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Act Five, Scene Three

Enter Matrevis and Gurney with the King [and souldiers].

My lord, be not pensive, we are your friends.
Men are ordaind to live in miserie,
Therefore come, dalliance dangereth our lives.

Friends, whither must unhappie Edward go,
Will hatefull Mortimer appoint no rest?
Must I be vexed like the nightly birde,
Whose sight is loathsome to all winged fowles?
When will the furie of his minde asswage?
When will his hart be satisfied with bloud ?
If mine will serve, unbowell straight this brest,
And give my heart to Isabell and him,
It is the chiefest marke they levell at.

Not so my liege, the Queene hath given this charge,
To keepe your grace in safetie,
Your passions make your dolours to increase.

This usage makes my miserie increase.
But can my ayre of life continue long,
When all my sences are anoyde with stenche?
Within a dungeon Englands king is kept,
Where I am sterv'd for want of sustenance,
My daily diet, is heart breaking sobs,
That almost rents the closet of my heart,
Thus lives old Edward not reliev'd by any,
And so must die, though pitied by many.
O water gentle friends to coole my thirst,
And cleare my bodie from foule excrements.

Heeres channell water, as our charge is given.
Sit downe, for weele be Barbars to your grace.

Traitors away, what will you murther me,
Or choake your soveraigne with puddle water?

No, but wash your face, and shave away your beard,
Least you be knowne, and so be rescued.

Why strive you thus? your labour is in vaine.

The Wrenne may strive against the Lions strength,
But all in vaine, so vainely do I strive,
To seeke for mercie at a tyrants hand.
They wash him with puddle water, and shave his beard away.
Immortall powers, that knowes the painfull cares,
That waites upon my poore distressed soule,
O levell all your lookes upon these daring men,
That wronges their liege and soveraigne, Englands king.
O Gaveston , it is for thee that I am wrongd,
For me, both, both the Spencers died,
And for your sakes, a thousand wrongest ile take,
The Spencers ghostes, where ever they remaine,
Wish well to mine, then tush, for them ile die.

Twixt theirs and yours, shall be no enmitie.
Come, come, away, now put the torches out,
Weele enter in by darkenes to Killingworth.
Enter Edmund [earle of Kent].

How now, who comes there?

Guarde the king sure, it is the earle of Kent.

O gentle brother, helpe to rescue me.

Keepe them a sunder, thrust in the king.

Souldiers, let me but talke to him one worde.

Lay hands upon the earle for this assault.

Lay downe your weapons, traitors, yeeld the king.
Matrevis. Edmund, yeeld thou thy self, or thou shalt die.

Base villaines, wherefore doe you gripe mee thus ?

Binde him, and so convey him to the court.

Where is the court but heere, heere is the king,
And I will visit him, why stay you me?

The court is where lord Mortimer remaines,
Thither shall your honour go, and so farewell.
Exeunt Matrevis and Gurney, with the king.
Manent Edmund and the souldiers.

O miserable is that commonweale,
Where lords keepe courts, and kings are lockt in prison!

Wherefore stay we? on sirs to the court.

I, lead me whether you will, even to my death,
Seeing that my brother cannot be releast.
Exeunt omnes.

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