._ But be content, seeing 'tis his highness' pleasure.
_P. Edw._ Let me but see him first, and then I will.
_Kent._ Ay, do, sweet nephew.
_Q. Isab._ Brother, you know it is impossible.
_P. Edw._ Why, is he dead?
_Q. Isab._ No, God forbid!
_Kent._ I would those words proceeded from your heart!
_Y. Mor._ Inconstant Edmund, dost thou favour him,
That wast a cause of his imprisonment?
_Kent._ The more cause now have I to make amends.
_Y. Mor._ [_aside to_ Q. ISAB.]
I tell thee, 'tis not meet that one so false
Should come about the person of a prince.--
My lord, he hath betray'd the king his brother,
And therefore trust him not.
_P. Edw._ But he repents, and sorrows for it now.
_Q. Isab._ Come, son, and go with this gentle lord and me.
_P. Edw._ With you I will, but not with Mortimer.
_Y. Mor._ Why, youngling, 'sdain'st thou so of Mortimer?
Then I will carry thee by force away.
_P. Edw._ Help, uncle Kent! Mortimer will wrong me.
_Q. Isab._ Brother Edmund, strive not; we are his friends;
Isabel is nearer than the Earl of Kent.
_Kent._ Sister, Edward is my charge; redeem him.
_Q. Isab._ Edward is my son, and I will keep him.
_Kent._ Mortimer shall know that he hath wronged me.
Hence will I haste to Killingworth Castle,
And rescue aged Edward from his foes,
To be reveng'd on Mortimer and thee. [_Aside._
[_Exeunt, on the one side, Queen Isabella, Prince Edward
and the younger Mortimer; on other other, Kent._

_Enter_ MATREVIS, GURNEY, _and_ Soldiers, _with_
KING EDWARD.

_Mat._ My lord, be not pensive; we are your friends:
Men are ordain'd to live in misery;
Therefore, come; dalliance dangereth our lives.
_K. Edw._ Friends, whither must unhappy Edward go?
Will hateful Mortimer appoint no rest?
Must I be vexed like the nightly bird,
Whose sight is loathsome to all winged 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,
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.
_K. Edw._ This usage makes my misery increase.
But can my air of life continue long,
When all my senses are annoy'd with stench?
Within