My heart with pity earns to see this sight,
A king to bear these words and proud commands.
EDWARD. Spencer, ah, sweet Spencer, thus, then must we part.
SPENCER. We must, my lord; so will the angry heavens.
EDWARD. Nay, so will hell and cruel Mortimer;
The gentle heavens have not to do in this.
BALDOCK. My lord, it is in vain to grieve or storm.
Here humbly of your grace we take our leaves.
Our lots are cast; I fear me, so is thine.
EDWARD. In heaven we may, in earth never shall we meet.
And, Leicester, say, what shall become of us?
LEICESTER. Your majesty must go to Killingworth.
EDWARD. Must! 'Tis somewhat hard when Kings must go.
LEICESTER. Here is a litter ready for your grace,
That waits your pleasure, and the day grows old.
RICE AP HOWELL. As good be gone, as stay and be benighted.
EDWARD. A litter hast thou? Lay me in a hearse,
And to the gates of hell convey me hence.
Let Pluto's bells ring out my fatal knell,
And hags howl for my death at Charon's shore;
For friends hath Edward none but these, and these,
And these must die under a tyrant's sword.
RICE AP HOWELL. My lord, be going: care not for these;
For we shall see them shorter by the heads.
EDWARD. Well, that shall be, shall be. Part we must.
Sweet Spencer, gentle Baldock, part we must.
Hence, feigned weeds! Unfeigned are my woes.
Father, farewell. Leicester, thou stay'st for me,
And go I must. Life, farewell, with my friends.
Exeunt Edward and Leicester.
SPENCER. O, is he gone? Is noble Edward gone,
Parted from hence, never to see us more?
Rent, sphere of heaven, and, fire, forsake thy orb!
Earth, melt to air! Gone is my sovereign,
Gone, gone, alas, never to make return.
BALDOCK. Spencer, I see our souls are fleeted hence;
We are deprived the sunshine of our life.
Make for a new life, man; throw up thy eyes
And heart and hand to heaven's immortal throne;
Pay nature's debt with cheerful countenance,
Reduce we all our lessons unto this,
To die, sweet Spencer, therefore live we all;
Spencer, all live to die, and rise to fall.
RICE AP HOWELL. Come, come, keep these preachments till you come
to the place appointed. You and such as you are, have
made wise work in England. Will your lordships away?
MOWER. Your lordship, I trust, will remember me?
RICE AP HOWELL. Remember thee, fellow? What else? Follow me to the town.
Exeunt.
ACT FIVE, SCENE ONE
Enter the King, Leicester, the Bishop of Winchester and Trussel
LEICESTER. 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.
EDWARD. Leicester, if gentle words might comfort me,
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 into the air.
And so it fares with me, whose dauntless mind
The ambitious Mortimer would seek 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 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,
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 controlled 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?
WINCHESTER.