Two Kings (History Plays, Book 4)

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I am going to die. I wouldn't leave me alive. He won't either. Henry's no fool. He knows I'll fight till I win, and I always, always win in the end. The sun smiles upon me. Or once it did. And Henry, Harry, my Harry, he's so very many things. But he is no fool. And he knows that so long as I remain alive, there is a chance I will escape. There is a good chance. I stop at nothing. The blood of my father is somewhere in my veins.
I'm unbreakable.
And yet they will come for me. It's just a matter of waiting. Waiting here, in this cold cell, starving; it's been all night. Why do they keep me waiting here with nothing but shadows?
My hands are shaking. I've thrown up I don't know how many times. I've heard their voices in the hall too many times. I haven't had my medication in what eighteen hours now— you know I'm ill Harry? Not ill enough not to kick your stupid, ugly face in. No, never too ill for that.
I'm not doing so well, right now, I grant you, but I keep fighting. I know nothing else. I limp around the cell. I can't bring myself to hate him but I can bring myself to hate everything about everything that I am and where I am. Where are the boys? Two of them, just the two, they were with me I told them to wait where do they think I am?
Don't worry about it. Get out of here. Just get out of here oh I'm not getting out of here am? Oh god I can barely stand. I can bleed I can scream probably but I haven't heard my voice in hours. God Harry send me your men let me die fighting like I was born to. I get that don't I? That last request? No, I get nothing I'm afforded no mercy here. None whatsoever.
Why must my thoughts keep running and torture me thus? This room, these four walls, stone, stone binding me, and the universe which always inexplicable centered upon me—now bound here. And all external noise, footsteps, music, it all drives me mad. All to drive me mad when my thoughts are left my own. I hope you're happy, Harry. I hope you're happy here in the end.
Because this is the end. This is the end of the man you were, and it's very clearly the end of me.
I hope you're happy, once dear, sweet friend. Oh Harry let me shout at you. Just once more. Let me rail at you, hit me, wound me, shove me to the floor not like this. Oh this is too civil for our breeding Harry why are you letting it end this way? Where did we get so lost?
If only I could go back I would. Turn back time and play God, not to change a thing, but simply stay in the endless light. When things were so very simple and this future was never upon us. When I could speak and you would hear me. When we were alive and well and glimpsed something like happiness? I don't want to be here. Please speed me from here back to a single day a single hour, I don't know what I'd undo, what I'd replace.
I don't know how we got here.