Gur. And so do I, Matrevis: yesternight
I opened 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 here? 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 ye 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 dore,

See how he must be handled for his labour-
Percat 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. 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; go into the dungeon.

Light. So, now

[Gives light to LIGHTBORN, and then exit with MATREVIS.

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!

Edw. Who's there? what light is that? wherefore com'st thou ?

Light. To comfort you, and bring you joyful news. 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 used,
For she relents at this your misery:

And what eyes can refrain from shedding tears,
To see a king in this most piteous state?

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!

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 dropped 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 unhorsed the Duke of Cleremont.

Light. O, speak no more, my lord! this breaks my heart.

Lie on this bed, and rest yourself a while.

Edw. These looks of thine can harbour nought 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?

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.

Edw. Forgive my thought for having such a

thought.

One jewel have I left; receive thou this:

[Giving 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 remain alive?

Light. You're overwatch'd, my lord: lie down and

rest.

Edw. But that grief keeps me waking, I should sleep;

For not these ten days have these eye-lids closed.
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.
Edw. No, no; for, if thou mean'st to murder me,
Thou wilt return again; and therefore stay.
Light. He sleeps.

Edw. [waking] O, let me not die yet!
Light. How now, my lord!

[Sleeps. [a while! O, stay

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.

Edw. I am too weak and feeble to resist.-
Assist me, sweet God, and receive my soul !
Light. Run for the table.

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 thou 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.

SCENE VI.

Enter MORTIMER and MATREVIS.

Y. Mor. Is't done, Matrevis, and the murderer dead? Mat. Aye, my good lord; I would it were undone. Y. Mor. Matrevis, if thou now growest penitent I'll be thy ghostly father; therefore chuse, 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.

Y. Mor. As for myself, I stand as Jove's huge tree; And others are but shrubs compared to me.

All tremble at my name, and I fear none;
Let's see who dare impeach me for his death.

Enter the QUEEN.

Queen. Ah, Mortimer, the king my son hath news His father's dead, and we have murdered him.

Y. Mor. What if he have? the king is yet a child. Queen. Aye, but he tears his hair, and wrings his hands,

And vows to be revenged upon us both.

Into the council-chamber he is gone,

To crave the aid and succour of his peers.

Ah me! see where he comes, and they with him;
Now, Mortimer, begins our tragedy.