Chapter III: Part 3

_Leices._ Be patient, good my lord, cease to lament;
Imagine Killingworth Castle were your court,
And that you lay for pleasure here a space,
Not of compulsion or necessity.
_K. Edw._ Leicester, if gentle words might comfort me,
Thy speeches long ago had eas'd my sorrows,
For kind and loving hast thou always been.
The griefs of private men are soon allay'd;
But not of kings. The forest deer, being struck,
Runs to an herb that closeth up the wounds:
But when the imperial lion's flesh is gor'd,
He rends and tears it with his wrathful paw,
[And], highly scorning that the lowly earth
Should drink his blood, mounts up to the air:
And so it fares with me, whose dauntless mind
Th' ambitious Mortimer would seek to curb,
And that unnatural queen, false Isabel,
That thus hath pent and mew'd me in a prison
For such outrageous passions cloy my soul,
As with the wings of rancour and disdain
Full oft[ten] am I soaring up to heaven,
To plain me to the gods against them both.
But when I call to mind I am a king,
Methinks I should revenge me of my wrongs,
That Mortimer and Isabel have done.
But what are kings, when regiment is gone,
But perfect shadows in a sunshine day?
My nobles rule; I bear the name of king,
I wear the crown; but am controll'd by them,
By Mortimer, and my unconstant queen,
Who spots my nuptial bed with infamy;
Whilst I am lodg'd within this cave of care,
Where sorrow at my elbow still attends,
To company my heart with sad laments,
That bleeds within me for this strange exchange.
But tell me, must I now resign my crown,
To make usurping Mortimer a king?
_Bish. of Win._ Your grace mistakes; it is for England's good,
And princely Edward's right, we crave the crown.
_K. Edw._ No, 'tis for Mortimer, not Edward's head
For he's a lamb, emcompassed by wolves,
Which in a moment will abridge his life.
But, if proud Mortimer do wear this crown,
Heavens turn it to a blaze of quenchless fire!
Or, like the snaky wreath of Tisiphon,
Engirt the temples of his hateful head!
So shall not England's vine be perished,
But Edward's name survive, though Edward dies.
_Leices._ My lord, why waste you thus the time away?
They stay your answer: will you yield your crown?
_K. Edw._ Ah, Leicester, weigh how hardly I can brook
To lose my crown and kingdom without cause;
To give ambitious Mortimer my right,
That, like a mountain, overwhelms my bliss;
In which extreme my mind here murder'd is!
But that the heavens appoint I must obey.--
Here, take my crown; the life of Edward too: [_Taking off the crown._
Two kings in England cannot reign at once.
But stay a while: let me be king till night,
That I may gaze upon this glittering crown;
So shall my eyes receive their last content,
My head, the latest honour due to it,
And jointly both yield up their wished right.
Continue ever, thou celestial sun;
Let never silent night possess this clime;
Stand still, you watches of the element;
All times and seasons, rest you at a stay,
That Edward may be still fair England's king!
But day's bright beams doth vanish fast away,
And needs I must resign my wished crown.
Inhuman creatures, nurs'd with tiger's milk,
Why gape you for your sovereign's overthrow?
My diadem, I mean, and guiltless life.
See, monsters, see! I'll wear my crown again.
[_Putting on the crown._
What, fear you not the fury of your king?--
But, hapless Edward, thou art fondly led;
They pass not for thy frowns as late they did,
But seek to make a new-elected king;
Which fills my mind with strange despairing thoughts,
Which thoughts are martyred with endless torments;
And in this torment comfort find I none,
But that I feel the crown upon my head;
And therefore let me wear it yet a while.
_Trus._ My, lord, the parliament must have present news;
And therefore say, will you resign or no?
[_The king rageth._
_K. Edw._ I'll not resign, but, whilst I live, [be king].
Traitors, be gone, and join you with Mortimer.
Elect, conspire, install, do what you will:
Their blood and yours shall seal these treacheries.
_Bish. of Win._ This answer we'll return; and so, farewell.
[_Going with Trussel._
_Leices._ Call them again, my lord, and speak them fair;
For, if they go, the prince shall lose his right.
_K. Edw._ Call thou them back; I have no power to speak.
_Leices._ My lord, the king is willing to resign.
_Bish. of Win._ If he be not, let him choose.
_K. Edw._ O, would I might! but heavens and earth conspire
To make me miserable. Here, receive my crown.
Receive it? no, these innocent hands of mine
Shall not be guilty of so foul a crime;
He of you all that most desires my blood,
And will be call'd the murderer of a king,
Take it. What, are you mov'd? pity you me?
Then send for unrelenting Mortimer,
And Isabel, whose eyes being turn'd to steel
Will sooner sparkle fire than shed a tear.
Yet stay; for, rather than I'll look on them,
Here, here! [_Gives the crown._]--Now, sweet God of heaven,
Make me despise this transitory pomp,
And sit fot aye enthronised in heaven!
Come, death, and with thy fingers close my eyes,
Or, if I live, let me forget myself!
_Bish. of Win._ My lord,--
_K. Edw._ Call me not lord; away, out of my sight!
Ah, pardon me! grief makes me lunatic.
Let not that Mortimer protect my son;
More safety there is in a tiger's jaws
Than his embracements. Bear this to the queen,
Wet with my tears, and dried again with sighs:
[_Gives a handkerchief._
If with the sight thereof she be not mov'd,
Return it back, and dip it in my blood.
Commend me to my son, and bid him rule
Better than I: yet how have I transgress'd,
Unless it be with too much clemency?
_Trus._ And thus, most humbly do we take our leave.
_K. Edw._ Farewell.
[_Exeunt the Bishop of Winchester and Trussel with the
crown._
I know the next news that they bring
Will be my death; and welcome shall it be:
To wretched men death is felicity.
_Leices._ Another post! what news brings he?

_Enter_ BERKELEY, _who gives a paper to_ LEICESTER.

_K. Edw._ Such news as I expect.--Come, Berkeley, come, And tell thy message to my naked breast. _Berk._ My lord, think not a thought so villanous Can harbour in a man of noble birth. To do your highness service and devoir, And save you from your foes, Berkeley would die. _Leices._ My lord, the council of the queen command That I resign my charge. _K. Edw._ And who must keep me now? Must you, my lord? _Berk._ Ay, my most gracious lord; so 'tis decreed. _K. Edw._ [_Taking the paper._] By Mortimer, whose name is written here! Well may I rent his name that rends my heart. [_Tears it._ This poor revenge hath something eas'd my mind: So may his limbs be torn as is this paper! Hear me, immortal Jove, and grant it too! _Berk._ Your grace must hence with me to Berkeley straight. _K. Edw._ Whither you will: all places are alike, And every earth is fit for burial. _Leices._ Favour him, my lord, as much as lieth in you. _Berk._ Even so betide my soul as I use him! _K. Edw._ Mine enemy hath pitied my estate, And that's the cause that I am now remov'd. _Berk._ And thinks your grace that Berkeley will be cruel? _K. Edw._ I know not; but of this am I assur'd, That death ends all, and I can die but once.-- Leicester, farewell. _Leices._ Not yet, my lord; I'll bear you on your way. [_Exeunt._

_Enter_ QUEEN ISABELLA _and the younger_ MORTIMER.

_Y. Mor._ Fair Isabel, now have we our desire;
The proud corrupters of the light-brain'd king
Have done their homage to the lofty gallows,
And he himself lies in captivity.
Be rul'd by me, and we will rule the realm:
In any case take heed of childish fear,
For now we hold an old wolf by the ears,
That, if he slip, will seize upon us both,
And gripe the sorer, being grip'd himself.
Think therefore, madam, that imports us much
To erect your son with all the speed we may,
And that I be protector over him:
For our behoof, 'twill bear the greater sway
Whenas a king's name shall be under-writ.
_Q. Isab._ Sweet Mortimer, the life of Isabel,
Be thou persuaded that I love thee well;
And therefore, so the prince my son be safe,
Whom I esteem as dear as these mine eyes,
Conclude against his father what thou wilt,
And I myself will willingly subscribe.
_Y. Mor._ First would I hear news he were depos'd,
And then let me alone to handle him.

_Enter_ Messenger.

Letters! from whence? _Mess._ From Killingworth, my lord? _Q. Isab._ How fares my lord the king? _Mess._ In health, madam, but full of pensiveness. _Q. Isab._ Alas, poor soul, would I could ease his grief!

_Enter the_ BISHOP OF WINCHESTER _with the crown._

Thanks, gentle Winchester.--
Sirrah, be gone. [_Exit Messenger._
_Bish. of Win._ The king hath willingly resign'd his crown.
_Q. Isab._ O, happy news! send for the prince my son.
_Bish. of Win._ Further, or this letter was seal'd, Lord Berkeley came,
So that he now is gone from Killingworth;
And we have heard that Edmund laid a plot
To set his brother free; nor more but so.
The Lord of Berkeley is so pitiful
As Leicester that had charge of him before.
_Q. Isab._ Then let some other be his guardian.
_Y. Mor._ Let me alone; here is the privy-seal,--
[_Exit the Bish. of Win._
Who's there? Call hither, Gurney and Matrevis.--
[_To Attendants within._
To dash the heavy-headed Edmund's drift,
Berkeley shall be discharg'd, the king remov'd,
And none but we shall know where he lieth.
_Q. Isab._ But, Mortimer, as long as he survives,
What safety rests for us or for my son?
_Y. Mor._ Speak, shall he presently be despatch'd and die?
_Q. Isab._ I would he were, so 'twere not by my means!

_Enter_ MATREVIS _and_ GURNEY.

_Y. Mor._ Enough.--Matrevis, write a letter presently
Unto the Lord of Berkeley from ourself,
That he resign the king to thee and Gurney;
And, when 'tis done, we will subscribe our name.
_Mat._ It shall be done, my lord. [_Writes._
_Y. Mor._ Gurney,--
_Gur._ My lord?
_Y. Mor._ As thou intend'st to rise by Mortimer,
Who now makes Fortune's wheel turn as he please,
Seek all the means thou canst to make him droop,
And neither give him kind word nor good look.
_Gur._ I warrant you, my lord.
_Y. Mor._ And this above the rest: because we hear
That Edmund casts to work his liberty,
Remove him still from place to place by night,
Till at the last he come to Killingworth,
And then from thence to Berkeley back again;
And by the way, to make him fret the more,
Speak curstly to him; and in any case
Let no man comfort him, if he chance to weep,
But amplify his grief with bitter words.
_Mat._ Fear not, my lord; we'll do as you command.
_Y. Mor._ So, now away! post thitherwards amain.
_Q. Isab._ Whither goes this letter? to my lord the king?
Commend me humbly to his majesty,
And tell him that I labour all in vain
To ease his grief and work his liberty;
And bear him this as witness of my love. [_Gives ring._
_Mat._ I will, madam. [_Exit with Gurney._
_Y. Mor._ Finely dissembled! do so still, sweet queen.
Here comes the young prince with the Earl of Kent.
_Q. Isab._ Something he whispers in his childish ears.
_Y. Mor._ If he have such access unto the prince,
Our plots and stratagems will soon be dash'd.
_Q. Isab._ Use Edmund friendly, as if all were well.

_Enter_ PRINCE EDWARD, _and_ KENT _talking with him._

_Y. Mor._ How fares my honourable Lord of Kent? _Kent._ In health, sweet Mortimer.--How fares your grace? _Q. Isab._ Well, if my lord your brother were enlarg'd. _Kent._ I hear of late he hath depos'd himself. _Q. Isab._ The more my grief. _Y. Mor._ And mine. _Kent._ Ah, they do dissemble! [_Aside._ _Q. Isab._ Sweet son, come hither; I must talk with thee. _Y. Mor._ You, being his uncle and the next of blood, Do look to be protector o'er the prince. _Kent._ Not I, my lord: who should protect the son, But she that gave him life? I mean the queen. _P. Edw._ Mother, persuade me not to wear the crown: Let him be king; I am too young to reign. _Q. Isab._ But be content, seeing 'tis his highness' pleasure. _P. Edw._ Let me but see him first, and then I will. _Kent._ Ay, do, sweet nephew. _Q. Isab._ Brother, you know it is impossible. _P. Edw._ Why, is he dead? _Q. Isab._ No, God forbid! _Kent._ I would those words proceeded from your heart! _Y. Mor._ Inconstant Edmund, dost thou favour him, That wast a cause of his imprisonment? _Kent._ The more cause now have I to make amends. _Y. Mor._ [_aside to_ Q. ISAB.] I tell thee, 'tis not meet that one so false Should come about the person of a prince.-- My lord, he hath betray'd the king his brother, And therefore trust him not. _P. Edw._ But he repents, and sorrows for it now. _Q. Isab._ Come, son, and go with this gentle lord and me. _P. Edw._ With you I will, but not with Mortimer. _Y. Mor._ Why, youngling, 'sdain'st thou so of Mortimer? Then I will carry thee by force away. _P. Edw._ Help, uncle Kent! Mortimer will wrong me. _Q. Isab._ Brother Edmund, strive not; we are his friends; Isabel is nearer than the Earl of Kent. _Kent._ Sister, Edward is my charge; redeem him. _Q. Isab._ Edward is my son, and I will keep him. _Kent._ Mortimer shall know that he hath wronged me. Hence will I haste to Killingworth Castle, And rescue aged Edward from his foes, To be reveng'd on Mortimer and thee. [_Aside._ [_Exeunt, on the one side, Queen Isabella, Prince Edward and the younger Mortimer; on other other, Kent._

_Enter_ MATREVIS, GURNEY, _and_ Soldiers, _with_
KING EDWARD.

_Mat._ My lord, be not pensive; we are your friends:
Men are ordain'd to live in misery;
Therefore, come; dalliance dangereth our lives.
_K. Edw._ Friends, whither must unhappy Edward go?
Will hateful Mortimer appoint no rest?
Must I be vexed like the nightly bird,
Whose sight is loathsome to all winged fowls?
When will the fury of his mind assuage?
When will his heart be satisfied with blood?
If mine will serve, unbowel straight this breast,
And give my heart to Isabel and him:
It is the chiefest mark they level at.
_Gur._Not so, my liege: the queen hath given this charge,
To keep your grace in safety:
Your passions make your dolours to increase.
_K. Edw._ This usage makes my misery increase.
But can my air of life continue long,
When all my senses are annoy'd with stench?
Within a dungeon England's king is kept,
Where I am starv'd for want of sustenance;
My daily diet is heart-breaking sobs,
That almost rent the closet of my heart:
Thus lives old Edward not reliev'd by any,
And so must die, though pitied by many.
O, water, gentle friends, to cool my thirst,
And clear my body from foul excrements!
_Mat._ Here's channel-water, as our charge is given:
Sit down, for we'll be barbers to your grace.
_K. Edw._ Traitors, away! what, will you murder me,
Of choke your sovereign with puddle-water?
_Gur._ No, but wash your face, and shave away your beard,
Lest you be known, and so be rescued.
_Mat._ Why strive you thus? your labour is in vain.
_K. Edw._ The wren may strive against the lion's strength,
But all in vain: so vainly do I strive
To seek for mercy at a tyrant's hand.
[_They wash him with puddle-water, and shave his beard
away._
Immortal powers, that know the painful cares
That wait upon my poor distressed soul,
O, level all your looks upon these daring men
That wrong their liege and sovereign, England's king!
O Gaveston, it is for thee that I am wrong'd!
For me both thou and both the Spensers died;
And for your sakes a thousand wrongs I'll take.
The Spensers' ghosts, wherever they remain,
Wish well to mine; then, tush, for them I'll die.
_Mat._ 'Twixt theirs and yours shall be no enmity.
Come, come, away! Now put the torches out:
We'll enter in by darkness to Killingworth.
_Gur._ How now! who comes there?

_Enter_ KENT.

_Mat._ Guard the king sure: it is the Earl of Kent. _K. Edw._ O gentle brother, help to rescue me! _Mat._ Keep them asunder; thrust in the king. _Kent._ Soldiers, let me but talk to him one word. _Gur._ Lay hands upon the earl for his assault. _Kent._ Lay down your weapons, traitors! yield the king! _Mat._ Edmund, yield thou thyself, or thou shalt die. _Kent._ Base villains, wherefore do you gripe me thus? _Gur._ Bind him, and so convey him to the court. _Kent._ Where is the court but here? here is the king And I will visit him: why stay you me? _Mat._ The court is where Lord Mortimer remains: Thither shall your honour go; and so, farewell. [_Exeunt Matrevis and Gurney with King Edward._ _Kent._ O, miserable is that common-weal, Where lords keep courts, and kings are lock'd in prison! _First Sold._ Wherefore stay we? on, sirs, to the court! _Kent._ Ay, lead me whither you will, even to my death, Seeing that my brother cannot be releas'd. [_Exeunt._

_Enter the younger_ MORTIMER.

_Y. Mor._ The king must die, or Mortimer goes down;
The commons now begin to pity him:
Yet he that is the cause of Edward's death,
Is sure to pay for it when his son's of age;
And therefore will I do it cunningly.
This letter, written by a friend of ours,
Contains his death, yet bids then save his life;
[_Reads._
_Edwardum occidere nolite timere, bonum est,
Fear not to kill the king, 'tis good he die:_
But read it thus, and that's another sense;
_Edwardum occidere nolite, timere bonum est,
Kill not the king, 'tis good to fear the worst._
Unpointed as it is, thus shall it go.
That, being dead, if it chance to be found,
Matrevis and the rest may bear the blame,
And we be quit that caus'd it to be done.
Within this room is lock'd the messenger
That shall convey it, and perform the rest;
And, by a secret token that he bears,
Shall he be murder'd when the deed is done.--
Lightborn, come forth!

_Enter_ LIGHTBORN.

Art thou so resolute as thou wast?
_Light._ What else, my lord? and far more resolute.
_Y. Mor._ And hast thou cast how to accomplish it?
_Light._ Ay, ay; and none shall know which way he died.
_Y. Mor._ But at his looks, Lightborn, thou wilt relent.
_Light._ Relent! ha, ha! I use much to relent.
_Y. Mor._ Well, do it bravely, and be secret.
_Light._ You shall not need to give instructions;
'Tis not the first time I have kill'd a man:
I learn'd in Naples how to poison flowers;
To strangle with a lawn thrust down the throat;
To pierce the wind pipe with a needle's point;
Or, whilst one is asleep, to take a quill,
And blow a little powder in his ears;
Or open his mouth, and pour quick-silver down.
But yet I have a braver way than these.
_Y. Mor._ What's that?
_Light._ Nay, you shall pardon me; none shall know my tricks.
_Y. Mor._ I care not how it is, so it be not spied.
Deliver this to Gurney and Matrevis: [_Gives letter._
At every ten-mile end thou hast a horse:
Take this [_Gives money_]: away, and never see me more!
_Light._ No?
_Y. Mor._ No; unless thou bring me news of Edward's death.
_Light._ That will I quickly do. Farewell, my lord. [_Exit._
_Y. Mor._ The prince I rule, the queen do I command,
And with a lowly congé to the ground
The proudest lords salute me as I pass;
I seal, I cancel, I do what I will.
Fear'd am I more than lov'd;--let me be fear'd,
And, when I frown, make all the court look pale.
I view the prince with Aristarchus' eyes,
Whose looks were as a breeching to a boy.
They thrust upon me the protectorship,
And sue to me for that that I desire;
While at the council-table, grave enough,
And not unlike a bashful puritan,
First I complain of imbecility,
Saying it is _onus quam gravissimum;_
Till, being interrupted by my friends,
_Suscepi_ that _provinciam_, as they term it;
And, to conclude, I am Protector now.
Now all is sure: the queen and Mortimer
Shall rule the realm, the king; and none rule us.
Mine enemies will I plague, my friends advance;
And what I list command who dare control?
_Major sum quàm cui possit fortuna nocere:_
And that this be the coronation-day,
It pleaseth me and Isabel the queen. [_Trumpets within._
The trumpets sound; I must go take my place.

_Enter_ KING EDWARD THE THIRD, QUEEN ISABELLA, _the_
ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY, Champion, _and_ Nobles.

_Archb. of Cant._ Long live King Edward, by the grace of God King of England and Lord of Ireland! _Cham._ If any Christian, Heathen, Turk, or Jew, Dares but affirm that Edward's not true king, And will avouch his saying with the sword, I am the Champion that will combat him. _Y. Mor._ None comes: sound, trumpets! [_Trumpets._ _K. Edw. Third._ Champion, here's to thee. [_Gives purse._ _Q. Isab._ Lord Mortimer, now take him to your charge.

_Enter_ Soldiers _with_ KENT _prisoner._

_Y. Mor._ What traitor have we there with blades and bills? _First Sold._ Edmund the Earl of Kent. _K. Edw. Third._ What hath he done? _First Sold._ 'A would have taken the king away perforce, As we were bringing him to Killingworth. _Y. Mor._ Did you attempt his rescue, Edmund? speak. _Kent._ Mortimer, I did: he is our king, And thou compell'st this prince to wear the crown. _Y. Mor._ Strike off his head: he shall have martial law. _Kent._ Strike off my head! base traitor, I defy thee! _K. Edw. Third._ My lord, he is my uncle, and shall live. _Y. Mor._ My lord, he is your enemy, and shall die. _Kent._ Stay, villains! _K. Edw. Third._ Sweet mother, if I cannot pardon him, Entreat my Lord Protector for his life. _Q. Isab._ Son, be content: I dare not speak a word. _K. Edw. Third._ Nor I; and yet methinks I should command: But, seeing I cannot, I'll entreat for him.-- My lord, if you will let my uncle live, I will requite it when I come to age. _Y. Mor._ 'Tis for your highness' good and for the realm's.-- How often shall I bid you bear him hence? _Kent._ Art thou king? must I die at thy command? _Y. Mor._ At our command.--Once more, away with him! _Kent._ Let me but stay and speak; I will not go: Either my brother or his son is king, And none of both them thirst for Edmund's blood: And therefore, soldiers, whither will you hale me? [_Soldiers hale Kent away, and carry him to be beheaded._ _K. Edw. Third._ What safety may I look for at his hands, If that my uncle shall be murder'd thus? _Q. Isab._ Fear not, sweet boy; I'll guard thee from thy foes: Had Edmund liv'd, he would have sought thy death. Come, son, we'll ride a-hunting in the park. _K. Edw. Third._ And shall my uncle Edmund ride with us? _Q. Isab._ He is a traitor; think not on him: come. [_Exeunt._

_Enter_ MATREVIS _and_ GURNEY.

_Mat._ Gurney, I wonder the king dies not,
Being in a vault up to the knees in water,
To which the channels of the castle run,
From whence a damp continually ariseth,
That were enough to poison any man,
Much more a king, brought up so tenderly.
_Gur._ And so do I, Matrevis: yesternight
I open'd but the door to throw him meat,
And I was almost stifled with the savour.
_Mat._ He hath a body able to endure
More than we can inflict: and therefore now
Let us assail his mind another while.
_Gur._ Send for him out thence, and I will anger him.
_Mat._ But stay; who's this?

_Enter_ LIGHTBORN.

_Light._ My Lord Protector greets you. [_Gives letter._
_Gur._ What's there? I know not how to construe it.
_Mat._ Gurney, it was left unpointed for the nonce;
_Edwardum occidere nolite timere,_
That's his meaning.
_Light._ Know you this token? I must have the king. [_Gives token._
_Mat._ Ay, stay a while; thou shalt have answer straight.--
This villain's sent to make away the king.
_Gur._ I thought as much.
_Mat._ And, when the murder's done,
See how he must be handled for his labour,--
_Pereat iste!_ Let him have the king;
What else?--Here is the keys, this is the lake:
Do as you are commanded by my lord.
_Light._ I know what I must do. Get you away:
Yet be not far off; I shall need your help:
See that in the next room I have a fire,
And get me a spit, and let it be red-hot.
_Mat._ Very well.
_Gur._ Need you anything besides?
_Light._ What else? a table and a feather-bed.
_Gur._ That's all?
_Light._ Ay, ay: so, when I call you, bring it in.
_Mat._ Fear not thou that.
_Gur._ Here's a light to go into the dungeon.
[_Gives light to Lightborn, and then exit with Matrevis._
_Light._ So, now.
Must I about this gear: ne'er was there any
So finely handled as this king shall be.--
Foh, here's a place indeed with all my heart!
_K. Edw._ Who's there? what light is that? wherefore com'st thou?
_Light._ To comfort you, and bring you joyful news.
_K. Edw._ Small comfort finds poor Edward in thy looks:
Villain, I know thou com'st to murder me.
_Light._ To murder you, my most gracious lord?
Far is it from my heart to do you harm.
The queen sent me to see how you were us'd,
For she relents at this your misery:
And what eye can refrain from shedding tears,
To see a king in this most piteous state?
_K. Edw._ Weep'st thou already? list a while to me,
And then thy heart, were it as Gurney's is,
Or as Matrevis', hewn from the Caucasus,
Yet will it melt ere I have done my tale.
This dungeon where they keep me is the sink
Wherein the filth of all the castle falls.
_Light._ O villains!
_K. Edw._ And there, in mire and puddle, have I stood
This ten days' space; and, lest that I should sleep,
One plays continually upon a drum;
They give me bread and water, being a king;
So that, for want of sleep and sustenance,
My mind's distemper'd, and my body's numb'd,
And whether I have limbs or no I know not.
O, would my blood dropp'd out from every vein,
As doth this water from my tatter'd robes!
Tell Isabel the queen, I look'd not thus,
When for her sake I ran at tilt in France,
And there unhors'd the Duke of Cleremont.
_Light._ O, speak no more, my lord! this breaks my heart.
Lie on this bed, and rest yourself a while.
_K. Edw._ These looks of thine can harbour naught but death;
I see my tragedy written in thy brows.
Yet stay a while; forbear thy bloody hand,
And let me see the stroke before it comes,
That even then when I shall lose my life,
My mind may be more steadfast on my God.
_Light._ What means your highness to mistrust me thus?
_K. Edw._ What mean'st thou to dissemble with me thus?
_Light._ These hands were never stain'd with innocent blood,
Nor shall they now be tainted with a king's.
_K. Edw._ Forgive my thought for having such a thought.
One jewel have I left; receive thou this: [_Gives jewel._
Still fear I, and I know not what's the cause,
But every joint shakes as I give it thee.
O, if thou harbour'st murder in thy heart,
Let this gift change thy mind, and save thy soul!
Know that I am a king: O, at that name
I feel a hell of grief! where is my crown?
Gone, gone! and do I [still] remain alive?
_Light._ You're overwatch'd, my lord: lie down and rest.
_K. Edw._ But that grief keeps me waking, I should sleep;
For not these ten days have these eye-lids clos'd.
Now, as I speak, they fall; and yet with fear
Open again. O, wherefore sitt'st thou here?
_Light._ If you mistrust me, I'll be gone, my lord.
_K. Edw._ No, no; for, if thou mean'st to murder me,
Thou wilt return again; and therefore stay. [_Sleeps._
_Light._ He sleeps.
_K. Edw._ [_waking_] O, let me not die yet! O, stay a while!
_Light._ How now, my lord!
_K. Edw._ Something still buzzeth in mine ears,
And tells me, if I sleep, I never wake:
This fear is that which makes me tremble thus;
And therefore tell me, wherefore art thou come?
_Light._ To rid thee of thy life.--Matrevis, come!

_Enter_ MATREVIS _and_ GURNEY.

_K. Edw._ I am too weak and feeble to resist.--
Assist me, sweet God, and receive my soul!
_Light._ Run for the table.
_K. Edw._ O, spare me, or despatch me in a trice!
[_Matrevis brings in a table. King Edward is murdered
by holding him down on the bed with the table, and
stamping on it._
_Light._ So, lay the table down, and stamp on it,
But not too hard, lest that you bruise his body.
_Mat._ I fear me that this cry will raise the town,
And therefore let us take horse and away.
_Light._ Tell me, sirs, was it not bravely done?
_Gur._ Excellent well: take this for thy reward.
[_Stabs Lightborn, who dies._
Come, let us cast the body in the moat,
And bear the king's to Mortimer our lord:
Away! [_Exeunt with the bodies._

_Enter the younger_ MORTIMER _and_ MATREVIS.

_Y. Mor._ Is't done, Matrevis, and the murderer dead?
_Mat._ Ay, my good lord: I would it were undone!
_Y. Mor._ Matrevis, if thou now grow'st penitent,
I'll be thy ghostly father; therefore choose,
Whether thou wilt be secret in this,
Or else die by the hand of Mortimer.
_Mat._ Gurney, my lord, is fled, and will, I fear,
Betray us both; therefore let me fly.
_Y. Mor._ Fly to the savages!
_Mat._ I humbly thank your honour. [_Exit._
_Y. Mor._ As for myself, I stand as Jove's huge tree,
And others are but shrubs compar'd to me:
All tremble at my name, and I fear none:
Let's see who dare impeach me for his death!

_Enter_ QUEEN ISABELLA.

_Q. Isab._ Ah, Mortimer, the king my son hath news,
His father's dead, and we have murder'd him!
_Y. Mor._ What if he have? the king is yet a child.
_Q. Isab._ Ay, but he tears his hair, and wrings his hands,
And vows to be reveng'd upon us both.
Into the council-chamber he is gone,
To crave the aid and succour of his peers.
Ay me, see where he comes, and they with him!
Now, Mortimer, begins our tragedy.

_Enter_ KING EDWARD THE THIRD, Lords, _and_ Attendants.

_First Lord._ Fear not, my lord; know that you are a king.
_K. Edw. Third._ Villain!--
_Y. Mor._ Ho, now, my lord!
_K. Edw. Third._ Think not that I am frighted with thy words:
My father's murder'd through thy treachery;
And thou shalt die, and on his mournful hearse
Thy hateful and accursed head shall lie,
To witness to the world that by thy means
His kingly body was too soon interr'd.
_Q. Isab._ Weep not, sweet son.
_K. Edw. Third._ Forbid not me to weep; he was my father;
And had you lov'd him half so well as I,
You could not bear his death thus patiently:
But you, I fear, conspir'd with Mortimer.
_First Lord._ Why speak you not unto my lord the king?
_Y. Mor._ Because I think scorn to be accus'd.
Who is the man dares say I murder'd him?
_K. Edw. Third._ Traitor, in me my loving father speaks,
And plainly saith, 'twas thou that murder'dst him.
_Y. Mor._ But hath your grace no other proof than this?
_K. Edw. Third._ Yes, if this be the hand of Mortimer.
[_Showing letter._
_Y. Mor._ False Gurney hath betray'd me and himself.
[_Aside to Queen Isabella._
_Q. Isab._ I fear'd as much: murder can not be hid.
_Y. Mor._ It is my hand; what gather you by this?
_K. Edw. Third._ That thither thou didst send a murderer.
_Y. Mor._ What murderer? bring forth the man I sent.
_K. Edw. Third._ Ah, Mortimer, thou know'st that he is slain!
And so shalt thou be too.--Why stays he here?
Bring him unto a hurdle, drag him forth;
Hang him, I say, and set his quarters up:
And bring his head back presently to me.
_Q. Isab._ For my sake, sweet son, pity Mortimer!
_Y. Mor._ Madam, entreat not: I will rather die
Than sue for life unto a paltry boy.
_K. Edw. Third._ Hence with the traitor, with the murderer!
_Y. Mor._ Base Fortune, now I see, that in thy wheel
There is a point, to which when men aspire,
They tumble headlong down: that point I touch'd,
And, seeing there was no place to mount up higher,
Why should I grieve at my declining fall?--
Farewell, fair queen: weep not for Mortimer,
That scorns the world, and, as a traveller,
Goes to discover countries yet unknown.
_K. Edw. Third._ What, suffer you the traitor to delay?
[_Exit the younger Mortimer with First Lord and
some of the Attendants._
_Q. Isab._ As thou receivest thy life from me,
Spill not the blood of gentle Mortimer!
_K. Edw. Third._ This argues that you spilt my father's blood,
Else would you not entreat for Mortimer.
_Q. Isab._ I spill his blood! no.
_K. Edw. Third._ Ay, madam, you; for so the rumour runs.
_Q. Isab._ That rumour is untrue: for loving thee,
Is this report rais'd on poor Isabel.
_K. Edw. Third._ I do not think her so unnatural.
_Sec. Lord._ My lord, I fear me it will prove too true.
_K. Edw. Third._ Mother, you are suspected for his death
And therefore we commit you to the Tower,
Till further trial may be made thereof.
If you be guilty, though I be your son,
Think not to find me slack or pitiful.
_Q. Isab._ Nay, to my death; for too long have I liv'd,
Whenas my son thinks to abridge my days.
_K. Edw. Third._ Away with her! her words enforce these tears,
And I shall pity her, if she speak again.
_Q. Isab._ Shall I not mourn for my beloved lord?
And with the rest accompany him to his grave.
_Sec. Lord._ Thus, madam, 'tis the king's will you shall hence.
_Q. Isab._ He hath forgotten me: stay; I am his mother.
_Sec. Lord._ That boots not; therefore, gentle madam, go.
_Q. Isab._ Then come, sweet death, and rid me of this grief!
[_Exit with Second Lord and some of the Attendants._

_Re-enter_ First Lord, _with the head of the younger_
MORTIMER.

_First Lord._ My lord, here is the head of Mortimer.
_K. Edw. Third._ Go fetch my father's hearse, where it shall lie;
And bring my funeral robes. [_Exeunt Attendants._
Accursed head,
Could I have rul'd thee then, as I do now,
Thou hadst not hatch'd this monstrous treachery!--
Here comes the hearse: help me to mourn, my lords.

_Re-enter_ Attendants, _with the hearse and funeral robes._

Sweet father, here unto thy murder'd ghost
I offer up the wicked traitor's head;
And let these tears, distilling from mine eyes,
Be witness of my grief and innocency. [_Exeunt._