The whole company sent by the Order of State--if “that might be called a body which then had no head there--from London, being placed by the Bishop of Hereford according to their degrees in <g>the Presence Chamber</g> of Kenilworth Castle, the king gowned in blacke came forth at last out of an inwarde roome--the Privy Chamber[195]--and presented himself to his vassals, where--as being privy to their errand--sorrow stroke such a chillnesse into him that he fell to the earth, lying stretched forth in a deadly swoon.” The Earl of Leicester and the Bishop of Worcester beholding this ran to him, and with much labour recovered the half-dead king, setting him on his feet. But “rueful and heavy” as this sight was, we read not yet of any acts or effects of compassion expressed toward him--so settled was their hatred and aversion. .... Miser atque infelix est etiam Rex, Nec quenquam, mihi crede, facit diadema beatum. The King being now come to himself--but to the sense of his misery--the Bishop of Hereford declared to him the cause of their present embassy; and running over the former points, concluded by saying, “That the king must resigne his diadem to his eldest sonne; or, after the refusall, suffer them to elect such a personne as themselves should judge to be most fit and able to defend the kingdome.” The delirious king having heard this speech, “brake forth into sighes and teares.” Yet, nevertheless, said that “it was greatly to his good pleasure and liking that--seeing it could none other be on his behalfe--his eldest son was so gracious in their sight; and therefore he gave them thanks for choosing him to be their kinge.” This being said, there was “forthwith a proceeding to the short ceremony of his resignation, which principally consisted in the surrender of his diadem and ensigns of majestic to the use of his sonne, the new kinge.... Edward being thus de-kinged, the embassie rode joyfully backe to London to the Parliament with the afore-named ensigns and dispatch of their employment.”--(So far Speed, Polyd. Virg., Thomas de la More, Walsingham.) “Now, after he was deposed of his kinglie honor and title,” says Holinshed, “the said King Edward remained for a time at Killingworth Castle, in custodie of the Earle of Leicester. But within a while the Queen[196] was informed by the Bishop of Hereford--whose hatred towards him had no end--that the Earle of Leicester favoured her husbande too much, and more than stoode with the suretie of her sonne’s estate; whereupon he, the King, was appointed to the keeping of two other lords, Thomas Berkeley and John Maltravers, who receiving him of the Earle of Leicester on the third of April, conveyed him from Kenilworth to Berkeley Castle, there to remain a close prisoner.” With the episode of this tragical history every reader is acquainted. In the words of the prophetic bard of Gray, he seems to hear The shrieks of death through Berkeley’s roofs that ring, Shrieks of an agonizing king!