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?

Which thoughts are martyrèd 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.

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 beam doth vanish fast away,
And needs I must resign my wishèd 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,

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;

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

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.

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 villa

nous

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 commands

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.

*of] So 4to 1598.-2tos 1612, 1622, "and." ↑ Jove] See note 1, p. 80.

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 importst 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 pensive-

ness.

Q. Isab. Alas, poor soul, would I could ease his grief!

* Enter Queen Isabella, &c.] Scene, an apartment in the royal palace.

↑ that imports] i. e. that it imports.
tus] So 4tos 1612, 1622.-2to 1598 "as."

§ 'twill] So 4tos 1612, 1622.-2to 1598 "will."
Whenas] i. e. When.

*

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; no 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.

* letter] Should perhaps be thrown out.

80] The modern editors print "as",-and perhaps rightly, the original compositor having caught "so" from the preceding line. (Old eds. here, as elsewhere, "Bartley" and " "Bartly.")

Exit the Bish. of Win.] The old eds. do not mark the exit (nor indeed the entrance) of the Bishop. But it seems necessary that he should quit the stage here. § Matrevis] i. e. Sir John Maltravers.

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.