My Lord, why droope you thus?
Edw.
O day! the last of all my blisse on earth,
Center of all misfortune. O my Starres!
Why do you lowre unkindly on a King?
Came Leister then in Isabellas name,
To take my life, my company from me?
Heere man rip up this panting breast of mine,
And take my heart in reskew of my friends.
Rice.
Away with them.
Spen.ju.
It may become thee yet,
To let us take our farewell of his Grace.
Abb.
My heart with pitty earnes to see this sight,
A King to beare these words and proud commands.
Edw.
Spencer, ah sweet Spencer, thus then must we part.
Spen.ju.
We must my Lord, so will the angry Heavens.
Edw.
Nay so will Hell, and cruell Mortimer:
The gentle Heavens have not to do in this.
Bald.
My Lord, it is in vaine to grieve or storme,
Heere humbly of your Grace we take our leaves,
Our Lots are cast, I feare me so is thine,
Edw.
In Heaven we may, in earth never shall wee meete,
And Leister say, what shall become of us?
Lei.
Your Majesty must goe to Killingworth.
Edw.
Must! Tis somwhat hard, when Kings must go.
Lei.
Here is a Litter ready for your Grace,
That waites your pleasure, and the day growes old.
Rice.
As good be gone as stay and be benighted.
Edw.
A Litter hast thou, Lay me in a Hearse,
And to the gates of Hell convay me hence,
Let Plutos Bels ring out my fatall knell,
And Hags howle for my death at Charons shore,
For friends hath Edward none, but these, and these,
And these must dye under a Tyrants sword.
Rice.
My Lord be going, care not for these,
For we shall see them shorter by the heads.
Edw.
Well, that shall be, shall be, part we must,
Sweete Spencer, gentle Baldocke, part we must,
Hence fained weedes, unfained are my woes,
Father,
