Boy!
[♦] Page. My lord?
K. Rich. Know’st thou not any whom corrupting gold
[35] Would tempt unto a close exploit of death?
[♦] Page. My lord, I know a discontented gentleman,
[♦] Whose humble means match not his haughty mind:
Gold were as good as twenty orators,
And will, no doubt, tempt him to any thing.
K. Rich. What is his name?
[40] Page. His name, my lord, is Tyrrel.