o the gates of hell convey me hence;
Let Pluto's bells ring out my fatal knell,
And hags howl for my death at Charon's shore;
For friends hath Edward none but these,
And these must die under a tyrant's sword.
_Rice._ My lord, be going: care not for these;
For we shall see them shorter by the heads.
_K. Edw._ Well, that shall be shall be: part we must;
Sweet Spenser, gentle Baldock, part we must.--
Hence, feigned weeds! unfeigned are my woes.--
[_Throwing off his disguise._
Father, farewell.--Leicester, thou stay'st for me;
And go I must.--Life, farewell, with my friends!
[_Exeunt King Edward and Leicester._
_Y. Spen._ O, is he gone? is noble Edward gone?
Parted from hence, never to see us more!
Rend, sphere of heaven! and, fire, forsake thy orb!
Earth, melt to air! gone is my sovereign,
Gone, gone, alas, never to make return!
_Bald._ Spenser, I see our souls are fleeting hence;
We are depriv'd the sunshine of our life.
Make for a new life, man; throw up thy eyes
And heart and hand to heaven's immortal throne;
Pay nature's debt with cheerful countenance;
Reduce we all our lessons unto this,--
To die, sweet Spenser, therefore live we all;
Spenser, all live to die, and rise to fall.
_Rice._ Come, come, keep these preachments till you come to
the place appointed. You, and such as you are, have
made wise work in England. Will your lordships away?
_Mow._ Your lordship I trust will remember me?
_Rice._ Remember thee, fellow! what else? Follow me to
the town. [_Exeunt._

_Enter_ KING EDWARD, LEICESTER, _the_ BISHOP OF
WINCHESTER, _and_ TRUSSEL.

_Leices._ Be patient, good my lord, cease to lament;
Imagine Killingworth Castle were your court,
And that you lay for pleasure here a space,
Not of compulsion or necessity.
_K. Edw._ Leicester, if gentle words might comfort me,
Thy speeches long ago had eas'd my sorrows,
For kind and loving hast thou always been.
The griefs of private men are soon allay'd;
But not of kings. The forest deer, being struck,
Runs to an herb that closeth up the wounds:
But when the imperial lion's flesh is gor'd,
He rends and tears it with his wrathful paw,
[And], highly scorning that the lowly earth
Should drink his blood, mounts up to th