MAT. Who's here? My gracious sovereign Isabel!
I will take strength and kneel.
QUEEN. Matilda, sit;
I'll kneel to thee. Forgive me, gentle girl,
My most ungentle wrongs.
MAT. Fair, beauteous queen,
I give God thanks I do not think on wrongs.
OX. How now, Fitzwater's child! How dost thou, girl?
MAT. Well, my good Lord of Oxford; pretty well:
A little travail[360] more, and I shall rest,
For I am almost at my journey's end.
O that my head were rais'd a little up,
My drowsy head, whose dim decaying lights
Assure me it is almost time to sleep.
[Raise her head.
I thank your highness; I have now some ease.
Be witness, I beseech your majesty,
That I forgive the king with all my heart;
With all the little of my living heart,
That gives me leave to say I can forgive;
And I beseech high heaven he long may live
A happy king, a king belov'd and fear'd.
Oxford, for God's sake, to my father write
The latest commendations of his child;
And say Matilda kept his honour's charge,
Dying a spotless maiden undefil'd.
Bid him be glad, for I am gone to joy,
I, that did turn his weal to bitter woe.
The king and he will quickly now grow friends,
And by their friendship much content will grow.
Sink, earth to earth; fade, flower ordain'd to fade,
But pass forth, soul, unto the shrine of peace;
Beg there atonement may be quickly made.
Fair queen, kind Oxford, all good you attend.
Fly forth, lay soul, heaven's King be there thy friend.
[Dies.
OX. O pity-moving sight![361] age pitiless!
Are these the messages King John doth send?
Keep in, my tears, for shame! your conduits keep,
Sad woe-beholding eyes: no, will ye not?
Why, then, a God's name, weep. [Sit.
QUEEN. I cannot weep for ruth.[362] Here, here! take in
The blessed body of this noble maid:
In milk-white clothing let the same be laid
Upon an open bier, that all may see
King John's untimely lust and cruelty.
[Exeunt with the body.
OX. Ay, be it so; yourself, if so you please,
Will I attend upon, and both us wait
On chaste Matilda's body, which with speed
To Windsor Castle we will hence convey.
There is another spectacle of ruth,
Old Bruce's famish'd lady and her son.
QUEEN. There is the king besieging of young Bruce:
His lords are there who, when they see this sight,
I know will have small heart for John to fight.