_Y. Mor._ Fair Isabel, now have we our desire; The proud corrupters of the light-brain'd king Have done their homage to the lofty gallows, And he himself lies in captivity. Be rul'd by me, and we will rule the realm: In any case take heed of childish fear, For now we hold an old wolf by the ears, That, if he slip, will seize upon us both, And gripe the sorer, being grip'd himself. Think therefore, madam, that imports us much To erect your son with all the speed we may, And that I be protector over him: For our behoof, 'twill bear the greater sway Whenas a king's name shall be under-writ. _Q. Isab._ Sweet Mortimer, the life of Isabel, Be thou persuaded that I love thee well; And therefore, so the prince my son be safe, Whom I esteem as dear as these mine eyes, Conclude against his father what thou wilt, And I myself will willingly subscribe. _Y. Mor._ First would I hear news he were depos'd, And then let me alone to handle him. _Enter_ Messenger. Letters! from whence? _Mess._ From Killingworth, my lord? _Q. Isab._ How fares my lord the king? _Mess._ In health, madam, but full of pensiveness. _Q. Isab._ Alas, poor soul, would I could ease his grief! _Enter the_ BISHOP OF WINCHESTER _with the crown._ Thanks, gentle Winchester.-- Sirrah, be gone. [_Exit Messenger._ _Bish. of Win._ The king hath willingly resign'd his crown. _Q. Isab._ O, happy news! send for the prince my son. _Bish. of Win._ Further, or this letter was seal'd, Lord Berkeley came, So that he now is gone from Killingworth; And we have heard that Edmund laid a plot To set his brother free; nor more but so. The Lord of Berkeley is so pitiful As Leicester that had charge of him before. _Q. Isab._ Then let some other be his guardian. _Y. Mor._ Let me alone; here is the privy-seal,-- [_Exit the Bish. of Win._ Who's there? Call hither, Gurney and Matrevis.-- [_To Attendants within._ To dash the heavy-headed Edmund's drift, Berkeley shall be discharg'd, the king remov'd, And none but we shall know where he lieth. _Q. Isab._ But, Mortimer, as long as he survives, What safety rests for us or for my son? _Y. Mor._ Speak, shall he presently be despatch'd and die? _Q. Isab._ I would he were, so 'twere not by my means! _Enter_ MATREVIS _and_ GURNEY.