Light. So, now.

Must I about this gear: ne'er was there any

So finely handled as this king shall be.—

Foh, here's a place indeed with all my heart!

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

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

K. 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 eye can refrain from shedding tears,

To see a king in this most piteous state?

K. 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 ere I have done my tale.

This