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<h1 id="id00001" style="margin-top: 9em">EDWARD THE SECOND</h1>
<p id="id00002">By Christopher Marlowe</p>
<h3 id="id00003" style="margin-top: 3em">DRAMATIS PERSONAE</h3>
<p id="id00004">KING EDWARD THE SECOND.<br>
PRINCE EDWARD, <i>his son, afterwards</i> KING EDWARD THE THIRD.<br>
KENT, <i>brother to</i> KING EDWARD THE SECOND.<br>
GAVESTON.<br>
ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY.<br>
BISHOP OF COVENTRY.<br>
BISHOP OF WINCHESTER.<br>
WARWICK.<br>
LANCASTER.<br>
PEMBROKE.<br>
ARUNDER.<br>
LEICESTER.<br>
BERKELEY.<br>
MORTIMER <i>the elder.</i><br>
MORTIMER <i>the younger, his nephew.</i><br>
SPENSER <i>the elder.</i><br>
SPENSER <i>the younger, his son.</i><br>
BALDOCK.<br>
BAUMONT.<br>
TRUSSEL.<br>
GURNEY.<br>
MATREVIS.<br>
LIGHTBORN.<br>
SIR JOHN OF HAINAULT.<br>
LEVUNE.<br>
RICE AP HOWEL.<br>
ABBOT.<br>
MONKS.<br>
HERALD.<br>
LORDS, POOR MEN, JAMES, MOWER, CHAMPION,<br>
MESSENGERS, SOLDIERS, <i>and</i> ATTENDANTS.<br>
</p>
<p id="id00005">QUEEN ISABELLA, <i>wife to</i> KING EDWARD THE SECOND.<br>
NIECE <i>to</i> KING EDWARD THE SECOND, <i>daughter to<br>
the</i> DUKE OF GLOCESTER.<br>
LADIES.<br>
</p>
<p id="id00006" style="margin-top: 4em"> <i>Enter</i> GAVESTON, <i>reading a letter.</i></p>
<p id="id00007"><i>Gav. My father is deceas'd. Come, Gaveston,<br>
And share the kingdom with thy dearest friend.</i><br>
Ah, words that make me surfeit with delight!<br>
What greater bliss can hap to Gaveston<br>
Than live and be the favourite of a king!<br>
Sweet prince, I come! these, thy amorous lines<br>
Might have enforc'd me to have swum from France,<br>
And, like Leander, gasp'd upon the sand,<br>
So thou wouldst smile, and take me in thine arms.<br>
The sight of London to my exil'd eyes<br>
Is as Elysium to a new-come soul:<br>
Not that I love the city or the men,<br>
But that it harbours him I hold so dear,—<br>
The king, upon whose bosom let me lie,<br>
And with the world be still at enmity.<br>
What need the arctic people love star-light,<br>
To whom the sun shines both by day and night?<br>
Farewell base stooping to the lordly peers!<br>
My knee shall bow to none but to the king.<br>
As for the multitude, that are but sparks,<br>
Rak'd up in embers of their poverty,—<br>
<i>Tanti,</i>—I'll fawn first on the wind,<br>
That glanceth at my lips, and flieth away.<br>
</p>
<p id="id00008"> <i>Enter three</i> Poor Men.</p>
<p id="id00009"> But how now! what are these?<br>
<i>Poor Men.</i> Such as desire your worship's service.<br>
<i>Gav.</i> What canst thou do?<br>
<i>First P. Man.</i> I can ride.<br>
<i>Gav.</i> But I have no horse.—What art thou?<br>
<i>Sec. P. Man.</i> A traveller.<br>
<i>Gav.</i> Let me see; thou wouldst do well<br>
To wait at my trencher, and tell me lies at dinner-time;<br>
And, as I like your discoursing, I'll have you.—<br>
And what art thou?<br>
<i>Third P. Man.</i> A soldier, that hath serv'd against the Scot.<br>
<i>Gav.</i> Why, there are hospitals for such as you:<br>
I have no war; and therefore, sir, be gone.<br>
<i>Third P. Man.</i> Farewell, and perish by a soldier's hand,<br>
That wouldst reward them with an hospital!<br>
<i>Gav.</i> Ay, ay, these words of his move me as much<br>
As if a goose should play the porcupine,<br>
And dart her plumes, thinking to pierce my breast.<br>
But yet it is no pain to speak men fair;<br>
I'll flatter these, and make them live in hope.— [<i>Aside.</i><br>
You know that I came lately out of France,<br>
And yet I have not view'd my lord the king:<br>
If I speed well, I'll entertain you all.<br>
<i>All.</i> We thank your worship.<br>
<i>Gav.</i> I have some business: leave me to myself.<br>
<i>All.</i> We will wait here about the court.<br>
<i>Gav.</i> Do. [<i>Exeunt Poor Men.</i><br>
These are not men for me;<br>
I must have wanton poets, pleasant wits,<br>
Musicians, that with touching of a string<br>
May draw the pliant king which way I please:<br>
Music and poetry is his delight;<br>
Therefore I'll have Italian masks by night,<br>
Sweet speeches, comedies, and pleasing shows;<br>
And in the day, when he shall walk abroad,<br>
Like sylvan nymphs my pages shall be clad;<br>
My men, like satyrs grazing on the lawns,<br>
Shall with their goat-feet dance the antic hay;<br>
Sometime a lovely boy in Dian's shape,<br>
With hair that gilds the water as it glides<br>
Crownets of pearl about his naked arms,<br>
And in his sportful hands an olive-tree,<br>
To hide those parts which men delight to see,<br>
Shall bathe him in a spring; and there, hard by,<br>
One like Actæon, peeping through the grove,<br>
Shall by the angry goddess be transform'd,<br>
And running in the likeness of an hart,<br>
By yelping hounds pull'd down, shall semm to die:<br>
Such things as these best please his majesty.—<br>
Here comes my lord the king, and the nobles,<br>
From the parliament. I'll stand aside. [<i>Retires.</i><br>
</p>
<p id="id00010"><i>Enter</i> KING EDWARD, KENT, LANCASTER, <i>the elder</i> MORTIMER,<br>
<i>the younger</i> MORTIMER, WARWICK, PEMBROKE, <i>and</i><br>
Attendants.<br>
</p>
<p id="id00011"><i>K. Edw.</i> Lancaster!<br>
<i>Lan.</i> My lord?<br>
<i>Gav.</i> That Earl of Lancaster do I abhor. [<i>Aside.</i><br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> Will you not grant me this?—In spite of them<br>
I'll have my will; and these two Mortimers,<br>
That cross me thus, shall know I am displeased. [<i>Aside.</i><br>
<i>E. Mor.</i> If you love us, my lord, hate Gaveston.<br>
<i>Gav.</i> That villain Mortimer! I'll be his death. [<i>Aside.</i><br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> Mine uncle here, this earl, and I myself,<br>
Were sworn to your father at his death,<br>
That he should ne'er return into the realm:<br>
And now, my lord, ere I will break my oath,<br>
This sword of mine, that should offend your foes,<br>
Shall sleep within the scabbard at thy need,<br>
And underneath thy banners march who will,<br>
For Mortimer will hang his armour up.<br>
<i>Gav. Mort dieu!</i> [<i>Aside.</i><br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> Well, Mortimer, I'll make thee rue these words:<br>
Beseems it thee to contradict thy king?<br>
Frown'st thou thereat, aspiring Lancaster?<br>
The sword shall plane the furrows of thy brows,<br>
And hew these knees that now are grown so stiff.<br>
I will have Gaveston; and you shall know<br>
What danger 'tis to stand against your king.<br>
<i>Gav.</i> Well done, Ned! [<i>Aside.</i><br>
<i>Lan.</i> My lord, why do you thus incense your peers,<br>
That naturally would love and honour you,<br>
But for that base and obscure Gaveston?<br>
Four earldoms have I, besides Lancaster,—<br>
Derby, Salisbury, Lincoln, Leicester;<br>
These will I sell, to give my soldiers pay,<br>
Ere Gaveston shall stay within the realm:<br>
Therefore, if he be come, expel him straight.<br>
<i>Kent.</i> Barons and earls, your pride hath made me mute;<br>
But know I'll speak, and to the proof, I hope.<br>
I do remember, in my father's days,<br>
Lord Percy of the North, being highly mov'd,<br>
Brav'd Mowbray in presence of the king;<br>
For which, had not his highness lov'd him well,<br>
He should have lost his head; but with his look<br>
Th' undaunted spirit of Percy was appeas'd,<br>
And Mowbray and he were reconcil'd:<br>
Yet dare you brave the king unto his face.—<br>
Brother, revenge it, and let these their heads<br>
Preach upon poles, for trespass of their tongues.<br>
<i>War.</i> O, our heads!<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> Ay, yours; and therefore I would wish you grant.<br>
<i>War.</i> Bridle thy anger, gentle Mortimer.<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> I cannot, nor I will not; I must speak.—<br>
Cousin, our hands I hope shall fence our heads,<br>
And strike off his that makes you threaten us.—<br>
Come, uncle, let us leave the brain-sick king,<br>
And henceforth parley with our naked swords.<br>
<i>E. Mor.</i> Wiltshire hath men enough to save our heads.<br>
<i>War.</i> All Warwickshire will leave him for my sake.<br>
<i>Lan.</i> And northward Lancaster hath many friends.—<br>
Adieu, my lord; and either change your mind,<br>
Or look to see the throne, where you should sit,<br>
To float in blood, and at thy wanton head<br>
The glozing head of thy base minion thrown.<br>
[<i>Exeunt all except King Edward, Kent, Gaveston,<br>
and attendants.</i><br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> I cannot brook these haughty menaces:<br>
Am I a king, and must be over-rul'd!—<br>
Brother, display my ensigns in the field:<br>
I'll bandy with the barons and the earls,<br>
And either die or live with Gaveston.<br>
<i>Gav.</i> I can no longer keep me from my lord. [<i>Comes forward.</i><br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> What, Gaveston! welcome! Kiss not my hand:<br>
Embrace me, Gaveston, as I do thee.<br>
Why shouldst thou kneel? know'st thou not who I am?<br>
Thy friend, thyself, another Gaveston:<br>
Not Hylas was more mourned for of Hercules<br>
Than thou hast been of me since thy exile.<br>
<i>Gav.</i> And, since I went from hence, no soul in hell<br>
Hath felt more torment than poor Gaveston.<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> I know it.—Brother, welcome home my friend.—<br>
Now let the treacherous Mortimers conspire,<br>
And that high-minded Earl of Lancaster:<br>
I have my wish, in that I joy thy sight;<br>
And sooner shall the sea o'erwhelm my land<br>
Than bear the ship that shall transport thee hence.<br>
I here create thee Lord High-chamberlain,<br>
Chief Secretary to the state and me,<br>
Earl of Cornwall, King and Lord of Man.<br>
<i>Gav.</i> My lord, these titles far exceed my worth.<br>
<i>Kent.</i> Brother, the least of these may well suffice<br>
For one of greater birth than Gaveston.<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> Cease, brother, for I cannot brook these words.—<br>
Thy worth, sweet friend, is far above my gifts:<br>
Therefore, to equal it, receive my heart.<br>
If for these dignities thou be envied,<br>
I'll give thee more; for, but to honour thee,<br>
Is Edward pleas'd with kingly regiment.<br>
Fear'st thou thy person? thou shalt have a guard:<br>
Wantest thou gold? go to my treasury:<br>
Wouldst thou be lov'd and fear'd? receive my seal,<br>
Save or condemn, and in our name command<br>
What so thy mind affects, or fancy likes.<br>
<i>Gav.</i> It shall suffice me to enjoy your love;<br>
Which whiles I have, I think myself as great<br>
As Cæsar riding in the Roman street,<br>
With captive kings at his triumphant car.<br>
</p>
<p id="id00012"> <i>Enter the</i> BISHOP OF COVENTRY.</p>
<p id="id00013"><i>K. Edw.</i> Whither goes my Lord of Coventry so fast?<br>
<i>Bish. of Cov.</i> To celebrate your father's exequies.<br>
But is that wicked Gaveston return'd?<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> Ay, priest, and lives to be reveng'd on thee,<br>
That wert the only cause of his exile.<br>
<i>Gav.</i> 'Tis true; and, but for reverence of these robes,<br>
Thou shouldst not plod one foot beyond this place.<br>
<i>Bish. of Cov.</i> I did no more than I was bound to do:<br>
And, Gaveston, unless thou be reclaim'd,<br>
As then I did incense the parliament,<br>
So will I now, and thou shalt back to France.<br>
<i>Gav.</i> Saving your reverence, you must pardon me.<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> Throw off his golden mitre, rend his stole,<br>
And in the channel christen him anew.<br>
<i>Kent.</i> Ay, brother, lay not violent hands on him!<br>
For he'll complain unto the see of Rome.<br>
<i>Gav.</i> Let him complain unto the see of hell:<br>
I'll be reveng'd on him for my exile.<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> No, spare his life, but seize upon his goods:<br>
Be thou lord bishop, and receive his rents,<br>
And make him serve thee as thy chaplain:<br>
I give him thee; here, use him as thou wilt.<br>
<i>Gav.</i> He shall to prison, and there die in bolts.<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> Ay, to the Tower, the Fleet, or where thou wilt.<br>
<i>Bish. of Cov.</i> For this offence be thou accurs'd of God!<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> Who's there? Convey this priest to the Tower.<br>
<i>Bish. of Cov.</i> True, true.<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> But, in the meantime, Gaveston, away,<br>
And take possession of his house and goods.<br>
Come, follow me, and thou shalt have my guard<br>
To see it done, and bring thee safe again.<br>
<i>Gav.</i> What should a priest do with so fair a house?<br>
A prison may beseem his holiness. [<i>Exeunt.</i></p>
<p id="id00014"> <i>Enter, on one side, the elder</i> MORTIMER, <i>and the younger</i><br>
MORTIMER; <i>on the other,</i> WARWICK, <i>and</i> LANCASTER.<br>
</p>
<p id="id00015"><i>War.</i> 'Tis true, the bishop is in the Tower,<br>
And goods and body given to Gaveston.<br>
<i>Lan.</i> What, will they tyrannise upon the church?<br>
Ah, wicked King! accursed Gaveston!<br>
This ground, which is corrupted with their steps,<br>
Shall be their timeless sepulchre or mine.<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> Well, let that peevish Frenchman guard him sure;<br>
Unless his breast be sword-proof, he shall die.<br>
<i>E. Mor.</i> How now! why droops the Earl of Lancaster?<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> Wherefore is Guy of Warwick discontent?<br>
<i>Lan.</i> That villain Gaveston is made an earl.<br>
<i>E. Mor.</i> An earl!<br>
<i>War.</i> Ay, and besides Lord-chamberlain of the realm,<br>
And Secretary too, and Lord of Man.<br>
<i>E. Mor.</i> We may not nor we will not suffer this.<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> Why post we not from hence to levy men?<br>
<i>Lan.</i> "My Lord of Cornwall" now at every word;<br>
And happy is the man whom he vouchsafes,<br>
For vailing of his bonnet, one good look.<br>
Thus, arm in arm, the king and he doth march:<br>
Nay, more, the guard upon his lordship waits,<br>
And all the court begins to flatter him.<br>
<i>War.</i> Thus leaning on the shoulder of the king,<br>
He nods, and scorns, and smiles at those that pass.<br>
<i>E. Mor.</i> Doth no man take exceptions at the slave?<br>
<i>Lan.</i> All stomach him, but none dare speak a word.<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> Ah, that bewrays their baseness, Lancaster!<br>
Were all the earls and barons of my mind,<br>
We'd hale him from the bosom of the king,<br>
And at the court-gate hang the peasant up,<br>
Who, swoln with venom of ambitious pride,<br>
Will be the ruin of the realm and us.<br>
<i>War.</i> Here comes my Lord of Canterbury's grace.<br>
<i>Lan.</i> His countenance bewrays he is displeas'd.<br>
</p>
<p id="id00016" style="margin-top: 2em"> <i>Enter the</i> ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY, <i>and an</i><br>
Attendant.<br>
</p>
<p id="id00017"><i>Archb. of Cant.</i> First, were his sacred garments rent and torn;<br>
Then laid they violent hands upon him; next,<br>
Himself imprison'd, and his goods asseiz'd:<br>
This certify the Pope: away, take horse. [<i>Exit Attendant.</i><br>
<i>Lan.</i> My lord, will you take arms against the king?<br>
<i>Archb. of Cant.</i> What need I? God himself is up in arms<br>
When violence is offer'd to the church.<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> Then will you join with us, that be his peers,<br>
To banish or behead that Gaveston?<br>
<i>Archb. of Cant.</i> What else, my lords? for it concerns me near;<br>
The bishoprick of Coventry is his.<br>
</p>
<p id="id00018"> <i>Enter</i> QUEEN ISABELLA.</p>
<p id="id00019"><i>Y. Mor.</i> Madam, whither walks your majesty so fast?<br>
<i>Q. Isab.</i> Unto the forest, gentle Mortimer,<br>
To live in grief and baleful discontent;<br>
For now my lord the king regards me not,<br>
But dotes upon the love of Gaveston:<br>
He claps his cheeks, and hangs about his neck,<br>
Smiles in his face, and whispers in his ears;<br>
And, when I come, he frowns, as who should say,<br>
"Go whither thou wilt, seeing I have Gaveston."<br>
<i>E. Mor.</i> Is it not strange that he is thus bewitch'd?<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> Madam, return unto the court again:<br>
That sly inveigling Frenchman we'll exile,<br>
Or lose our lives; and yet, ere that day come,<br>
The king shall lose his crown; for we have power,<br>
And courage too, to be reveng'd at full.<br>
<i>Archb. of Cant.</i> But yet lift not your swords against the king.<br>
<i>Lan.</i> No; but we will lift Gaveston from hence.<br>
<i>War.</i> And war must be the means, or he'll stay still.<br>
<i>Q. Isab.</i> Then let him stay; for, rather than my lord<br>
Shall be oppress'd with civil mutinies,<br>
I will endure a melancholy life,<br>
And let him frolic with his minion.<br>
<i>Archb. of Cant.</i> My lords, to ease all this, but hear me speak:<br>
We and the rest, that are his counsellors,<br>
Will meet, and with a general consent<br>
Confirm his banishment with our hands and seals.<br>
<i>Lan.</i> What we confirm the king will frustrate.<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> Then may we lawfully revolt from him.<br>
<i>War.</i> But say, my lord, where shall this meeting be?<br>
<i>Archb. of Cant.</i> At the New Temple.<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> Content.<br>
<i>Archb. of Cant.</i> And, in the meantime, I'll entreat you all<br>
To cross to Lambeth, and there stay with me.<br>
<i>Lan.</i> Come, then, let's away.<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> Madam, farewell.<br>
<i>Q. Isab.</i> Farewell, sweet Mortimer, and, for my sake,<br>
Forbear to levy arms against the king.<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> Ay, if words will serve; if not, I must. [<i>Exeunt.</i><br>
</p>
<p id="id00020"> <i>Enter</i> GAVESTON <i>and</i> KENT.</p>
<p id="id00021"><i>Gav.</i> Edmund, the mighty prince of Lancaster,<br>
That hath more earldoms than an ass can bear,<br>
And both the Mortimers, two goodly men,<br>
With Guy of Warwick, that redoubted knight,<br>
Are gone towards Lambeth: there let them remain. [<i>Exeunt.</i><br>
</p>
<p id="id00022"><i>Enter</i> LANCASTER, WARWICK, PEMBROKE, <i>the elder</i><br>
MORTIMER, <i>the younger</i> MORTIMER, <i>the</i> ARCHBISHOP<br>
OF CANTERBURY, <i>and</i> Attendants.<br>
</p>
<p id="id00023"><i>Lan.</i> Here is the form of Gaveston's exile;<br>
May it please your lordship to subscribe your name.<br>
<i>Archb. of Cant.</i> Give me the paper.<br>
[<i>He subscribes, as the others do after him.</i><br>
<i>Lan.</i> Quick, quick, my lord; I long to write my name.<br>
<i>War.</i> But I long more to see him banish'd hence.<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> The name of Mortimer shall fright the king,<br>
Unless he be declin'd from that base peasant.</p>
<p id="id00024"> <i>Enter</i> KING EDWARD, GAVESTON, <i>and</i> KENT.</p>
<p id="id00025"><i>K. Edw.</i> What, are you mov'd that Gaveston sits here?<br>
It is our pleasure; we will have it so.<br>
<i>Lan.</i> Your grace doth well to place him by your side,<br>
For nowhere else the new earl is so safe.<br>
<i>E. Mor.</i> What man of noble birth can brook this sight?<br>
<i>Quam male conveniunt!—</i><br>
See, what a scornful look the peasant casts!<br>
<i>Pem.</i> Can kingly lions fawn on creeping ants?<br>
<i>War.</i> Ignoble vassal, that, like Phaeton,<br>
Aspir'st unto the guidance of the sun!<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> Their downfall is at hand, their forces down:<br>
We will not thus be fac'd and over-peer'd.<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> Lay hands on that traitor Mortimer!<br>
<i>E. Mor.</i> Lay hands on that traitor Gaveston!<br>
<i>Kent.</i> Is this the duty that you owe your king?<br>
<i>War.</i> We know our duties; let him know his peers.<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> Whither will you bear him? stay, or ye shall die.<br>
<i>E. Mor.</i> We are no traitors; therefore threaten not.<br>
<i>Gav.</i> No, threaten not, my lord, but pay them home.<br>
Were I a king—<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> Thou, villain! wherefore talk'st thou of a king,<br>
That hardly art a gentleman by birth?<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> Were he a peasant, being my minion,<br>
I'll make the proudest of you stoop to him.<br>
<i>Lan.</i> My lord—you may not thus disparage us.—<br>
Away, I say, with hateful Gaveston!<br>
<i>E. Mor.</i> And with the Earl of Kent that favours him.<br>
[<i>Attendants remove Gaveston and Kent.</i><br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> Nay, then, lay violent hands upon your king:<br>
Here, Mortimer, sit thou in Edward's throne;<br>
Warwick and Lancaster, wear you my crown.<br>
Was ever king thus over-rul'd as I?<br>
<i>Lan.</i> Learn, then, to rule us better, and the realm.<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> What we have done, our heart-blood shall maintain.<br>
<i>War.</i> Think you that we can brook this upstart['s] pride?<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> Anger and wrathful fury stops my speech.<br>
<i>Archb. of Cant.</i> Why are you not mov'd? be patient, my lord,<br>
And see what we your counsellors have done.<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> My lords, now let us all be resolute,<br>
And either have our wills, or lose our lives.<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> Meet you for this, proud over-daring peers!<br>
Ere my sweet Gaveston shall part from me,<br>
This isle shall fleet upon the ocean,<br>
And wander to the unfrequented Inde.<br>
<i>Archb. of Cant.</i> You know that I am legate to the Pope:<br>
On your allegiance to the see of Rome,<br>
Subscribe, as we have done, to his exile.<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> Curse him, if he refuse; and then may we<br>
Depose him, and elect another king.<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> Ay, there it goes! but yet I will not yield:<br>
Curse me, depose me, do the worst you can.<br>
<i>Lan.</i> Then linger not, my lord, but do it straight.<br>
<i>Archb. of Cant.</i> Remember how the bishop was abus'd:<br>
Either banish him that was the cause thereof,<br>
Or I will presently discharge these lords<br>
Of duty and allegiance due to thee.<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> It boots me not to threat; I must speak fair:<br>
The legate of the Pope will be obey'd.— [<i>Aside.</i><br>
My lord, you shall be Chancellor of the realm;<br>
Thou, Lancaster, High-Admiral of our fleet;<br>
Young Mortimer and his uncle shall be earls;<br>
And you, Lord Warwick, President of the North;<br>
And thou of Wales. If this content you not,<br>
Make several kingdoms of this monarchy,<br>
And share it equally amongst you all,<br>
So I may have some nook or corner left,<br>
To frolic with my dearest Gaveston.<br>
<i>Archb. of Cant.</i> Nothing shall alter us; we are resolv'd.<br>
<i>Lan.</i> Come, come, subscribe.<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> Why should you love him whom the world hates so?<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> Because he loves me more than all the world.<br>
Ah, none but rude and savage-minded men<br>
Would seek the ruin of my Gaveston!<br>
You that be noble-born should pity him.<br>
<i>War.</i> You that are princely-born should shake him off:<br>
For shame, subscribe, and let the clown depart.<br>
<i>E. Mor.</i> Urge him, my lord.<br>
<i>Archb. of Cant.</i> Are you content to banish him the realm?<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> I see I must, and therefore am content:<br>
Instead of ink, I'll write it with my tears. [<i>Subscribes.</i><br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> The king is love-sick for his minion.<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> 'Tis done: and now, accursed hand, fall off!<br>
<i>Lan.</i> Give it me: I'll have it publish'd in the streets.<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> I'll see him presently despatch'd away.<br>
<i>Archb. of Cant.</i> Now is my heart at ease.<br>
<i>War.</i> And so is mine.<br>
<i>Pem.</i> This will be good news to the common sort.<br>
<i>E. Mor.</i> Be it or no, he shall not linger here.<br>
[<i>Exeunt all except King Edward.</i><br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> How fast they run to banish him I love!<br>
They would not stir, were it to do me good.<br>
Why should a king be subject to a priest?<br>
Proud Rome, that hatchest such imperial grooms,<br>
With these thy superstitious taper-lights,<br>
Wherewith thy antichristian churches blaze,<br>
I'll fire thy crazed buildings, and enforce<br>
The papal towers to kiss the lowly ground,<br>
With slaughter'd priests make Tiber's channel swell,<br>
And banks rais'd higher with their sepulchres!<br>
As for the peers, that back the clergy thus,<br>
If I be king, not one of them shall live.<br>
</p>
<p id="id00026"> <i>Re-enter</i> GAVESTON.</p>
<p id="id00027"><i>Gav.</i> My lord, I hear it whisper'd everywhere,<br>
That I am banish'd and must fly the land.<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> 'Tis true, sweet Gaveston: O were it false!<br>
The legate of the Pope will have it so,<br>
And thou must hence, or I shall be depos'd.<br>
But I will reign to be reveng'd of them;<br>
And therefore, sweet friend, take it patiently.<br>
Live where thou wilt, I'll send thee gold enough;<br>
And long thou shalt not stay; or, if thou dost,<br>
I'll come to thee; my love shall ne'er decline.<br>
<i>Gav.</i> Is all my hope turn'd to this hell of grief?<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> Rend not my heart with thy too-piercing words:<br>
Thou from this land, I from myself am banish'd.<br>
<i>Gav.</i> To go from hence grieves not poor Gaveston;<br>
But to forsake you, in whose gracious looks<br>
The blessedness of Gaveston remains;<br>
For nowhere else seeks he felicity.<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> And only this torments my wretched soul,<br>
That, whether I will or no, thou must depart.<br>
Be governor of Ireland in my stead,<br>
And there abide till fortune call thee home.<br>
Here, take my picture, and let me wear thine:<br>
[<i>They exchange pictures.</i><br>
O, might I keep thee here, as I do this,<br>
Happy were I! but now most miserable.<br>
<i>Gav.</i> 'Tis something to be pitied of a king.<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> Thou shalt not hence; I'll hide thee, Gaveston.<br>
<i>Gav.</i> I shall be found, and then 'twill grieve me more.<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> Kind words and mutual talk makes our grief greater:<br>
Therefore, with dumb embracement, let us part,<br>
Stay, Gaveston; I cannot leave thee thus.<br>
<i>Gav.</i> For every look, my love drops down a tear:<br>
Seeing I must go, do not renew my sorrow.<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> The time is little that thou hast to stay,<br>
And, therefore, give me leave to look my fill.<br>
But, come, sweet friend; I'll bear thee on thy way.<br>
<i>Gav.</i> The peers will frown.<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> I pass not for their anger. Come, let's go:<br>
O, that we might as well return as go!<br>
</p>
<p id="id00028"> <i>Enter</i> QUEEN ISABELLA.</p>
<p id="id00029"><i>Q. Isab.</i> Whither goes my lord?<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> Fawn not on me, French strumpet; get thee gone!<br>
<i>Q. Isab.</i> On whom but on my husband should I fawn?<br>
<i>Gav.</i> On Mortimer; with whom, ungentle queen,—<br>
I judge no more—judge you the rest, my lord.<br>
<i>Q. Isab.</i> In saying this, thou wrong'st me, Gaveston:<br>
Is't not enough that thou corrupt'st my lord,<br>
And art a bawd to his affections,<br>
But thou must call mine honour thus in question?<br>
<i>Gav.</i> I mean not so; your grace must pardon me.<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> Thou art too familiar with that Mortimer,<br>
And by thy means is Gaveston exil'd:<br>
But I would wish thee reconcile the lords,<br>
Or thou shalt ne'er be reconcil'd to me.<br>
<i>Q. Isab.</i> Your highness knows, it lies not in my power.<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> Away, then! touch me not.—Come, Gaveston.<br>
<i>Q. Isab.</i> Villain, 'tis thou that robb'st me of my lord.<br>
<i>Gav.</i> Madam, 'tis you that rob me of my lord.<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> Speak not unto her: let her droop and pine.<br>
<i>Q. Isab.</i> Wherein, my lord, have I deserv'd these words?<br>
Witness the tears that Isabella sheds,<br>
Witness this heart, that, sighing for thee, breaks,<br>
How dear my lord is to poor Isabel!<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> And witness heaven how dear thou art to me:<br>
There weep; for, till my Gaveston be repeal'd,<br>
Assure thyself thou com'st not in my sight.<br>
[<i>Exeunt King Edward and Gaveston.</i><br>
<i>Q. Isab.</i> O miserable and distressed queen!<br>
Would, when I left sweet France, and was embarked,<br>
That charming Circe, walking on the waves,<br>
Had chang'd my shape! or at the marriage-day<br>
The cup of Hymen had been full of poison!<br>
Or with those arms, that twin'd about my neck,<br>
I had been stifled, and not liv'd to see<br>
The king my lord thus to abandon me!<br>
Like frantic Juno, will I fill the earth<br>
With ghastly murmur of my sighs and cries;<br>
For never doted Jove on Ganymede<br>
So much as he on cursed Gaveston:<br>
But that will more exasperate his wrath;<br>
I must entreat him, I must speak him fair,<br>
And be a means to call home Gaveston:<br>
And yet he'll ever dote on Gaveston;<br>
And so am I for ever miserable.<br>
</p>
<p id="id00030"> <i>Re-enter</i> LANCASTER, WARWICK, PEMBROKE, <i>the elder</i><br>
MORTIMER, <i>and the younger</i> MORTIMER.<br>
</p>
<p id="id00031"><i>Lan.</i> Look, where the sister of the king of France<br>
Sits wringing of her hands and beats her breast!<br>
<i>War.</i> The king, I fear, hath ill-treated her.<br>
<i>Pem.</i> Hard is the heart that injures such a saint.<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> I know 'tis 'long of Gaveston she weeps.<br>
<i>E. Mor.</i> Why, he is gone.<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> Madam, how fares your grace?<br>
<i>Q. Isab.</i> Ah, Mortimer, now breaks the king's hate forth,<br>
And he confesseth that he loves me not!<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> Cry quittance, madam, then, and love not him.<br>
<i>Q. Isab.</i> No, rather will I die a thousand deaths:<br>
And yet I love in vain; he'll ne'er love me.<br>
<i>Lan.</i> Fear ye not, madam; now his minion's gone,<br>
His wanton humour will be quickly left.<br>
<i>Q. Isab.</i> O, never, Lancaster! I am enjoin'd,<br>
To sue unto you all for his repeal:<br>
This wills my lord, and this must I perform,<br>
Or else be banish'd from his highness' presence.<br>
<i>Lan.</i> For his repeal, madam! he comes not back,<br>
Unless the sea cast up his shipwreck'd body.<br>
<i>War.</i> And to behold so sweet a sight as that,<br>
There's none here but would run his horse to death.<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> But, madam, would you have us call him home?<br>
<i>Q. Isab.</i> Ay, Mortimer, for, till he be restor'd,<br>
The angry king hath banish'd me the court;<br>
And, therefore, as thou lov'st and tender'st me,<br>
Be thou my advocate unto these peers.<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> What, would you have me plead for Gaveston?<br>
<i>E. Mor.</i> Plead for him that will, I am resolv'd.<br>
<i>Lan.</i> And so am I, my lord: dissuade the queen.<br>
<i>Q. Isab.</i> O, Lancaster, let him dissuade the king!<br>
For 'tis against my will he should return.<br>
<i>War.</i> Then speak not for him; let the peasant go.<br>
<i>Q. Isab.</i> 'Tis for myself I speak, and not for him.<br>
<i>Pem.</i> No speaking will prevail; and therefore cease.<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> Fair queen, forbear to angle for the fish<br>
Which, being caught, strikes him that takes it dead;<br>
I mean that vile torpedo, Gaveston,<br>
That now, I hope, floats on the Irish seas.<br>
<i>Q. Isab.</i> Sweet Mortimer, sit down by me a while,<br>
And I will tell thee reasons of such weight<br>
As thou wilt soon subscribe to his repeal.<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> It is impossible: but speak your mind.<br>
<i>Q. Isab.</i> Then, thus;—but none shall hear it but ourselves.<br>
[<i>Talks to Y. Mor. apart.</i><br>
<i>Lan.</i> My lords, albeit the queen win Mortimer,<br>
Will you be resolute and hold with me?<br>
<i>E. Mor.</i> Not I, against my nephew.<br>
<i>Pem.</i> Fear not; the queen's words cannot alter him.<br>
<i>War.</i> No? do but mark how earnestly she pleads!<br>
<i>Lan.</i> And see how coldly his looks make denial!<br>
<i>War.</i> She smiles: now, for my life, his mind is chang'd!<br>
<i>Lan.</i> I'll rather lose his friendship, I, than grant.<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> Well, of necessity it must be so.—<br>
My lords, that I abhor base Gaveston<br>
I hope your honours make no question.<br>
And therefore, though I plead for his repeal,<br>
'Tis not for his sake, but to our avail;<br>
Nay, for the realm's behoof, and for the king's.<br>
<i>Lan.</i> Fie, Mortimer, dishonour not thyself!<br>
Can this be true, 'twas good to banish him?<br>
And is this true, to call him home again?<br>
Such reasons make white black, and dark night day.<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> My Lord of Lancaster, mark the respect.<br>
<i>Lan.</i> In no respect can contraries be true.<br>
<i>Q. Isab.</i> Yet, good my lord, hear what he can allege.<br>
<i>War.</i> All that he speaks is nothing; we are resolv'd.<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> Do you not wish that Gaveston were dead?<br>
<i>Pem.</i> I would he were!<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> Why, then, my lord, give me but leave to speak.<br>
<i>E. Mor.</i> But, nephew, do not play the sophister.<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> This which I urge is of a burning zeal<br>
To mend the king and do our country good.<br>
Know you not Gaveston hath store of gold,<br>
Which may in Ireland purchase him such friends<br>
As he will front the mightiest of us all?<br>
And whereas he shall live and be belov'd,<br>
'Tis hard for us to work his overthrow.<br>
<i>War.</i> Mark you but that, my lord of Lancaster.<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> But, were he here, detested as he is,<br>
How easily might some base slave be suborn'd<br>
To greet his lordship with a poniard,<br>
And none so much as blame the murderer,<br>
But rather praise him for that brave attempt,<br>
And in the chronicle enrol his name<br>
For purging of the realm of such a plague!<br>
<i>Pem.</i> He saith true.<br>
<i>Lan.</i> Ay, but how chance this was not done before?<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> Because, my lords, it was not thought upon.<br>
Nay, more, when he shall know it lies in us<br>
To banish him, and then to call him home,<br>
'Twill make him vail the top flag of his pride,<br>
And fear to offend the meanest nobleman.<br>
<i>E. Mor.</i> But how if he do not, nephew?<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> Then may we with some colour rise in arms;<br>
For, howsoever we have borne it out,<br>
'Tis treason to be up against the king;<br>
So shall we have the people of our side,<br>
Which, for his father's sake, lean to the king,<br>
But cannot brook a night-grown mushroom,<br>
Such a one as my Lord of Cornwall is,<br>
Should bear us down of the nobility:<br>
And, when the commons and the nobles join,<br>
'Tis not the king can buckler Gaveston;<br>
We'll pull him from the strongest hold he hath.<br>
My lords, if to perform this I be slack,<br>
Think me as base a groom as Gaveston.<br>
<i>Lan.</i> On that condition Lancaster will grant.<br>
<i>War.</i> And so will Pembroke and I.<br>
<i>E. Mor.</i> And I.<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> In this I count me highly gratified,<br>
And Mortimer will rest at your command.<br>
<i>Q. Isab.</i> And when this favour Isabel forgets,<br>
Then let her live abandon'd and forlorn.—<br>
But see, in happy time, my lord the king,<br>
Having brought the Earl of Cornwall on his way,<br>
Is new return'd. This news will glad him much:<br>
Yet not so much as me; I love him more<br>
Than he can Gaveston: would he lov'd me<br>
But half so much! then were I treble-blest.<br>
</p>
<p id="id00032"> <i>Re-enter</i> KING EDWARD, <i>mourning.</i></p>
<p id="id00033"><i>K. Edw.</i> He's gone, and for his absence thus I mourn:<br>
Did never sorrow go so near my heart<br>
As doth the want of my sweet Gaveston;<br>
And, could my crown's revenue bring him back,<br>
I would freely give it to his enemies,<br>
And think I gain'd, having bought so dear a friend.<br>
<i>Q. Isab.</i> Hark, how he harps upon his minion!<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> My heart is as an anvil unto sorrow,<br>
Which beats upon it like the Cyclops' hammers,<br>
And with the noise turns up my giddy brain,<br>
And makes me frantic for my Gaveston.<br>
Ah, had some bloodless Fury rose from hell,<br>
And with my kingly sceptre struck me dead,<br>
When I was forc'd to leave my Gaveston!<br>
<i>Lan. Diablo,</i> what passions call you these?<br>
<i>Q. Isab.</i> My gracious lord, I come to bring you news.<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> That you have parled with your Mortimer?<br>
<i>Q. Isab.</i> That Gaveston, my lord, shall be repeal'd.<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> Repeal'd! the news is too sweet to be true.<br>
<i>Q. Isab.</i> But will you love me, if you find it so?<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> If it be so, what will not Edward do?<br>
<i>Q. Isab.</i> For Gaveston, but not for Isabel.<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> For thee, fair queen, if thou lov'st Gaveston;<br>
I'll hang a golden tongue about thy neck,<br>
Seeing thou hast pleaded with so good success.<br>
<i>Q. Isab.</i> No other jewels hang about my neck<br>
Than these, my lord; nor let me have more wealth<br>
Than I may fetch from this rich treasury.<br>
O, how a kiss revives poor Isabel!<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> Once more receive my hand; and let this be<br>
A second marriage 'twixt thyself and me.<br>
<i>Q. Isab.</i> And may it prove more happy than the first!<br>
My gentle lord, bespeak these nobles fair,<br>
That wait attendance for a gracious look,<br>
And on their knees salute your majesty.<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> Courageous Lancaster, embrace thy king;<br>
And, as gross vapours perish by the sun,<br>
Even so let hatred with thy sovereign's smile:<br>
Live thou with me as my companion.<br>
<i>Lan.</i> This salutation overjoys my heart.<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> Warwick shall be my chiefest counsellor:<br>
These silver hairs will more adorn my court<br>
Than gaudy silks or rich embroidery.<br>
Chide me, sweet Warwick, if I go astray.<br>
<i>War.</i> Slay me, my lord, when I offend your grace.<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> In solemn triumphs and in public shows<br>
Pembroke shall bear the sword before the king.<br>
<i>Pem.</i> And with this sword Pembroke will fight for you.<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> But wherefore walks young Mortimer aside?<br>
Be thou commander of our royal fleet;<br>
Or, if that lofty office like thee not,<br>
I make thee here Lord Marshal of the realm.<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> My lord, I'll marshal so your enemies,<br>
As England shall be quiet, and you safe.<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> And as for you, Lord Mortimer of Chirke,<br>
Whose great achievements in our foreign war<br>
Deserve no common place nor mean reward,<br>
Be you the general of the levied troops<br>
That now are ready to assail the Scots.<br>
<i>E. Mor.</i> In this your grace hath highly honour'd me,<br>
For with my nature war doth best agree.<br>
<i>Q. Isab.</i> Now is the king of England rich and strong,<br>
Having the love of his renowmed peers.<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> Ay, Isabel, ne'er was my heart so light.—<br>
Clerk of the crown, direct our warrant forth,<br>
For Gaveston, to Ireland!<br>
</p>
<p id="id00034"> <i>Enter</i> BEAUMONT <i>with warrant.</i></p>
<p id="id00035"> Beaumont,
fly<br>
As fast as Iris or Jove's Mercury.<br>
<i>Beau.</i> It shall be done, my gracious lord. [<i>Exit.</i><br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> Lord Mortimer, we leave you to your charge.<br>
Now let us in, and feast it royally.<br>
Against our friend the Earl of Cornwall comes<br>
We'll have a general tilt and tournament;<br>
And then his marriage shall be solemnis'd;<br>
For wot you not that I have made him sure<br>
Unto our cousin, the Earl of Glocester's heir?<br>
<i>Lan.</i> Such news we hear, my lord.<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> That day, if not for him, yet for my sake,<br>
Who in the triumph will be challenger,<br>
Spare for no cost; we will requite your love.<br>
<i>War.</i> In this or aught your highness shall command us.<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> Thanks, gentle Warwick. Come, lets in and revel.<br>
[<i>Exeunt all except the elder Mortimer and the<br>
younger
Mortimer.</i><br>
<i>E. Mor.</i> Nephew, I must to Scotland; thou stay'st here.<br>
Leave now to oppose thyself against the king:<br>
Thou seest by nature he is mild and calm;<br>
And, seeing his mind so dotes on Gaveston,<br>
Let him without controlment have his will.<br>
The mightiest kings have had their minions;<br>
Great Alexander lov'd Hephæstion,<br>
The conquering Hercules for Hylas wept,<br>
And for Patroclus stern Achilles droop'd<br>
And not kings only, but the wisest men;<br>
The Roman Tully lov'd Octavius,<br>
Grave Socrates wild Alcibiades.<br>
Then let his grace, whose youth is flexible,<br>
And promiseth as much as we can wish,<br>
Freely enjoy that vain light-headed earl;<br>
For riper years will wean him from such toys.<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> Uncle, his wanton humour grieves not me;<br>
But this I scorn, that one so basely-born<br>
Should by his sovereign's favour grow so pert,<br>
And riot it with the treasure of the realm,<br>
While soldiers mutiny for want of pay.<br>
He wears a lord's revenue on his back,<br>
And, Midas-like, he jets it in the court,<br>
With base outlandish cullions at his heels,<br>
Whose proud fantastic liveries make such show<br>
As if that Proteus, god of shapes, appear'd.<br>
I have not seen a dapper Jack so brisk:<br>
He wears a short Italian hooded cloak,<br>
Larded with pearl, and in his Tuscan cap<br>
A jewel of more value than the crown.<br>
While others walk below, the king and he,<br>
From out a window, laugh at such as we,<br>
And flout our train, and jest at our attire.<br>
Uncle, 'tis this that makes me impatient.<br>
<i>E. Mor.</i> But, nephew, now you see the king is chang'd.<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> Then so I am, and live to do him service:<br>
But, whiles I have a sword, a hand, a heart,<br>
I will not yield to any such upstart.<br>
You know my mind: come, uncle, let's away. [<i>Exeunt.</i><br>
</p>
<p id="id00036"> <i>Enter the younger</i> SPENSER <i>and</i> BALDOCK.</p>
<p id="id00037"><i>Bald.</i> Spenser,<br>
Seeing that our lord the Earl of Glocester's dead,<br>
Which of the nobles dost thou mean to serve?<br>
<i>Y. Spen.</i> Not Mortimer, nor any of his side,<br>
Because the king and he are enemies.<br>
Baldock, learn this of me: a factious lord<br>
Shall hardly do himself good, much less us;<br>
But he that hath the favour of a king<br>
May with one word advance us while we live.<br>
The liberal Earl of Cornwall is the man<br>
On whose good fortune Spenser's hope depends.<br>
<i>Bald.</i> What, mean you, then, to be his follower?<br>
<i>Y. Spen.</i> No, his companion; for he loves me well,<br>
And would have once preferr'd me to the king.<br>
<i>Bald.</i> But he is banish'd; there's small hope of him.<br>
<i>Y. Spen.</i> Ay, for a while; but, Baldock, mark the end.<br>
A friend of mine told me in secrecy<br>
That he's repeal'd and sent for back again;<br>
And even now a post came from the court<br>
With letters to our lady from the king;<br>
And, as she read, she smil'd; which makes me think<br>
It is about her lover Gaveston.<br>
<i>Bald.</i> 'Tis like enough; for, since he was exil'd,<br>
She neither walks abroad nor comes in sight.<br>
But I had thought the match had been broke off,<br>
And that his banishment had chang'd her mind.<br>
<i>Y. Spen.</i> Our lady's first love is not wavering;<br>
My life for thine, she will have Gaveston.<br>
<i>Bald.</i> Then hope I by her means to be preferr'd,<br>
Having read unto her since she was a child.<br>
<i>Y. Spen.</i> Then, Baldock, you must cast the scholar off,<br>
And learn to court it like a gentleman.<br>
'Tis not a black coat and a little band,<br>
A velvet-cap'd cloak, fac'd before with serge,<br>
And smelling to a nosegay all the day,<br>
Or holding of a napkin in your hand,<br>
Or saying a long grace at a table's end,<br>
Or making low legs to a nobleman,<br>
Or looking downward, with your eye-lids close,<br>
And saying, "Truly, an't may please your honour,"<br>
Can get you any favour with great men:<br>
You must be proud, bold, pleasant, resolute,<br>
And now and then stab, as occasion serves.<br>
<i>Bald.</i> Spenser, thou know'st I hate such formal toys,<br>
And use them but of mere hypocrisy.<br>
Mine old lord, whiles he liv'd, was so precise,<br>
That he would take exceptions at my buttons,<br>
And, being like pins' heads, blame me for the bigness;<br>
Which made me curate-like in mine attire,<br>
Though inwardly licentious enough,<br>
And apt for any kind of villany.<br>
I am none of these common pedants, I,<br>
That cannot speak without <i>propterea quod.</i><br>
<i>Y. Spen.</i> But one of those that saith <i>quando-quidem,</i><br>
And hath a special gift to form a verb.<br>
<i>Bald.</i> Leave off this jesting; here my lady comes.<br>
</p>
<p id="id00038"> <i>Enter</i> KING EDWARD'S Niece.</p>
<p id="id00039"><i>Niece.</i> The grief for his exile was not so much<br>
As is the joy of his returning home.<br>
This letter came from my sweet Gaveston:<br>
What need'st thou, love, thus to excuse thyself?<br>
I know thou couldst not come and visit me. [<i>Reads.</i><br>
<i>I will not long be from thee, though I die;—</i><br>
This argues the entire love of my lord;— [<i>Reads.</i><br>
<i>When I forsake thee, death seize on my heart!—</i><br>
But stay thee here where Gaveston shall sleep.<br>
[<i>Puts the letter into her bosom.</i><br>
Now to the letter of my lord the king:<br>
He wills me to repair unto the court,<br>
And meet my Gaveston: why do I stay,<br>
Seeing that he talks thus of my marriage day?—<br>
Who's there? Baldock!<br>
See that my coach be ready; I must hence.<br>
<i>Bald.</i> It shall be done, madam.<br>
<i>Niece.</i> And meet me at the park-pale presently [<i>Exit Baldock.</i><br>
Spenser, stay you, and bear me company,<br>
For I have joyful news to tell thee of;<br>
My lord of Cornwall is a-coming over,<br>
And will be at the court as soon as we.<br>
<i>Y. Spen.</i> I knew the king would have him home again.<br>
<i>Niece.</i> If all things sort out, as I hope they will,<br>
Thy service, Spenser, shall be thought upon.<br>
<i>Y. Spen.</i> I humbly thank your ladyship.<br>
<i>Niece.</i> Come, lead the way: I long till I am there. [<i>Exeunt.</i><br>
</p>
<p id="id00040"><i>Enter</i> KING EDWARD, QUEEN ISABELLA, KENT, LANCASTER,<br>
<i>the younger</i> MORTIMER, WARWICK, PEMBROKE, <i>and</i><br>
Attendants.<br>
</p>
<p id="id00041"><i>K. Edw.</i> The wind is good; I wonder why he stays:<br>
I fear me he is wreck'd upon the sea.<br>
<i>Q. Isab.</i> Look, Lancaster, how passionate he is,<br>
And still his mind runs on his minion!<br>
<i>Lan.</i> My lord,—<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> How now! what news? is Gaveston arriv'd?<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> Nothing but Gaveston! what means your grace?<br>
You have matters of more weight to think upon:<br>
The King of France sets foot in Normandy.<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> A trifle! we'll expel him when we please.<br>
But tell me, Mortimer, what's thy device<br>
Against the stately triumph we decreed?<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> A homely one, my lord, not worth the telling.<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> Pray thee, let me know it.<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> But, seeing you are so desirous, thus it is;<br>
A lofty cedar tree, fair flourishing,<br>
On whose top branches kingly eagles perch,<br>
And by the bark a canker creeps me up,<br>
And gets unto the highest bough of all;<br>
The motto, <i>Æque tandem.</i><br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> And what is yours, my Lord of Lancaster?<br>
<i>Lan.</i> My lord, mine's more obscure than Mortimer's.<br>
Pliny reports, there is a flying-fish<br>
Which all the other fishes deadly hate,<br>
And therefore, being pursu'd, it takes the air:<br>
No sooner is it up, but there's a fowl<br>
That seizeth it: this fish, my lord, I bear;<br>
The motto this, <i>Undique mors est.</i><br>
<i>Kent.</i> Proud Mortimer! ungentle Lancaster!<br>
Is this the love you bear your sovereign?<br>
Is this the fruit your reconcilement bears?<br>
Can you in words make show of amity,<br>
And in your shields display your rancorous minds?<br>
What call you this but private libelling<br>
Against the Earl of Cornwall and my brother?<br>
<i>Q. Isab.</i> Sweet husband, be content; they all love you.<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> They love me not that hate my Gaveston.<br>
I am that cedar; shake me not too much;<br>
And you the eagles; soar ye ne'er so high,<br>
I have the jesses that will pull you down;<br>
And <i>Æque tandem</i> shall that canker cry<br>
Unto the proudest peer of Britainy.<br>
Thou that compar'st him to a flying-fish,<br>
And threaten'st death whether he rise or fall,<br>
'Tis not the hugest monster of the sea,<br>
Nor foulest harpy, that shall swallow him.<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> If in his absence thus he favours him,<br>
What will he do whenas he shall be present?<br>
<i>Lan.</i> That shall we see: look, where his lordship come!<br>
</p>
<p id="id00042"> <i>Enter</i> GAVESTON.</p>
<p id="id00043"><i>K. Edw.</i> My Gaveston!<br>
Welcome to Tynmouth! welcome to thy friend!<br>
Thy absence made me droop and pine away;<br>
For, as the lovers of fair Danaë,<br>
When she was lock'd up in a brazen tower,<br>
Desir'd her more, and wax'd outrageous,<br>
So did it fare with me: and now thy sight<br>
Is sweeter far than was thy parting hence<br>
Bitter and irksome to my sobbing heart.<br>
<i>Gav.</i> Sweet lord and king, your speech preventeth mine;<br>
Yet have I words left to express my joy:<br>
The shepherd, nipt with biting winter's rage,<br>
Frolics not more to see the painted spring<br>
Than I do to behold your majesty.<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> Will none of you salute my Gaveston?<br>
<i>Lan.</i> Salute him! yes.—Welcome, Lord Chamberlain!<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> Welcome is the good Earl of Cornwall!<br>
<i>War.</i> Welcome, Lord Governor of the Isle of Man!<br>
<i>Pem.</i> Welcome, Master Secretary!<br>
<i>Kent.</i> Brother, do you hear them?<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> Still will these earls and barons use me thus?<br>
<i>Gav.</i> My lord, I cannot brook these injuries.<br>
<i>Q. Isab.</i> Ay me, poor soul, when these begin to jar! [<i>Aside.</i><br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> Return it to their throats; I'll be thy warrant.<br>
<i>Gav.</i> Base, leaden earls, that glory in your birth,<br>
Go sit at home, and eat your tenants' beef;<br>
And come not here to scoff at Gaveston,<br>
Whose mounting thoughts did never creep so low<br>
As to bestow a look on such as you.<br>
<i>Lan.</i> Yet I disdain not to do this for you.<br>
[<i>Draws his sword, and offers to stab Gaveston.</i><br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> Treason! treason! where's the traitor?<br>
<i>Pem.</i> Here, here!<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> Convey hence Gaveston; they'll murder him.<br>
<i>Gav.</i> The life of thee shall salve this foul disgrace.<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> Villain, thy life! unless I miss mine aim. [<i>Wounds Gaveston.</i><br>
<i>Q. Isab.</i> Ah, furious Mortimer, what hast thou done.<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> No more than I would answer, were he slain.<br>
[<i>Exit Gaveston with Attendants.</i><br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> Yes, more than thou canst answer, though he live:<br>
Dear shall you both abide this riotous deed:<br>
Out of my presence! come not near the court.<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> I'll not be barr'd the court for Gaveston.<br>
<i>Lan.</i> We'll hale him by the ears unto the block.<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> Look to your own heads; his is sure enough.<br>
<i>War.</i> Look to your own crown, if you back him thus.<br>
<i>Kent.</i> Warwick, these words do ill beseem thy years.<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> Nay, all of them conspire to cross me thus:<br>
But, if I live, I'll tread upon their heads<br>
That think with high looks thus to tread me down.<br>
Come, Edmund, let's away, and levy men:<br>
'Tis war that must abate these barons' pride.<br>
[<i>Exeunt King Edward, Queen Isabella, and Kent.</i><br>
<i>War.</i> Let's to our castles, for the king is mov'd.<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> Mov'd may he be, and perish in his wrath!<br>
<i>Lan.</i> Cousin, it is no dealing with him now;<br>
He means to make us stoop by force of arms:<br>
And therefore let us jointly here protest<br>
To prosecute that Gaveston to the death.<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> By heaven, the abject villain shall not live!<br>
<i>War.</i> I'll have his blood, or die in seeking it.<br>
<i>Pem.</i> The like oath Pembroke takes.<br>
<i>Lan.</i> And so doth Lancaster.<br>
Now send our heralds to defy the king;<br>
And make the people swear to put him down.</p>
<p id="id00044"> <i>Enter a</i> Messenger.</p>
<p id="id00045"><i>Y. Mor.</i> Letters! from whence?<br>
<i>Mes.</i> From Scotland, my lord. [<i>Giving letters to Mortimer.</i><br>
<i>Lan.</i> Why, how now, cousin! how fare all our friends?<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> My uncle's taken prisoner by the Scots.<br>
<i>Lan.</i> We'll have him ransom'd, man: be of good cheer.<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> They rate his ransom at five thousand pound.<br>
Who should defray the money but the king,<br>
Seeing he is taken prisoner in his wars?<br>
I'll to the king.<br>
<i>Lan.</i> Do, cousin, and I'll bear thee company.<br>
<i>War.</i> Meantime my Lord of Pembroke and myself<br>
Will to Newcastle here, and gather head.<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> About it, then, and we will follow you.<br>
<i>Lan.</i> Be resolute and full of secrecy.<br>
<i>War.</i> I warrant you. [<i>Exit with Pembroke.</i><br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> Cousin, an if he will not ransom him,<br>
I'll thunder such a peal into his ears<br>
As never subject did unto his king.<br>
<i>Lan.</i> Content; I'll bear my part.—Hollo! who's there?</p>
<p id="id00046"> <i>Enter</i> Guard.</p>
<p id="id00047"><i>Y. Mor.</i> Ay, marry, such a guard as this doth well.<br>
<i>Lan.</i> Lead on the way.<br>
<i>Guard.</i> Whither will your lordships?<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> Whither else but to the king?<br>
<i>Guard.</i> His highness is dispos'd to be alone.<br>
<i>Lan.</i> Why, so he may; but we will speak to him.<br>
<i>Guard.</i> You may not in, my lord.<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> May we not?</p>
<p id="id00048"> <i>Enter</i> KING EDWARD <i>and</i> KENT.</p>
<p id="id00049"><i>K. Edw.</i> How now!<br>
What noise is this? who have we here? is't you? [<i>Going.</i><br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> Nay, stay, my lord; I come to bring you news;<br>
Mine uncle's taken prisoner by the Scots.<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> Then ransom him.<br>
<i>Lan.</i> 'Twas in your wars; you should ransom him.<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> And you will ransom him, or else—<br>
<i>Kent.</i> What, Mortimer, you will not threaten him?<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> Quiet yourself; you shall have the broad seal,<br>
To gather for him th[o]roughout the realm.<br>
<i>Lan.</i> Your minion Gaveston hath taught you this.<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> My lord, the family of the Mortimers<br>
Are not so poor, but, would they sell their land,<br>
'Twould levy men enough to anger you.<br>
We never beg, but use such prayers as these.<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> Shall I still be haunted thus?<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> Nay, now you are here alone, I'll speak my mind.<br>
<i>Lan.</i> And so will I; and then, my lord, farewell.<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> The idle triumphs, masks, lascivious shows,<br>
And prodigal gifts bestow'd on Gaveston,<br>
Have drawn thy treasury dry, and made thee weak;<br>
The murmuring commons, overstretched, break.<br>
<i>Lan.</i> Look for rebellion, look to be depos'd:<br>
Thy garrisons are beaten out of France,<br>
And, lame and poor, lie groaning at the gates;<br>
The wild Oneil, with swarms of Irish kerns,<br>
Lives uncontroll'd within the English pale;<br>
Unto the walls of York the Scots make road,<br>
And, unresisted, drive away rich spoils.<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> The haughty Dane commands the narrow seas,<br>
While in the harbour ride thy ships unrigg'd.<br>
<i>Lan.</i> What foreign prince sends thee ambassadors?<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> Who loves thee, but a sort of flatterers?<br>
<i>Lan.</i> Thy gentle queen, sole sister to Valois,<br>
Complains that thou hast left her all forlorn.<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> Thy court is naked, being bereft of those<br>
That make a king seem glorious to the world,<br>
I mean the peers, whom thou shouldst dearly love;<br>
Libels are cast against thee in the street;<br>
Ballads and rhymes made of thy overthrow.<br>
<i>Lan.</i> The northern borderers, seeing their houses burnt,<br>
Their wives and children slain, run up and down,<br>
Cursing the name of thee and Gaveston.<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> When wert thou in the field with banner spread,<br>
But once? and then thy soldiers march'd like players,<br>
With garish robes, not armour; and thyself,<br>
Bedaub'd with gold, rode laughing at the rest,<br>
Nodding and shaking of thy spangled crest,<br>
Where women's favours hung like labels down.<br>
<i>Lan.</i> And thereof came it that the fleering Scots,<br>
To England's high disgrace, have made this jig;<br>
<i>Maids of England, sore may you mourn,<br>
For your lemans you have lost at Bannocksbourn,—<br>
With a heave and a ho!<br>
What weeneth the king of England<br>
So soon to have won Scotland!—<br>
With a rombelow!</i><br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> Wigmore shall fly, to set my uncle free.<br>
<i>Lan.</i> And, when 'tis gone, our swords shall purchase more.<br>
If you be mov'd, revenge it as you can:<br>
Look next to see us with our ensigns spread. [<i>Exit with Y. Mortimer.</i><br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> My swelling heart for very anger breaks:<br>
How oft have I been baited by these peers,<br>
And dare not be reveng'd, for their power is great!<br>
Yet, shall the crowning of these cockerels<br>
Affright a lion? Edward, unfold thy paws,<br>
And let their lives'-blood slake thy fury's hunger.<br>
If I be cruel and grow tyrannous,<br>
Now let them thank themselves, and rue too late.<br>
<i>Kent.</i> My lord, I see your love to Gaveston<br>
Will be the ruin of the realm and you,<br>
For now the wrathful nobles threaten wars;<br>
And therefore, brother, banish him for ever.<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> Art thou an enemy to my Gaveston?<br>
<i>Kent.</i> Ay; and it grieves me that I favour'd him.<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> Traitor, be gone! whine thou with Mortimer.<br>
<i>Kent.</i> So will I, rather than with Gaveston.<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> Out of my sight, and trouble me no more!<br>
<i>Kent.</i> No marvel though thou scorn thy noble peers,<br>
When I thy brother am rejected thus.<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> Away! [<i>Exit Kent.</i><br>
Poor Gaveston, thou hast no friend but me!<br>
Do what they can, we'll live in Tynmouth here;<br>
And, so I walk with him about the walls,<br>
What care I though the earls begirt us round?<br>
Here comes she that is cause of all these jars.<br>
</p>
<p id="id00050"><i>Enter</i> QUEEN ISABELLA, <i>with</i> EDWARD'S NIECE, <i>two</i> Ladies,<br>
GAVESTON, BALDOCK, <i>and the younger</i> SPENSER.<br>
</p>
<p id="id00051"><i>Q. Isab.</i> My lord, 'tis thought the earls are up in arms.<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> Ay, and 'tis likewise thought you favour 'em.<br>
<i>Q. Isab.</i> Thus do you still suspect me without cause.<br>
<i>Niece.</i> Sweet uncle, speak more kindly to the queen.<br>
<i>Gav.</i> My lord, dissemble with her; speak her fair.<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> Pardon me, sweet; I forgot myself.<br>
<i>Q. Isab.</i> Your pardon is quickly got of Isabel.<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> The younger Mortimer is grown so brave,<br>
That to my face he threatens civil wars.<br>
<i>Gav.</i> Why do you not commit him to the Tower?<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> I dare not, for the people love him well.<br>
<i>Gav.</i> Why, then, we'll have him privily made away.<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> Would Lancaster and he had both carous'd<br>
A bowl of poison to each other's health!<br>
But let them go, and tell me what are these.<br>
<i>Niece.</i> Two of my father's servants whilst he liv'd:<br>
May't please your grace to entertain them now.<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> Tell me, where wast thou born? what is thine arms?<br>
<i>Bald.</i> My name is Baldock, and my gentry<br>
I fetch from Oxford, not from heraldry.<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> The fitter art thou, Baldock, for my turn.<br>
Wait on me, and I'll see thou shalt not want.<br>
<i>Bald.</i> I humbly thank your majesty.<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> Knowest thou him, Gaveston.<br>
<i>Gav.</i> Ay, my lord;<br>
His name is Spenser; he is well allied:<br>
For my sake let him wait upon your grace;<br>
Scarce shall you find a man of more desert.<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> Then, Spenser, wait upon me for his sake:<br>
I'll grace thee with a higher style ere long.<br>
<i>Y. Spen.</i> No greater titles happen unto me<br>
Than to be favour'd of your majesty!<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> Cousin, this day shall be your marriage feast:—<br>
And, Gaveston, think that I love thee well,<br>
To wed thee to our niece, the only heir<br>
Unto the Earl of Glocester late deceas'd.<br>
<i>Gav.</i> I know, my lord, many will stomach me;<br>
But I respect neither their love nor hate.<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> The headstrong barons shall not limit me;<br>
He that I list to favour shall be great.<br>
Come, let's away; and, when the marriage ends,<br>
Have at the rebels and their complices! [<i>Exeunt.</i></p>
<p id="id00052"> <i>Enter</i> KENT, LANCASTER, <i>the younger</i> MORTIMER,<br>
WARWICK, PEMBROKE, <i>and others.</i><br>
</p>
<p id="id00053"><i>Kent.</i> My lords, of love to this our native land,<br>
I come to join with you, and leave the king;<br>
And in your quarrel, and the realm's behoof,<br>
Will be the first that shall adventure life.<br>
<i>Lan.</i> I fear me, you are sent of policy,<br>
To undermine us with a show of love.<br>
<i>War.</i> He is your brother; therefore have we cause<br>
To cast the worst, and doubt of your revolt.<br>
<i>Kent.</i> Mine honour shall be hostage of my truth:<br>
If that will not suffice, farewell, my lords.<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> Stay, Edmund: never was Plantagenet<br>
False of his word; and therefore trust we thee.<br>
<i>Pem.</i> But what's the reason you should leave him now?<br>
<i>Kent.</i> I have inform'd the Earl of Lancaster.<br>
<i>Lan.</i> And it sufficeth. Now, my lords, know this,<br>
That Gaveston is secretly arriv'd,<br>
And here in Tynmouth frolics with the king.<br>
Let us with these our followers scale the walls,<br>
And suddenly surprise them unawares.<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> I'll give the onset.<br>
<i>War.</i> And I'll follow thee.<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> This tatter'd ensign of my ancestors,<br>
Which swept the desert shore of that Dead Sea<br>
Whereof we got the name of Mortimer,<br>
Will I advance upon this castle ['s] walls—<br>
Drums, strike alarum, raise them from their sport,<br>
And ring aloud the knell of Gaveston!<br>
<i>Lan.</i> None be so hardy as to touch the king;<br>
But neither spare you Gaveston nor his friends. [<i>Exeunt.</i><br>
</p>
<p id="id00054"> <i>Enter, severally</i> KING EDWARD <i>and the younger</i><br>
SPENSER.<br>
</p>
<p id="id00055"><i>K. Edw.</i> O, tell me, Spenser, where is Gaveston?<br>
<i>Y. Spen.</i> I fear me he is slain, my gracious lord.<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> No, here he comes; now let them spoil and kill.</p>
<p id="id00056"> <i>Enter</i> QUEEN ISABELLA, KING EDWARD'S Niece,<br>
GAVESTON, <i>and</i> Nobles.<br>
</p>
<p id="id00057"> Fly, fly, my lords; the earls have got the hold;<br>
Take shipping, and away to Scarborough:<br>
Spenser and I will post away by land.<br>
<i>Gav.</i> O, stay, my lord! they will not injure you.<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> I will not trust them. Gaveston, away!<br>
<i>Gav.</i> Farewell, my lord.<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> Lady, farewell.<br>
<i>Niece.</i> Farewell, sweet uncle, till we meet again.<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> Farewell, sweet Gaveston; and farewell, niece.<br>
<i>Q. Isab.</i> No farewell to poor Isabel thy queen?<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> Yes, yes, for Mortimer your lover's sake.<br>
<i>Q. Isab.</i> Heavens can witness, I love none but you.<br>
[<i>Exeunt all except Queen Isabella.</i><br>
From my embracements thus he breaks away.<br>
O, that mine arms could close this isle about,<br>
That I might pull him to me where I would!<br>
Or that these tears, that drizzle from mine eyes,<br>
Had power to mollify his stony heart,<br>
That, when I had him, we might never part!<br>
</p>
<p id="id00058"><i>Enter</i> LANCASTER, WARWICK, <i>the younger</i> MORTIMER, <i>and<br>
others. Alarums within.</i><br>
</p>
<p id="id00059"><i>Lan.</i> I wonder how he scap'd.<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> Who's this? the queen!<br>
<i>Q. Isab.</i> Ay, Mortimer, the miserable queen,<br>
Whose pining heart her inward sighs have blasted,<br>
And body with continual mourning wasted:<br>
These hands are tir'd with haling of my lord<br>
From Gaveston, from wicked Gaveston;<br>
And all in vain; for, when I speak him fair,<br>
He turns away, and smiles upon his minion.<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> Cease to lament, and tell us where's the king?<br>
<i>Q. Isab.</i> What would you with the king? is't him you seek?<br>
<i>Lan.</i> No, madam, but that cursed Gaveston:<br>
Far be it from the thought of Lancaster<br>
To offer violence to his sovereign!<br>
We would but rid the realm of Gaveston:<br>
Tell us where he remains, and he shall die.<br>
<i>Q. Isab.</i> He's gone by water unto Scarborough:<br>
Pursue him quickly, and he cannot scape;<br>
The king hath left him, and his train is small.<br>
<i>War.</i> Forslow no time, sweet Lancaster; let's march.<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> How comes it that the king and he is parted?<br>
<i>Q. Isab.</i> That thus your army, going several ways,<br>
Might be of lesser force, and with the power<br>
That he intendeth presently to raise,<br>
Be easily suppress'd: therefore be gone.<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> Here in the river rides a Flemish hoy:<br>
Let's all aboard, and follow him amain.<br>
<i>Lan.</i> The wind that bears him hence will fill our sails;<br>
Come, come, aboard! 'tis but an hour's sailing.<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> Madam, stay you within this castle here.<br>
<i>Q. Isab.</i> No, Mortimer; I'll to my lord the king.<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> Nay, rather sail with us to Scarborough.<br>
<i>Q. Isab.</i> You know the king is so suspicious<br>
As, if he hear I have but talk'd with you,<br>
Mine honour will be call'd in question;<br>
And therefore, gentle Mortimer, be gone.<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> Madam, I cannot stay to answer you:<br>
But think of Mortimer as he deserves.<br>
[<i>Exeunt all except Queen Isabella.</i><br>
<i>Q. Isab.</i> So well hast thou deserv'd, sweet Mortimer,<br>
As Isabel could live with thee for ever.<br>
In vain I look for love at Edward's hand,<br>
Whose eyes are fix'd on none but Gaveston.<br>
Yet once more I'll importune him with prayer:<br>
If he be strange, and not regard my words,<br>
My son and I will over into France,<br>
And to the king my brother there complain<br>
How Gaveston hath robb'd me of his love:<br>
But yet, I hope, my sorrows will have end,<br>
And Gaveston this blessed day be slain. [<i>Exit.</i><br>
</p>
<p id="id00060"> <i>Enter</i> GAVESTON, <i>pursued.</i></p>
<p id="id00061"><i>Gav.</i> Yet, lusty lords, I have escap'd your hands,<br>
Your threats, your 'larums, and your hot pursuits;<br>
And, though divorced from King Edward's eyes,<br>
Yet liveth Pierce of Gaveston unsurpris'd,<br>
Breathing in hope (malgrado all your beards,<br>
That muster rebels thus against your king)<br>
To see his royal sovereign once again.<br>
</p>
<p id="id00062"><i>Enter</i> WARWICK, LANCASTER, PEMBROKE, <i>the younger</i><br>
MORTIMER, Soldiers, JAMES <i>and other</i> Attendants <i>of</i><br>
PENBROKE.<br>
</p>
<p id="id00063"><i>War.</i> Upon him, soldiers! take away his weapons!<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> Thou proud disturber of thy country's peace,<br>
Corrupter of thy king, cause of these broils,<br>
Base flatterer, yield! and, were it not for shame,<br>
Shame and dishonour to a soldier's name,<br>
Upon my weapon's point here shouldst thou fall,<br>
And welter in thy gore.<br>
<i>Lan.</i> Monster of men,<br>
That, like the Greekish strumpet, train'd to arms<br>
And bloody wars so many valiant knights,<br>
Look for no other fortune, wretch, than death!<br>
King Edward is not here to buckler thee.<br>
<i>War.</i> Lancaster, why talk'st thou to the slave?—<br>
Go, soldiers, take him hence; for, by my sword,<br>
His head shall off.—Gaveston, short warning<br>
Shall serve thy turn: it is our country's cause<br>
That here severely we will execute<br>
Upon thy person.—Hang him at a bough.<br>
<i>Gav.</i> My lord,—<br>
<i>War.</i> Soldiers, have him away.—<br>
But, for thou wert the favourite of a king,<br>
Thou shalt have so much honour at our hands.<br>
<i>Gav.</i> I thank you all, my lords: then I perceive<br>
That heading is one, and hanging is the other,<br>
And death is all.<br>
</p>
<p id="id00064"> <i>Enter</i> ARUNDEL.</p>
<p id="id00065"><i>Lan.</i> How now, my Lord of Arundel!<br>
<i>Arun.</i> My lords, King Edward greets you all by me.<br>
<i>War.</i> Arundel, say your message.<br>
<i>Arun.</i> His majesty, hearing that you had taken Gaveston,<br>
Entreateth you by me, yet but he may<br>
See him before he dies; for why, he says,<br>
And sends you word, he knows that die he shall;<br>
And, if you gratify his grace so far,<br>
He will be mindful of the courtesy.<br>
<i>War.</i> How now!<br>
<i>Gav.</i> Renowmed Edward, how thy name<br>
Revives poor Gaveston!<br>
<i>War.</i> No, it needeth not:<br>
Arundel, we will gratify the king<br>
In other matters; he must pardon us in this.—<br>
Soldiers, away with him!<br>
<i>Gav.</i> Why, my Lord of Warwick,<br>
Will now these short delays beget my hopes?<br>
I know it, lords, it is life you aim at,<br>
Yet grant King Edward this.<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> Shalt thou appoint<br>
What we shall grant?—Soldiers, away with him!—<br>
Thus we'll gratify the king;<br>
We'll send his head by thee; let him bestow<br>
His tears on that, for that is all he gets<br>
Of Gaveston, or else his senseless trunk.<br>
<i>Lan.</i> Not so, my lord, lest he bestow more cost<br>
In burying him than he hath ever earn'd.<br>
<i>Arun.</i> My lords, it is his majesty's request,<br>
And in the honour of a king he swears,<br>
He will but talk with him, and send him back.<br>
<i>War.</i> When, can you tell? Arundel, no; we wot<br>
He that the care of his realm remits,<br>
And drives his nobles to these exigents<br>
For Gaveston, will, if he seize him once,<br>
Violate any promise to possess him.<br>
<i>Arun.</i> Then, if you will not trust his grace in keep,<br>
My lords, I will be pledge for his return.<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> 'Tis honourable in thee to offer this;<br>
But, for we know thou art a noble gentleman,<br>
We will not wrong thee so,<br>
To make away a true man for a thief.<br>
<i>Gav.</i> How mean'st thou, Mortimer? that is over-base.<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> Away, base groom, robber of king's renown!<br>
Question with thy companions and mates.<br>
<i>Pem.</i> My Lord Mortimer, and you, my lords, each one,<br>
To gratify the king's request therein,<br>
Touching the sending of this Gaveston,<br>
Because his majesty so earnestly<br>
Desires to see the man before his death,<br>
I will upon mine honour undertake<br>
To carry him, and bring him back again;<br>
Provided this, that you, my Lord of Arundel,<br>
Will join with me.<br>
<i>War.</i> Pembroke, what wilt thou do?<br>
Cause yet more bloodshed? is it not enough<br>
That we have taken him, but must we now<br>
Leave him on "Had I wist," and let him go?<br>
<i>Pem.</i> My lords, I will not over-woo your honours:<br>
But, if you dare trust Pembroke with the prisoner,<br>
Upon mine oath, I will return him back.<br>
<i>Arun.</i> My Lord of Lancaster, what say you in this?<br>
<i>Lan.</i> Why, I say, let him go on Pembroke's word.<br>
<i>Pem.</i> And you, Lord Mortimer?<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> How say you, my Lord of Warwick?<br>
<i>War.</i> Nay, do your pleasures: I know how 'twill prove.<br>
<i>Pem.</i> Then give him me.<br>
<i>Gav.</i> Sweet sovereign, yet I come<br>
To see thee ere I die!<br>
<i>War.</i> Yet not perhaps,<br>
If Warwick's wit and policy prevail. [<i>Aside.</i><br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> My Lord of Pembroke, we deliver him you:<br>
Return him on your honour.—Sound, away!<br>
[<i>Exeunt all except Pembroke, Arundel, Gaveston, James<br>
and
other attendants of Pembroke.</i><br>
<i>Pem.</i> My lord, you shall go with me:<br>
My house is not far hence; out of the way<br>
A little; but our men shall go along.<br>
We that have pretty wenches to our wives,<br>
Sir, must not come so near to balk their lips.<br>
<i>Arun.</i> 'Tis very kindly spoke, my Lord of Pembroke:<br>
Your honour hath an adamant of power<br>
To draw a prince.<br>
<i>Pem.</i> So, my lord.—Come hither, James:<br>
I do commit this Gaveston to thee;<br>
Be thou this night his keeper; in the morning<br>
We will discharge thee of thy charge: be gone.<br>
<i>Gav.</i> Unhappy Gaveston, whither go'st thou now?<br>
[<i>Exit with James and other Attendants of Pembroke.</i><br>
<i>Horse-boy.</i> My lord, we'll quickly be at Cobham. [<i>Exeunt.</i><br>
</p>
<p id="id00066"> <i>Enter</i> GAVESTON <i>mourning,</i> JAMES <i>and other</i> Attendants<br>
<i>of</i> PEMBROKE.<br>
</p>
<p id="id00067"><i>Gav.</i> O treacherous Warwick, thus to wrong thy friend!<br>
<i>James.</i> I see it is your life these arms pursue.<br>
<i>Gav.</i> Weaponless must I fall, and die in bands?<br>
O, must this day be period of my life,<br>
Centre of all my bliss? And ye be men,<br>
Speed to the king.<br>
</p>
<p id="id00068"> <i>Enter</i> WARWICK <i>and</i> Soldiers.</p>
<p id="id00069"><i>War.</i> My Lord of Pembroke's men,<br>
Strive you no longer: I will have that Gaveston.<br>
<i>James.</i> Your lordship doth dishonour to yourself,<br>
And wrong our lord, your honourable friend.<br>
<i>War.</i> No, James, it is my country's cause I follow.—<br>
Go, take the villain: soldiers, come away;<br>
We'll make quick work.—Commend me to your master,<br>
My friend, and tell him that I watch'd it well.—<br>
Come, let thy shadow parley with King Edward.<br>
<i>Gav.</i> Treacherous earl, shall I not see the king?<br>
<i>War.</i> The king of heaven perhaps, no other king.—<br>
Away! [<i>Exeunt Warwick and Soldiers with Gaveston.</i><br>
<i>James.</i> Come, fellows: it booted not for us to strive:<br>
We will in haste go certify our lord. [<i>Exeunt.</i><br>
</p>
<p id="id00070"><i>Enter</i> KING EDWARD, <i>the younger</i> SPENSER, BALDOCK, Noblemen<br>
<i>of the king's side, and</i> Soldiers <i>with drums and fifes.</i><br>
</p>
<p id="id00071"><i>K. Edw.</i> I long to hear an answer from the barons<br>
Touching my friend, my dearest Gaveston.<br>
Ah, Spenser, not the riches of my realm<br>
Can ransom him! ah, he is mark'd to die!<br>
I know the malice of the younger Mortimer;<br>
Warwick I know is rough, and Lancaster<br>
Inexorable; and I shall never see<br>
My lovely Pierce of Gaveston again:<br>
The barons overbear with me their pride.<br>
<i>Y. Spen.</i> Were I King Edward, England's sovereign,<br>
Son to the lovely Eleanor of Spain,<br>
Great Edward Longshanks' issue, would I bear<br>
These braves, this rage, and suffer uncontroll'd<br>
These barons thus to beard me in my land,<br>
In mine own realm? My lord, pardon my speech:<br>
Did you retain your father's magnanimity,<br>
Did you regard the honour of your name,<br>
You would not suffer thus your majesty<br>
Be counterbuff'd of your nobility.<br>
Strike off their heads, and let them preach on poles:<br>
No doubt, such lessons they will teach the rest,<br>
As by their preachments they will profit much,<br>
And learn obedience to their lawful king.<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> Yes, gentle Spenser, we have been too mild,<br>
Too kind to them; but now have drawn our sword,<br>
And, if they send me not my Gaveston,<br>
We'll steel it on their crest[s], and poll their tops.<br>
<i>Bald.</i> This haught resolve becomes your majesty,<br>
Not to be tied to their affection,<br>
As though your highness were a school-boy still,<br>
And must be aw'd and govern'd like a child.<br>
</p>
<p id="id00072"> <i>Enter the elder</i> SPENSER <i>with his truncheon, and</i><br>
Soldiers.<br>
</p>
<p id="id00073"><i>E. Spen.</i> Long live my sovereign, the noble Edward,<br>
In peace triumphant, fortunate in wars!<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> Welcome, old man: com'st thou in Edward's aid?<br>
Then tell thy prince of whence and what thou art.<br>
<i>E. Spen.</i> Low, with a band of bow-men and of pikes,<br>
Brown bills and targeteers, four hundred strong,<br>
Sworn to defend King Edward's royal right,<br>
I come in person to your majesty,<br>
Spenser, the father of Hugh Spenser there,<br>
Bound to your highness everlastingly<br>
For favour done, in him, unto us all.<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> Thy father, Spenser?<br>
<i>Y. Spen.</i> True, an it like your grace,<br>
That pours, in lieu of all your goodness shown,<br>
His life, my lord, before your princely feet.<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> Welcome ten thousand times, old man, again!<br>
Spenser, this love, this kindness to thy king,<br>
Argues thy noble mind and disposition.<br>
Spenser, I here create thee Earl of Wiltshire,<br>
And daily will enrich thee with our favour,<br>
That, as the sunshine, shall reflect o'er thee.<br>
Beside, the more to manifest our love,<br>
Because we hear Lord Bruce doth sell his land,<br>
And that the Mortimers are in hand withal,<br>
Thou shalt have crowns of us t'outbid the barons;<br>
And, Spenser, spare them not, lay it on.—<br>
Soldiers, a largess, and thrice-welcome all!<br>
<i>Y. Spen.</i> My lord, here comes the queen.<br>
</p>
<p id="id00074"> <i>Enter</i> QUEEN ISABELLA, PRINCE EDWARD, <i>and</i><br>
LEVUNE.<br>
</p>
<p id="id00075"><i>K. Edw.</i> Madam, what news?<br>
<i>Q. Isab.</i> News of dishonour, lord, and discontent.<br>
Our friend Levune, faithful and full of trust,<br>
Informeth us, by letters and by words,<br>
That Lord Valois our brother, King of France,<br>
Because your highness hath been slack in homage,<br>
Hath seized Normandy into his hands:<br>
These be the letters, this the messenger.<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> Welcome, Levune.—Tush, Sib, if this be all,<br>
Valois and I will soon be friends again.—<br>
But to my Gaveston: shall I never see,<br>
Never behold thee now!—Madam, in this matter<br>
We will employ you and your little son;<br>
You shall go parley with the King of France.—<br>
Boy, see you bear you bravely to the king,<br>
And do your message with a majesty.<br>
<i>P. Edw.</i> Commit not to my youth things of more weight<br>
Than fits a prince so young as I to bear;<br>
And fear not, lord and father,—heaven's great beams<br>
On Atlas' shoulder shall not lie more safe<br>
Than shall your charge committed to my trust.<br>
<i>Q. Isab.</i> Ah, boy, this towardness makes thy mother fear<br>
Thou art not mark'd to many days on earth!<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> Madam, we will that you with speed be shipp'd,<br>
And this our son; Levune shall follow you<br>
With all the haste we can despatch him hence.<br>
Choose of our lords to bear you company;<br>
And go in peace; leave us in wars at home.<br>
<i>Q. Isab.</i> Unnatural wars, where subjects brave their king:<br>
God end them once!—My lord, I take my leave,<br>
To make my preparation for France. [<i>Exit with Prince Edward.</i><br>
</p>
<p id="id00076"> <i>Enter</i> ARUNDEL.</p>
<p id="id00077"><i>K. Edw.</i> What, Lord Arundel, dost thou come alone?<br>
<i>Arun.</i> Yea, my good lord, for Gaveston is dead.<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> Ah, traitors, have they put my friend to death?<br>
Tell me, Arundel, died he ere thou cam'st,<br>
Or didst thou see my friend to take his death?<br>
<i>Arun.</i> Neither, my lord; for, as he was surpris'd,<br>
Begirt with weapons and with enemies round,<br>
I did your highness' message to them all,<br>
Demanding him of them, entreating rather,<br>
And said, upon the honour of my name,<br>
That I would undertake to carry him<br>
Unto your highness, and to bring him back.<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> And, tell me, would the rebels deny me that?<br>
<i>Y. Spen.</i> Proud recreants!<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> Yea, Spenser, traitors all!<br>
<i>Arun.</i> In found them at the first inexorable;<br>
The Earl of Warwick would not bide the hearing,<br>
Mortimer hardly; Pembroke and Lancaster<br>
Spake least; and when they flatly had denied,<br>
Refusing to receive me pledge for him,<br>
The Earl of Pembroke mildly thus bespake;<br>
"My lord, because our sovereign sends for him,<br>
And promiseth he shall be safe return'd,<br>
I will this undertake, to have him hence,<br>
And see him re-deliver'd to your hands."<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> Well, and how fortunes [it] that he came not?<br>
<i>Y. Spen.</i> Some treason or some villany was cause.<br>
<i>Arun.</i> The Earl of Warwick seiz'd him on his way;<br>
For, being deliver'd unto Pembroke's men,<br>
Their lord rode home, thinking his prisoner safe;<br>
But, ere he came, Warwick in ambush lay,<br>
And bare him to his death; and in a trench<br>
Strake off his head, and march'd unto the camp.<br>
<i>Y. Spen.</i> A bloody part, flatly 'gainst law of arms!<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> O, shall I speak, or shall I sigh and die!<br>
<i>Y. Spen.</i> My lord, refer your vengeance to the sword<br>
Upon these barons; hearten up your men;<br>
Let them not unreveng'd murder your friends:<br>
Advance your standard, Edward, in the field,<br>
And march to fire them from their starting-holes.<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> [<i>kneeling.</i>] By earth, the common mother of us all,<br>
By heaven, and all the moving orbs thereof,<br>
By this right hand, and by my father's sword,<br>
And all the honours 'longing to my crown,<br>
I will have heads and lives for him as many<br>
As I have manors, castles, towns, and towers!— [<i>Rises.</i><br>
Treacherous Warwick! traitorous Mortimer!<br>
If I be England's king, in lakes of gore<br>
Your headless trunks, your bodies will I trail,<br>
That you may drink your fill, and quaff in blood,<br>
And stain my royal standard with the same,<br>
That so my bloody colours may suggest<br>
Remembrance of revenge immortally<br>
On your accursed traitorous progeny,<br>
You villains that have slain my Gaveston!—<br>
And in this place of honour and of trust,<br>
Spenser, sweet Spenser, I adopt thee here;<br>
And merely of our love we do create thee<br>
Earl of Glocester and Lord Chamberlain,<br>
Despite of times, despite of enemies.<br>
<i>Y. Spen.</i> My lord, here's a messenger from the barons<br>
Desires access unto your majesty.<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> Admit him near.<br>
</p>
<p id="id00078"> <i>Enter</i> Herald <i>with his coat of arms.</i></p>
<p id="id00079"><i>Her.</i> Long live King Edward, England's lawful lord!<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> So wish not they, I wis, that sent thee hither:<br>
Thou com'st from Mortimer and his complices:<br>
A ranker rout of rebels never was.<br>
Well, say thy message.<br>
<i>Her.</i> The barons, up in arms, by me salute<br>
Your highness with long life and happiness;<br>
And bid me say, as plainer to your grace,<br>
That if without effusion of blood<br>
You will this grief have ease and remedy,<br>
That from your princely person you remove<br>
This Spenser, as a putrifying branch<br>
That deads the royal vine, whose golden leaves<br>
Empale your princely head, your diadem;<br>
Whose brightness such pernicious upstarts dim,<br>
Say they, and lovingly advise your grace<br>
To cherish virtue and nobility,<br>
And have old servitors in high esteem,<br>
And shake off smooth dissembling flatterers:<br>
This granted, they, their honours, and their lives,<br>
Are to your highness vow'd and consecrate.<br>
<i>Y. Spen.</i> Ah, traitors, will they still display their pride?<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> Away! tarry no answer, but be gone!—<br>
Rebels, will they appoint their sovereign<br>
His sports, his pleasures, and his company?—<br>
Yet, ere thou go, see how I do divorce [<i>Embraces young Spenser.</i><br>
Spenser from thee. Now get thee to thy lords,<br>
And tell them I will come to chastise them<br>
For murdering Gaveston: hie thee, get thee gone!<br>
Edward, with fire and sword, follows at thy heels. [<i>Exit Herald.</i><br>
My lord[s], perceive you how these rebels swell?—<br>
Soldiers, good hearts! defend your sovereign's right,<br>
For, now, even now, we march to make them stoop.<br>
Away!<br>
</p>
<p id="id00080">
[<i>Exeunt. Alarums, excursions, a great fight, and a<br>
retreat
sounded, within.</i><br>
</p>
<p id="id00081"> <i>Re-enter</i> KING EDWARD, <i>the elder</i> SPENSER, <i>the younger</i><br>
SPENSER, BALDOCK, <i>and</i> Noblemen <i>of the king's side.</i><br>
</p>
<p id="id00082"><i>K. Edw.</i> Why do we sound retreat? upon them, lords!<br>
This day I shall your vengeance with my sword<br>
On those proud rebels that are up in arms,<br>
And do confront and countermand their king.<br>
<i>Y. Spen.</i> I doubt it not, my lord; right will prevail.<br>
<i>E. Spen.</i> 'Tis not amiss, my liege, for either part<br>
To breathe a while; our men, with sweat and dust<br>
All chok'd well near, begin to faint for heat;<br>
And this retire refresheth horse and man.<br>
<i>Y. Spen.</i> Here come the rebels.<br>
</p>
<p id="id00083"> <i>Enter the younger</i> MORTIMER, LANCASTER, WARWICK,<br>
PEMBROKE, <i>and others.</i><br>
</p>
<p id="id00084"><i>Y. Mor.</i> Look, Lancaster, yonder is Edward<br>
Among his flatterers.<br>
<i>Lan.</i> And there let him be,<br>
Till he pay dearly for their company.<br>
<i>War.</i> And shall, or Warwick's sword shall smite in vain.<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> What, rebels, do you shrink and sound retreat?<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> No, Edward, no; thy flatterers faint and fly.<br>
<i>Lan.</i> They'd best betimes forsake thee and their trains,<br>
For they'll betray thee, traitors as they are.<br>
<i>Y. Spen.</i> Traitor on thy face, rebellious Lancaster!<br>
<i>Pem.</i> Away, base upstart! brav'st thou nobles thus?<br>
<i>E. Spen.</i> A noble attempt and honourable deed,<br>
Is it not, trow ye, to assemble aid<br>
And levy arms against your lawful king?<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> For which, ere long, their heads shall satisfy<br>
T' appease the wrath of their offended king.<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> Then, Edward, thou wilt fight it to the last,<br>
And rather bathe thy sword in subjects' blood<br>
Than banish that pernicious company?<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> Ay, traitors all, rather than thus be brav'd,<br>
Make England's civil towns huge heaps of stones,<br>
And ploughs to go about our palace-gates.<br>
<i>War.</i> A desperate and unnatural resolution!—<br>
Alarum to the fight!<br>
Saint George for England, and the barons' right!<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> Saint George for England, and King Edward's right!<br>
[<i>Alarums. Exeunt the two parties severally.</i></p>
<p id="id00085" style="margin-left: 4%; margin-right: 4%"> <i>Enter</i> KING EDWARD <i>and his followers, with the</i> Barons<br>
<i>and</i> KENT <i>captive.</i></p>
<p id="id00086"><i>K. Edw.</i> Now, lusty lords, now not by chance of war,<br>
But justice of the quarrel and the cause,<br>
Vail'd is your pride: methinks you hang the heads<br>
But we'll advance them, traitors: now 'tis time<br>
To be aveng'd on you for all your braves,<br>
And for the murder of my dearest friend,<br>
To whom right well you knew our soul was knit,<br>
Good Pierce of Gaveston, my sweet favourite:<br>
Ah, rebels, recreants, you made him away!<br>
<i>Kent.</i> Brother, in regard of thee and of thy land,<br>
Did they remove that flatterer from thy throne.<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> So, sir, you have spoke: away, avoid our presence!<br>
[<i>Exit Kent.</i><br>
Accursed wretches, was't in regard of us,<br>
When we had sent our messenger to request<br>
He might be spar'd to come to speak with us,<br>
And Pembroke undertook for his return,<br>
That thou, proud Warwick, watch'd the prisoner,<br>
Poor Pierce, and headed him 'gainst law of arms?<br>
For which thy head shall overlook the rest<br>
As much as thou in rage outwent'st the rest.<br>
<i>War.</i> Tyrant, I scorn thy threats and menaces;<br>
It is but temporal that thou canst inflict.<br>
<i>Lan.</i> The worst is death; and better die to live<br>
Than live in infamy under such a king.<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> Away with them, my lord of Winchester!<br>
These lusty leaders, Warwick and Lancaster,<br>
I charge you roundly, off with both their heads!<br>
Away!<br>
<i>War.</i> Farewell, vain world!<br>
<i>Lan.</i> Sweet Mortimer, farewell!<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> England, unkind to thy nobility,<br>
Groan for this grief! behold how thou art maim'd!<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> Go, take that haughty Mortimer to the Tower;<br>
There see him safe bestow'd; and, for the rest,<br>
Do speedy execution on them all.<br>
Be gone!<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> What, Mortimer, can ragged stony walls<br>
Immure thy virtue that aspires to heaven?<br>
No, Edward, England's scourge, it may not be;<br>
Mortimer's hope surmounts his fortune far.<br>
[<i>The captive Barons are led off.</i><br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> Sound, drums and trumpets! March with me, my friends.<br>
Edward this day hath crown'd him king anew.<br>
[<i>Exeunt all except the younger Spenser,<br>
Levune
and Baldock.</i><br>
<i>Y. Spen.</i> Levune, the trust that we repose in thee<br>
Begets the quiet of King Edward's land:<br>
Therefore be gone in haste, and with advice<br>
Bestow that treasure on the lords of France,<br>
That, therewith all enchanted, like the guard<br>
That suffer'd Jove to pass in showers of gold<br>
To Danaë, all aid may be denied<br>
To Isabel the queen, that now in France<br>
Makes friends, to cross the seas with her young son,<br>
And step into his father's regiment.<br>
<i>Levune.</i> That's it these barons and the subtle queen<br>
Long levell'd at.<br>
<i>Bal.</i> Yea, but, Levune, thou seest,<br>
These barons lay their heads on blocks together:<br>
What they intend, the hangman frustrates clean.<br>
<i>Levune.</i> Have you no doubt, my lords, I'll clap so close<br>
Among the lords of France with England's gold,<br>
That Isabel shall make her plaints in vain,<br>
And France shall be obdurate with her tears.<br>
<i>Y. Spen.</i> Then make for France amain; Levune, away!<br>
Proclaim King Edward's wars and victories. [<i>Exeunt.</i><br>
</p>
<p id="id00087"> <i>Enter</i> KENT.</p>
<p id="id00088"><i>Kent.</i> Fair blows the wind for France: blow, gentle gale,<br>
Till Edmund be arriv'd for England's good!<br>
Nature, yield to my country's cause in this!<br>
A brother? no, a butcher of thy friends!<br>
Proud Edward, dost thou banish me thy presence?<br>
But I'll to France, and cheer the wronged queen,<br>
And certify what Edward's looseness is.<br>
Unnatural king, to slaughter nobleman<br>
And cherish flatterers! Mortimer, I stay<br>
Thy sweet escape. Stand gracious, gloomy night,<br>
To his device!<br>
</p>
<p id="id00089"> <i>Enter the younger</i> MORTIMER <i>disguised.</i></p>
<p id="id00090"><i>Y. Mor.</i> Holla! who walketh there?<br>
Is't you, my lord?<br>
<i>Kent.</i> Mortimer, 'tis I.<br>
But hath thy portion wrought so happily?<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> It hath, my lord: the warders all asleep,<br>
I thank them, gave me leave to pass in peace.<br>
But hath your grace got shipping unto France?<br>
<i>Kent.</i> Fear it not. [<i>Exeunt.</i><br>
</p>
<p id="id00091"> <i>Enter</i> QUEEN ISABELLA <i>and</i> PRINCE EDWARD.</p>
<p id="id00092"><i>Q. Isab.</i> Ah, boy, our friends do fail us all in France!<br>
The lords are cruel, and the king unkind.<br>
What shall we do?<br>
<i>P. Edw.</i> Madam, return to England,<br>
And please my father well; and then a fig<br>
For all my uncle's friendship here in France!<br>
I warrant you, I'll win his highness quickly;<br>
'A loves me better than a thousand Spensers.<br>
<i>Q. Isab.</i> Ah, boy, thou art deceiv'd, at least in this,<br>
To think that we can yet be tun'd together!<br>
No, no, we jar too far.—Unkind Valois!<br>
Unhappy Isabel, when France rejects,<br>
Whither, O, whither dost thou bend thy steps?<br>
</p>
<p id="id00093"> <i>Enter</i> SIR JOHN OF HAINAULT.</p>
<p id="id00094"><i>Sir J.</i> Madam, what cheer?<br>
<i>Q. Isab.</i> Ah, good Sir John of Hainault,<br>
Never so cheerless nor so far distrest!<br>
<i>Sir J.</i> I hear, sweet lady, of the king's unkindness:<br>
But droop not, madam; noble minds contemn<br>
Despair. Will your grace with me to Hainault,<br>
And there stay time's advantage with your son?—<br>
How say you, my lord! will you go with your friends,<br>
And shake off all our fortunes equally?<br>
<i>P. Edw.</i> So pleaseth the queen my mother, me it likes:<br>
The king of England, not the court of France,<br>
Shall have me from my gracious mother's side,<br>
Till I be strong enough to break a staff;<br>
And then have at the proudest Spenser's head!<br>
<i>Sir J.</i> Well said, my lord!<br>
<i>Q. Isab.</i> O my sweet heart, how do I moan thy wrongs,<br>
Yet triumph in the hope of thee, my joy!—<br>
Ah, sweet Sir John, even to the utmost verge<br>
Of Europe, on the shore of Tanais,<br>
Will we with thee to Hainault—so we will:<br>
The marquis is a noble gentleman;<br>
His grace, I dare presume, will welcome me.—<br>
But who are these?<br>
</p>
<p id="id00095"> <i>Enter</i> KENT <i>and the younger</i> MORTIMER.</p>
<p id="id00096"><i>Kent.</i> Madam, long may you live,<br>
Much happier than your friends in England do!<br>
<i>Q. Isab.</i> Lord Edmund and Lord Mortimer alive!<br>
Welcome to France! the news was here, my lord,<br>
That you were dead, or very near your death.<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> Lady, the last was truest of the twain:<br>
But Mortimer, reserv'd for better hap,<br>
Hath shaken off the thraldom of the Tower,<br>
And lives t' advance your standard, good my lord.<br>
<i>P. Edw.</i> How mean you, and the king my father lives?<br>
No, my Lord Mortimer, not I, I trow.<br>
<i>Q. Isab.</i> Not, son! Why not? I would it were no worse!—<br>
But, gentle lords, friendless we are in France.<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> Monsieur Le Grand, a noble friend of yours,<br>
Told us, at our arrival, all the news,—<br>
How hard the nobles, how unkind the king<br>
Hath show'd himself: but, madam, right makes room<br>
Where weapons want; and, though a many friends<br>
Are made away, as Warwick, Lancaster,<br>
And others of our part and faction,<br>
Yet have we friends, assure your grace, in England,<br>
Would cast up caps, and clap their hands for joy,<br>
To see us there, appointed for our foes.<br>
<i>Kent.</i> Would all were well, and Edward well reclaim'd,<br>
For England's honour, peace, and quietness!<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> But by the sword, my lord, 't must be deserv'd:<br>
The king will ne'er forsake his flatterers.<br>
<i>Sir J.</i> My lords of England, sith th' ungentle king<br>
Of France refuseth to give aid of arms<br>
To this distressed queen, his sister, here,<br>
Go you with her to Hainault: doubt ye not<br>
We will find comfort, money, men, and friends,<br>
Ere long to bid the English king a base.—<br>
How say'st, young prince, what think you of the match?<br>
<i>P. Edw.</i> I think King Edward will outrun us all.<br>
<i>Q. Isab.</i> Nay, son, not so; and you must not discourage<br>
Your friends that are so forward in your aid.<br>
<i>Kent.</i> Sir John of Hainault, pardon us, I pray:<br>
These comforts that you give our woful queen<br>
Bind us in kindness all at your command.<br>
<i>Q. Isab.</i> Yea, gentle brother:—and the God of heaven<br>
Prosper your happy motion, good Sir John!<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> This noble gentleman, forward in arms,<br>
Was born, I see, to be our anchor-hold.—<br>
Sir John of Hainault, be it thy renown,<br>
That England's queen and nobles in distress<br>
Have been by thee restor'd and comforted.<br>
<i>Sir J.</i> Madam, along; and you, my lord[s], with me,<br>
That England's peers may Hainault's welcome see. [<i>Exeunt.</i><br>
</p>
<p id="id00097"> <i>Enter</i> KING EDWARD, ARUNDEL, <i>the elder</i> SPENSER, <i>the<br>
younger</i> SPENSER, <i>and others.</i><br>
</p>
<p id="id00098"><i>K. Edw.</i> Thus, after many threats of wrathful war,<br>
Triumpheth England's Edward with his friends,<br>
And triumph Edward with his friends uncontroll'd!—<br>
My Lord of Glocester, do you hear the news?<br>
<i>Y. Spen.</i> What news, my lord?<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> Why, man, they say there is great execution<br>
Done through the realm.—My Lord of Arundel,<br>
You have the note, have you not?<br>
<i>Arun.</i> From the Lieutenant of the Tower, my lord.<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> I pray, let us see it. [<i>Takes the note from Arundel.</i><br>
—What have we there?—<br>
Read it, Spenser.<br>
[<i>Gives the note to young Spenser, who reads<br>
their
names.</i><br>
Why, so: they bark'd apace a month ago;<br>
Now, on my life, they'll neither bark nor bite.<br>
Now, sirs, the news from France? Glocester, I trow,<br>
The lords of France love England's gold so well<br>
As Isabella gets no aid from thence.<br>
What now remains? have you proclaim'd, my lord,<br>
Reward for them can bring in Mortimer?<br>
<i>Y. Spen.</i> My lord, we have; and, if he be in England,<br>
'A will be had ere long, I doubt it not.<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> If, dost thou say? Spenser, as true as death,<br>
He is in England's ground: our port-masters<br>
Are not so careless of their king's command.<br>
</p>
<p id="id00099"> <i>Enter a</i> Messenger.</p>
<p id="id00100"> How now! what news with thee? from whence come these?<br>
<i>Mess.</i> Letters, my lord, and tidings forth of France:<br>
To you, my Lord of Glocester, from Levune.<br>
[<i>Gives letters to young Spenser.</i><br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> Read.<br>
<i>Y. Spen.</i> [reading.] <i>My duty to your honour promised, etc., I<br>
have, according to instructions in that behalf, dealt with the<br>
King of France and his lords, and effected that the queen, all<br>
discontented and discomforted, is gone: whither, if you ask,<br>
with Sir John of Hainault, brother to the marquis, into<br>
Flanders. With them are gone Lord Edmund and the Lord<br>
Mortimer, having in their company divers of your nation,<br>
and others; and, as constant report goeth, they intend to<br>
give King Edward battle in England, sooner than he can<br>
look for them. This is all the news of import.<br>
Your
honour's in all service, Levune.</i><br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> Ah, villains, hath that Mortimer escap'd?<br>
With him is Edmund gone associate?<br>
And will Sir John of Hainault lead the round?<br>
Welcome, o' God's name, madam, and your son!<br>
England shall welcome you and all your rout.<br>
Gallop apace, bright Phbus, through the sky;<br>
And, dusky Night, in rusty iron car,<br>
Between you both shorten the time, I pray,<br>
That I may see that most desired day,<br>
When we may meet these traitors in the field!<br>
Ah, nothing grieves me, but my little boy<br>
Is thus misled to countenance their ills!<br>
Come, friends, to Bristow, there to make us strong:<br>
And, winds, as equal be to bring them in,<br>
As you injurious were to bear them forth! [<i>Exeunt.</i><br>
</p>
<p id="id00101"> <i>Enter</i> QUEEN ISABELLA, PRINCE EDWARD, KENT, <i>the<br>
younger</i> MORTIMER, <i>and</i> SIR JOHN OF HAINAULT.<br>
</p>
<p id="id00102"><i>Q. Isab.</i> Now, lords, our loving friends and countrymen,<br>
Welcome to England all, with prosperous winds!<br>
Our kindest friends in Belgia have we left,<br>
To cope with friends at home; a heavy case<br>
When force to force is knit, and sword and glaive<br>
In civil broils make kin and countrymen<br>
Slaughter themselves in others, and their sides<br>
With their own weapons gor'd! But what's the help?<br>
Misgovern'd kings are cause of all this wreck;<br>
And, Edward, thou art one among them all,<br>
Whose looseness hath betray'd thy land to spoil,<br>
Who made the channel overflow with blood<br>
Of thine own people: patron shouldst thou be;<br>
But thou—<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> Nay, madam, if you be a warrior,<br>
You must not grow so passionate in speeches.—<br>
Lords, sith that we are, by sufferance of heaven,<br>
Arriv'd and armed in this prince's right,<br>
Here for our country's cause swear we to him<br>
All homage, fealty, and forwardness;<br>
And for the open wrongs and injuries<br>
Edward hath done to us, his queen, and land,<br>
We come in arms to wreck it with the sword;<br>
That England's queen in peace may repossess<br>
Her dignities and honours; and withal<br>
We may remove these flatterers from the king<br>
That havock England's wealth and treasury.<br>
<i>Sir J.</i> Sound trumpets, my lord, and forward let us march.<br>
Edward will think we come to flatter him.<br>
<i>Kent.</i> I would he never had been flatter'd more! [<i>Exeunt.</i><br>
</p>
<p id="id00103"><i>Enter</i> KING EDWARD, BALDOCK, <i>and the younger</i> SPENSER.</p>
<p id="id00104"><i>Y. Spen.</i> Fly, fly, my lord! the queen is overstrong;<br>
Her friends do multiply, and yours do fail.<br>
Shape we our course to Ireland, there to breathe.<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> What, was I born to fly and run away,<br>
And leave the Mortimers conquerors behind?<br>
Give me my horse, and let's reinforce our troops.<br>
And in this bed of honour die with fame.<br>
<i>Bald.</i> O, no, my lord! this princely resolution<br>
Fits not the time: away! we are pursu'd. [<i>Exeunt.</i><br>
</p>
<p id="id00105"> <i>Enter</i> KENT, <i>with a sword and target.</i></p>
<p id="id00106"><i>Kent.</i> This way he fled; but I am come too late.<br>
Edward, alas, my heart relents for thee!<br>
Proud traitor, Mortimer, why dost thou chase<br>
Thy lawful king, thy sovereign, with thy sword?<br>
Vile wretch, and why hast thou, of all unkind,<br>
Borne arms against thy brother and thy king?<br>
Rain showers of vengeance on my cursed head,<br>
Thou God, to whom in justice it belongs<br>
To punish this unnatural revolt!<br>
Edward, this Mortimer aims at thy life:<br>
O, fly him, then! But, Edmund, calm this rage;<br>
Dissemble, or thou diest; for Mortimer<br>
And Isabel do kiss, while they conspire:<br>
And yet she bears a face of love, forsooth:<br>
Fie on that love that hatcheth death and hate!<br>
Edmund, away! Bristow to Longshanks' blood<br>
Is false; be not found single for suspect:<br>
Proud Mortimer pries near into thy walks.<br>
</p>
<p id="id00107"> <i>Enter</i> QUEEN ISABELLA, PRINCE EDWARD, <i>the younger</i><br>
MORTIMER, <i>and</i> SIR JOHN JOHN OF HAINAULT.<br>
</p>
<p id="id00108"><i>Q. Isab.</i> Successful battle gives the God of kings<br>
To them that fight in right, and fear in wrath,<br>
Since, then, successfully we have prevail'd,<br>
Thanked be heaven's great architect, and you!<br>
Ere farther we proceed, my noble lords,<br>
We here create our well-beloved son,<br>
Of love and care unto his royal person,<br>
Lord Warden of the realm; and, sith the Fates<br>
Have made his father so infortunate,<br>
Deal you, my lords, in this, my loving lords,<br>
As to your wisdoms fittest seems in all.<br>
<i>Kent.</i> Madam, without offence if I may ask<br>
How will you deal with Edward in his fall?<br>
<i>P. Edw.</i> Tell me, good uncle, what Edward do you mean?<br>
<i>Kent.</i> Nephew, your father; I dare not call him king.<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> My Lord of Kent, what needs these questions?<br>
'Tis not in her controlment nor in ours;<br>
But as the realm and parliament shall please,<br>
So shall your brother be disposed of.—<br>
I like not this relenting mood in Edmund:<br>
Madam, 'tis good to look to him betimes. [<i>Aside to the Queen.</i><br>
<i>Q. Isab.</i> My lord, the Mayor of Bristow knows our mind.<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> Yea, madam; and they scape not easily<br>
That fled the field.<br>
<i>Q. Isab.</i> Baldock is with the king:<br>
A goodly chancellor, is he not, my lord?<br>
<i>Sir J.</i> So are the Spensers, the father and the son.<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> This Edward is the ruin of the realm.<br>
</p>
<p id="id00109"> <i>Enter</i> RICE AP HOWEL <i>with the elder</i> SPENSER <i>prisoner,<br>
and</i> Attendants.<br>
</p>
<p id="id00110"><i>Rice.</i> God save Queen Isabel and her princely son!<br>
Madam, the Mayor and citizens of Bristow,<br>
In sign of love and duty to this presence,<br>
Present by me this traitor to the state,<br>
Spenser, the father to that wanton Spenser,<br>
That, like the lawless Catiline of Rome,<br>
Revell'd in England's wealth and treasury.<br>
<i>Isab.</i> We thank you all.<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> Your loving care in this<br>
Deserveth princely favours and rewards.<br>
But where's the king and the other Spenser fled?<br>
<i>Rice.</i> Spenser the son, created Earl of Glocester,<br>
Is with that smooth-tongu'd scholar Baldock gone,<br>
And shipp'd but late for Ireland with the king.<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> Some whirlwind fetch them back, or sink them all!— [<i>Aside.</i><br>
They shall be started thence, I doubt it not.<br>
<i>P. Edw.</i> Shall I not see the king my father yet?<br>
<i>Kent.</i> Unhappy Edward, chas'd from England's bounds! [<i>Aside.</i><br>
<i>Sir J.</i> Madam, what resteth? why stand you in a muse?<br>
<i>Q. Isab.</i> I rue my lord's ill-fortune: but, alas,<br>
Care of my country call'd me to this war!<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> Madam, have done with care and sad complaint:<br>
Your king hath wrong'd your country and himself,<br>
And we must seek to right it as we may.—<br>
Meanwhile have hence this rebel to the block.<br>
<i>E. Spen.</i> Rebel is he that fights against the prince:<br>
So fought not they that fought in Edward's right.<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> Take him away; he prates.<br>
[<i>Exeunt Attendants with the elder Spenser.</i><br>
You,
Rice ap Howel,<br>
Shall do good service to her majesty,<br>
Being of countenance in your country here,<br>
To follow these rebellious runagates.—<br>
We in mean while, madam, must take advice.<br>
How Baldock, Spenser, and their complices,<br>
May in their fall be follow'd to their end. [<i>Exeunt.</i><br>
</p>
<p id="id00111"> <i>Enter the</i> Abbot, Monks, KING EDWARD, <i>the younger</i><br>
SPENSER, <i>and</i> BALDOCK (<i>the three latter disguised</i>).<br>
</p>
<p id="id00112"><i>Abbot.</i> Have you no doubt, my lord; have you no fear:<br>
As silent and as careful we will be<br>
To keep your royal person safe with us,<br>
Free from suspect, and fell invasion<br>
Of such as have your majesty in chase,<br>
Yourself, and those your chosen company,<br>
As danger of this stormy time requires.<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> Father, thy face should harbour no deceit.<br>
O, hadst thou ever been a king, thy heart,<br>
Pierc'd deeply with sense of my distress,<br>
Could not but take compassion of my state!<br>
Stately and proud in riches and in train,<br>
Whilom I was, powerful and full of pomp:<br>
But what is he whom rule and empery<br>
Have not in life or death made miserable?—<br>
Come, Spenser,—come, Baldock,—come, sit down by me;<br>
Make trial now of that philosophy<br>
That in our famous nurseries of arts<br>
Thou suck'dst from Plato and from Aristotle.—<br>
Father, this life contemplative is heaven:<br>
O, that I might this life in quiet lead!<br>
But we, alas, are chas'd!—and you, my friends,<br>
Your lives and my dishonour they pursue.—<br>
Yet, gentle monks, for treasure, gold, nor fee,<br>
Do you betray us and our company.<br>
<i>First Monk.</i> Your grace may sit secure, if none but we<br>
Do wot of your abode.<br>
<i>Y. Spen.</i> Not one alive: but shrewdly I suspect<br>
A gloomy fellow in a mead below;<br>
'A gave a long look after us, my lord;<br>
And all the land, I know, is up in arms,<br>
Arms that pursue our lives with deadly hate.<br>
<i>Bald.</i> We were embark'd for Ireland; wretched we,<br>
With awkward winds and with sore tempests driven,<br>
To fall on shore, and here to pine in fear<br>
Of Mortimer and his confederates!<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> Mortimer! who talks of Mortimer?<br>
Who wounds me with the name of Mortimer,<br>
That bloody man?—Good father, on thy lap<br>
Lay I this head, laden with mickle care.<br>
O, might I never ope these eyes again,<br>
Never again lift up this drooping head,<br>
O, never more lift up this dying heart!<br>
<i>Y. Spen.</i> Look up, my lord.—Baldock, this drowsiness<br>
Betides no good; here even we are betray'd.<br>
</p>
<p id="id00113"> <i>Enter, with Welsh hooks,</i> RICE AP HOWEL, <i>a</i> Mower,<br>
<i>and</i> LEICESTER.<br>
</p>
<p id="id00114"><i>Mow.</i> Upon my life, these be the men ye seek.<br>
<i>Rice.</i> Fellow, enough.—My lord, I pray, be short;<br>
A fair commission warrants what we do.<br>
<i>Leices.</i> The queen's commission, urg'd by Mortimer:<br>
What cannot gallant Mortimer with the queen?—<br>
Alas, see where he sits, and hopes unseen<br>
T'escape their hands that seek to reave his life!<br>
Too true it is, <i>Quem dies vidit veniens superbum,<br>
Hunc dies vidit fugiens jacentem.</i><br>
But, Leicester, leave to grow so passionate.—<br>
Spenser and Baldock, by no other names,<br>
I arrest you of high treason here.<br>
Stand not on titles, but obey th' arrest:<br>
'Tis in the name of Isabel the queen.—<br>
My lord, why droop you thus?<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> O day, the last of all my bliss on earth!<br>
Centre of all misfortune! O my stars,<br>
Why do you lour unkindly on a king?<br>
Comes Leicester, then, in Isabella's name,<br>
To take my life, my company from me?<br>
Here, man, rip up this panting breast of mine,<br>
And take my heart in rescue of my friends.<br>
<i>Rice.</i> Away with them!<br>
<i>Y. Spen.</i> It may become thee yet<br>
To let us take our farewell of his grace.<br>
<i>Abbott.</i> My heart with pity earns to see this sight;<br>
A king to bear these words and proud commands! [<i>Aside.</i><br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> Spenser, ah, sweet Spenser, thus, then, must we part?<br>
<i>Y. Spen.</i> We must, my lord; so will the angry heavens.<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> Nay, so will hell and cruel Mortimer:<br>
The gentle heavens have not to do in this.<br>
<i>Bald.</i> My lord, it is in vain to grieve or storm.<br>
Here humbly of your grace we take our leaves:<br>
Our lots are cast; I fear me, so is thine.<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> In heaven we may, in earth ne'er shall we meet:—<br>
And, Leicester, say, what shall become of us?<br>
<i>Leices.</i> Your majesty must go to Killingworth.<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> Must! it is somewhat hard when kings must go.<br>
<i>Leices.</i> Here is a litter ready for your grace,<br>
That waits your pleasure, and the day grows old.<br>
<i>Rice.</i> As good be gone, as stay and be benighted.<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> A litter hast thou? lay me in a hearse,<br>
And to the gates of hell convey me hence;<br>
Let Pluto's bells ring out my fatal knell,<br>
And hags howl for my death at Charon's shore;<br>
For friends hath Edward none but these,<br>
And these must die under a tyrant's sword.<br>
<i>Rice.</i> My lord, be going: care not for these;<br>
For we shall see them shorter by the heads.<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> Well, that shall be shall be: part we must;<br>
Sweet Spenser, gentle Baldock, part we must.—<br>
Hence, feigned weeds! unfeigned are my woes.—<br>
[<i>Throwing off his disguise.</i><br>
Father, farewell.—Leicester, thou stay'st for me;<br>
And go I must.—Life, farewell, with my friends!<br>
[<i>Exeunt King Edward and Leicester.</i><br>
<i>Y. Spen.</i> O, is he gone? is noble Edward gone?<br>
Parted from hence, never to see us more!<br>
Rend, sphere of heaven! and, fire, forsake thy orb!<br>
Earth, melt to air! gone is my sovereign,<br>
Gone, gone, alas, never to make return!<br>
<i>Bald.</i> Spenser, I see our souls are fleeting hence;<br>
We are depriv'd the sunshine of our life.<br>
Make for a new life, man; throw up thy eyes<br>
And heart and hand to heaven's immortal throne;<br>
Pay nature's debt with cheerful countenance;<br>
Reduce we all our lessons unto this,—<br>
To die, sweet Spenser, therefore live we all;<br>
Spenser, all live to die, and rise to fall.<br>
<i>Rice.</i> Come, come, keep these preachments till you come to<br>
the place appointed. You, and such as you are, have<br>
made wise work in England. Will your lordships away?<br>
<i>Mow.</i> Your lordship I trust will remember me?<br>
<i>Rice.</i> Remember thee, fellow! what else? Follow me to<br>
the town. [<i>Exeunt.</i><br>
</p>
<p id="id00115"> <i>Enter</i> KING EDWARD, LEICESTER, <i>the</i> BISHOP OF<br>
WINCHESTER, <i>and</i> TRUSSEL.<br>
</p>
<p id="id00116"><i>Leices.</i> Be patient, good my lord, cease to lament;<br>
Imagine Killingworth Castle were your court,<br>
And that you lay for pleasure here a space,<br>
Not of compulsion or necessity.<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> Leicester, if gentle words might comfort me,<br>
Thy speeches long ago had eas'd my sorrows,<br>
For kind and loving hast thou always been.<br>
The griefs of private men are soon allay'd;<br>
But not of kings. The forest deer, being struck,<br>
Runs to an herb that closeth up the wounds:<br>
But when the imperial lion's flesh is gor'd,<br>
He rends and tears it with his wrathful paw,<br>
[And], highly scorning that the lowly earth<br>
Should drink his blood, mounts up to the air:<br>
And so it fares with me, whose dauntless mind<br>
Th' ambitious Mortimer would seek to curb,<br>
And that unnatural queen, false Isabel,<br>
That thus hath pent and mew'd me in a prison<br>
For such outrageous passions cloy my soul,<br>
As with the wings of rancour and disdain<br>
Full oft[ten] am I soaring up to heaven,<br>
To plain me to the gods against them both.<br>
But when I call to mind I am a king,<br>
Methinks I should revenge me of my wrongs,<br>
That Mortimer and Isabel have done.<br>
But what are kings, when regiment is gone,<br>
But perfect shadows in a sunshine day?<br>
My nobles rule; I bear the name of king,<br>
I wear the crown; but am controll'd by them,<br>
By Mortimer, and my unconstant queen,<br>
Who spots my nuptial bed with infamy;<br>
Whilst I am lodg'd within this cave of care,<br>
Where sorrow at my elbow still attends,<br>
To company my heart with sad laments,<br>
That bleeds within me for this strange exchange.<br>
But tell me, must I now resign my crown,<br>
To make usurping Mortimer a king?<br>
<i>Bish. of Win.</i> Your grace mistakes; it is for England's good,<br>
And princely Edward's right, we crave the crown.<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> No, 'tis for Mortimer, not Edward's head<br>
For he's a lamb, emcompassed by wolves,<br>
Which in a moment will abridge his life.<br>
But, if proud Mortimer do wear this crown,<br>
Heavens turn it to a blaze of quenchless fire!<br>
Or, like the snaky wreath of Tisiphon,<br>
Engirt the temples of his hateful head!<br>
So shall not England's vine be perished,<br>
But Edward's name survive, though Edward dies.<br>
<i>Leices.</i> My lord, why waste you thus the time away?<br>
They stay your answer: will you yield your crown?<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> Ah, Leicester, weigh how hardly I can brook<br>
To lose my crown and kingdom without cause;<br>
To give ambitious Mortimer my right,<br>
That, like a mountain, overwhelms my bliss;<br>
In which extreme my mind here murder'd is!<br>
But that the heavens appoint I must obey.—<br>
Here, take my crown; the life of Edward too: [<i>Taking off the crown.</i><br>
Two kings in England cannot reign at once.<br>
But stay a while: let me be king till night,<br>
That I may gaze upon this glittering crown;<br>
So shall my eyes receive their last content,<br>
My head, the latest honour due to it,<br>
And jointly both yield up their wished right.<br>
Continue ever, thou celestial sun;<br>
Let never silent night possess this clime;<br>
Stand still, you watches of the element;<br>
All times and seasons, rest you at a stay,<br>
That Edward may be still fair England's king!<br>
But day's bright beams doth vanish fast away,<br>
And needs I must resign my wished crown.<br>
Inhuman creatures, nurs'd with tiger's milk,<br>
Why gape you for your sovereign's overthrow?<br>
My diadem, I mean, and guiltless life.<br>
See, monsters, see! I'll wear my crown again.<br>
[<i>Putting on the crown.</i><br>
What, fear you not the fury of your king?—<br>
But, hapless Edward, thou art fondly led;<br>
They pass not for thy frowns as late they did,<br>
But seek to make a new-elected king;<br>
Which fills my mind with strange despairing thoughts,<br>
Which thoughts are martyred with endless torments;<br>
And in this torment comfort find I none,<br>
But that I feel the crown upon my head;<br>
And therefore let me wear it yet a while.<br>
<i>Trus.</i> My, lord, the parliament must have present news;<br>
And therefore say, will you resign or no?<br>
[<i>The king rageth.</i><br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> I'll not resign, but, whilst I live, [be king].<br>
Traitors, be gone, and join you with Mortimer.<br>
Elect, conspire, install, do what you will:<br>
Their blood and yours shall seal these treacheries.<br>
<i>Bish. of Win.</i> This answer we'll return; and so, farewell.<br>
[<i>Going with Trussel.</i><br>
<i>Leices.</i> Call them again, my lord, and speak them fair;<br>
For, if they go, the prince shall lose his right.<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> Call thou them back; I have no power to speak.<br>
<i>Leices.</i> My lord, the king is willing to resign.<br>
<i>Bish. of Win.</i> If he be not, let him choose.<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> O, would I might! but heavens and earth conspire<br>
To make me miserable. Here, receive my crown.<br>
Receive it? no, these innocent hands of mine<br>
Shall not be guilty of so foul a crime;<br>
He of you all that most desires my blood,<br>
And will be call'd the murderer of a king,<br>
Take it. What, are you mov'd? pity you me?<br>
Then send for unrelenting Mortimer,<br>
And Isabel, whose eyes being turn'd to steel<br>
Will sooner sparkle fire than shed a tear.<br>
Yet stay; for, rather than I'll look on them,<br>
Here, here! [<i>Gives the crown.</i>]—Now, sweet God of heaven,<br>
Make me despise this transitory pomp,<br>
And sit fot aye enthronised in heaven!<br>
Come, death, and with thy fingers close my eyes,<br>
Or, if I live, let me forget myself!<br>
<i>Bish. of Win.</i> My lord,—<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> Call me not lord; away, out of my sight!<br>
Ah, pardon me! grief makes me lunatic.<br>
Let not that Mortimer protect my son;<br>
More safety there is in a tiger's jaws<br>
Than his embracements. Bear this to the queen,<br>
Wet with my tears, and dried again with sighs:<br>
[<i>Gives a handkerchief.</i><br>
If with the sight thereof she be not mov'd,<br>
Return it back, and dip it in my blood.<br>
Commend me to my son, and bid him rule<br>
Better than I: yet how have I transgress'd,<br>
Unless it be with too much clemency?<br>
<i>Trus.</i> And thus, most humbly do we take our leave.<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> Farewell.<br>
[<i>Exeunt the Bishop of Winchester and Trussel with the<br>
crown.</i><br>
I
know the next news that they bring<br>
Will be my death; and welcome shall it be:<br>
To wretched men death is felicity.<br>
<i>Leices.</i> Another post! what news brings he?<br>
</p>
<p id="id00117"> <i>Enter</i> BERKELEY, <i>who gives a paper to</i> LEICESTER.</p>
<p id="id00118"><i>K. Edw.</i> Such news as I expect.—Come, Berkeley, come,<br>
And tell thy message to my naked breast.<br>
<i>Berk.</i> My lord, think not a thought so villanous<br>
Can harbour in a man of noble birth.<br>
To do your highness service and devoir,<br>
And save you from your foes, Berkeley would die.<br>
<i>Leices.</i> My lord, the council of the queen command<br>
That I resign my charge.<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> And who must keep me now? Must you, my lord?<br>
<i>Berk.</i> Ay, my most gracious lord; so 'tis decreed.<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> [<i>Taking the paper.</i>] By Mortimer, whose name is written here!<br>
Well may I rent his name that rends my heart. [<i>Tears it.</i><br>
This poor revenge hath something eas'd my mind:<br>
So may his limbs be torn as is this paper!<br>
Hear me, immortal Jove, and grant it too!<br>
<i>Berk.</i> Your grace must hence with me to Berkeley straight.<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> Whither you will: all places are alike,<br>
And every earth is fit for burial.<br>
<i>Leices.</i> Favour him, my lord, as much as lieth in you.<br>
<i>Berk.</i> Even so betide my soul as I use him!<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> Mine enemy hath pitied my estate,<br>
And that's the cause that I am now remov'd.<br>
<i>Berk.</i> And thinks your grace that Berkeley will be cruel?<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> I know not; but of this am I assur'd,<br>
That death ends all, and I can die but once.—<br>
Leicester, farewell.<br>
<i>Leices.</i> Not yet, my lord; I'll bear you on your way. [<i>Exeunt.</i></p>
<p id="id00119"> <i>Enter</i> QUEEN ISABELLA <i>and the younger</i> MORTIMER.</p>
<p id="id00120"><i>Y. Mor.</i> Fair Isabel, now have we our desire;<br>
The proud corrupters of the light-brain'd king<br>
Have done their homage to the lofty gallows,<br>
And he himself lies in captivity.<br>
Be rul'd by me, and we will rule the realm:<br>
In any case take heed of childish fear,<br>
For now we hold an old wolf by the ears,<br>
That, if he slip, will seize upon us both,<br>
And gripe the sorer, being grip'd himself.<br>
Think therefore, madam, that imports us much<br>
To erect your son with all the speed we may,<br>
And that I be protector over him:<br>
For our behoof, 'twill bear the greater sway<br>
Whenas a king's name shall be under-writ.<br>
<i>Q. Isab.</i> Sweet Mortimer, the life of Isabel,<br>
Be thou persuaded that I love thee well;<br>
And therefore, so the prince my son be safe,<br>
Whom I esteem as dear as these mine eyes,<br>
Conclude against his father what thou wilt,<br>
And I myself will willingly subscribe.<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> First would I hear news he were depos'd,<br>
And then let me alone to handle him.<br>
</p>
<p id="id00121"> <i>Enter</i> Messenger.</p>
<p id="id00122"> Letters! from whence?<br>
<i>Mess.</i> From Killingworth, my lord?<br>
<i>Q. Isab.</i> How fares my lord the king?<br>
<i>Mess.</i> In health, madam, but full of pensiveness.<br>
<i>Q. Isab.</i> Alas, poor soul, would I could ease his grief!</p>
<p id="id00123"> <i>Enter the</i> BISHOP OF WINCHESTER <i>with the crown.</i></p>
<p id="id00124"> Thanks, gentle Winchester.—<br>
Sirrah,
be gone. [<i>Exit Messenger.</i><br>
<i>Bish. of Win.</i> The king hath willingly resign'd his crown.<br>
<i>Q. Isab.</i> O, happy news! send for the prince my son.<br>
<i>Bish. of Win.</i> Further, or this letter was seal'd, Lord Berkeley came,<br>
So that he now is gone from Killingworth;<br>
And we have heard that Edmund laid a plot<br>
To set his brother free; nor more but so.<br>
The Lord of Berkeley is so pitiful<br>
As Leicester that had charge of him before.<br>
<i>Q. Isab.</i> Then let some other be his guardian.<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> Let me alone; here is the privy-seal,—<br>
[<i>Exit the Bish. of Win.</i><br>
Who's there? Call hither, Gurney and Matrevis.—<br>
[<i>To Attendants within.</i><br>
To dash the heavy-headed Edmund's drift,<br>
Berkeley shall be discharg'd, the king remov'd,<br>
And none but we shall know where he lieth.<br>
<i>Q. Isab.</i> But, Mortimer, as long as he survives,<br>
What safety rests for us or for my son?<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> Speak, shall he presently be despatch'd and die?<br>
<i>Q. Isab.</i> I would he were, so 'twere not by my means!<br>
</p>
<p id="id00125"> <i>Enter</i> MATREVIS <i>and</i> GURNEY.</p>
<p id="id00126"><i>Y. Mor.</i> Enough.—Matrevis, write a letter presently<br>
Unto the Lord of Berkeley from ourself,<br>
That he resign the king to thee and Gurney;<br>
And, when 'tis done, we will subscribe our name.<br>
<i>Mat.</i> It shall be done, my lord. [<i>Writes.</i><br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> Gurney,—<br>
<i>Gur.</i> My lord?<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> As thou intend'st to rise by Mortimer,<br>
Who now makes Fortune's wheel turn as he please,<br>
Seek all the means thou canst to make him droop,<br>
And neither give him kind word nor good look.<br>
<i>Gur.</i> I warrant you, my lord.<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> And this above the rest: because we hear<br>
That Edmund casts to work his liberty,<br>
Remove him still from place to place by night,<br>
Till at the last he come to Killingworth,<br>
And then from thence to Berkeley back again;<br>
And by the way, to make him fret the more,<br>
Speak curstly to him; and in any case<br>
Let no man comfort him, if he chance to weep,<br>
But amplify his grief with bitter words.<br>
<i>Mat.</i> Fear not, my lord; we'll do as you command.<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> So, now away! post thitherwards amain.<br>
<i>Q. Isab.</i> Whither goes this letter? to my lord the king?<br>
Commend me humbly to his majesty,<br>
And tell him that I labour all in vain<br>
To ease his grief and work his liberty;<br>
And bear him this as witness of my love. [<i>Gives ring.</i><br>
<i>Mat.</i> I will, madam. [<i>Exit with Gurney.</i><br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> Finely dissembled! do so still, sweet queen.<br>
Here comes the young prince with the Earl of Kent.<br>
<i>Q. Isab.</i> Something he whispers in his childish ears.<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> If he have such access unto the prince,<br>
Our plots and stratagems will soon be dash'd.<br>
<i>Q. Isab.</i> Use Edmund friendly, as if all were well.<br>
</p>
<p id="id00127"> <i>Enter</i> PRINCE EDWARD, <i>and</i> KENT <i>talking with him.</i></p>
<p id="id00128"><i>Y. Mor.</i> How fares my honourable Lord of Kent?<br>
<i>Kent.</i> In health, sweet Mortimer.—How fares your grace?<br>
<i>Q. Isab.</i> Well, if my lord your brother were enlarg'd.<br>
<i>Kent.</i> I hear of late he hath depos'd himself.<br>
<i>Q. Isab.</i> The more my grief.<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> And mine.<br>
<i>Kent.</i> Ah, they do dissemble! [<i>Aside.</i><br>
<i>Q. Isab.</i> Sweet son, come hither; I must talk with thee.<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> You, being his uncle and the next of blood,<br>
Do look to be protector o'er the prince.<br>
<i>Kent.</i> Not I, my lord: who should protect the son,<br>
But she that gave him life? I mean the queen.<br>
<i>P. Edw.</i> Mother, persuade me not to wear the crown:<br>
Let him be king; I am too young to reign.<br>
<i>Q. Isab.</i> But be content, seeing 'tis his highness' pleasure.<br>
<i>P. Edw.</i> Let me but see him first, and then I will.<br>
<i>Kent.</i> Ay, do, sweet nephew.<br>
<i>Q. Isab.</i> Brother, you know it is impossible.<br>
<i>P. Edw.</i> Why, is he dead?<br>
<i>Q. Isab.</i> No, God forbid!<br>
<i>Kent.</i> I would those words proceeded from your heart!<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> Inconstant Edmund, dost thou favour him,<br>
That wast a cause of his imprisonment?<br>
<i>Kent.</i> The more cause now have I to make amends.<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> [<i>aside to</i> Q. ISAB.]<br>
I tell thee, 'tis not meet that one so false<br>
Should come about the person of a prince.—<br>
My lord, he hath betray'd the king his brother,<br>
And therefore trust him not.<br>
<i>P. Edw.</i> But he repents, and sorrows for it now.<br>
<i>Q. Isab.</i> Come, son, and go with this gentle lord and me.<br>
<i>P. Edw.</i> With you I will, but not with Mortimer.<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> Why, youngling, 'sdain'st thou so of Mortimer?<br>
Then I will carry thee by force away.<br>
<i>P. Edw.</i> Help, uncle Kent! Mortimer will wrong me.<br>
<i>Q. Isab.</i> Brother Edmund, strive not; we are his friends;<br>
Isabel is nearer than the Earl of Kent.<br>
<i>Kent.</i> Sister, Edward is my charge; redeem him.<br>
<i>Q. Isab.</i> Edward is my son, and I will keep him.<br>
<i>Kent.</i> Mortimer shall know that he hath wronged me.<br>
Hence will I haste to Killingworth Castle,<br>
And rescue aged Edward from his foes,<br>
To be reveng'd on Mortimer and thee. [<i>Aside.</i><br>
[<i>Exeunt, on the one side, Queen Isabella, Prince Edward<br>
and the younger Mortimer; on other other, Kent.</i></p>
<p id="id00129"> <i>Enter</i> MATREVIS, GURNEY, <i>and</i> Soldiers, <i>with</i><br>
KING
EDWARD.<br>
</p>
<p id="id00130"><i>Mat.</i> My lord, be not pensive; we are your friends:<br>
Men are ordain'd to live in misery;<br>
Therefore, come; dalliance dangereth our lives.<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> Friends, whither must unhappy Edward go?<br>
Will hateful Mortimer appoint no rest?<br>
Must I be vexed like the nightly bird,<br>
Whose sight is loathsome to all winged fowls?<br>
When will the fury of his mind assuage?<br>
When will his heart be satisfied with blood?<br>
If mine will serve, unbowel straight this breast,<br>
And give my heart to Isabel and him:<br>
It is the chiefest mark they level at.<br>
<i>Gur.</li> Not so, my liege: the queen hath given this charge,<br>
To keep your grace in safety:<br>
Your passions make your dolours to increase.<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> This usage makes my misery increase.<br>
But can my air of life continue long,<br>
When all my senses are annoy'd with stench?<br>
Within a dungeon England's king is kept,<br>
Where I am starv'd for want of sustenance;<br>
My daily diet is heart-breaking sobs,<br>
That almost rent the closet of my heart:<br>
Thus lives old Edward not reliev'd by any,<br>
And so must die, though pitied by many.<br>
O, water, gentle friends, to cool my thirst,<br>
And clear my body from foul excrements!<br>
<i>Mat.</i> Here's channel-water, as our charge is given:<br>
Sit down, for we'll be barbers to your grace.<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> Traitors, away! what, will you murder me,<br>
Of choke your sovereign with puddle-water?<br>
<i>Gur.</i> No, but wash your face, and shave away your beard,<br>
Lest you be known, and so be rescued.<br>
<i>Mat.</i> Why strive you thus? your labour is in vain.<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> The wren may strive against the lion's strength,<br>
But all in vain: so vainly do I strive<br>
To seek for mercy at a tyrant's hand.<br>
[<i>They wash him with puddle-water, and shave his beard<br>
away.</i><br>
Immortal powers, that know the painful cares<br>
That wait upon my poor distressed soul,<br>
O, level all your looks upon these daring men<br>
That wrong their liege and sovereign, England's king!<br>
O Gaveston, it is for thee that I am wrong'd!<br>
For me both thou and both the Spensers died;<br>
And for your sakes a thousand wrongs I'll take.<br>
The Spensers' ghosts, wherever they remain,<br>
Wish well to mine; then, tush, for them I'll die.<br>
<i>Mat.</i> 'Twixt theirs and yours shall be no enmity.<br>
Come, come, away! Now put the torches out:<br>
We'll enter in by darkness to Killingworth.<br>
<i>Gur.</i> How now! who comes there?<br>
</p>
<p id="id00131"> <i>Enter</i> KENT.</p>
<p id="id00132"><i>Mat.</i> Guard the king sure: it is the Earl of Kent.<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> O gentle brother, help to rescue me!<br>
<i>Mat.</i> Keep them asunder; thrust in the king.<br>
<i>Kent.</i> Soldiers, let me but talk to him one word.<br>
<i>Gur.</i> Lay hands upon the earl for his assault.<br>
<i>Kent.</i> Lay down your weapons, traitors! yield the king!<br>
<i>Mat.</i> Edmund, yield thou thyself, or thou shalt die.<br>
<i>Kent.</i> Base villains, wherefore do you gripe me thus?<br>
<i>Gur.</i> Bind him, and so convey him to the court.<br>
<i>Kent.</i> Where is the court but here? here is the king<br>
And I will visit him: why stay you me?<br>
<i>Mat.</i> The court is where Lord Mortimer remains:<br>
Thither shall your honour go; and so, farewell.<br>
[<i>Exeunt Matrevis and Gurney with King Edward.</i><br>
<i>Kent.</i> O, miserable is that common-weal,<br>
Where lords keep courts, and kings are lock'd in prison!<br>
<i>First Sold.</i> Wherefore stay we? on, sirs, to the court!<br>
<i>Kent.</i> Ay, lead me whither you will, even to my death,<br>
Seeing that my brother cannot be releas'd. [<i>Exeunt.</i></p>
<p id="id00133"> <i>Enter the younger</i> MORTIMER.</p>
<p id="id00134"><i>Y. Mor.</i> The king must die, or Mortimer goes down;<br>
The commons now begin to pity him:<br>
Yet he that is the cause of Edward's death,<br>
Is sure to pay for it when his son's of age;<br>
And therefore will I do it cunningly.<br>
This letter, written by a friend of ours,<br>
Contains his death, yet bids then save his life;<br>
[<i>Reads.</i><br>
<i>Edwardum occidere nolite timere, bonum est,<br>
Fear not to kill the king, 'tis good he die:</i><br>
But read it thus, and that's another sense;<br>
<i>Edwardum occidere nolite, timere bonum est,<br>
Kill not the king, 'tis good to fear the worst.</i><br>
Unpointed as it is, thus shall it go.<br>
That, being dead, if it chance to be found,<br>
Matrevis and the rest may bear the blame,<br>
And we be quit that caus'd it to be done.<br>
Within this room is lock'd the messenger<br>
That shall convey it, and perform the rest;<br>
And, by a secret token that he bears,<br>
Shall he be murder'd when the deed is done.—<br>
Lightborn, come forth!<br>
</p>
<p id="id00135"> <i>Enter</i> LIGHTBORN.</p>
<p id="id00136"> Art
thou so resolute as thou wast?<br>
<i>Light.</i> What else, my lord? and far more resolute.<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> And hast thou cast how to accomplish it?<br>
<i>Light.</i> Ay, ay; and none shall know which way he died.<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> But at his looks, Lightborn, thou wilt relent.<br>
<i>Light.</i> Relent! ha, ha! I use much to relent.<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> Well, do it bravely, and be secret.<br>
<i>Light.</i> You shall not need to give instructions;<br>
'Tis not the first time I have kill'd a man:<br>
I learn'd in Naples how to poison flowers;<br>
To strangle with a lawn thrust down the throat;<br>
To pierce the wind pipe with a needle's point;<br>
Or, whilst one is asleep, to take a quill,<br>
And blow a little powder in his ears;<br>
Or open his mouth, and pour quick-silver down.<br>
But yet I have a braver way than these.<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> What's that?<br>
<i>Light.</i> Nay, you shall pardon me; none shall know my tricks.<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> I care not how it is, so it be not spied.<br>
Deliver this to Gurney and Matrevis: [<i>Gives letter.</i><br>
At every ten-mile end thou hast a horse:<br>
Take this [<i>Gives money</i>]: away, and never see me more!<br>
<i>Light.</i> No?<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> No; unless thou bring me news of Edward's death.<br>
<i>Light.</i> That will I quickly do. Farewell, my lord. [<i>Exit.</i><br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> The prince I rule, the queen do I command,<br>
And with a lowly congé to the ground<br>
The proudest lords salute me as I pass;<br>
I seal, I cancel, I do what I will.<br>
Fear'd am I more than lov'd;—let me be fear'd,<br>
And, when I frown, make all the court look pale.<br>
I view the prince with Aristarchus' eyes,<br>
Whose looks were as a breeching to a boy.<br>
They thrust upon me the protectorship,<br>
And sue to me for that that I desire;<br>
While at the council-table, grave enough,<br>
And not unlike a bashful puritan,<br>
First I complain of imbecility,<br>
Saying it is <i>onus quam gravissimum;</i><br>
Till, being interrupted by my friends,<br>
<i>Suscepi</i> that <i>provinciam</i>, as they term it;<br>
And, to conclude, I am Protector now.<br>
Now all is sure: the queen and Mortimer<br>
Shall rule the realm, the king; and none rule us.<br>
Mine enemies will I plague, my friends advance;<br>
And what I list command who dare control?<br>
<i>Major sum quàm cui possit fortuna nocere:</i><br>
And that this be the coronation-day,<br>
It pleaseth me and Isabel the queen. [<i>Trumpets within.</i><br>
The trumpets sound; I must go take my place.<br>
</p>
<p id="id00137"> <i>Enter</i> KING EDWARD THE THIRD, QUEEN ISABELLA, <i>the</i><br>
ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY, Champion, <i>and</i> Nobles.<br>
</p>
<p id="id00138"><i>Archb. of Cant.</i> Long live King Edward, by the grace of God<br>
King of England and Lord of Ireland!<br>
<i>Cham.</i> If any Christian, Heathen, Turk, or Jew,<br>
Dares but affirm that Edward's not true king,<br>
And will avouch his saying with the sword,<br>
I am the Champion that will combat him.<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> None comes: sound, trumpets! [<i>Trumpets.</i><br>
<i>K. Edw. Third.</i> Champion, here's to thee. [<i>Gives purse.</i><br>
<i>Q. Isab.</i> Lord Mortimer, now take him to your charge.</p>
<p id="id00139"> <i>Enter</i> Soldiers <i>with</i> KENT <i>prisoner.</i></p>
<p id="id00140"><i>Y. Mor.</i> What traitor have we there with blades and bills?<br>
<i>First Sold.</i> Edmund the Earl of Kent.<br>
<i>K. Edw. Third.</i> What hath he done?<br>
<i>First Sold.</i> 'A would have taken the king away perforce,<br>
As we were bringing him to Killingworth.<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> Did you attempt his rescue, Edmund? speak.<br>
<i>Kent.</i> Mortimer, I did: he is our king,<br>
And thou compell'st this prince to wear the crown.<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> Strike off his head: he shall have martial law.<br>
<i>Kent.</i> Strike off my head! base traitor, I defy thee!<br>
<i>K. Edw. Third.</i> My lord, he is my uncle, and shall live.<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> My lord, he is your enemy, and shall die.<br>
<i>Kent.</i> Stay, villains!<br>
<i>K. Edw. Third.</i> Sweet mother, if I cannot pardon him,<br>
Entreat my Lord Protector for his life.<br>
<i>Q. Isab.</i> Son, be content: I dare not speak a word.<br>
<i>K. Edw. Third.</i> Nor I; and yet methinks I should command:<br>
But, seeing I cannot, I'll entreat for him.—<br>
My lord, if you will let my uncle live,<br>
I will requite it when I come to age.<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> 'Tis for your highness' good and for the realm's.—<br>
How often shall I bid you bear him hence?<br>
<i>Kent.</i> Art thou king? must I die at thy command?<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> At our command.—Once more, away with him!<br>
<i>Kent.</i> Let me but stay and speak; I will not go:<br>
Either my brother or his son is king,<br>
And none of both them thirst for Edmund's blood:<br>
And therefore, soldiers, whither will you hale me?<br>
[<i>Soldiers hale Kent away, and carry him to be beheaded.</i><br>
<i>K. Edw. Third.</i> What safety may I look for at his hands,<br>
If that my uncle shall be murder'd thus?<br>
<i>Q. Isab.</i> Fear not, sweet boy; I'll guard thee from thy foes:<br>
Had Edmund liv'd, he would have sought thy death.<br>
Come, son, we'll ride a-hunting in the park.<br>
<i>K. Edw. Third.</i> And shall my uncle Edmund ride with us?<br>
<i>Q. Isab.</i> He is a traitor; think not on him: come. [<i>Exeunt.</i></p>
<p id="id00141"> <i>Enter</i> MATREVIS <i>and</i> GURNEY.</p>
<p id="id00142"><i>Mat.</i> Gurney, I wonder the king dies not,<br>
Being in a vault up to the knees in water,<br>
To which the channels of the castle run,<br>
From whence a damp continually ariseth,<br>
That were enough to poison any man,<br>
Much more a king, brought up so tenderly.<br>
<i>Gur.</i> And so do I, Matrevis: yesternight<br>
I open'd but the door to throw him meat,<br>
And I was almost stifled with the savour.<br>
<i>Mat.</i> He hath a body able to endure<br>
More than we can inflict: and therefore now<br>
Let us assail his mind another while.<br>
<i>Gur.</i> Send for him out thence, and I will anger him.<br>
<i>Mat.</i> But stay; who's this?<br>
</p>
<p id="id00143"> <i>Enter</i> LIGHTBORN.</p>
<p id="id00144"><i>Light.</i> My Lord Protector greets you. [<i>Gives letter.</i><br>
<i>Gur.</i> What's there? I know not how to construe it.<br>
<i>Mat.</i> Gurney, it was left unpointed for the nonce;<br>
<i>Edwardum occidere nolite timere,</i><br>
That's his meaning.<br>
<i>Light.</i> Know you this token? I must have the king. [<i>Gives token.</i><br>
<i>Mat.</i> Ay, stay a while; thou shalt have answer straight.—<br>
This villain's sent to make away the king.<br>
<i>Gur.</i> I thought as much.<br>
<i>Mat.</i> And, when the murder's done,<br>
See how he must be handled for his labour,—<br>
<i>Pereat iste!</i> Let him have the king;<br>
What else?—Here is the keys, this is the lake:<br>
Do as you are commanded by my lord.<br>
<i>Light.</i> I know what I must do. Get you away:<br>
Yet be not far off; I shall need your help:<br>
See that in the next room I have a fire,<br>
And get me a spit, and let it be red-hot.<br>
<i>Mat.</i> Very well.<br>
<i>Gur.</i> Need you anything besides?<br>
<i>Light.</i> What else? a table and a feather-bed.<br>
<i>Gur.</i> That's all?<br>
<i>Light.</i> Ay, ay: so, when I call you, bring it in.<br>
<i>Mat.</i> Fear not thou that.<br>
<i>Gur.</i> Here's a light to go into the dungeon.<br>
[<i>Gives light to Lightborn, and then exit with Matrevis.</i><br>
<i>Light.</i> So, now.<br>
Must I about this gear: ne'er was there any<br>
So finely handled as this king shall be.—<br>
Foh, here's a place indeed with all my heart!<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> Who's there? what light is that? wherefore com'st thou?<br>
<i>Light.</i> To comfort you, and bring you joyful news.<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> Small comfort finds poor Edward in thy looks:<br>
Villain, I know thou com'st to murder me.<br>
<i>Light.</i> To murder you, my most gracious lord?<br>
Far is it from my heart to do you harm.<br>
The queen sent me to see how you were us'd,<br>
For she relents at this your misery:<br>
And what eye can refrain from shedding tears,<br>
To see a king in this most piteous state?<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> Weep'st thou already? list a while to me,<br>
And then thy heart, were it as Gurney's is,<br>
Or as Matrevis', hewn from the Caucasus,<br>
Yet will it melt ere I have done my tale.<br>
This dungeon where they keep me is the sink<br>
Wherein the filth of all the castle falls.<br>
<i>Light.</i> O villains!<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> And there, in mire and puddle, have I stood<br>
This ten days' space; and, lest that I should sleep,<br>
One plays continually upon a drum;<br>
They give me bread and water, being a king;<br>
So that, for want of sleep and sustenance,<br>
My mind's distemper'd, and my body's numb'd,<br>
And whether I have limbs or no I know not.<br>
O, would my blood dropp'd out from every vein,<br>
As doth this water from my tatter'd robes!<br>
Tell Isabel the queen, I look'd not thus,<br>
When for her sake I ran at tilt in France,<br>
And there unhors'd the Duke of Cleremont.<br>
<i>Light.</i> O, speak no more, my lord! this breaks my heart.<br>
Lie on this bed, and rest yourself a while.<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> These looks of thine can harbour naught but death;<br>
I see my tragedy written in thy brows.<br>
Yet stay a while; forbear thy bloody hand,<br>
And let me see the stroke before it comes,<br>
That even then when I shall lose my life,<br>
My mind may be more steadfast on my God.<br>
<i>Light.</i> What means your highness to mistrust me thus?<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> What mean'st thou to dissemble with me thus?<br>
<i>Light.</i> These hands were never stain'd with innocent blood,<br>
Nor shall they now be tainted with a king's.<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> Forgive my thought for having such a thought.<br>
One jewel have I left; receive thou this: [<i>Gives jewel.</i><br>
Still fear I, and I know not what's the cause,<br>
But every joint shakes as I give it thee.<br>
O, if thou harbour'st murder in thy heart,<br>
Let this gift change thy mind, and save thy soul!<br>
Know that I am a king: O, at that name<br>
I feel a hell of grief! where is my crown?<br>
Gone, gone! and do I [still] remain alive?<br>
<i>Light.</i> You're overwatch'd, my lord: lie down and rest.<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> But that grief keeps me waking, I should sleep;<br>
For not these ten days have these eye-lids clos'd.<br>
Now, as I speak, they fall; and yet with fear<br>
Open again. O, wherefore sitt'st thou here?<br>
<i>Light.</i> If you mistrust me, I'll be gone, my lord.<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> No, no; for, if thou mean'st to murder me,<br>
Thou wilt return again; and therefore stay. [<i>Sleeps.</i><br>
<i>Light.</i> He sleeps.<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> [<i>waking</i>] O, let me not die yet! O, stay a while!<br>
<i>Light.</i> How now, my lord!<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> Something still buzzeth in mine ears,<br>
And tells me, if I sleep, I never wake:<br>
This fear is that which makes me tremble thus;<br>
And therefore tell me, wherefore art thou come?<br>
<i>Light.</i> To rid thee of thy life.—Matrevis, come!<br>
</p>
<p id="id00145"> <i>Enter</i> MATREVIS <i>and</i> GURNEY.</p>
<p id="id00146"><i>K. Edw.</i> I am too weak and feeble to resist.—<br>
Assist me, sweet God, and receive my soul!<br>
<i>Light.</i> Run for the table.<br>
<i>K. Edw.</i> O, spare me, or despatch me in a trice!<br>
[<i>Matrevis brings in a table. King Edward is murdered<br>
by
holding him down on the bed with the table, and<br>
stamping
on it.</i><br>
<i>Light.</i> So, lay the table down, and stamp on it,<br>
But not too hard, lest that you bruise his body.<br>
<i>Mat.</i> I fear me that this cry will raise the town,<br>
And therefore let us take horse and away.<br>
<i>Light.</i> Tell me, sirs, was it not bravely done?<br>
<i>Gur.</i> Excellent well: take this for thy reward.<br>
[<i>Stabs Lightborn, who dies.</i><br>
Come, let us cast the body in the moat,<br>
And bear the king's to Mortimer our lord:<br>
Away! [<i>Exeunt with the bodies.</i><br>
</p>
<p id="id00147"> <i>Enter the younger</i> MORTIMER <i>and</i> MATREVIS.</p>
<p id="id00148"><i>Y. Mor.</i> Is't done, Matrevis, and the murderer dead?<br>
<i>Mat.</i> Ay, my good lord: I would it were undone!<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> Matrevis, if thou now grow'st penitent,<br>
I'll be thy ghostly father; therefore choose,<br>
Whether thou wilt be secret in this,<br>
Or else die by the hand of Mortimer.<br>
<i>Mat.</i> Gurney, my lord, is fled, and will, I fear,<br>
Betray us both; therefore let me fly.<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> Fly to the savages!<br>
<i>Mat.</i> I humbly thank your honour. [<i>Exit.</i><br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> As for myself, I stand as Jove's huge tree,<br>
And others are but shrubs compar'd to me:<br>
All tremble at my name, and I fear none:<br>
Let's see who dare impeach me for his death!<br>
</p>
<p id="id00149"> <i>Enter</i> QUEEN ISABELLA.</p>
<p id="id00150"><i>Q. Isab.</i> Ah, Mortimer, the king my son hath news,<br>
His father's dead, and we have murder'd him!<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> What if he have? the king is yet a child.<br>
<i>Q. Isab.</i> Ay, but he tears his hair, and wrings his hands,<br>
And vows to be reveng'd upon us both.<br>
Into the council-chamber he is gone,<br>
To crave the aid and succour of his peers.<br>
Ay me, see where he comes, and they with him!<br>
Now, Mortimer, begins our tragedy.<br>
</p>
<p id="id00151"> <i>Enter</i> KING EDWARD THE THIRD, Lords, <i>and</i> Attendants.</p>
<p id="id00152" style="margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 0%"><i>First Lord.</i> Fear not, my lord; know that you are a king.<br>
<i>K. Edw. Third.</i> Villain!—<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> Ho, now, my lord!<br>
<i>K. Edw. Third.</i> Think not that I am frighted with thy words:<br>
My father's murder'd through thy treachery;<br>
And thou shalt die, and on his mournful hearse<br>
Thy hateful and accursed head shall lie,<br>
To witness to the world that by thy means<br>
His kingly body was too soon interr'd.<br>
<i>Q. Isab.</i> Weep not, sweet son.<br>
<i>K. Edw. Third.</i> Forbid not me to weep; he was my father;<br>
And had you lov'd him half so well as I,<br>
You could not bear his death thus patiently:<br>
But you, I fear, conspir'd with Mortimer.<br>
<i>First Lord.</i> Why speak you not unto my lord the king?<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> Because I think scorn to be accus'd.<br>
Who is the man dares say I murder'd him?<br>
<i>K. Edw. Third.</i> Traitor, in me my loving father speaks,<br>
And plainly saith, 'twas thou that murder'dst him.<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> But hath your grace no other proof than this?<br>
<i>K. Edw. Third.</i> Yes, if this be the hand of Mortimer.<br>
[<i>Showing letter.</i><br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> False Gurney hath betray'd me and himself.<br>
[<i>Aside to Queen Isabella.</i><br>
<i>Q. Isab.</i> I fear'd as much: murder can not be hid.<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> It is my hand; what gather you by this?<br>
<i>K. Edw. Third.</i> That thither thou didst send a murderer.<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> What murderer? bring forth the man I sent.<br>
<i>K. Edw. Third.</i> Ah, Mortimer, thou know'st that he is slain!<br>
And so shalt thou be too.—Why stays he here?<br>
Bring him unto a hurdle, drag him forth;<br>
Hang him, I say, and set his quarters up:<br>
And bring his head back presently to me.<br>
<i>Q. Isab.</i> For my sake, sweet son, pity Mortimer!<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> Madam, entreat not: I will rather die<br>
Than sue for life unto a paltry boy.<br>
<i>K. Edw. Third.</i> Hence with the traitor, with the murderer!<br>
<i>Y. Mor.</i> Base Fortune, now I see, that in thy wheel<br>
There is a point, to which when men aspire,<br>
They tumble headlong down: that point I touch'd,<br>
And, seeing there was no place to mount up higher,<br>
Why should I grieve at my declining fall?—<br>
Farewell, fair queen: weep not for Mortimer,<br>
That scorns the world, and, as a traveller,<br>
Goes to discover countries yet unknown.<br>
<i>K. Edw. Third.</i> What, suffer you the traitor to delay?<br>
[<i>Exit the younger Mortimer with First Lord and<br>
some of the Attendants.</i><br>
<i>Q. Isab.</i> As thou receivest thy life from me,<br>
Spill not the blood of gentle Mortimer!<br>
<i>K. Edw. Third.</i> This argues that you spilt my father's blood,<br>
Else would you not entreat for Mortimer.<br>
<i>Q. Isab.</i> I spill his blood! no.<br>
<i>K. Edw. Third.</i> Ay, madam, you; for so the rumour runs.<br>
<i>Q. Isab.</i> That rumour is untrue: for loving thee,<br>
Is this report rais'd on poor Isabel.<br>
<i>K. Edw. Third.</i> I do not think her so unnatural.<br>
<i>Sec. Lord.</i> My lord, I fear me it will prove too true.<br>
<i>K. Edw. Third.</i> Mother, you are suspected for his death<br>
And therefore we commit you to the Tower,<br>
Till further trial may be made thereof.<br>
If you be guilty, though I be your son,<br>
Think not to find me slack or pitiful.<br>
<i>Q. Isab.</i> Nay, to my death; for too long have I liv'd,<br>
Whenas my son thinks to abridge my days.<br>
<i>K. Edw. Third.</i> Away with her! her words enforce these tears,<br>
And I shall pity her, if she speak again.<br>
<i>Q. Isab.</i> Shall I not mourn for my beloved lord?<br>
And with the rest accompany him to his grave.<br>
<i>Sec. Lord.</i> Thus, madam, 'tis the king's will you shall hence.<br>
<i>Q. Isab.</i> He hath forgotten me: stay; I am his mother.<br>
<i>Sec. Lord.</i> That boots not; therefore, gentle madam, go.<br>
<i>Q. Isab.</i> Then come, sweet death, and rid me of this grief!<br>
[<i>Exit with Second Lord and some of the Attendants.</i></p>
<p id="id00153"> <i>Re-enter</i> First Lord, <i>with the head of the younger</i><br>
MORTIMER.<br>
</p>
<p id="id00154"><i>First Lord.</i> My lord, here is the head of Mortimer.<br>
<i>K. Edw. Third.</i> Go fetch my father's hearse, where it shall lie;<br>
And bring my funeral robes. [<i>Exeunt Attendants.</i><br>
Accursed
head,<br>
Could I have rul'd thee then, as I do now,<br>
Thou hadst not hatch'd this monstrous treachery!—<br>
Here comes the hearse: help me to mourn, my lords.<br>
</p>
<p id="id00155"> <i>Re-enter</i> Attendants, <i>with the hearse and funeral robes.</i></p>
<p id="id00156"> Sweet father, here unto thy murder'd ghost<br>
I offer up the wicked traitor's head;<br>
And let these tears, distilling from mine eyes,<br>
Be witness of my grief and innocency. [<i>Exeunt.</i><br>
</p>
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