Thy speeches long ago had eased my sorrows;
For kind and loving hast thou always been.
The griefs of private men are soon allayed,
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 gored,
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
The ambitious Mortimer would seck to curb,
And that unnatural queen, false Isabel,
That thus hath pent and mewed me in a prison:
For such outrageous passions cloy my soul,
As with the wings of rancour and disdain,
Full oft am I soaring up to high 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 the wrongs
That Mortimer and Isabel have done.
But what are kings, when 48 regiment is gone,
But perfect shadows in a sunshine day?
My nobles rule, I bear the name of king;
1 wear the crown, but am controuled by them,
By Mortimer, and my unconstant queen,
Who spots my nuptial bed with infamy,
Whilst I am lodged 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?

Win. Your grace mistakes; it is for England's good,

And princely Edward's right, we crave the crown.
Edw. No,'tis for Mortimer, not Edward's head;
For he's a lamb, encompassed 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 vines be perished,
But Edward's name survive, though Edward dies.
Lei. My lord, why waste you thus the time
away?

They stay your answer-will you yield your crown? 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 extremes my mind here murthered is.
But what the heavens appoint, I must obey!
Here, take my crown; the life of Edward too;
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 beam doth vanish fast away,
And needs I must resign my wished crown.
Inhuman creatures! nursed with tyger'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!
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.
Trusty. My lord, the parliament must have
present news,

And therefore say, will you resign or no?
Edw. (the King rageth.) I'll not resign! but
whilst I live, be king!

Traitors, begone, and join with Mortimer,
Elect, 49 confirm, install, do what you will;
Their blood and yours shall seal these treache-
ries!

Win. This answer we'll return, and so fare

well.

Lei. Call them again, my lord, and speak them

fair;

For if they go, the prince shall lose his right.

48 Regiment-See Note 18. 161.

Edw. Call thou them back, I have no power

to speak.

Lei. My lord, the king is willing to resign.
Win. If he be not, let him choose.

Edo. O would I might! but heaven 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 called the murderer of a king, Take it. What, are you moved? pity you me? Then send for unrelenting Mortimer, And Isabel, whose eyes, being turned to steel, Will sooner sparkle fire, than shed a tear. Yet stay, for rather than I will look on them, Here, here: now, sweet God of heaven! Make me despise this transitory pomp, And sit for ave enthronized in heaven! Come, death, and with thy fingers close my eyes, Or, if I live, let me forget myself.

Ber. My lord.

Enter BERKELEY.

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 tyger's jaws,
Than his embracements-Bear this to the queen,
Wet with my tears, and dried again with sighs;
If with the sight thereof she be not moved,
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 transgressed,
Unless it be with too much clemency!

Trusty. And thus, most humbly, do we take our
leave.

Edw. Farewell; I know the next news that they bring

Will be my death; and welcome shall it be :-
To wretched men, death is felicity.

Lei. Another post, what news brings he?
Edw. Such news as I expect-come, Berkeley,
come,

And tell thy message to my naked breast.

Ber. My lord, think not a thought so villainous Can harbour in a man of noble birth. To do your highness service and devoir, And save you from your foes, Berkeley would die. Lei. My lord, the council and the queen command

That I resign my charge.

Edw. And who must keep me now ? must you, my lord?

Ber. Ay, my most gracious lord, so 'tis decreed. Edw. By Mortimer, whose name is written here, Well may I rend his name that rends my heart! This poor revenge hath something eased my mind. So may his limbs be torn, as is this paper! Hear me, immortal Jove, and grant it too! Ber. Your grace must hence with me to Berkeley straight,

VOL. I.

Edw. Whither you will, all places are alike, And every earth is fit for burial.

Lei. Favour him, my lord, as much as lieth in you.

Ber. Even so betide my soul as I use him. Edw. Mine enemy hath pitied my estate, And that's the cause that I am now removed. Ber. And thinks your grace that Berkeley will be cruel?

Edw. I know not, but of this am I assured, That death ends all, and I can die but once. Leicester, farewell.

way.

Lei. Not yet, my lord, I'll bear you on your [Exeunt. Enter MORTIMER, jun. and Queen ISABEL. Mor. jun. 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 ruled 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 gript 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
When as a king's name shall be under writ.

Queen. 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.

Mor. jun. First would I hear the news he were deposed;

And then let me alone to handle him.

Enter Messenger and WINCHESter. Mor. jun. Letters! from whence? Mes. From Killingworth, my lord. Queen. How fares my lord the king? Mes. In health, madam, but full of pensiveness. Queen. Alas! poor soul, would I could ease his grief! [Winchester presents papers. Thanks, gentle Winchester; sirrah, be gone. [Exit Messenger. Win. The king hath willingly resigned his crown. Queen. O happy news! send for the prince, my

Berkeley shall be discharged, the king removed,
And none but we shall know where he lieth.
Queen. But, Mortimer, as long as he survives,
What safety rests for us, or for my son?
Mor. jun. Speak, shall he presently be dis-
patched and die?

Queen. I would he were, so 'twere not by my

means.

Enter MATREVIS and GURNEY.

Mor. jun. 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.
Mor. jun. Gurney?
Gur. My lord.

Mor. jun. As thou intend'st to rise by Mortimer, Who now makes fortune's wheel turn as he please, Seck all the means thou canst to make him droop, And neither give him kind word nor good look. Gur. I warrant you, my lord.

Mor. jun. And this above the rest,-because

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,
47 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.

Mor. jun. So, now away; post thitherwards

Let him be king, I ain too young to reign.

Queen. But be content, seeing it is his highness' pleasure.

Prince. Let me but see him first, and then I will.

Edm. Ay do, sweet nephew.

Queen. Brother, you know it is impossible.
Prince. Why, is he dead?

Queen. No, God forbid !

Edm. I would those words proceeded from your heart.

Mor. jun. Inconstant Edmund, dost thou favour him,

That wast a cause of his imprisonment?

Edm. The more cause have I now to make

amends.

Mor. jun. I tell thee 'tis not meet that one so false

Should come about the person of a prince.
My lord, he hath betrayed the king his brother,
And therefore trust him not.

Prince. But he repents, and sorrows for it now. Queen. Come son, and go with this gentle lord and me.

Prince. With you I will, but not with Mortimer. Mor. jun. Why, youngling, disdain'st thou so of Mortimer?

Then I will carry thee by force away!

me.

Queen. Brother Edmund, strive not, we are his friends;

Isabel is nearer than the earl of Kent.

Edm. Sister, Edward is my charge, redeem him.
Queen. Edward is my son, and I will keep him.
Edm. Mortimer shall know that he hath
wronged me.

Hence will I haste to Killingworth castle,
And rescue aged Edward from his foes,
To be revenged on Mortimer and thee.

[Exeunt.

Enter MATREVIS and GURNEY with the KING. Soldiers attending.

Mat. My lord, be not pensive, we are your
friends;

Men are ordained to live in misery,
Therefore come, dalliance dangereth our lives.
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 choler to encrease.

Edw. This usage makes my misery encrease.
But can my air of life continue long,
When all my senses are annoyed with stench?
Within a dungeon England's king is kept,
Where I am starved for want of sustenance.
My daily diet is heart-breaking sobs,
That almost rend the closet of my heart;
Thus lives old Edward not relieved 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.
Edw. Traitors, away! what, will you murder me,
Or 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. 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!

king.

O Gaveston, it is for thee that I am wronged.
For me, both thou and both the Spencers died!
And for your sakes a thousand wrongs I'll take.
The Spencers' ghosts, wherever they remain,
Wish well to mine; then tush, for them I'll die.
Mat.' Twixt theirs and yours shall be no eninity.
Come, come away, now put the torches out,
We'll enter in by darkness to Killingworth.
Enter EDMUND.

Gur. How now, who comes there?
Mat. Guard the king sure; it is the earl of
Kent.

Edw. O, gentle brother, help to rescue me!
Mat. Keep them asunder; thrust in the king.
Edm. Soldiers, let me but talk to him one word.
Gur. Lay hands upon the earl for his assault.
Edm. Lay down your weapons, traitors, yield
the king.

Mat. Edmund, yield thou thyself, or thou shalt die.

Edm. Base villains! wherefore do you gripe me thus?

Gur. Bind him, and so convey him to the court. Edm. 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 the King.

Manent EDMUND and the Soldiers. Edm. O miserable is that common-weal, where lords

Keep courts, and kings are lock'd in prison! Soldiers. Wherefore stay we? on, sirs, to the

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 them save his life,
Ewdardum 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,

Mor. jun. But at his looks, Lightborn, thou wilt relent.

Light. Relent! ha, ha, I use much to relent. Mor. jun. Well, do it bravely, and be secret. Light. You shall not need to give instructions; Tis not the first time I have killed a man. I learned in Naples how to poison flowers; To strangle with a lawn thrust through 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. Mor. jun. What's that?

Light. Nay, you shall pardon me, none shall know my tricks.

Mor. jun. Icare not how it is, so it be not 'spied. Deliver this to Gurney and Matrevis. At every ten mile end thou hast a horse. Take this, away; and never see me more. Light. No!

Mor. jun. No; unless thou bring me news of Edward's death.

Light. That will I quickly do; farewell, my lord.

[Exit.

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;

Feared am I more than loved-let me be feared;
And, when I frown, make all the court look pale.
I view the prince with Aristarchus' eyes,
Whose looks were as 48 a breeching to a boy.
They thrust upon me the protectorship,
And sue to me for that which 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 is all 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 controul?
Major sum quàm cui possit fortuna nocere.
And that this be the coronation-day,
It pleaseth me, and Isabel the queen.
The trumpets sound, I must go take my place:
Enter the young KING, BISHOP, CHAMPION,
NOBLES, QUEEN, &c.

Bish. 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.

Mor. jun. None comes, sound trumpets.
King. Champion, here's to thee.
Queen. Lord Mortimer, now take him to your
charge.

Enter Soldiers, with the Earl of KENT prisoner. Mor. jun. What traitor have we there with blades and bills?

The Bashful Lover, A. 1. S. 1:

"You will be breeched, boy,

"For your physical maxims."

The Guardian, A. 1. S. 1 :