_Y. Mor._ The prince I rule, the queen do I command, And with a lowly congé to the ground, The proudest lords salute me as I pass: 50 I seal, I cancel, I do what I will: Feared am I more than loved--let me be feared; And when I frown, make all the court look pale. I view the prince with Aristarchus' eyes, Whose looks were as a breeching to a boy. They thrust upon me the protectorship, And sue to me for that that I desire. While at the council-table, grave enough, And not unlike a bashful puritan, First I complain of imbecility, 60 Saying it is _onus quam gravissimum;_ Till being interrupted by my friends, _Suscepi_ that _provinciam_ as they term it; And to conclude, I am Protector now. Now is all sure, the queen and Mortimer Shall rule the realm, the king; and none rules us. Mine enemies will I plague, my friends advance; And what I list command who dare control? _Major sum quam cui possit fortuna nocere._[324] And that this be the coronation-day, 70 It pleaseth me, and Isabel the queen. [_Trumpets within._ The trumpets sound, I must go take my place. _Enter_[325] _the_ YOUNG KING, ARCHBISHOP,[326] CHAMPION, Nobles, QUEEN. _Archbishop._ Long live King Edward, by the grace of God, King of England, and Lord of Ireland! _Cham._ If any Christian, Heathen, Turk, or Jew, Dare but affirm that Edward's not true king, And will avouch his saying with the sword, I am the champion that will combat with him. _Y. Mor._ None comes, sound trumpets. _King._ Champion, here's to thee. [_Gives a purse._ _Queen._ Lord Mortimer, now take him to your charge. 80 _Enter_ Soldiers, _with the_ EARL OF KENT _prisoner_. _Y. Mor._ What traitor have we there with blades and bills? _Sol._ Edmund, the Earl of Kent. _King._ What hath he done? _Sol._ 'A would have taken the king away perforce, As we were bringing him to Killingworth. _Y. Mor._ Did you attempt his rescue, Edmund? speak. _Kent._ Mortimer, I did; he is our king, And thou compell'st this prince to wear the crown. _Y. Mor._ Strike off his head, he shall have martial law. _Kent._ Strike off my head! base traitor, I defy thee. _King._ My lord, he is my uncle, and shall live. 90 _Y. Mor._ My lord, he is your enemy, and shall die. _Kent._ Stay, villains! _King._ Sweet mother, if I cannot pardon him, Entreat my Lord Protector for his life. _Queen._ Son, be content; I dare not speak a word.