Ah Leister, way how hardly I can brooke
To loose my crowne and kingdome, without cause,
To give ambitious Mortimer my right,
That like a mountaine overwhelmes my blisse,
In which extreame my minde here murthered is:
But what the heavens appoint, I must obaye,
Here, take my crowne, the life of Edward too,
Two kings in
England
cannot raigne at once:
But stay a while, let me be king till night,
That I may gaze upon this glittering crowne,
So shall my eyes receive their last content,
My head, the latest honor dew to it,
And joyntly both yeeld up their wished right.
Continue ever thou celestiall sunne,
Let never silent night possesse this clime,
Stand still you watches of the element,
All times and seasons rest you at a stay,
That Edward may be still faire Englands king:
But dayes bright beames dooth vanish fast away,
And needes I must resigne my wished crowne.
Inhumaine creatures, nurst with Tigers milke,
Why gape you for your soveraignes overthrow ?
My diadem I meane, and guiltlesse life.
See monsters see, ile weare my crowne againe,
What, feare you not the furie of your king?
But haplesse Edward, thou art fondly led,
They passe not for thy frownes as late they did,
But seekes to make a new elected king,
Which fils my mind with strange despairing thoughts,
Which thoughts are martyred with endles torments.
And in this torment, comfort finde I none,
But that I feele the crowne upon my head,
And therefore let me weare it yet a while.
