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. [King Edward is murdered.110
Mat. 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?
Gur. Excellent well: take this for thy reward. [Gurney stabs Lightborn. Come, let us cast the body in the moat, And bear the king's to Mortimer our lord: Away! [Exeunt with the bodies.
SCENE VI.
Enter [338] Mortimer and Matrevis.
Y. Mor. Is't done, Matrevis, and the murderer dead?