_Y. Mor._ Let me alone, here is the privy seal. [_Exit_ WINCHESTER. Who's there?--call hither Gurney and Matrevis. To dash the heavy-headed Edmund's drift, Berkeley shall be discharged, the king removed, 40 And none but we shall know where he lieth.[317] _Queen._ But, Mortimer, as long as he survives, What safety rests for us, or for my son? _Y. Mor._ Speak, shall he presently be despatched and die? _Queen._ I would he were, so 'twere not by my means. _Enter_ MATREVIS _and_ GURNEY. _Y. Mor._ Enough.-- Matrevis, write a letter presently Unto the Lord of Berkeley from ourself That he resign the king to thee and Gurney; And when 'tis done, we will subscribe our name. 50 _Mat._ It shall be done, my lord. _Y. Mor._ Gurney. _Gur._ My lord. _Y. Mor._ As thou intend'st to rise by Mortimer, Who now makes Fortune's wheel turn as he please, Seek all the means thou canst to make him droop, And neither give him kind word nor good look. _Gur._ I warrant you, my lord. _Y. Mor._ And this above the rest: because we hear That Edmund casts to work his liberty, Remove him still from place to place by night, Till at the last he come to Killingworth, 60 And then from thence to Berkeley back again? And by the way, to make him fret the more, Speak curstly to him; and in any case Let no man comfort him if he chance to weep, But amplify his grief with bitter words. _Mat._ Fear not, my lord, we'll do as you command. _Y. Mor._ So now away; post thitherwards amain. _Queen._ Whither goes this letter? to my lord the king? Commend me humbly to his majesty, And tell him that I labour all in vain 70 To ease his grief, and work his liberty; And bear him this as witness of my love. [_Gives a ring._ _Mat._ I will, madam. [_Exeunt_ MATREVIS _and_ GURNEY; _manent_ ISABEL _and_ MORTIMER. _Enter the_ Young Prince, _and the_ EARL OF KENT _talking with him_. _Y. Mor._ Finely dissembled? Do so still, sweet queen. Here comes the young prince with the Earl of Kent. _Queen._ Something he whispers in his childish ears. _Y. Mor._ If he have such access unto the prince, Our plots and stratagems will soon be dashed. _Queen._ Use Edmund friendly as if all were well. _Y. Mor._ How fares my honourable lord of Kent? 80 _Kent._ In health, sweet Mortimer: how fares your grace? _Queen._ Well, if my lord your brother were enlarged. _Kent._ I hear of late he hath deposed himself. _Queen._ The more my grief. _Y. Mor._ And mine. _Kent._ Ah, they do dissemble? [_Aside._ _Queen._ Sweet son, come hither, I must talk with thee.