More than we can inflict: and therefore now
Let us assail his mind another while.
But stay; who’s this?
Gurney, it was left unpointed for the nonce;
“Edwardum occidere nolite timere,”
That’s his meaning.
Ay, stay a while; thou shalt have answer straight.—
Aside. This villain’s sent to make away the king.
Aside. And when the murder’s done,
See how he must be handled for his labour—
Pereat iste! Let him have the king;
What else?—Here is the keys, this is the lake:
Do as you are commanded by my lord.
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.
So, now.
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!
Small comfort finds poor Edward in thy looks:
Villain, I know thou com’st to murder me.
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 eye can refrain from shedding tears,
To see a king in this most piteous state?
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.
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 distempered, and my body’s numbed,
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 tattered robes!
Tell Isabel the queen, I looked not thus,
When for her sake I ran at tilt in France,
And there unhorsed the Duke of Cleremont.
O, speak no more, my lord! this breaks my heart.
Lie on this bed, and rest yourself a while.
These looks of thine can harbour naught 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.
These hands were never stained with innocent blood,
Nor shall they now be tainted with a king’s.
Forgive my thought for having such a thought.
One jewel have I left; receive thou this. Gives 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 still remain alive?
But that grief keeps me waking, I should sleep;
For not these ten days have these eyelids closed.
Now, as I speak, they fall; and yet with fear
Open again. O, wherefore sittest thou here?
No, no; for, if thou mean’st to murder me,
Thou wilt return again; and therefore stay. Sleeps.
Waking. O, let me not die yet! O, stay a while!
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?
I am too weak and feeble to resist.—
Assist me, sweet God, and receive my soul!
So, lay the table down, and stamp on it,
But not too hard, lest that you bruise his body.
I fear me that this cry will raise the town,
And therefore let us take horse and away.
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!
Scene VI
The Royal Palace, London.
Enter the Younger Mortimer and Matrevis. | |
Younger Mortimer |
Is’t done, Matrevis, and the murderer dead? |
Matrevis | Ay, my good lord: I would it were undone! |
Younger Mortimer |
Matrevis, if thou now grow’st penitent, |
Matrevis |
Gurney, my lord, is fled, and will, I fear, |
Younger Mortimer | Fly to the savages! |
Matrevis | I humbly thank your |