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[A room in Kenilworth Castle]
Enter KING EDWARD, LEICESTER, the BISHOP OF WINCHESTER, [and TRUSSEL.
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. | 4 |
| 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, | 8 |
| 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, | 12 |
| And highly scorning that the lowly earth | |
| Should drink his blood, mounts up into the air. | |
| And so it fares with me, whose dauntless mind | |
| The ambitious Mortimer would seek to curb, | 16 |
| 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, | 20 |
| Full often 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, | 24 |
| That Mortimer and Isabel have done. | |
| But what are kings, when regiment 1 is gone, | |
| But perfect shadows in a sunshine day? | |
| My nobles rule, I bear the name of king; | 28 |
| 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, | 32 |
| 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, | 36 |
| To make usurping Mortimer a king? | |
| B. 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; | 40 |
| 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! | 44 |
| 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 survives, though Edward dies. | 48 |
| 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; | 52 |
| To give ambitious Mortimer my right, | |
| That like a mountain overwhelms my bliss, | |
| In which extreme my mind here murdered is. | |
| But what the heavens appoint, I must obey! | 56 |
| Here, take my crown; the life of Edward too; [Taking off the crown.] | |
| Two kings in England cannot reign at once. | |
| But stay awhile, let me be king till night, | |
| That I may gaze upon this glittering crown; | 60 |
| 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; | 64 |
| 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! | 68 |
| But day’s bright beam 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! | 72 |
| My diadem I mean, and guiltless life. | |
| See, monsters, see, I’ll wear my crown again! [He puts on the crown.] | |
| What, fear you not the fury of your king? | |
| But, hapless Edward, thou art fondly 2 led; | 76 |
| They pass 3 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, | 80 |
| And in this torment comfort find I none, | |
| But that I feel the crown upon my head; | |
| And therefore let me wear it yet awhile. | |
| Trus. My lord, the parliament must have present news, | 84 |
| 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 with Mortimer! | |
| Elect, conspire, install, do what you will:— | 88 |
| Their blood and yours shall seal these treacheries! | |
| B. 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. | 92 |
| K. Edw. Call thou them back, I have no power to speak. | |
| Leices. My lord, the king is willing to resign. | |
| B. of Win. If he be not, let him choose. | |
| K. Edw. O would I might, but heavens and earth conspire | 96 |
| 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, | 100 |
| 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, | 104 |
| 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, | 108 |
| Make me despise this transitory pomp, | |
| And sit for aye enthronized in Heaven! | |
| Come, death, and with thy fingers close my eyes, | |
| Or if I live, let me forget myself. | 112 |
| B. 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; | 116 |
| More safety is there 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, | 120 |
| 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? | 124 |
| Trus. And thus most humbly do we take our leave. | |
| K. Edw. Farewell; [Exeunt the BISHOP OF WINCHESTER and TRUSSEL.] | |
| I know the next news that they bring | |
| Will be my death; and welcome shall it be; | 128 |
| To wretched men, death is felicity. | |
| |
Enter BERKELEY, [who gives a paper to LEICESTER]
Leices. Another post! what news brings he? | |
| K. Edw. Such news as I expect—come, Berkeley, come, | |
| And tell thy message to my naked breast. | 132 |
| Berk. 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. | 136 |
| 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. | 140 |
| K. Edw. [taking the paper.] By Mortimer, whose name is written here! | |
| Well may I rend his name that rends my heart! [Tears it.] | |
| This poor revenge has something eas’d my mind. | |
| So may his limbs be torn, as is this paper! | 144 |
| 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. | 148 |
| 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. | 152 |
| Berk. And thinks your grace that Berkeley will be cruel? | |
| K. Edw. I know not; but of this am I assured, | |
| That death ends all, and I can die but once. | |
| Leicester, farewell! | 156 |
| Leices. Not yet, my lord; I’ll bear you on your way. Exeunt. | |
