They stay your answer, will you yield your crown?
Edw. Ah, Leister, weigh how hardly I can brook
To lose my crown and kingdom without cause;
To give ambitious Mortimer my right,
That like a mountain overwhelms my bliss,
In which extream my mind here murther'd is.
But what the heav'ns appoint, I must obey!
Here, take my crown; the life of Edward too;
Two kings in England cannot reign at once.
But stay a while, let me be king till night,
That I may gaze upon this glittering crown;
So shall my eyes receive their last content,
My head, the latest honour due to it,
And jointly both yield up their wished right.
Continue ever, thou celestial sun;
Let never silent night possess this clime;
Stand still, you watches of the element;
All times and seasons, rest you at a stay,
That Edward may be still fair England's king.
But day's bright beam doth vanish fast away,
And needs I must resign my wished crown;
Inhuman creatures! nurs'd with tiger's milk!
Why gape you for your sovereign's overthrow?
My diadem, I mean, and guiltless life.

t

See, monsters, see, I'll wear my crown again.
What, fear you not the fury of your king?
But, hapless Edward, thou art fondly led,
They pass not for thy frowns as late they did,
But seek to make a new-elected king;

Which fills my mind with strange despairing thoughts,
Which thoughts are martyred with endless torments,
And in this torment, comfort find I none,

But that I feel the crown upon my head,

And therefore let me wear it yet a while.

Trusty. My lord, the parliament must have present news,

And therefore say, will you resign or no?

Edw. I'll not resign! but whilst I live, be king!

Traitors, be gone, and join with Mortimer.

Elect, conspire, install, do what you will:

Their blood and yours shall seal these treacheries.

Bish. This answer we'll return, and so farewell.

Leic. Call them again, my lord, and speak them fair;

For if they go, the prince shall lose his right.

Edw. Call thou them back, I have no power to speak.
Leic. My lord, the king is willing to resign.

Bish. If he be not, let him choose.

Edw. O would I might! but heav'n and earth conspire

To make me miserable! here, receive my crown;

Receive it? no, these innocent hands of mine

Shall not be guilty of so foul a crime.
He of you. all that most desires my blood,
And will be call'd the murtherer of a king,
Take it. What, are you mov'd? pity you me?
Then send for unrelenting Mortimer,

And Isabel, whose eyes being turn'd to steel,
Will sooner sparkle fire than shed a tear.
Yet stay, for rather than I will look on them,
Here, here: now, sweet God of heav'n,
Make me despise this transitory pomp,

And sit for ever inthroniz'd in heav'n!

Come, Death, and with thy fingers close my eyes,
Or if I live, let me forget myself.

Bart. My lord.

Enter Bartley.

Edw. Call me not lord;

Away, out of my sight-ah, pardon me,
Grief makes me lunatick!

Let not that Mortimer protect my son;
More safety there is in a tiger's jaws,

Than his imbracements-Bear this to the queen,
Wet with my tears, and dry'd again with sighs;
If with the sight thereof she be not mov'd,
Return it back and dip it in my blood.
Commend me to my son, and bid him rule
Better than I. Yet how have I transgrest,
Unless it be with too much clemency?

Trusty. And thus, most humbly do we take our leave.

Edw. Farewell; I know the next news that they bring,

Will be my death; and welcome shall it be,

To wretched men, death is felicity.

Leic. Another post! what news brings he?

Edw. Such news as I expect-come, Bartley, come,

And tell thy message to my naked breast.

Bart. My lord, think not a thought so villanous

Can harbour in a man of noble birth.

To do your highness service and devoir,

And save you from your foes, Bartley would die.

Leic. My lord, the counsel of the

That I resign my charge.

queen commands

Edw. And who must keep me now? must you, my lord?
Bart. I, my most gracious lord, so 'tis decreed.

Edw. By Mortimer, whose name is written here.
Well, may I rend his name that rends my heart;
This poor revenge hath something eas'd my mind.
So may his limbs be torn, as is this paper;

Hear me, immortal Jove, and grant it too!

And

Bart. Your grace must hence with me to Bartley straight.

Edw. Whither you will, all places are alike,

every earth is fit for burial.

Leic. Favour him, my lord, as much as lieth in you.
Bart. Even so betide my soul as I use him.
Edw. Mine enemy hath pitied my estate,

And that's the cause that I am now remov'd.

Bart. And thinks your grace that Bartley will be cruel?

Edw. I know not, but of this am I assur'd,

That death ends all, and I can die but once.
Leicester, farewell."

Lightborn is employed to murder the king.

Edw. Who's there? what light is that? wherefore com'st thou?

Light. To comfort you, and bring you joyful news.

Edw. Small comfort finds poor Edward in thy looks.

Villain, I know thou com'st to murder me.

Light. To murder you, my most gracious lord!

Far is it from my heart to do you harm.

The queen sent me to see how you were us❜d,

For she relents at this your misery:

And what eyes can refrain from shedding tears,

To see a king in this most piteous state?

Edw. Weep'st thou already? list a-while to me,
And then thy heart, were it as Gurney's is,
Or as Matrevis, hewn from the Caucasus,
Yet will it melt, e'er I have done my tale.
This dungeon where they keep me, is the sink,
Wherein the filth of all the castle falls.

Light. O villains!

Edw. And there, in mire and puddle, have I stood
This ten days' space; and, lest that I should sleep,
One plays continually upon a drum.

They give me bread and water, being a king;
So that, for want of sleep and sustenance,
My mind's distemper'd, and my body's numb'd,

And whether I have limbs or no, I know not.
O, would my blood drop out from every vein,
As doth this water from my tatter'd robes.
Tell Isabel, the queen, I look'd not thus,
When for her sake I ran at tilt in France,
And there unhors'd the duke of Cleremont.

Light. O speak no more, my lord! this breaks my heart. Lie on this bed, and rest yourself awhile.

Edw. These looks of thine can harbour

My mind may be more stedfast on my God.

nought but

Light. What means your highness to mistrust me thus?
Edw. What mean'st thou to dissemble with
me thus ?
Light. These hands were never stain'd with innocent

blood,

Nor shall they now be tainted with a king's.

Edw. Forgive my thought, for having such a thought.

One jewel have I left, receive thou this.

Still fear I, and I know not what's the cause,

But every joint shakes as I give it thee.

O if thou harbour'st murder in thy heart!

Let this gift change thy mind, and save thy soul.
Know, that I am a king: Oh! at that name
I feel a hell of grief; where is my crown

Gone, gone, and do I still remain alive?

Light. You're overwatch'd, my lord, lie down and rest.
Edw. But that grief keeps me waking, I should sleep;

For not these ten days have these eye-lids clos'd.

Now as I speak they fall, and yet with fear

Open again. O wherefore sit'st thou here?

Light. If you mistrust me, I'll be gone, my lord.
Edw. No, no, for if thou mean'st to murder me,

Thou wilt return again, and therefore stay.
Light. He sleeps.

Edw. O let me not die; yet stay, O stay a-while.
Light. How now, my lord?

Edw. Something still buzzeth in mine ears,

And tells me, if I sleep I never wake;
This fear is that which makes me tremble thus.
And therefore tell me, wherefore art thou come?

Light. To rid thee of thy life; Matrevis, come.

Edw. I am too weak and feeble to resist :
Assist me, sweet God, and receive my soul.
Light. Run for the table.

Edw. O spare me, or despatch me in a trice.
Light. So, lay the table down, and stamp on it,
But not too hard, lest that you bruise his body.

Matr. I fear me that this cry will raise the town,
And therefore let us take horse and away.

Light. Tell me, sirs, was it not bravely done?
Gurn. Excellent well, take this for thy reward.
[Gurney stabs Lightborn.

Come, let us cast the body in the mote,

And bear the king's to Mortimer, our lord: away."

In the tragedy of Doctor Faustus, the sole interest centers in the learned person who gives the title to it; and who, having travelled round the circle of all sciences,

"And glutted now with learning's golden gifts,"

addicts himself to the practice of magic. For a reign of twenty-four years on earth, he barters an immortality of happiness in heaven. The play embraces the whole of this periodhis unholy compact-his various enjoyments, and the termination of his mundane glory.

Faustus anticipates the glories and delights of his magical pursuits.

"O what a world of profit and delight,
Of power, of honour, and omnipotence,
Is promised to the studious artizan!

All things that move between the quiet poles
Shall be at my command. Emperors and kings
Are but obeyed in their several provinces ;
But his dominion that exceeds in this,
Stretcheth as far as doth the mind of man:
A sound Magician is a Demigod.

Here tire my brains to get a deity.

How am I glutted with conceit of this!
Shall I make spirits fetch me what I please?"

Resolve me of all ambiguities?

Perform what desperate enterprise I will?
I'll have them fly to India for gold,

Ransack the ocean for orient pearl,

And search all corners of the new-found world,