my poor young was limed, was caught, and killed.
Richard
Why, what a peevish fool was that of Crete
That taught his son the office of a fowl!
And yet, for all his wings, the fool was drowned.
King Henry
I Daedalus, my poor boy Icarus,
Thy father Minos, that denied our course;
The sun that seared the wings of my sweet boy
Thy brother Edward, and thyself the sea
Whose envious gulf did swallow up his life.Allusion
Ah, kill me with thy weapon, not with words!
My breast can better brook thy dagger’s point
Than can my ears that tragic history.
But wherefore dost thou come? Is ’t for my life?
Richard
Think’st thou I am an executioner?
King Henry
A persecutor I am sure thou art.
If murdering innocents be executing,
Why, then, thou art an executioner.