_Y. Mor._ You being his uncle, and the next of blood, Do look to be protector o'er the prince. _Kent._ Not I, my lord; who should protect the son, 90 But she that gave him life? I mean the queen. _Prince._ Mother, persuade me not to wear the crown: Let him be king--I am too young to reign. _Queen._ But be content, seeing 'tis[318] his highness' pleasure. _Prince._ Let me but see him first, and then I will. _Kent._ I, do, sweet nephew. _Queen._ Brother, you know it is impossible. _Prince._ Why, is he dead? _Queen._ No, God forbid. _Kent._ I would those words proceeded from your heart. 100 _Y. Mor._ Inconstant Edmund, dost thou favour him, That wast a cause of his imprisonment? _Kent._ The more cause have I now to make amends. _Y. Mor._ I tell thee, 'tis not meet that one so false Should come about the person of a prince. My lord, he hath betrayed the king his brother, And therefore trust him not. _Prince._ But he repents, and sorrows for it now. _Queen._ Come, son, and go with this gentle lord and me. _Prince._ With you I will, but not with Mortimer. 110 _Y. Mor._ Why, youngling, 'sdain'st thou so of Mortimer? Then I will carry thee by force away. _Prince._ Help, uncle Kent, Mortimer will wrong me. _Queen._ Brother Edmund, strive not; we are his friends; Isabel is nearer than the Earl of Kent. _Kent._ Sister, Edward is my charge, redeem him. _Queen._ Edward is my son, and I will keep him. _Kent._ Mortimer shall know that he hath wrongèd me!-- Hence will I haste to Killingworth Castle, And rescue aged Edward from his foes, 120 To be revenged on Mortimer and thee. [_Aside. Exeunt omnes._ SCENE III. _Enter_[319] MATREVIS _and_ GURNEY _with the_ KING. _Mat._ My lord, be not pensive, we are your friends; Men are ordained to live in misery, Therefore come,--dalliance dangereth our lives. _Edw._ Friends, whither must unhappy Edward go? Will hateful Mortimer appoint no rest? Must I be vexèd like the nightly bird, Whose sight is loathsome to all wingèd fowls? When will the fury of his mind assuage? When will his heart be satisfied with blood? If mine will serve, unbowel straight this breast, 10 And give my heart to Isabel and him; It is the chiefest mark they level at. _Gur._ Not so, my liege, the queen hath given this charge To keep your grace in safety; Your passions make your dolours to increase.