I would have clung to him still, but they spurned me, trampled on me, cast me forth--to die, if I may not save him! Wilt thou not have mercy, princess?
daughter of Edward, oh, save him, save him!" It is impossible in the above incoherent words to convey to the reader even a faint idea of the agonized wildness with which they were spoken; the impression of unutterable misery they gave to those who listened to them, and marked their reflection in the face of the speaker.
"Fetters--the lowest dungeon--torture," repeated Gloucester, pacing up and down with disordered steps.

"Can these things be?
merciful heaven, how low hath England fallen! Boy, boy, can it be thou speakest truth ?" "As there is a God above, it is truth!" he answered, passionately.

"Oh, canst thou not save him from this?
is there no justice, no mercy?
Rise--no, no; wherefore should I rise ?" he continued, clinging convulsively to the knees of the princess, as she soothingly sought to raise him.

"I will kneel here till thou hast promised to plead for him with thy royal father, promised to use thine influence for his life.

Oh, canst thou once have loved him and yet hesitate for this ?" "I do not, I would not hesitate, unhappy boy," replied the princess, tenderly.