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Edward the Second

by Christopher Marlowe

Dramatis Personae

The troublesome reign and lamentable death of Edward the second, king of England: with the tragical fall of proud Mortimer.

Enter Gaveston reading on a letter that was brought him from the king.

Gaveston:MY father is deceased, come Gaveston, And share the kingdom with thy dearest friend Ah words that make me surfeit with delight: What greater bliss can hap to Gaveston, Than live and be the favorite of a king? Sweet prince I come, these these thy amorous lines, Might have enforced me to have swum from France, And like Leander gasped upon the sand, So thou wouldst smile and take me in thy arms. The sight of London to my exiled eyes, Is as Elysium to a new come soul, Not that I love the city or the men, But that it harbors him I hold so dear, The king, upon whose bosom let me die, And with the world be still at enmity: What need the arctic people love starlight, To whom the sun shines both by day and night. Farewell base stooping to the lordly peers, My knee shall bow to none but to the king, As for the multitude that are but sparks, Raked up in embers of their poverty, Tanti: I’ll fan first on the wind, That glanceth at my lips and flieth away; But how now, what are these?

Enter three poor men.

Poor Men:Such as desire your worship’s service.

Gaveston:What canst thou do?

1. Poor:I can ride.

Gaveston:But I have no horses. What art thou?

2. Poor:A traveler.

Gaveston:Let me see, thou wouldst do well To wait at my trencher, and tell me lies at dinner time, And as I like your discoursing, I’ll have you. And what art thou?

3. Poor:A soldier, that hath served against the Scot.

Gaveston:Why there are hospitals for such as you, I have no war, and therefore sir be gone.

3. Poor:Farewell, and perish by a soldier’s hand, That wouldst reward them with an hospital.

Gaveston:Ay, ay, these words of his move me as much, As if a Goose should play the Porpentine, And dart her plumes, thinking to pierce my breast, But yet it is no pain to speak men fair, I’ll flatter these, and make them live in hope: You know that I came lately out of France, And yet I have not viewed my Lord the king, If I speed well, I’ll entertain you all.

Omnes:We thank your worship.

Gaveston:I have some business, leave me to myself.

Omnes:We will wait here about the court.

Exeunt.

Gaveston:Do: these are not men for me, I must have wanton Poets, pleasant wits, Musicians, that with touching of a string May draw the pliant king which way I please: Music and poetry is his delight, Therefore I’ll have Italian masks by night, Sweet speeches, comedies, and pleasing shows, And in the day when he shall walk abroad, Like Sylvan Nymphs my pages shall be clad, My men like Satyrs grazing on the lawns, Shall with their Goat feet dance an antic hay, Sometime a lovely boy in Dian’s shape, With hair that gilds the water as it glides, Crownets of pearl about his naked arms, And in his sportful hands an Olive tree, To hide those parts which men delight to see, Shall bathe him in a spring, and there hard by, One like Actaeon peeping through the grove, Shall by the angry goddess be transformed, And running in the likeness of an Hart, By yelping hounds pulled down, and seem to die, Such things as these best please his majesty. My lord, here comes the king and the nobles From the parliament, I’ll stand aside.

Enter the King, Lancaster, Mortimer senior, Mortimer junior, Edmund Earl of Kent, Guy Earl of Warwick, etc.

Edward:Lancaster.

Lancaster:My Lord.

Gaveston:That Earl of Lancaster do I abhor.

Edward:Will you not grant me this? in spite of them I’ll have my will, and these two Mortimers, That cross me thus, shall know I am displeased.

Mortimer Senior:If you love us my lord, hate Gaveston.

Gaveston:That villain Mortimer I’ll be his death.

Mortimer Junior:Mine uncle here, this Earl, and I myself, Were sworn to your father at his death, That he should ne’er return into the realm: And know my lord, ere I will break my oath, This sword of mine that should offend your foes, Shall sleep within the scabbard at thy need, And underneath thy banners march who will, For Mortimer will hang his armor up.

Gaveston:Mort. dieu.

Edward:Well Mortimer, I’ll make thee rue these words, Beseems it thee to contradict thy king? Frown’st thou thereat aspiring Lancaster, The sword shall plane the furrows of thy brows, And hew these knees that now are grown so stiff, I will have Gaveston, and you shall know, What danger ’tis to stand against your king.

Gaveston:Well done, Ned.

Lancaster:My lord, why do you thus incense your peers, That naturally would love and honor you: But for that base and obscure Gaveston, four Earldoms have I besides Lancaster, Derby, Salisbury, Lincoln, Leicester, These will I sell to give my soldiers pay, Ere Gaveston shall stay within the realm, Therefore if he be come, expel him straight.

Edmund:Barons and Earls, your pride hath made me mute, But now I’ll speak, and to the proof I hope: I do remember in my father’s days, Lord Percy of the North being highly moved, Braved Mowbry in presence of the king, For which, had not his highness loved him well, He should have lost his head, but with his look, The undaunted spirit of Percy was appeased, And Mowbry and he were reconciled: Yet dare you brave the king unto his face, Brother revenge it, and let these their heads, Preach upon poles for trespass of their tongues.

Warwick:O our heads.

Edward:Ay yours, and therefore I would wish you grant.

Warwick:Bridle thy anger gentle Mortimer.

Mortimer Junior:I cannot, nor I will not, I must speak, Cousin, our hands I hope shall fence our heads, And strike off his that makes you threaten us. Come uncle, let us leave the brainsick king, And henceforth parley with our naked swords.

Mortimer Senior:Wiltshire hath men enough to save our heads.

Warwick:All Warwickshire will love him for my sake.

Lancaster:And Northward Gaveston hath many friends, Adieu my Lord, and either change your mind, Or look to see the throne where you should sit, To float in blood, and at thy wanton head, The glozing head of thy base minion thrown.

Exeunt Nobiles.

Edward:I cannot brook these haughty menaces: Am I a king and must be overruled? Brother display my ensigns in the field, I’ll bandy with the Barons and the Earls, And either die, or live with Gaveston.

Gaveston:I can no longer keep me from my lord.

Edward:What Gaveston, welcome: kiss not my hand, Embrace me Gaveston as I do thee: Why shouldst thou kneel, Knowest thou not who I am? Thy friend, thyself, another Gaveston, Not Hilas was more mourned of Hercules, Than thou hast been of me since thy exile.

Gaveston:And since I went from hence, no soul in hell Hath felt more torment than poor Gaveston.

Edward:I know it, brother welcome home my friend, Now let the treacherous Mortimers conspire, And that high minded earl of Lancaster, I have my wish, in that I joy thy sight, And sooner shall the sea o’erwhelm my land, Then bear the ship that shall transport thee hence: I here create thee Lord high Chamberlain, Chief Secretary to the state and me, Earl of Cornwall, king and lord of Man.

Gaveston:My lord, these titles far exceed my worth.

Edmund:Brother, the least of these may well suffice For one of greater birth than Gaveston.

Edward:Cease brother, for I cannot brook these words, Thy worth sweet friend is far above my gifts, Therefore to equal it receive my heart, If for these dignities thou be envied, I’ll give thee more, for but to honor thee, Is Edward pleased with kingly regiment. Fearest thou thy person? thou shalt have a guard: Wants thou gold? go to my treasury, Wouldst thou be loud and feared? receive my seal, Save or condemn, and in our name command, What so thy mind affects or fancy likes.

Gaveston:It shall suffice me to enjoy your love, Which whiles I have, I think myself as great, As Caesar riding in the Roman street, With captive kings at his triumphant Car.

Enter the Bishop of Coventry.

Edward:Whither goes my Lord of Coventry so fast?

Bishop:To celebrate your father’s exequies, But is that wicked Gaveston returned?

Edward:Ay priest, and lives to be revenged on thee, That wert the only cause of his exile.

Gaveston:’Tis true, and but for reverence of these robes, Thou shouldst not plod one foot beyond this place.

Bishop:I did no more than I was bound to do, And Gaveston unless thou be reclaimed, As then I did incense the parliament, So will I now, and thou shalt back to France.

Gaveston:Saving your reverence, you must pardon me.

Edward:Throw off his golden miter, rend his stole, And in the channel christen him anew.

Edmund:Ah brother, lay not violent hands on him, For he’ll complain unto the see of Rome.

Gaveston:Let him complain unto the see of hell, I’ll be revenged on him for my exile.

Edward:No, spare his life, but seize upon his goods, Be thou lord bishop, and receive his rents, And make him serve thee as thy chaplain, I give him thee, here use him as thou wilt.

Gaveston:He shall to prison, and there die in bolts.

Edward:Ay to the tower, the fleet, or where thou wilt.

Bishop:For this offense be thou accurst of God.

Edward:Who’s there? convey this priest to the tower.

Bishop:True, true.

Edward:But in the meantime Gaveston away, And take possession of his house and goods, Come follow me, and thou shalt have my guard, To see it done, and bring thee safe again.

Gaveston:What should a priest do with so fair a house? A prison may beseem his holiness.

Enter both the Mortimers, Warwick, and Lancaster.

Warwick:’Tis true, the Bishop is in the tower, And goods and body given to Gaveston.

Lancaster:What? will they tyrannize upon the Church? Ah wicked king, accursed Gaveston, This ground which is corrupted with their steps, Shall be their timeless sepulcher, or mine.

Mortimer Junior:Well, let that peevish Frenchman guard him sure Unless his breast be swordproof he shall die.

Mortimer Senior:How now, why droops the earl of Lancaster?

Mortimer Junior:Wherefore is Guy of Warwick discontent?

Lancaster:That villain Gaveston is made an Earl.

Mortimer Senior:An Earl!

Warwick:Ay, and besides, lord Chamberlain of the realm, And secretary too, and lord of Man.

Mortimer Senior:We may not, nor we will not suffer this.

Mortimer Junior:Why post we not from hence to levy men?

Lancaster:My lord of Cornwall, now at every word, And happy is the man, whom he vouchsafes For vailing of his bonnet one good look, Thus arm in arm, the king and he doth march: Nay more, the guard upon his lordship waits: And all the court begins to flatter him.

Warwick:Thus leaning on the shoulder of the king. He nods, and scorns, and smiles at those that pass.

Mortimer Senior:Doth no man take exceptions at the slave?

Lancaster:All stomach him, but none dare speak a word.

Mortimer Junior:Ah that bewrays their baseness Lancaster, Were all the Earls and Barons of my mind, we’ll hale him from the bosom of the king, And at the court gate hang the peasant up, Who swollen with venom of ambitious pride, Will be the ruin of the realm and us.

Enter the Bishop of Canterbury.

Warwick:Here comes my lord of Canterbury’s grace.

Lancaster:His countenance bewrays he is displeased.

Bishop:First were his sacred garments rent and torn, Then laid they violent hands upon him next, Himself imprisoned, and his goods asseized, This certify the Pope, away take horse.

Lancaster:My lord, will you take arms against the king?

Bishop:What need I, God himself is up in arms, When violence is offered to the church.

Mortimer Junior:Then will you join with us that be his peers To banish or behead that Gaveston?

Bishop:What else my lords, for it concerns me near, The Bishopric of Coventry is his.

Enter the Queen.

Mortimer Junior:Madam, whither walks your majesty so fast?

Queen:Unto the forest gentle Mortimer, To live in grief and baleful discontent, For now my lord the king regards me not, But dotes upon the love of Gaveston, He claps his cheeks, and hangs about his neck, Smiles in his face, and whispers in his ears, And when I come, he frowns, as who should say, Go whither thou wilt seeing I have Gaveston.

Mortimer Senior:Is it not strange, that he is thus bewitched?

Mortimer Junior:Madam, return unto the court again: That sly inveigling Frenchman we’ll exile, Or lose our lives: and yet ere that day come, The king shall lose his crown, for we have power, And courage to, to be revenged at full.

Bishop:But yet lift not your swords against the king.

Lancaster:No, but we’ll lift Gaveston from hence.

Warwick:And war must be the means, or he’ll stay still.

Queen:Then let him stay, for rather than my lord Shall be oppressed by civil mutinies, I will endure a melancholy life, And let him frolic with his minion.

Bishop:My lords, to ease all this, but hear me speak, We and the rest that are his counselors, Will meet, and with a general consent, Confirm his banishment with our hands and seals.

Lancaster:What we confirm the king will frustrate.

Mortimer Junior:Then may we lawfully revolt from him.

Warwick:But say my lord, where shall this meeting be?

Bishop:At the new temple.

Mortimer Junior:Content: And in the mean time I’ll entreat you all, To cross to Lambeth, and there stay with me.

Lancaster:Come then let’s away.

Mortimer Junior:Madam farewell.

Queen:Farewell sweet Mortimer, and for my sake, Forbear to levy arms against the king.

Mortimer Junior:Ay, if words will serve, if not, I must.

Enter Gaveston and the earl of Kent.

Gaveston:Edmund the mighty prince of Lancaster, That hath more earldoms than an ass can bear, And both the Mortimers two goodly men, With Guy of Warwick that redoubted knight, Are gone towards Lambeth, there let them remain.

Exeunt.

Enter Nobiles.

Lancaster:Here is the form of Gaveston’s exile: May it please your lordship to subscribe your name.

Bishop:Give me the paper.

Lancaster:Quick quick my lord, I long to write my name.

Warwick:But I long more to see him banished hence.

Mortimer Junior:The name of Mortimer shall fright the king, Unless he be declined from that base peasant.

Enter the King and Gaveston.

Edward:What? are you moved that Gaveston sits here? It is our pleasure, we will have it so.

Lancaster:Your grace doth well to place him by your side, For nowhere else the new earl is so safe.

Mortimer Senior:What man of noble birth can brook this sight? Quam male conveniunt: See what a scornful look the peasant casts.

Pembroke:Can kingly Lions fawn on creeping Ants?

Warwick:Ignoble vassal that like Phaeton, Aspirest unto the guidance of the sun.

Mortimer Junior:Their downfall is at hand, their forces down, We will not thus be faced and overpeered.

Edward:Lay hands on that traitor Mortimer.

Mortimer Senior:Lay hands on that traitor Gaveston.

Edmund:Is this the duty that you owe your king?

Warwick:We know our duties, let him know his peers.

Edward:Whither will you bear him, stay or ye shall die,

Mortimer Senior:We are no traitors, therefore threaten not.

Gaveston:No, threaten not my lord, but pay them home. Were I a king.

Mortimer Junior:Thou villain, wherefore talks thou of a king, That hardly art a gentleman by birth?

Edward:Were he a peasant being my minion, I’ll make the proudest of you stoop to him.

Lancaster:My lord, you may not thus disparage us, Away I say with hateful Gaveston.

Mortimer Senior:And with the earl of Kent that favors him.

Edward:Nay, then lay violent hands upon your king, Here Mortimer, sit thou in Edward’s throne, Warwick and Lancaster, wear you my crown, Was ever king thus overruled as I?

Lancaster:Learn then to rule us better and the realm.

Mortimer Junior:What we have done, our heart blood shall maintain.

Warwick:Think you that we can brook this upstart pride?

Edward:Anger and wrathful fury stops my speech.

Bishop:Why are you moved, be patient my lord, And see what we your councillors have done.

Mortimer Junior:My lords, now let us all be resolute, And either have our wills, or lose our lives.

Edward:Meet you for this, proud overdaring peers, Ere my sweet Gaveston shall part from me, This Isle shall fleet upon the Ocean, And wander to the unfrequented Ind.

Bishop:You know that I am legate to the Pope, On your allegiance to the see of Rome, Subscribe as we have done to his exile.

Mortimer Junior:Curse him, if he refuse, and then may we Depose him and elect another king.

Edward:Ay there it goes, but yet I will not yield, Curse me, depose me, do the worst you can.

Lancaster:Then linger not my lord but do it straight.

Bishop:Remember how the Bishop was abused, Either banish him that was the cause thereof. Or I will presently discharge these lords, Of duty and allegiance due to thee.

Edward:It boots me not to threat, I must speak fair, The Legate of the Pope will be obeyed: My lord, you shall be Chancellor of the realm, Thou Lancaster, high admiral of our fleet, Young Mortimer and his uncle shall be earls, And you lord Warwick, president of the North, And thou of Wales, if this content you not, Make several kingdoms of this monarchy, And share it equally amongst you all, So I may have some nook or corner left, To frolic with my dearest Gaveston.

Bishop:Nothing shall alter us, we are resolved.

Lancaster:Come, come, subscribe.

Mortimer Junior:Why should you love him, whom the world hates so?

Edward:Because he loves me more than all the world: Ah none but rude and savage minded men, Would seek the ruin of my Gaveston, You that be noble born should pity him.

Warwick:You that are princely born should shake him off, For shame subscribe, and let the loon depart.

Mortimer Senior:Urge him my lord.

Bishop:Are you content to banish him the realm?

Edward:I see I must, and therefore am content, Instead of ink, I’ll write it with my tears.

Mortimer Junior:The king is lovesick for his minion.

Edward:’Tis done, and now accursed hand fall off.

Lancaster:Give it me, I’ll have it published in the streets.

Mortimer Junior:I’ll see him presently dispatched away.

Bishop:Now is my heart at ease.

Warwick:And so is mine.

Pembroke:This will be good news to the common sort.

Mortimer Senior:Be it or no, he shall not linger here.

Exeunt Nobiles.

Edward:How fast they run to banish him I love, They would not stir, were it to do me good: Why should a king be subject to a priest? Proud Rome, that hatchest such imperial grooms, For these thy superstitious taperlights, Wherewith thy antichristian churches blaze, I’ll fire thy crazed buildings, and enforce The papal towers, to kiss the lowly ground, With slaughtered priests may Tiber’s channel swell And banks raised higher with their sepulchers: As for the peers that back the clergy thus, If I be king, not one of them shall live.

Enter Gaveston.

Gaveston:My lord I hear it whispered everywhere, That I am banished, and must fly the land.

Edward:’Tis true sweet Gaveston, o were it false, The Legate of the Pope will have it so, And thou must hence, or I shall be deposed, But I will reign to be revenged of them, And therefore sweet friend, take it patiently, Live where thou wilt, I’ll send thee gold enough, And long thou shalt not stay, or if thou dost, I’ll come to thee, my love shall ne’er decline.

Gaveston:Is all my hope turned to this hell of grief.

Edward:Rend not my heart with thy too piercing words, Thou from this land, I from myself am banished.

Gaveston:To go from hence, grieves not poor Gaveston, But to forsake you, in whose gracious looks The blessedness of Gaveston remains, For nowhere else seeks he felicity.

Edward:And only this torments my wretched soul, That whether I will or no thou must depart: Be governor of Ireland in my stead, And there abide till fortune call thee home. Here take my picture, and let me wear thine, O might I keep thee here, as I do this, Happy were I, but now most miserable.

Gaveston:’Tis something to be pitied of a king.

Edward:Thou shalt not hence, I’ll hide thee Gaveston.

Gaveston:I shall be found, and then ’twill grieve me more.

Edward:Kind words, and mutual talk, makes our grief greater. Therefore with dumb embracement let us part, Stay Gaveston I cannot leave thee thus.

Gaveston:For every look, my lord drops down a tear, Seeing I must go, do not renew my sorrow.

Edward:The time is little that thou hast to stay, And therefore give me leave to look my fill, But come sweet friend, I’ll bear thee on thy way.

Gaveston:The peers will frown.

Edward:I pass not for their anger, come let’s go, O that we might as well return as go.

Enter Edmund and Queen Isabell.

Queen:Whither goes my lord?

Edward:Fawn not on me French strumpet, get thee gone.

Queen:On whom but on my husband should I fawn?

Gaveston:On Mortimer, with whom ungentle Queen, I say no more, judge you the rest my lord.

Queen:In saying this, thou wrong’st me Gaveston, Is ’t not enough, that thou corrupts my lord, And art a bawd to his affections, But thou must call mine honor thus in question?

Gaveston:I mean not so, your grace must pardon me.

Edward:Thou art too familiar with that Mortimer, And by thy means is Gaveston exiled, But I would wish thee reconcile the lords, Or thou shalt ne’er be reconciled to me.

Queen:Your highness knows, it lies not in my power.

Edward:Away then, touch me not, come Gaveston.

Queen:Villain, ’tis thou that rob’st me of my lord.

Gaveston:Madam, ’tis you that rob me of my lord.

Edward:Speak not unto her, let her droop and pine.

Queen:Wherein my lord, have I deserved these words? Witness the tears that Isabella sheds, Witness this heart, that sighing for thee breaks, How dear my lord is to poor Isabell.

Edward:And witness heaven how dear thou art to me. There weep, for till my Gaveston be repealed, Assure thyself thou com’st not in my sight.

Exeunt Edward and Gaveston.

Queen:O miserable and distressed Queen! Would when I left sweet France and was embarked, That charming Circe’s walking on the waves, Had changed my shape, or at the marriage day The cup of Hymen had been full of poison, Or with those arms that twined about my neck, I had been stifled, and not lived to see, The king my lord thus to abandon me: Like frantic Juno will I fill the earth, With ghastly murmur of my sighs and cries, For never doted Jove on Ganymede, So much as he on cursed Gaveston, But that will more exasperate his wrath, I must entreat him, I must speak him fair, And be a means to call home Gaveston: And yet he’ll ever dote on Gaveston, And so am I forever miserable.

Enter the Nobles to the Queen.

Lancaster:Look where the sister of the king of France, Sits wringing of her hands, and beats her breast.

Warwick:The king I fear hath ill entreated her.

Pembroke:Hard is the heart, that injures such a saint.

Mortimer Junior:I know ’tis long of Gaveston she weeps.

Mortimer Senior:Why? he is gone.

Mortimer Junior:Madam, how fares your grace?

Queen:Ah Mortimer! now breaks the king’s hate forth, And he confesseth that he loves me not.

Mortimer Junior:Cry quittance Madam then, and love not him.

Queen:No, rather will I die a thousand deaths, And yet I love in vain, he’ll ne’er love me.

Lancaster:Fear ye not Madam, now his minion’s gone, His wanton humor will be quickly left.

Queen:O never Lancaster! I am enjoined, To sue unto you all for his repeal: This wills my lord, and this must I perform, Or else be banished from his highness’ presence.

Lancaster:For his repeal, Madam, he comes not back, Unless the sea cast up his shipwreck body.

Warwick:And to behold so sweet a sight as that, There’s none here, but would run his horse to death.

Mortimer Junior:But madam, would you have us call him home?

Queen:Ay Mortimer, for till he be restored, The angry king hath banished me the court: And therefore as thou lovest and tend’rest me, Be thou my advocate unto these peers.

Mortimer Junior:What, would ye have me plead for Gaveston?

Mortimer Senior:Plead for him he that will, I am resolved.

Lancaster:And so am I my lord, dissuade the Queen.

Queen:O Lancaster, let him dissuade the king, For ’tis against my will he should return.

Warwick:Then speak not for him, let the peasant go.

Queen:’Tis for myself I speak, and not for him.

Pembroke:No speaking will prevail, and therefore cease.

Mortimer Junior:Fair Queen forbear to angle for the fish, Which being caught, strikes him that takes it dead, I mean that vile Torpedo, Gaveston, That now I hope floats on the Irish seas.

Queen:Sweet Mortimer, sit down by me a while, And I will tell thee reasons of such weight, As thou wilt soon subscribe to his repeal.

Mortimer Junior:It is impossible, but speak your mind.

Queen:Then thus, but none shall hear it but ourselves.

Lancaster:My Lords albeit the Queen win Mortimer, will you be resolute and hold with me?

Mortimer Senior:Not I against my nephew.

Pembroke:Fear not, the queen’s words cannot alter him.

Warwick:No, do but mark how earnestly she pleads.

Lancaster:And see how coldly his looks make denial.

Warwick:She smiles, now for my life his mind is changed.

Lancaster:I’ll rather lose his friendship I, then grant.

Mortimer Junior:Well of necessity it must be so, My Lords, that I abhor base Gaveston, I hope your honors make no question, And therefore though I plead for his repeal, ’Tis not for his sake, but for our avail: Nay for the realm’s behoof and for the king’s.

Lancaster:Fie Mortimer, dishonor not thyself, Can this be true ’twas good to banish him? And is this true to call him home again? Such reasons make white black, and dark night day.

Mortimer Junior:My Lord of Lancaster, mark the respect.

Lancaster:In no respect can contraries be true.

Queen:Yet good my lord, hear what he can allege.

Warwick:All that he speaks, is nothing, we are resolved.

Mortimer Junior:Do you not wish that Gaveston were dead?

Pembroke:I would he were.

Mortimer Junior:Why then my lord, give me but leave to speak.

Mortimer Senior:But nephew, do not play the sophister.

Mortimer Junior:This which I urge, is of a burning zeal, To mend the king, and do our country good: Know you not Gaveston hath store of gold, Which may in Ireland purchase him such friends, As he will front the mightiest of us all, And whereas he shall live and be beloved, ’Tis hard for us to work his overthrow.

Warwick:Mark you but that my lord of Lancaster.

Mortimer Junior:But were he here, detested as he is, How easily might some base slave be suborned, To greet his lordship with a poniard, And none so much as blame the murderer, But rather praise him for that brave attempt, And in the Chronicle, enrol his name, For purging of the realm of such a plague.

Pembroke:He saith true.

Lancaster:Ay, but how chance this was not done before?

Mortimer Junior:Because my lords, it was not thought upon: Nay more, when he shall know it lies in us, To banish him, and then to call him home, ’Twill make him vail the topflag of his pride, And fear to offend the meanest noble man.

Mortimer Senior:But how if he do not Nephew?

Mortimer Junior:Then may we with some color rise in arms, For howsoever we have borne it out, ’Tis treason to be up against the king, So shall we have the people of our side, Which for his father’s sake lean to the king, But cannot brook a night grown mushroom, Such a one as my Lord of Cornwall is, Should bear us down of the nobility, And when the commons and the nobles join, ’Tis not the king can buckler Gaveston. we’ll pull him from the strongest hold he hath, My lords, if to perform this I be slack, Think me as base a groom as Gaveston.

Lancaster:On that condition Lancaster will grant.

Warwick:And so will Pembroke and I.

Mortimer Senior:And I.

Mortimer Junior:In this I count me highly gratified, And Mortimer will rest at your command.

Queen:And when this favor Isabell forgets, Then let her live abandoned and forlorn, But see in happy time, my lord the king, Having brought the Earl of Cornwall on his way, Is new returned, this news will glad him much, Yet not so much as me, I love him more Than he can Gaveston, would he loved me But half so much, then were I treble blessed.

Enter king Edward mourning.

Edward:He’s gone, and for his absence thus I mourn, Did never sorrow go so near my heart, As doth the want of my sweet Gaveston, And could my crown’s revenue bring him back, I would freely give it to his enemies, And think I gained, having bought so dear a friend.

Queen:Hark how he harps upon his minion.

Edward:My heart is as an anvil unto sorrow, Which beats upon it like the Cyclops’ hammers, And with the noise turns up my giddy brain, And makes me frantic for my Gaveston: Ah had some bloodless fury rose from hell, And with my kingly sceptre stroke me dead, When I was forced to leave my Gaveston.

Lancaster:Diablo, what passions call you these

Queen:My gracious lord, I come to bring you news.

Edward:That you have parled with your Mortimer.

Queen:That Gaveston my Lord shall be repealed.

Edward:Repealed, the news is too sweet to be true.

Queen:But will you love me, if you find it so?

Edward:If it be so, what will not Edward do?

Queen:For Gaveston, but not for Isabell.

Edward:For thee fair Queen, if thou lovest Gaveston, I’ll hang a golden tongue about thy neck, Seeing thou hast pleaded with so good success.

Queen:No other jewels hang about my neck Than these my lord, nor let me have more wealth, Than I may fetch from this rich treasury: O how a kiss revives poor Isabell.

Edward:Once more receive my hand, and let this be, A second marriage ’twixt thyself and me.

Queen:And may it prove more happy than the first, My gentle lord, bespeak these nobles fair, That wait attendance for a gracious look, And on their knees salute your majesty.

Edward:Courageous Lancaster, embrace thy king, And as gross vapors perish by the sun, Even so let hatred with thy sovereign smile, Live thou with me as my companion.

Lancaster:This salutation overjoys my heart.

Edward:Warwick, shall be my chiefest counselor: These silver hairs will more adorn my court, Then gaudy silks, or rich embroidery, Chide me sweet Warwick, if I go astray.

Warwick:Slay me my lord, when I offend your grace.

Edward:In solemn triumphs, and in public shows, Pembroke shall bear the sword before the king.

Pembroke:And with this sword, Pembroke will fight for you.

Edward:But wherefore walks young Mortimer aside? Be thou commander of our royal fleet, Or if that lofty office like thee not, I make thee here lord Marshal of the realm.

Mortimer Junior:My lord, I’ll marshal so your enemies, As England shall be quiet, and you safe.

Edward:And as for you, lord Mortimer of Chirke, Whose great achievements in our foreign war, Deserves no common place, nor mean reward: Be you the general of the levied troops, That now are ready to assail the Scots.

Mortimer Senior:In this your grace hath highly honored me, For with my nature war doth best agree.

Queen:Now is the king of England rich and strong. Having the love of his renowned peers.

Edward:Ay Isabell, ne’er was my heart so light, Clerk of the crown, direct our warrant forth, For Gaveston to Ireland: Beaumont fly, As fast as Iris, or Jove’s mercury.

Beaumont:It shall be done my gracious Lord.

Edward:Lord Mortimer, we leave you to your charge Now let us in, and feast it royally: Against our friend the earl of Cornwall comes, We’ll have a general tilt and tournament, And then his marriage shall be solemnized, For wot you not that I have made him sure, Unto our cousin, the earl of Gloucester’s heir.

Lancaster:Such news we hear my lord.

Edward:That day, if not for him. yet for my sake, Who in the triumph will be challenger, Spare for no cost, we will requite your love.

Warwick:In this, or aught, your highness shall command us.

Edward:Thanks gentle Warwick, come let’s in and revel.

Exeunt.

Manent Mortimers.

Mortimer Senior:Nephew, I must to Scotland, thou stayest here, Leave now to oppose thyself against the king, Thou seest by nature he is mild and calm, And seeing his mind so dotes on Gaveston, Let him without controlment have his will, The mightiest kings have had their minions, Great Alexander loved Ephestion, The conquering Hector, for Hilas wept, And for Patroclus stern Achilles drooped, And not kings only, but the wisest men, The Roman Tully loved Octavis, Grave Socrates, wild Alcibiades: Then let his grace, whose youth is flexible, And promiseth as much as we can wish, Freely enjoy that vain light-headed earl, For riper years will wean him from such toys.

Mortimer Junior:Uncle, his wanton humor grieves not me, But this I scorn, that one so basely born, Should by his sovereign’s favor grow so pert, And riot it with the treasure of the realm, While soldiers mutiny for want of pay, He wears a lord’s revenue on his back, And Midas-like he jets it in the court, With base outlandish cullions at his heels, Whose proud fantastic liveries make such show, As if that Proteus god of shapes appeared, I have not seen a dapper jack so brisk, He wears a short Italian hooded cloak, Larded with pearl, and in his tuscan cap A jewel of more value than the crown, Whiles other walk below, the king and he From out a window, laugh at such as we, And flout our train, and jest at our attire: Uncle, ’tis this that makes me impatient.

Mortimer Senior:But nephew, now you see the king is changed.

Mortimer Junior:Then so am I, and live to do him service, But whiles I have a sword, a hand, a heart, I will not yield to any such upstart. You know my mind, come uncle let’s away.

Exeunt.

Enter Spencer and Baldock.

Baldock:Spencer, seeing that our Lord th’ earl of Gloucester’s dead, Which of the nobles dost thou mean to serve?

Spencer:Not Mortimer, nor any of his side, Because the king and he are enemies, Baldock: learn this of me, a factious lord Shall hardly do himself good, much less us, But he that hath the favor of a king, May with one word, advance us while we live: The liberal earl of Cornwall is the man, On whose good fortune Spencer’s hope depends.

Baldock:What, mean you then to be his follower?

Spencer:No, his companion, for he loves me well, And would have once preferred me to the king.

Baldock:But he is banished, there’s small hope of him.

Spencer:Ay for a while, but Baldock mark the end, A friend of mine told me in secrecy, That he’s repealed, and sent for back again, And even now, a post came from the court, With letters to our lady from the King, And as she read, she smiled, which makes me think, It is about her lover Gaveston.

Baldock:’Tis like enough, for since he was exiled, She neither walks abroad, nor comes in sight: But I had thought the match had been broke off, And that his banishment had changed her mind.

Spencer:Our Lady’s first love is not wavering, My life for thine she will have Gaveston.

Baldock:Then hope I by her means to be preferred, Having read unto her since she was a child.

Spencer:Then Baldock, you must cast the scholar off, And learn to court it like a Gentleman, ’Tis not a black coat and a little band, A Velvet capped cloak, faced before with Serge, And smelling to a Nosegay all the day, Or holding of a napkin in your hand, Or saying a long grace at a table’s end, Or making low legs to a noble man, Or looking downward, with your eye lids close, And saying, truly an ’t may please your honor, Can get you any favor with great men, You must be proud, bold, pleasant, resolute, And now and then, stab as occasion serves.

Baldock:Spencer, thou knowest I hate such formal toys, And use them but of mere hypocrisy. Mine old lord whiles he lived, was so precise, That he would take exceptions at my buttons, And being like pins heads, blame me for the bigness, Which made me curate-like in mine attire, Though inwardly licentious enough, And apt for any kind of villainy. I am none of these common pedants I, That cannot speak without propterea quod.

Spencer:But one of those that saith quandoquidem, And hath a special gift to form a verb.

Baldock:Leave off this jesting, here my lady comes.

Enter the Lady.

Lady:The grief for his exile was not so much, As is the joy of his returning home, This letter came from my sweet Gaveston, What needst thou love, thus to excuse thyself? I know thou couldst not come and visit me, I will not long be from thee though I die: This argues the entire love of my Lord, When I forsake thee, death seize on my heart, But rest thee here where Gaveston shall sleep. Now to the letter of my Lord the King, He wills me to repair unto the court, And meet my Gaveston: why do I stay, Seeing that he talks thus of my marriage day? Who’s there, Baldock? See that my coach be ready, I must hence.

Baldock:It shall be done madam.

Exit.

Lady:And meet me at the park pale presently: Spencer, stay you and bear me company, For I have joyful news to tell thee of, My lord of Cornwall is a coming over, And will be at the court as soon as we.

Spencer:I knew the King would have him home again.

Lady:If all things sort out, as I hope they will, Thy service Spencer shall be thought upon.

Spencer:I humbly thank your ladyship.

Lady:Come lead the way, I long till I am there.

Enter Edward, the Queen, Lancaster, Mortimer, Warwick, Pembroke, Kent, attendants.

Edward:The wind is good, I wonder why he stays, I fear me he is wracked upon the sea.

Queen:Look Lancaster how passionate he is, And still his mind runs on his minion.

Lancaster:My Lord.

Edward:How now, what news, is Gaveston arrived?

Mortimer Junior:Nothing but Gaveston, what means your grace? You have matters of more weight to think upon, The King of France sets foot in Normandy.

Edward:A trifle, we’ll expel him when we please: But tell me Mortimer, what’s thy device, Against the stately triumph we decreed?

Mortimer Junior:A homely one my lord, not worth the telling.

Edward:Prithee let me know it.

Mortimer Junior:But seeing you are so desirous, thus it is: A lofty Cedar tree fair flourishing, On whose top-branches Kingly Eagles perch, And by the bark a canker creeps me up, And gets unto the highest bough of all, The motto: Aeque tandem.

Edward:And what is yours my lord of Lancaster?

Lancaster:My lord, mines more obscure than Mortimer’s, Pliny reports, there is a flying Fish, Which all the other fishes deadly hate, And therefore being pursued, it takes the air: No sooner is it up, but there’s a fowl, That seizeth it: this fish my lord I bear, The motto this: Undique mors est.

Edward:Proud Mortimer, ungentle Lancaster, Is this the love you bear your sovereign? Is this the fruit your reconcilement bears? Can you in words make show of amity, And in your shields display your rancorous minds? What call you this but private libeling, Against the Earl of Cornwall and my brother?

Queen:Sweet husband be content, they all love you.

Edward:They love me not that hate my Gaveston, I am that Cedar, shake me not too much, And you the Eagles, soar ye ne’er so high, I have the jesses that will pull you down, And Aeque tandem shall that canker cry, Unto the proudest peer of Britainy: Though thou compar’st him to a flying Fish, And threatenest death whether he rise or fall, ’Tis not the hugest monster of the sea, Nor foulest Harpy that shall swallow him.

Mortimer Junior:If in his absence thus he favors him, What will he do when as he shall be present?

Lancaster:That shall we see, look where his lordship comes.

Enter Gaveston.

Edward:My Gaveston, welcome to Tynemouth, welcome to thy friend, Thy absence made me droop, and pine away, For as the lovers of fair Danae, When she was locked up in a brazen tower, Desired her more, and waxed outrageous, So did it sure with me: and now thy sight Is sweeter far, then was thy parting hence Bitter and irksome to my sobbing heart.

Gaveston:Sweet Lord and King, your speech preventeth mine, Yet have I words left to express my joy: The shepherd nipped with biting winter’s rage, Frolicks not more to see the painted spring, Than I do to behold your Majesty.

Edward:Will none of you salute my Gaveston?

Lancaster:Salute him? yes welcome Lord Chamberlain.

Mortimer Junior:Welcome is the good Earl of Cornwall

Warwick:Welcome Lord governor of the Isle of man.

Pembroke:Welcome master secretary.

Edward:Brother do you hear them?Still will these Earls and Barons use me thus?

Gaveston:My Lord I cannot brook these injuries.

Queen:Aye me poor soul when these begin to jar.

Edward:Return it to their throats, I’ll be thy warrant.

Gaveston:Base leaden Earls that glory in your birth, Go sit at home and eat your tenants’ beef: And come not here to scoff at Gaveston, Whose mounting thoughts did never creep so low, As to bestow a look on such as you.

Lancaster:Yet I disdain not to do this for you.

Edward:Treason, treason: where’s the traitor?

Pembroke:Here here King: convey hence Gaveston, they’ll murder him.

Gaveston:The life of thee shall salve this foul disgrace.

Mortimer Junior:Villain thy life, unless I miss mine aim.

Queen:Ah furious Mortimer what hast thou done?

Mortimer Junior:No more than I would answer were he slain.

Edward:Yes more than thou canst answer though he live, Dear shall you both abye this riotous deed: Out of my presence, come not near the court.

Mortimer Junior:I’ll not be barred the court for Gaveston.

Lancaster:We’ll hail him by the ears unto the block.

Edward:Look to your own heads, his is sure enough.

Warwick:Look to your own crown, if you back him thus.

Edmund:Warwick, these words do ill beseem thy years.

Edward:Nay all of them conspire to cross me thus, But if I live, I’ll tread upon their heads, That think with high looks thus to tread me down, Come Edmund let’s away, and levy men, ’Tis war that must abate these Barons’ pride.

Exit the King.

Warwick:Let’s to our castles, for the king is moved.

Mortimer Junior:Moved may he be, and perish in his wrath.

Lancaster:Cousin it is no dealing with him now, He means to make us stoop by force of arms, And therefore let us jointly here protest, To prosecute that Gaveston to the death.

Mortimer Junior:By heaven, the abject villain shall not live.

Warwick:I’ll have his blood, or die in seeking it.

Pembroke:The like oath Pembroke takes.

Lancaster:And so doth Lancaster: Now send our Heralds to defy the King, And make the people swear to put him down.

Enter a Post.

Mortimer Junior:Letters, from whence?

Messenger:From Scotland my lord.

Lancaster:Why how now cousin, how fares all our friends?

Mortimer Junior:My uncle’s taken prisoner by the Scots.

Lancaster:We’ll have him ransomed man, be of good cheer.

Mortimer Junior:They rate his ransom at five thousand pound, Who should defray the money, but the King, Seeing he is taken prisoner in his wars? I’ll to the King.

Lancaster:Do cousin, and I’ll bear thee company.

Warwick:Mean time my lord of Pembroke and myself, Will to Newcastle here, and gather head.

Mortimer Junior:About it then, and we will follow you.

Lancaster:Be resolute, and full of secrecy.

Warwick:I warrant you.

Mortimer Junior:Cousin, and if he will not ransom him, I’ll thunder such a peal into his ears, As never subject did unto his King.

Lancaster:Content, I’ll bear my part, holla who’s there?

Mortimer Junior:Ay marry, such a guard as this doth well.

Lancaster:Lead on the way.

Guard:Whither will your lordships?

Mortimer Junior:Whither else but to the King.

Guard:His highness is disposed to be alone.

Lancaster:Why, so he may, but we will speak to him.

Guard:You may not in my lord.

Mortimer Junior:May we not.

Edward:How now, what noise is this? Who have we there, is ’t you?

Mortimer Junior:Nay, stay my lord, I come to bring you news, Mine uncle’s taken prisoner by the Scots.

Edward:Then ransom him.

Lancaster:’Twas in your wars, you should ransom him.

Mortimer Junior:And you shall ransom him, or else.

Edmund:What Mortimer, you will not threaten him?

Edward:Quiet yourself, you shall have the broad seal, To gather for him throughout the realm.

Lancaster:Your minion Gaveston hath taught you this.

Mortimer Junior:My lord, the family of the Mortimers Are not so poor, but would they sell their land, Would levy men enough to anger you, We never beg, but use such prayers as these.

Edward:Shall I still be haunted thus?

Mortimer Junior:Nay, now you are here alone, I’ll speak my mind.

Lancaster:And so will I, and then my lord farewell.

Mortimer Junior:The idle triumphs, masques, lascivious shows And prodigal gifts bestowed on Gaveston, Have drawn thy treasure dry, and made thee weak, The murmuring commons overstretched hath.

Lancaster:Look for rebellion, look to be deposed, Thy garrisons are beaten out of France, And lame and poor, lie groaning at the gates, The wild O’Neill, with swarms of Irish Kerns, Lives uncontrolled within the English pale, Unto the walls of York the Scots made road, And unresisted, drave away rich spoils.

Mortimer Junior:The haughty Dane commands the narrow seas, While in the harbor ride thy ships unrigged.

Lancaster:What foreign prince sends thee ambassadors?

Mortimer Junior:Who loves thee? but a sort of flatterers.

Lancaster:Thy gentle Queen, sole sister to Valois, Complains, that thou hast left her all forlorn.

Mortimer Junior:Thy court is naked, being bereft of those, That makes a king seem glorious to the world, I mean the peers, whom thou shouldst dearly love: Libels are cast again thee in the street, Ballads and rhymes, made of thy overthrow.

Lancaster:The Northern borderers seeing the houses burnt Their wives and children slain, run up and down, Cursing the name of thee and Gaveston.

Mortimer Junior:When wert thou in the field with banner spread? But once, and then thy soldiers marched like players, With garish robes, not armor, and thyself Bedaubed with gold, rode laughing at the rest, Nodding and shaking of thy spangled crest, Where women’s favors hung like labels down.

Lancaster:And thereof came it, that the fleering Scots, To England’s high disgrace, have made this Jig, Maids of England, sore may you mourn, For your lemans you have lost, at Bannocksbourn, With a heave and a ho, What weeneth the king of England, So soon to have won Scotland, With a rumbelow.

Mortimer Junior:Wigmore shall fly, to set my uncle free.

Lancaster:And when ’tis gone, our swords shall purchase more, If ye be moved, revenge it as you can, Look next to see us with our ensigns spread.

Exeunt Nobiles.

Edward:My swelling heart for very anger breaks, How oft have I been baited by these peers? And dare not be revenged, for their power is great: Yet, shall the crowing of these cockerels, Affright a Lion? Edward, unfold thy paws, And let their lives’ blood slake thy furies hunger: If I be cruel, and grow tyrannous, Now let them thank themselves, and rue too late.

Edmund:My lord, I see your love to Gaveston, Will be the ruin of the realm and you, For now the wrathful nobles threaten wars, And therefore brother banish him for ever.

Edward:Art thou an enemy to my Gaveston?

Edmund:Ay, and it grieves me that I favored him.

Edward:Traitor be gone, whine thou with Mortimer.

Edmund:So will I, rather than with Gaveston.

Edward:Out of my sight, and trouble me no more.

Edmund:No marvel though thou scorn thy noble peers, When I thy brother am rejected thus.

Exit.

Edward:Away poor Gaveston, that hast no friend but me, Do what they can, we’ll live in Tynemouth here, And so I walk with him about the walls, What care I though the Earls begirt us round, Here comes she that’s cause of all these jars.

Enter the Queen, Ladies 3, Baldock, and Spencer.

Queen:My lord, ’tis thought, the Earls are up in arms.

Edward:Ay, and ’tis likewise thought you favor him.

Queen:Thus do you still suspect me without cause.

Lady:Sweet uncle speak more kindly to the queen.

Gaveston:My lord, dissemble with her, speak her fair.

Edward:Pardon me sweet, I forgot myself.

Queen:Your pardon is quickly got of Isabell.

Edward:The younger Mortimer is grown so brave, That to my face he threatens civil wars.

Gaveston:Why do you not commit him to the tower?

Edward:I dare not, for the people love him well.

Gaveston:Why then we’ll have him privily made away.

Edward:Would Lancaster and he had both caroused, A bowl of poison to each others’ health: But let them go, and tell me what are these.

Lady:Two of my father’s servants whilst he lived, May ’t please your grace to entertain them now.

Edward:Tell me, where wast thou born? What is thine arms?

Baldock:My name is Baldock, and my gentry I fetched from Oxford, not from Heraldry.

Edward:The fitter art thou Baldock for my turn, Wait on me, and I’ll see thou shalt not want.

Baldock:I humbly thank your majesty.

Edward:Knowest thou him Gaveston?

Gaveston:Ay my lord, his name is Spencer, he is well allied, For my sake let him wait upon your grace, Scarce shall you find a man of more desert.

Edward:Then Spencer wait upon me, for his sake I’ll grace thee with a higher style ere long.

Spencer:No greater titles happen unto me, Than to be favored of your majesty.

Edward:Cousin, this day shall be your marriage feast, And Gaveston, think that I love thee well, To wed thee to our niece, the only heir Unto the Earl of Gloucester late deceased.

Gaveston:I know my lord, many will stomach me, But I respect neither their love nor hate.

Edward:The headstrong Barons shall not limit me. He that I list to favor shall be great: Come let’s away, and when the marriage ends, Have at the rebels, and their complices.

Exeunt omnes.

Enter Lancaster, Mortimer, Warwick, Pembroke, Kent.

Edmund:My lords, of love to this our native land, I come to join with you, and leave the king, And in your quarrel and the realm’s behoof, Will be the first that shall adventure life.

Lancaster:I fear me you are sent of policy, To undermine us with a show of love.

Warwick:He is your brother, therefore have we cause To cast the worst, and doubt of your revolt.

Edmund:Mine honor shall be hostage of my truth, If that will not suffice, farewell my lords.

Mortimer Junior:Stay Edmund, never was Plantagenet False of his word, and therefore trust we thee.

Pembroke:But what’s the reason you should leave him now?

Edmund:I have informed the Earl of Lancaster.

Lancaster:And it sufficeth: now my lords know this, That Gaveston is secretly arrived, And here in Tynemouth frolics with the king, Let us with these our followers scale the walls, And suddenly surprise them unawares.

Mortimer Junior:I’ll give the onset.

Warwick:And I’ll follow thee.

Mortimer Junior:This tottered ensign of my ancestors, Which swept the desert shore of that dead sea, Whereof we got the name of Mortimer, Will I advance upon this castle walls, Drums strike alarum, raise them from their sport, And ring aloud the knell of Gaveston.

Lancaster:None be so hardy as to touch the King, But neither spare you Gaveston, nor his friends.

Exeunt.

Enter the king and Spencer, to them Gaveston, etc.

Edward:O tell me Spencer, where is Gaveston?

Spencer:I fear me he is slain my gracious lord.

Edward:No, here he comes, now let them spoil and kill: Fly, fly, my lords, the earls have got the hold, Take shipping and away to Scarborough, Spencer and I will post away by land.

Gaveston:O stay my lord, they will not injure you.

Edward:I will not trust them, Gaveston away.

Gaveston:Farewell my Lord.

Edward:Lady, farewell.

Lady:Farewell sweet uncle till we meet again.

Edward:Farewell sweet Gaveston, and farewell Niece.

Queen:No farewell, to poor Isabell, thy Queen?

Edward:Yes, yes, for Mortimer your lover’s sake.

Exeunt omnes, manet Isabella.

Queen:Heavens can witness, I love none but you, From my embracements thus he breaks away, O that mine arms could close this Isle about, That I might pull him to me where I would, Or that these tears that drizzle from mine eyes, Had power to mollify his stony heart, That when I had him we might never part.

Enter the Barons alarms.

Lancaster:I wonder how he ’scaped.

Mortimer Junior:Who’s this, the Queen?

Queen:Ay Mortimer, the miserable Queen, Whose pining heart, her inward sighs have blasted, And body with continual mourning wasted: These hands are tired, with haling of my lord From Gaveston, from wicked Gaveston, And all in vain, for when I speak him fair, He turns away, and smiles upon his minion.

Mortimer Junior:Cease to lament, and tell us where’s the king?

Queen:What would you with the king, is ’t him you seek?

Lancaster:No madam, but that cursed Gaveston, Far be it from the thought of Lancaster, To offer violence to his sovereign, We would but rid the realm of Gaveston, Tell us where he remains, and he shall die.

Queen:He’s gone by water unto Scarborough, Pursue him quickly, and he cannot ’scape, The king hath left him, and his train is small.

Warwick:Forslow no time, sweet Lancaster let’s march.

Mortimer Junior:How comes it, that the king and he is parted?

Queen:That this your army going several ways, Might be of lesser force, and with the power That he intendeth presently to raise, Be easily suppressed: and therefore be gone.

Mortimer Junior:Here in the river rides a Flemish hoy, let’s all aboard, and follow him amain.

Lancaster:The wind that bears him hence, will fill our sails, Come, come aboard, ’tis but an hour’s sailing.

Mortimer Junior:Madam, stay you within this castle here.

Queen:No Mortimer, I’ll to my lord the king.

Mortimer Junior:Nay, rather sail with us to Scarborough.

Queen:You know the king is so suspicious, As if he hear I have but talked with you, Mine honor will be called in question, And therefore gentle Mortimer be gone.

Mortimer Junior:Madam, I cannot stay to answer you, But think of Mortimer as he deserves.

Queen:So well hast thou deserved sweet Mortimer, As Isabel could live with thee for ever, In vain I look for love at Edward’s hand, Whose eyes are fixed on none but Gaveston: Yet once more I’ll importune him with prayers, If he be strange and not regard my words, My son and I will over into France, And to the king my brother there complain, How Gaveston hath robbed me of his love: But yet I hope my sorrows will have end, And Gaveston this blessed day be slain.

Exeunt.

Enter Gaveston pursued.

Gaveston:Yet lusty lords I have escaped your hands, Your threats, your larums, and your hot pursuits, And though divorced from king Edward’s eyes, Yet liveth Pierce of Gaveston unsurprised, Breathing, in hope (malgrado all your beards, That muster rebels thus against your king) To see his royal sovereign once again.

Enter the Nobles.

Warwick:Upon him soldiers, take away his weapons.

Mortimer Junior:Thou proud disturber of thy country’s peace, Corrupter of thy king, cause of these broils, Base flatterer, yield, and were it not for shame, Shame and dishonor to a soldier’s name, Upon my weapon’s point here shouldst thou fall, And welter in thy gore.

Lancaster:Monster of men, that like the Greekish strumpet Trained to arms and bloody wars, So many valiant knights, Look for no other fortune wretch than death, Kind Edward is not here to buckler thee.

Warwick:Lancaster, why talkest thou to the slave? Go soldiers take him hence, For by my sword, his head shall off: Gaveston, short warning shall serve thy turn: It is our country’s cause, That here severely we will execute, Upon thy person: hang him at a bough:

Gaveston:My Lord.

Warwick:soldiers, have him away: But for thou wert the favorite of a King, Thou shalt have so much honor at our hands.

Gaveston:I thank you all my lords, then I perceive, That heading is one, and hanging is the other, And death is all.

Enter earl of Arundel.

Lancaster:How now my lord of Arundel?

Arundel:My lords, king Edward greets you all by me.

Warwick:Arundel, say your message.

Arundel:His majesty, hearing that you had taken Gaveston, Intreateth you by me, yet but he may See him before he dies, for why he says, And sends you word, he knows that die he shall, And if you gratify his grace so far, He will be mindful of the courtesy.

Warwick:How now?

Gaveston:Renowned Edward, how thy name Revives poor Gaveston.

Warwick:No, it needeth not, Arundel, we will gratify the king In other matters, he must pardon us in this, Soldiers away with him.

Gaveston:Why my Lord of Warwick, Will not these delays beget my hopes? I know it lords, it is this life you aim at, Yet grant king Edward this.

Mortimer Junior:Shalt thou appoint what we shall grant? Soldiers away with him: Thus we’ll gratify the king, We’ll send his head by thee, let him bestow His tears on that, for that is all he gets Of Gaveston, or else his senseless trunk.

Lancaster:Not so my Lord, lest he bestow more cost, In burying him, than he hath ever earned.

Arundel:My lords, it is his majesty’s request, And in the honor of a king he swears, He will but talk with him and send him back.

Warwick:When can you tell? Arundel no, we wot, He that the care of realm remits, And drives his nobles to these exigents For Gaveston, will if he seize him once, Violate any promise to possess him.

Arundel:Then if you will not trust his grace in keep, My lords, I will be pledge for his return.

Mortimer Junior:It is honorable in thee to offer this, But for we know thou art a noble gentleman, We will not wrong thee so, To make away a true man for a thief.

Gaveston:How meanst thou Mortimer? that is over base.

Mortimer Junior:Away base groom, robber of king’s renown, Question with thy companions and thy mates.

Pembroke:My lord Mortimer, and you my lords each one, To gratify the king’s request therein, Touching the sending of this Gaveston, Because his majesty so earnestly Desires to see the man before his death, I will upon mine honor undertake To carry him, and bring him back again, Provided this, that you my lord of Arundel Will join with me.

Warwick:Pembroke, what wilt thou do? Cause yet more bloodshed: is it not enough That we have taken him, but must we now Leave him on had-I-wist , and let him go?

Pembroke:My lords, I will not over woo your honors, But if you dare trust Pembroke with the prisoner, Upon mine oath I will return him back.

Arundel:My lord of Lancaster, what say you in this?

Lancaster:Why I say, let him go on Pembroke’s word.

Pembroke:And you lord Mortimer.

Mortimer Junior:How say you my lord of Warwick.

Warwick:Nay, do your pleasures, I know how ’twill prove.

Pembroke:Then give him me.

Gaveston:Sweet sovereign, yet I come To see thee ere I die.

Warwick:Yet not perhaps, If Warwick’s wit and policy prevail.

Mortimer Junior:My lord of Pembroke, we deliver him you, Return him on your honor, sound away.

Exeunt.

Manent Pembroke, Matrevis Gaveston. and Pembroke’s men, four soldiers.

Pembroke:My Lord, you shall go with me, My house is not far hence out of the way, A little, but our men shall go along, We that have pretty wenches to our wives, Sir, must not come so near and balk their lips.

Matrevis:’Tis very kindly spoken my lord of Pembroke, Your honor hath an adamant of power, To draw a prince.

Pembroke:So my lord, come hither James, I do commit this Gaveston to thee, Be thou this night his keeper, in the morning We will discharge thee of thy charge, be gone.

Gaveston:Unhappy Gaveston, whither goest thou now.

Exit cum servis Pembroke.

Horse Boy:My lord, we’ll quickly be at Cobham.

Exeunt ambo.

Enter Gaveston mourning, and the earl of Pembroke’s men.

Gaveston:O treacherous Warwick thus to wrong thy friend!

James:I see it is your life these arms pursue.

Gaveston:Weaponless must I fall and die in bands, Oh must this day be period of my life! Center of all my bliss, and ye be men, Speed to the king.

Enter Warwick and his company.

Warwick:My lord of Pembroke’s men, Strive you no longer, I will have that Gaveston.

James:Your lordship doth dishonor to yourself, And wrong our lord, your honorable friend.

Warwick:No James, it is my country’s cause I follow, Go, take the villain, soldiers come away, We’ll make quick work, commend me to your master My friend, and tell him that I watched it well, Come, let thy shadow parley with king Edward.

Gaveston:Treacherous earl, shall I not see the king?

Warwick:The king of heaven perhaps, no other king, Away.

Exeunt Warwick and his men, with Gaveston.

Manet James cum caeteris.

James:Come fellows, it booted not for us to strive, We will in haste go certify our Lord.

Exeunt.

Enter king Edward and Spencer, with Drums and Fifes.

Edward:I long to hear an answer from the Barons Touching my friend, my dearest Gaveston, Ah Spencer, not the riches of my realm Can ransom him, ah he is marked to die, I know the malice of the younger Mortimer, Warwick I know is rough, and Lancaster Inexorable, and I shall never see My lovely Pierce, my Gaveston again, The Barons overbear me with their pride.

Spencer:Were I king Edward England’s sovereign, Son to the lovely Eleanor of Spain, Great Edward Longshanks’ issue: would I bear These braves, this rage, and suffer uncontrolled These Barons thus to beard me in my land, In mine own realm? my lord pardon my speech, Did you retain your father’s magnanimity? Did you regard the honor of your name? You would not suffer thus your majesty Be counterbuffed of your nobility, Strike off their heads, and let them preach on poles, No doubt, such lessons they will teach the rest, As by their preachments they will profit much, And learn obedience to their lawful king.

Edward:Yea gentle Spencer, we have been too mild, Too kind to them, but now have drawn our sword, And if they send me not my Gaveston, We’ll steel it on their crest, and poll their tops.

Baldock:This haught resolve becomes your majesty, Not to be tied to their affection, As though your highness were a schoolboy still, And must be awed and governed like a child.

Enter Hugh Spencer an old man, father to the young Spencer, with his truncheon, and soldiers.

Spencer Pater:Long live my sovereign the noble Edward, In peace triumphant, fortunate in wars.

Edward:Welcome old man, com’st thou in Edward’s aid? Then tell thy prince, of whence, and what thou art.

Spencer Pater:Lo, with a band of bowmen and of pikes, Brown bills, and targeteers, 400 strong, Sworn to defend king Edward’s royal right, I come in person to your majesty, Spencer, the father of Hugh Spencer there, Bound to your highness everlastingly, For favors done in him, unto us all.

Edward:Thy father Spencer?

Spencer:True, and it like your grace, That powers in lieu of all your goodness shown, His life my lord, before your princely feet.

Edward:Welcome ten thousand times, old man again, Spencer, this love, this kindness to thy King, Argues thy noble mind and disposition: Spencer, I here create thee earl of Wiltshire, And daily will enrich thee with our favor, That as the sunshine shall reflect o’er thee: Beside, the more to manifest our love, Because we hear Lord Bruce doth sell his land, And that the Mortimers are in hand withal, Thou shalt have crowns of us, t’ outbid the Barons, And Spencer, spare them not, but lay it on. Soldiers a largesse, and thrice welcome all.

Spencer:My lord, here comes the Queen.

Enter the Queen and her son, and Levune a Frenchman.

Edward:Madam, what news?

Queen:News of dishonor lord, and discontent, Our friend Levune, faithful and full of trust, Informeth us, by letters and by words, That lord Valois our brother, king of France, Because your highness hath been slack in homage, Hath seized Normandy into his hands, These be the letters, this the messenger.

Edward:Welcome Levune, tush Sib, if this be all, Valois and I will soon be friends again, But to my Gaveston: shall I never see, Never behold thee now? Madam in this matter We will employ you and your little son, You shall go parley with the king of France, Boy, see you bear you bravely to the king, And do your message with a majesty.

King:Commit not to my youth things of more weight Then fits a prince so young as I to bear, And fear not lord and father, heaven’s great beams On Atlas’ shoulder, shall not lie more safe, Than shall your charge committed to my trust.

Queen:A boy, this towardness makes thy mother fear Thou art not marked to many days on earth.

Edward:Madam, we will that you with speed be shipped, And this our son, Levune shall follow you, With all the haste we can dispatch him hence, Choose of our lords to bear you company, And go in peace, leave us in wars at home.

Queen:Unnatural wars, where subjects brave their king, God end them once, my lord I take my leave, To make my preparation for France.

Enter lord Matre.

Edward:What lord Matre. dost thou come alone?

Matrevis:Yea my good lord, for Gaveston is dead.

Edward:Ah traitors, have they put my friend to death, Tell me Matre. died he ere thou cam’st, Or didst thou see my friend to take his death?

Matrevis:Neither my lord, for as he was surprised, Begirt with weapons, and with enemies round, I did your highness’ message to them all, Demanding him of them, entreating rather, And said, upon the honor of my name, That I would undertake to carry him Unto your highness, and to bring him back.

Edward:And tell me, would the rebels deny me that?

Spencer:Proud recreants.

Edward:Yea Spencer, traitors all.

Matrevis:I found them at the first inexorable, The earl of Warwick would not bide the hearing, Mortimer hardly, Pembroke and Lancaster Spake least: and when they flatly had denied, Refusing to receive me pledge for him, The earl of Pembroke mildly thus bespake. My lords, because our sovereign sends for him, And promiseth he shall be safe returned, I will this undertake, to have him hence, And see him redelivered to your hands.

Edward:Well, and how fortunes that he came not?

Spencer:Some treason, or some villainy was cause.

Matrevis:The earl of Warwick seized him on his way, For being delivered unto Pembroke’s men, Their lord road home, thinking his prisoner safe, But ere he came, Warwick in ambush lay, And bore him to his death, and in a trench Strake off his head, and marched unto the camp.

Spencer:A bloody part, flatly against law of arms.

Edward:O shall I speak, or shall I sigh and die!

Spencer:My lord, refer your vengeance to the sword, Upon these Barons, hearten up your men, Let them not unrevenged murder your friends, Advance your standard Edward in the field, And march to fire them from their starting holes.

Edward:[Edward kneels, and saith.] By earth, the common mother of us all, By heaven, and all the moving orbs thereof, By this right hand, and by my father’s sword, And all the honors longing to my crown, I will have heads, and lives for him as many, As I have manors, castles, towns, and towers, Treacherous Warwick, traitorous Mortimer: If I be England’s king, in lakes of gore Your headless trunks, your bodies will I trail, That you may drink your fill, and quaff in blood, And stain my royal standard with the same, That so my bloody colors may suggest Remembrance of revenge immortally, On your accursed traitorous progeny: You villains that have slain my Gaveston, And in this place of honor and of trust, Spencer, sweet Spencer, I adopt thee here, And merely of our love we do create thee Earl of Gloucester, and lord chamberlain, Despite of times, despite of enemies.

Spencer:My lord, here’s is a messenger from the Barons, Desires access unto your majesty.

Edward:Admit him near.

Enter the Herald from the Barons, with his coat of arms.

Messenger:Long live king Edward, England’s lawful lord.

Edward:So wish not they Iwis that sent thee hither, Thou com’st from Mortimer and his complices, A ranker rout of rebels never was: Well, say thy message.

Messenger:The Barons up in arms, by me salute Your highness, with long life and happiness, And bid me say as plainer to your grace, That if without effusion of blood, You will this grief have ease and remedy, That from your princely person you remove This Spencer, as a putrifying branch, That deads the royal vine, whose golden leaves Impale your princely head, your diadem, Whose brightness such pernicious upstarts dim, Say they, and lovingly advise your grace, To cherish virtue and nobility, And have old servitors in high esteem, And shake off smooth dissembling flatterers: This granted, they, their honors, and their lives, Are to your highness vowed and consecrate.

Spencer:Ay traitors, will they still display their pride?

Edward:Away, tarry no answer, but be gone, Rebels, will they appoint their sovereign His sports, his pleasures, and his company: Yet ere thou go, see how I do divorce [Embrace Spencer.] Spencer from me: now get thee to thy lords, And tell them I will come to chastise them, For murdering Gaveston: hie thee, get thee gone, Edward with fire and sword, follows at thy heels, My lord, perceive you how these rebels swell: Soldiers, good hearts, defend your sovereign’s right, For now, even now, we march to make them stoop, Away.

Exeunt.

Alarms, excursions, a great fight, and a retreat.

Enter the king, Spencer the father, Spencer the son, and the noblemen of the king’s side.

Edward:Why do we sound retreat? upon them lords, This day I shall pour vengeance with my sword On those proud rebels that are up in arms, And do confront and countermand their king.

Spencer:I doubt it not my lord, right will prevail.

Spencer Pater:’Tis not amiss my liege for either part, To breathe a while, our men with sweat and dust All choked well near, begin to faint for heat, And this retire refresheth horse and man.

Spencer:Here come the rebels.

Enter the Barons, Mortimer, Lancaster, Warwick, Pembroke, cum caeteris.

Mortimer Junior:Look Lancaster, yonder is Edward among his flatterers.

Lancaster:And there let him be, till he pay dearly for their company.

Warwick:And shall or Warwick’s sword shall smite in vain.

Edward:What rebels, do you shrink, and sound retreat?

Mortimer Junior:No Edward, no, thy flatterers faint and fly.

Lancaster:Th’ad best betimes forsake them and their trains, For they’ll betray thee, traitors as they are.

Spencer:Traitor on thy face, rebellious Lancaster.

Pembroke:Away base upstart, brav’st thou nobles thus.

Spencer Pater:A noble attempt, and honorable deed, Is it not trow ye, to assemble aid, And levy arms against your lawful king?

Edward:For which ere long, their heads shall satisfy, T’ appease the wrath of their offended king.

Mortimer Junior:Then Edward, thou wilt fight it to the last, And rather bathe thy sword in subjects’ blood, Than banish that pernicious company.

Edward:Ay traitors all, rather than thus be braved, Make England’s civil towns huge heaps of stones, And plows to go about our palace gates.

Warwick:A desperate and unnatural resolution, Alarum to the fight, saint George for England, And the Barons right.

Edward:Sir George for England, and king Edward’s right.

Enter Edward, with the Barons captives.

Edward:Now lusty lords, now not by chance of war, But justice of the quarrel and the cause Vailed is your pride, methinks you hang the heads But we’ll advance them traitors, now ’tis time To be avenged on you for all your braves, And for the murder of my dearest friend, To whom right well you knew our soul was knit, Good Pierce of Gaveston my sweet favorite, Ay rebels, recreants, you made him away.

Edmund:Brother, in regard of thee and of thy land, Did they remove that flatterer from thy throne.

Edward:So sir, you have spoke, away, avoid our presence, Accursed wretches, was’t in regard of us, When we had sent our messenger to request He might be spared to come to speak with us, And Pembroke undertook for his return, That thou proud Warwick watched the prisoner, Poor Pierce, and headed him against law of arms, For which thy head shall over look the rest. As much as thou in rage out wentest the rest?

Warwick:Tyrant, I scorn thy threats and menaces, ’Tis but temporal that thou canst inflict.

Lancaster:The worst is death, and better die to live, Than live in infamy under such a king.

Edward:Away with them my lord of Winchester, These lusty leaders Warwick and Lancaster, I charge you roundly off with both their heads, away.

Warwick:Farewell vain world.

Lancaster:Sweet Mortimer farewell.

Mortimer Junior:England, unkind to thy nobility, Groan for this grief, behold how thou art maimed.

Edward:Go take that haughty Mortimer to the tower, There see him safe bestowed, and for the rest, Do speedy execution on them all, be gone.

Mortimer Junior:What Mortimer? can ragged stony wall Immure thy virtue that aspires to heaven, No Edward, England’s scourge, it may not be, Mortimer’s hope surmounts his fortune far.

Edward:Sound drums and trumpets, march with me my friends, Edward this day hath crowned him king a new.

Exit.

Manent Spencer filius, Levune and Baldock.

Spencer:Levune, the trust that we repose in thee, Begets the quiet of king Edward’s land, Therefore be gone in haste, and with advice, Bestow that treasure on the lords of France, That therewith all enchanted like the guard, That suffered Jove to pass in showers of gold To Danae, all aid may be denied To Isabell the Queen, that now in France Makes friends, to cross the seas with her young son, And step into his father’s regiment.

Levune:That’s it these Barons and the subtle Queen, Long levied at.

Baldock:Yea, but Levune thou seest, These Barons lay their heads on blocks together, What they intend, the hangman frustrates clean.

Levune:Have you no doubts my lords, I’ll claps close, Among the lords of France with England’s gold, That Isabell shall make her plaints in vain, And France shall be obdurate with her tears.

Spencer:Then make for France, amain Levune away, Proclaim king Edward’s wars and victories.

Exeunt omnes.

Enter Edmund.

Edmund:Fair blows the wind for France, blow gentle gale, Till Edmund be arrived for England’s good, Nature, yield to my country’s cause in this, A brother, no, a butcher of thy friends, Proud Edward, dost thou banish me thy presence? But I’ll to France, and cheer the wronged Queen, And certify what Edward’s looseness is, Unnatural king, to slaughter noble men And cherish flatterers: Mortimer I stay Thy sweet escape, stand gracious gloomy night to his device.

Enter Mortimer disguised.

Mortimer Junior:Holla, who walketh there, is ’t you my lord?

Edmund:Mortimer ’tis I, but hath thy potion wrought so happily?

Mortimer Junior:It hath my lord, the warders all asleep, I thank them, gave me leave to pass in peace: But hath your grace got shipping unto France?

Edmund:Fear it not.

Exeunt.

Enter the Queen and her son.

Queen:A boy, our friends do fail us all in France, The lords are cruel, and the king unkind, What shall we do?

King:Madam, return to England, And please my father well, and then a Fig For all my uncle’s friendship here in France, I warrant you, I’ll win his highness quickly, ’A loves me better than a thousand Spencers.

Queen:A boy, thou art deceived at least in this, To think that we can yet be tuned together, No, no, we war too far, unkind Valois, Unhappy Isabell, when France rejects, Whither, O whither dost thou bend thy steps.

Enter sir John of Hainault.

Sir John:Madam, what cheer?

Queen:A good sir John of Hainault, Never so cheerless, nor so far distressed.

Sir John:I hear sweet lady of the king’s unkindness, But droop not madam, noble minds contemn Despair: will your grace with me to Hainault? And there stay time’s advantage with your son, How say you my Lord, will you go with your friends, And shake off all our fortunes equally.

King:So pleaseth the Queen my mother, me it likes, The king of England, nor the court of France, Shall have me from my gracious mother’s side, Till I be strong enough to break a staff, And then have at the proudest Spencer’s head.

Sir John:Well said my lord.

Queen:Oh my sweet heart, how do I moan thy wrongs? Yet triumph in the hope of thee my joy, Ah sweet sir John, even to the utmost verge Of Europe, or the shore of Tanais, Will we with thee to Hainault, so we will, The Marquis is a noble Gentleman, His grace I dare presume will welcome me, But who are these?

Enter Edmund and Mortimer.

Edmund:Madam, long may you live, Much happier than your friends in England do.

Queen:Lord Edmund and lord Mortimer alive, Welcome to France: the news was here my lord, That you were dead, or very near your death.

Mortimer Junior:Lady, the last was truest of the twain, But Mortimer reserved for better hap, Hath shaken off the thraldom of the tower, And lives t’ advance your standard good my lord.

King:How mean you, and the king my father lives? No my lord Mortimer, not I, I trow.

Queen:Not son, why not? I would it were no worse, But gentle lords, friendless we are in France.

Mortimer Junior:Monsieur le Grand, a noble friend of yours, Told us at our arrival all the news, How hard the nobles, how unkind the king Hath showed himself: but madam, right makes room, Where weapons want, and though a many friends Are made away, as Warwick, Lancaster, And others of our party and faction, Yet have we friends, assure your grace in England, Would cast up caps, and clap their hands for joy, To see us there appointed for our foes.

Edmund:Would all were well, and Edward well reclaimed, For England’s honor, peace, and quietness.

Mortimer Junior:But by the sword, my lord, it must be deserved. The king will ne’er forsake his flatterers.

Sir John:My Lords of England, sith the ungentle king Of France refuseth to give aid of arms, To this distressed Queen his sister here, Go you with her to Hainault, doubt ye not, We will find comfort, money, men, and friends Ere long, to bid the English king a base, How say young Prince, what think you of the match?

King:I think king Edward will out run us all.

Queen:Nay son, not so, and you must not discourage Your friends that are so forward in your aid.

Edmund:Sir John of Hainault, pardon us I pray, These comforts that you give our woeful queen, Bind us in kindness all at your command.

Queen:Yea gentle brother, and the God of heaven, Prosper your happy motion good sir John.

Mortimer Junior:This noble gentleman forward in arms, Was born I see to be our anchor hold, Sir John of Hainault, be it thy renown, That England’s Queen, and nobles in distress, Have been by thee restored and comforted.

Sir John:Madam along, and you my lord with me, That England’s peers may Hainault’s welcome see.

Enter the king, Matrevis the two Spencers, with others.

Edward:Thus after many threats of wrathful war, Triumpheth England’s Edward with his friends, And triumph Edward with his friends uncontrolled, My lord of Gloucester, do you hear the news?

Spencer:What news my lord?

Edward:Why man, they say there is great execution Done through the realm, my lord of Arundel You have the note, have you not?

Matrevis:From the lieutenant of the tower my lord.

Edward:I pray let us see it, what have we there? Read it Spencer. [Spencer reads their names.] Why so, they barked a pace a month ago, Now on my life, they’ll neither bark nor bite. Now sirs, the news from France, Gloucester I trow, The lords of France love England’s gold so well, As Isabell gets no aid from thence. What now remains, have you proclaimed, my lord, Reward for them can bring in Mortimer?

Spencer:My lord, we have, and if he be in England, ’A will be had ere long I doubt it not.

Edward:If; dost thou say? Spencer, as true as death, He is in England’s ground, our port-masters Are not so careless of their king’s command. [Enter a Post.] How now, what news with thee, from whence come these?

Post:Letters my lord, and tidings forth of France, To you my lord of Gloucester from Levune.

Edward:read.

Spencer:[Spencer reads the letter.] My duty to your honor promised, etc. I have according to instructions in that behalf, dealt with the king of France his lords, and effected, that the Queen all discontented and discomforted , is gone , whither if you ask, with sir John of Hainault , brother to the Marquis, into Flanders: with them are gone lord Edmund, and the lord Mortimer, having in their company divers of your nation, and others, and as constant report goeth, they intend to give king Edward battle in England, sooner than he can look for them: this is all the news of import. Your honors in all service, Levune.

Edward:Ay villains, hath that Mortimer escaped? With him is Edmund gone associate? And will sir John of Hainault lead the round? Welcome a God’s name Madam and your son, England shall welcome you, and all your rout, Gallop a pace bright Phoebus through the sky, And dusky night, in rusty iron car, Between you both, shorten the time I pray, That I may see that most desired day, When we may meet these traitors in the field. Ah nothing grieves me but my little boy, Is thus misled to countenance their ills, Come friends to Bristol, there to make us strong, And winds as equal be to bring them in, As you injurious were to bear them forth.

Enter the Queen, her son, Edmund, Mortimer, and sir John.

Queen:Now lords, our loving friends and countrymen, Welcome to England all with prosperous winds, Our kindest friends in Belgia have we left, To cope with friends at home: a heavy case, When force to force is knit and sword and glaive, In civil broils makes kin and country men, Slaughter themselves in others and their sides With their own weapons gored, but what’s the help? Misgoverned kings are cause of all this wrack, And Edward thou art one among them all, Whose looseness hath betrayed thy land to spoil, And made the channels overflow with blood, Of thine own people patron shouldst thou be, but thou.

Mortimer Junior:Nay madam, if you be a warrior, Ye must not grow so passionate in speeches: Lords, sith that we are by sufferance of heaven, Arrived and armed in this prince’s right, Here for our country’s cause swear we to him All homage, fealty and forwardness, And for the open wrongs and injuries Edward hath done to us, his Queen and land, We come in arms to wreck it with the swords: That England’s queen in peace may repossess Her dignities and honors, and withal We may remove these flatterers from the king, That havocs England’s wealth and treasury.

Sir John:Sound trumpets my lord and forward let us march, Edward will think we come to flatter him.

Edmund:I would he never had been flattered more.

Enter the King, Baldock, and Spencer the son, flying about the stage.

Spencer:Fly, fly, my Lord, the Queen is overstrong. Her friends do multiply and yours do fail, Shape we our course to Ireland there to breathe.

Edward:What, was I born to fly and run away, And leave the Mortimers conquerors behind? Give me my horse and let’s reinforce our troops And in this bed of honor die with fame.

Baldock:O no my lord, this princely resolution Fits not the time, away, we are pursued.

Edmund alone with a sword and target.

Edmund:This way he fled, but I am come too late, Edward, alas my heart relents for thee, Proud traitor Mortimer why dost thou chase Thy lawful king thy sovereign with thy sword? Vild wretch, and why hast thou of all unkind, Borne arms against thy brother and thy king? Rain showers of vengeance on my cursed head Thou God, to whom in justice it belongs, To punish this unnatural revolt: Edward, this Mortimer aims at thy life: O fly him then, but Edmund calm this rage, Dissemble or thou diest, for Mortimer And Isabell do kiss while they conspire, And yet she bears a face of love forsooth: Fie on that love that hatcheth death and hate. Edmund away, Bristol to Longshanks’ blood Is false, be not found single for suspect: Proud Mortimer pries near into thy walks.

Enter the Queen, Mortimer, the young Prince and Sir John of Hainault.

Queen:Successful battles gives the God of kings, To them that fight in right and fear his wrath: Since then successfully we have prevailed, Thanks be heaven’s great architect and you, Ere farther we proceed my noble lords, We here create our well-beloved son, Of love and care unto his royal person, Lord warden of the realm, and sith the fates Have made his father so infortunate, Deal you my lords in this, my loving lords, As to your wisdoms fittest seems in all.

Edmund:Madam, without offense if I may ask, How will you deal with Edward in his fall?

King:Tell me good uncle, what Edward do you mean?

Edmund:Nephew, your father, I dare not call him king.

Mortimer Junior:My lord of Kent, what needs these questions? ’Tis not in her controlment, nor in ours, But as the realm and parliament shall please, So shall your brother be disposed of, I like not this relenting mood in Edmund, Madam, ’tis good to look to him betimes.

Queen:My lord, the Mayor of Bristol knows our mind.

Mortimer Junior:Yea madam, and they scape not easily, That fled the field.

Queen:Baldock is with the king, A goodly chancellor, is he not my lord?

Sir John:So are the Spencers, the father and the son.

Edmund:This Edward is the ruin of the realm.

Enter Rice ap Howell, and the Mayor of Bristow, with Spencer the father.

Rice:God save Queen Isabell, and her princely son, Madam, the Mayor and Citizens of Bristol, In sign of love and duty to this presence, Present by me this traitor to the state, Spencer, the father to that wanton Spencer, That like the lawless Catiline of Rome, Revelled in England’s wealth and treasury.

Queen:We thank you all.

Mortimer Junior:Your loving care in this, Deserveth princely favors and rewards, But where’s the king and the other Spencer fled?

Rice:Spencer the son, created earl of Gloucester, Is with that smooth tongued scholar Baldock gone, And shipped but late for Ireland with the king.

Mortimer Junior:Some whirlwind fetch them back, or sink them all: They shall be started thence I doubt it not.

King:Shall I not see the king my father yet?

Edmund:Unhappy Edward, chased from England’s bounds.

Sir John:Madam, what resteth, why stand ye in a muse?

Queen:I rue my lords ill fortune, but alas, Care of my country called me to this war.

Mortimer Junior:Madam, have done with care and sad complain, Your king hath wronged your country and himself, And we must seek to right it as we may, meanwhile, have hence this rebel to the block, Your lordship cannot privilege your head.

Spencer Pater:Rebel is he that fights against his prince, So fought not they that fought in Edward’s right.

Mortimer Junior:Take him away, he prates, you Rice ap howell, Shall do good service to her Majesty, Being of countenance in your country here, To follow these rebellious runagates, We in meanwhile madam, must take advice, How Baldock, Spencer, and their complices, May in their fall be followed to their end.

Exeunt omnes.

Enter the Abbot, Monks, Edward, Spencer, and Baldock.

Abbot:Have you no doubt my Lord, have you no fear, As silent and as careful will we be, To keep your royal person safe with us, Free from suspect, and fell invasion Of such as have your majesty in chase, yourself, and those your chosen company, As danger of this stormy time requires.

Edward:Father, thy face should harbor no deceit, Oh hadst thou ever been a king, thy heart Pierced deeply with sense of my distress, Could not but take compassion of my state, Stately and proud, in riches and in train, Whilom I was powerful and full of pomp, But what is he, whom rule and empery Have not in life or death made miserable? Come Spencer, come Baldock, come sit down by me, Make trial now of that philosophy, That in our famous nurseries of arts Thou suckedst from Plato, and from Aristotle. Father, this life contemplative is heaven, O that I might this life in quiet lead, But we alas are chased, and you my friends, Your lives and my dishonor they pursue Yet gentle monks, for treasure, gold nor fee, Do you betray us and our company.

Monks:Your grace may sit secure, if none but we do wot of your abode.

Spencer:Not one alive, but shrewdly I suspect, A gloomy fellow in a mead below, ’A gave a long look after us my lord, And all the land I know is up in arms, Arms that pursue our lives with deadly hate.

Baldock:We were embarked for Ireland, wretched we, With awkward winds, and sore tempests driven To fall on shore, and here to pine in fear Of Mortimer and his confederates.

Edward:Mortimer, who talks of Mortimer, Who wounds me with the name of Mortimer That bloody man? good father on thy lap Lay I this head, laden with mickle care, O might I never open these eyes again, Never again lift up this drooping head, O never more lift up this dying heart!

Spencer:Look up my lord. Baldock, this drowsiness Betides no good, here even we are betrayed.

Enter with Welsh hooks, Rice ap Howell, a Mower, and the Earl of Leicester.

Mower:Upon my life, those be the men ye seek

Rice:Fellow enough, my lord I pray be short, A fair commission warrants what we do.

Leicester:The Queen’s commission, urged by Mortimer, What cannot gallant Mortimer with the Queen? Alas, see where he sits, and hopes unseen, T’ escape their hands that seek to reave his life: Too true it is, quem dies vidit veniens superbum, Hunc dies vidit fugiens jacentem. But Leicester leave to grow so passionate, Spencer and Baldock, by no other names, I arrest you of high treason here, Stand not on titles, but obey th’ arrest, ’Tis in the name of Isabell the Queen: My lord, why droop you thus?

Edward:O day! the last of all my bliss on earth; Center of all misfortune. O my stars! Why do you lower unkindly on a king? Comes Leicester then in Isabella’s name, To take my life, my company from me? Here man, rip up this panting breast of mine, And take my heart, in rescue of my friends.

Rice:Away with them.

Spencer:It may be come thee yet, To let us take our farewell of his grace.

Abbot:My heart with pity earns to see this sight, A king to bear these words and proud commands.

Edward:Spencer, ah sweet Spencer, thus then must we part.

Spencer:We must my lord, so will the angry heavens.

Edward:Nay so will hell, and cruel Mortimer, The gentle heavens have not to do in this.

Baldock:My lord, it is in vain to grieve or storm, Here humbly of your grace we take our leaves, Our lots are cast, I fear me so is thine.

Edward:In heaven we may, in earth never shall we meet, And Leicester say, what shall become of us?

Leicester:Your majesty must go to Killingworth.

Edward:Must! ’tis somewhat hard, when kings must go.

Leicester:Here is a Litter ready for your grace, That waits your pleasure, and the day grows old.

Rice:As good be gone, as stay and be benighted.

Edward:A litter hast thou, lay me in a hearse, And to the gates of hell convey me hence, Let Pluto’s bells ring out my fatal knell, And hags howl for my death at Charon’s shore, For friends hath Edward none, but these, and these, And these must die under a tyrant’s sword.

Rice:My lord, be going, care not for these, For we shall see them shorter by the heads.

Edward:Well, that shall be, shall be: part we must, Sweet Spencer, gentle Baldock, part we must, Hence feigned weeds, unfeigned are my woes, Father, farewell: Leicester, thou stayest for me, And go I must, life farewell with my friends.

Exeunt Edward and Leicester.

Spencer:O is he gone! is noble Edward gone, Parted from hence, never to see us more, Rent sphere of heaven, and fire forsake thy orb, Earth melt to air, gone is my sovereign, Gone, gone alas, never to make return.

Baldock:Spencer, I see our souls are fleeted hence, We are deprived the sunshine of our life, Make for a new life man, throw up thy eyes, And heart and hand to heaven’s immortal throne, Pay nature’s debt with cheerful countenance, Reduce we all our lessons unto this, To die sweet Spencer, therefore live we all, Spencer, all live to die, and rise to fall.

Rice:Come, come, keep these preachments till you come to the place appointed You, and such as you are, have made wise work in England. Will your Lordships away?

Mower:Your worship I trust will remember me?

Rice:Remember thee fellow? what else, Follow me to the town.

Enter the king, Leicester, with a Bishop for the crown.

Leicester:Be patient good my lord, cease to lament, Imagine Killingworth castle were your court, And that you lay for pleasure here a space, Not of compulsion or necessity.

Edward:Leicester, if gentle words might comfort me, Thy speeches long ago had eased my sorrows, For kind and loving hast thou always been: The griefs of private men are soon allayed, But not of kings, the forest Deer being struck Runs to an herb that closeth up the wounds, But when the imperial Lion’s flesh is gored, He rends and tears it with his wrathful paw, Highly scorning, that the lowly earth Should drink his blood, mounts up into the air, And so it fares with me, whose dauntless mind The ambitious Mortimer would seek to curb, And that unnatural Queen false Isabell, That thus hath pent and mewed me in a prison, For such outrageous passions cloy my soul, As with the wings of rancor and disdain, Full often am I soaring up to heaven, To plain me to the gods against them both But when I call to mind I am a king, Methinks I should revenge me of the wrongs, That Mortimer and Isabell have done. But what are kings, when regiment is gone, But perfect shadows in a sunshine day? My nobles rule, I bear the name of king, I wear the crown, but am controlled by them, By Mortimer, and my unconstant Queen, Who spots my nuptial bed with infamy, Whilst I am lodged within this cave of care, Where sorrow at my elbow still attends, To company my heart with sad laments, That bleeds within me for this strange exchange. But tell me, must I now resign my crown, To make usurping Mortimer a king?

Bishop:Your grace mistakes, it is for England’s good, And princely Edward’s right we crave the crown.

Edward:No, ’tis for Mortimer, not Edward’s head, For he’s a lamb, encompassed by Wolves, Which in a moment will abridge his life: But if proud Mortimer do wear this crown, Heavens turn it to a blaze of quenchless fire, Or like the snaky wreath of Tisiphon, Engirt the temples of his hateful head, So shall not England’s Vines be perished, But Edward’s name survives, though Edward dies.

Leicester:My lord, why waste you thus the time away, They stay your answer, will you yield your crown?

Edward:Ah Leicester, way, how hardly I can brook To lose my crown and kingdom, without cause, To give ambitious Mortimer my right, That like a mountain overwhelms my bliss. In which extreme my mind here murdered is: But what the heavens appoint, I must obey, Here, take my crown, the life of Edward too, Two kings in England cannot reign at once: But stay a while, let me be king till night, That I may gaze upon this glittering crown, So shall my eyes receive their last content, My head, the latest honor due to it, And jointly both yield up their wished right. Continue ever thou celestial sun, Let never silent night possess this clime, Stand still you watches of the element, All times and seasons rest you at a stay, That Edward may be still fair England’s king: But day’s bright beams doth vanish fast away, And needs I must resign my wished crown, Inhuman creatures, nursed with Tiger’s milk, Why gape you for your sovereign’s overthrow? My diadem I mean, and guiltless life, See monsters see, I’ll wear my crown again, What, fear you not the fury of your king? But hapless Edward, thou art fondly led, They pass not for thy frowns as late they did, But seeks to make a new elected king, Which fills my mind with strange despairing thoughts, Which thoughts are martyred with endless torments. And in this torment, comfort find I none, But that I feel the crown upon my head, And therefore let me wear it yet a while.

Trussell:My Lord, the parliament must have present news, And therefore say, will you resign or no.

The king rageth.

Edward:I’ll not resign, but whilst I live, Traitors be gone, and join you with Mortimer, Elect, conspire, install, do what you will, Their blood and yours shall seal these treacheries.

Bishop:This answer we’ll return, and so farewell.

Leicester:Call them again my lord, and speak them fair, For if they go, the prince shall lose his right.

Edward:Call thou them back, I have no power to speak.

Leicester:My lord, the king is willing to resign.

Bishop:If he be not, let him choose.

Edward:O would I might, but heavens and earth conspire To make me miserable: here receive my crown, Receive it? no, these innocent hands of mine Shall not be guilty of so foul a crime, He of you all that most desires my blood, And will be called the murderer of a king, Take it: what are you moved, pity you me? Then send for unrelenting Mortimer And Isabell, whose eyes been turned to steel, Will sooner sparkle fire then shed a tear: Yet stay, for rather than I will look on them, Here, here: now sweet God of heaven, Make me despise this transitory pomp, And sit for aye enthronized in heaven, Come death, and with thy fingers close my eyes, Or if I live, let me forget myself.

Enter Bartley.

Bartley:My lord.

Edward:Call me not lord, Away, out of my sight, ah pardon me, Grief makes me lunatic, Let not that Mortimer protect my son, More safety is there in a Tiger’s jaws, This his embracements, bear this to the queen, Wet with my tears, and dried again with sighs, If with the sight thereof she be not moved, Return it back and dip it in my blood, Commend me to my son, and bid him rule Better than I, yet how have I transgressed, Unless it be with too much clemency?

Trussell:And thus, most humbly do we take our leave.

Edward:Farewell, I know the next news that they bring, Will be my death, and welcome shall it be, To wretched men death is felicity.

Leicester:Another post, what news brings he?

Edward:Such news as I expect, come Bartley, come, And tell thy message to my naked breast.

Bartley:My lord, think not a thought so villainous Can harbor in a man of noble birth. To do your highness service and devoir, And save you from your foes, Bartley would die.

Leicester:My lord, the counsel of the Queen commands, That I resign my charge.

Edward:And who must keep me now, must you my lord?

Bartley:Ay, my most gracious lord, so ’tis decreed.

Edward:By Mortimer, whose name is written here, Well may I rent his name, that rends my heart, This poor revenge hath something eased my mind, So may his limbs be torn, as is this paper, Hear me immortal Jove, and grant it too.

Bartley:Your grace must hence with me to Bartley straight.

Edward:Whither you will, all places are alike, And every earth is fit for burial.

Leicester:Favor him my lord, as much as lieth in you.

Bartley:even so betide my soul as I use him.

Edward:Mine enemy hath pitied my estate, And that’s the cause that I am now removed.

Bartley:And thinks your grace that Bartley will be cruel?

Edward:I know not, but of this am I assured, That death ends all, and I can die but once, Leicester, farewell.

Leicester:Not yet my lord, I’ll bear you on your way.

Exeunt omnes.

Enter Mortimer, and Queen Isabell.

Mortimer Junior:Fair Isabell, now have we our desire, The proud corrupters of the light-brained king, Have done their homage to the lofty gallows, And he himself lies in captivity, Be ruled by me, and we will rule the realm, In any case, take heed of childish fear, For now we hold an old Wolf by the ears, That if he slip will seize upon us both, And grip the sorer being gripped himself, Think therefore madam that imports as much, To erect your son withal the speed we may, And that I be protector over him, For our behoof will bear the greater sway Whenas a king’s name shall be under writ.

Queen:Sweet Mortimer, the life of Isabell, Be thou persuaded, that I love thee well, And therefore so the prince my son be safe, Whom I esteem as dear as these mine eyes, Conclude against his father what thou wilt, And I myself will willingly subscribe.

Mortimer Junior:First would I hear news that he were deposed, And then let me alone to handle him.

Enter Messenger.

Mortimer Junior:Letters, from whence?

Messenger:From Killingworth my lord.

Queen:How fares my lord the king?

Messenger:In health madam, but full of pensiveness.

Queen:Alas poor soul, would I could ease his grief, Thanks gentle Winchester, sirrah, be gone.

Winchester:The king hath willingly resigned his crown.

Queen:O happy news, send for the prince my son.

Bishop:Further, or this letter was sealed, Lord Bartley came, So that he now is gone from Killingworth, And we have heard that Edmund laid a plot, To set his brother free, no more but so, The lord of Bartley is so pitiful, As Leicester that had charge of him before.

Queen:Then let some other be his guardian.

Mortimer Junior:Let me alone, here is the privy seal, Who’s there, call hither Gurney and Matrevis, To dash the heavy headed Edmund’s drift, Bartley shall be discharged, the king removed, And none but we shall know where he lieth.

Queen:But Mortimer, as long as he survives What safety rests for us, or for my son?

Mortimer Junior:Speak, shall he presently be dispatched and die?

Queen:I would he were, so it were not by my means.

Enter Matrevis and Gurney.

Mortimer Junior:Enough Matrevis, write a letter presently Unto the Lord of Bartley from ourself, That he resign the king to thee and Gurney, And when ’tis done, we will subscribe our name.

Matrevis:It shall be done my lord.

Mortimer Junior:Gurney.

Gurney:My Lord.

Mortimer Junior:As thou intendest to rise by Mortimer, Who now makes Fortune’s wheel turn as he please, Seek all the means thou canst to make him droop, And neither give him kind word, nor good look.

Gurney:I warrant you my lord.

Mortimer Junior:And this above the rest, because we hear That Edmund casts to work his liberty, Remove him still from place to place by night, And at the last, he come to Killingworth, And then from thence to Bartley back again: And by the way to make him fret the more, Speak curstly to him, and in any case Let no man comfort him, if he chance to weep, But amplify his grief with bitter words.

Matrevis:Fear not my Lord, we’ll do as you command.

Mortimer Junior:So now away, post thitherwards amain.

Queen:Whither goes this letter, to my lord the king? Commend me humbly to his Majesty, And tell him, that I labor all in vain, To ease his grief, and work his liberty: And bear him this, as witness of my love.

Matrevis:I will madam.

Exeunt Matrevis and Gurney.

Manent Isabell and Mortimer.

Enter the young Prince, and the Earl of Kent talking with him.

Mortimer Junior:Finely dissembled, do so still sweet Queen, Here comes the young prince, with the Earl of Kent.

Queen:Something he whispers in his childish ears.

Mortimer Junior:If he have such access unto the prince, Our plots and stratagems will soon be dashed.

Queen:Use Edmund friendly, as if all were well.

Mortimer Junior:How fares my honorable lord of Kent?

Edmund:In health sweet Mortimer, how fares your grace.

Queen:Well, if my Lord your brother were enlarged.

Edmund:I hear of late he hath deposed himself.

Queen:The more my grief.

Mortimer Junior:And mine.

Edmund:Ah they do dissemble.

Queen:Sweet son come hither, I must talk with thee.

Mortimer Junior:Thou being his uncle, and the next of blood, Do look to be protector over the prince.

Edmund:Not I my lord: who should protect the son, But she that gave him life, I mean the Queen?

King:Mother, persuade me not to wear the crown, Let him be king, I am too young to reign.

Queen:But be content, seeing it his highness’ pleasure.

King:Let me but see him first, and then I will.

Edmund:Ay do sweet Nephew.

Queen:Brother, you know it is impossible.

King:Why, is he dead?

Queen:No, God forbid.

Edmund:I would these words proceeded from your heart.

Mortimer Junior:Inconstant Edmund, dost thou favor him, That wast a cause of his imprisonment?

Edmund:The more cause have I now to make amends.

Mortimer Junior:I tell thee ’tis not meet, that one so false Should come about the person of a prince, My lord, he hath betrayed the king his brother, And therefore trust him not.

King:But he repents, and sorrows for it now.

Queen:Come son, and go with this gentle Lord and me.

King:With you I will, but not with Mortimer.

Mortimer Junior:Why youngling, ’sdain’st thou so of Mortimer? Then I will carry thee by force away.

King:Help uncle Kent, Mortimer will wrong me.

Queen:Brother Edmund, strive not, we are his friends, Isabell is nearer than the earl of Kent.

Edmund:Sister, Edward is my charge, redeem him.

Queen:Edward is my son, and I will keep him.

Edmund:Mortimer shall know that he hath wronged me. Hence will I haste to Killingworth castle, And rescue aged Edward from his foes, To be revenged on Mortimer and thee.

Exeunt omnes.

Enter Matrevis and Gurney with the king.

Matrevis:My lord, be not pensive, we are your friends, Men are ordained to live in misery, Therefore come, dalliance dangereth our lives.

Edward:Friends, whither must unhappy Edward go, Will hateful Mortimer appoint no rest? Must I be vexed like the nightly bird, Whose sight is loathsome to all winged fowls? When will the fury of his mind assuage? When will his heart be satisfied with blood? If mine will serve, unbowel straight this breast, And give my heart to Isabell and him, It is the chiefest mark they level at.

Gurney:Not so my liege, the Queen hath given this charge, To keep your grace in safety, Your passions make your dolours to increase.

Edward:This usage makes my misery increase. But can my air of life continue long, When all my senses are annoyed with stench? Within a dungeon England’s king is kept, Where I am starved for want of sustenance, My daily diet, is heart breaking sobs, That almost rends the closet of my heart, Thus lives old Edward not relieved by any, And so must die, though pitied by many. O water gentle friends to cool my thirst, And clear my body from foul excrements.

Matrevis:Here’s channel water, as our charge is given, Sit down, for we’ll be Barbers to your grace.

Edward:Traitors away, what will you murder me, Or choke your sovereign with puddle water?

Gurney:No, but wash your face, and shave away your beard, Lest you be known, and so be rescued.

Matrevis:Why strive you thus, your labor is in vain?

Edward:The Wren may strive against the Lion’s strength. But all in vain, so vainly do I strive, To seek for mercy at a tyrant’s hand. [They wash him with puddle water, and shave his beard away.] Immortal powers, that knows the painful cares, That waits upon my poor distressed soul, O level all your looks upon these daring men, That wrongs their liege and sovereign, England’s king, O Gaveston, it is for thee that I am wronged, For me, both thou, and both the Spencers died, And for your sakes, a thousand wrongs I’ll take, The Spencers ghosts, wherever they remain, Wish well to mine, then tush for them I’ll die.

Matrevis:Twixt theirs and yours, shall be no enmity, Come, come, away, now put the torches out, we’ll enter in by darkness to Killingworth.

Enter Edmund.

Gurney:How now, who comes there?

Matrevis:Guard the king sure, it is the earl of Kent.

Edward:O gentle brother, help to rescue me.

Matrevis:Keep them asunder, thrust in the king.

Edmund:Soldiers, let me but talk to him one word.

Gurney:Lay hands upon the earl for this assault.

Edmund:Lay down your weapons, traitors yield the king.

Matrevis:Edmund, yield thou thyself, or thou shalt die.

Edmund:Base villains, wherefore do you grip me thus?

Gurney:Bind him, and so convey him to the court.

Edmund:Where is the court but here, here is the king, And I will visit him, why stay you me?

Matrevis:The court is where lord Mortimer remains, Thither shall your honor go, and so farewell.

Exeunt Matrevis and Gurney, with the king.

Manent Edmund and the soldiers.

Edmund:O miserable is that commonweal, where lords Keep courts, and kings are locked in prison!

Soldier:Wherefore stay we? on sirs to the court.

Edmund:Ay, load me whither you will, even to my death, Seeing that my brother cannot be released.

Exeunt omnes.

Enter Mortimer alone.

Mortimer Junior:The king must die, or Mortimer goes down, The commons now begin to pity him, Yet he that is the cause of Edward’s death, Is sure to pay for it when his son is of age, And therefore will I do it cunningly, This letter written by a friend of ours, Contains his death, yet bids them save his life. Edwardum occidere nolite timere bonum est. Fear not to kill the king ’tis good he die. But read it thus, and that’s another sense: Edwardum occidere nolite timere bonum est. Kill not the king ’tis good to fear the worst. Unpointed as it is, thus shall it go, That being dead, if it chance to be found, Matrevis and the rest may bear the blame, And we be quit that caused it to be done: Within this room is locked the messenger, That shall convey it, and perform the rest, And by a secret token that he bears, Shall he be murdered when the deed is done. Lightborn, come forth, art thou as resolute as thou wast?

Lightborne:What else my lord? and far more resolute.

Mortimer Junior:And hast thou cast how to accomplish it?

Lightborne:Ay, ay, and none shall know which way he died.

Mortimer Junior:But at his looks Lightborne thou wilt relent.

Lightborne:Relent, ha, ha, I use much to relent.

Mortimer Junior:Well, do it bravely, and be secret.

Lightborne:You shall not need to give instructions, ’Tis not the first time I have killed a man, I learned in Naples how to poison flowers, To strangle with a lawn thrust through the throat, To pierce the windpipe with a needle’s point, Or whilst one is asleep, to take a quill And blow a little powder in his ears, Or open his mouth, and pour quick silver down, But yet I have a braver way than these.

Mortimer Junior:what’s that?

Lightborne:Nay, you shall pardon me, none shall know my tricks.

Mortimer Junior:I care not how it is, so it be not spied, Deliver this to Gurney and Matrevis, At every ten miles’ end thou hast a horse. Take this, away, and never see me more.

Lightborne:No.

Mortimer Junior:No, unless thou bring me news of Edward’s death.

Lightborne:That will I quickly do, farewell my lord.

Mortimer Junior:The prince I rule, the queen do I command, And with a lowly congé to the ground, The proudest lords salute me as I pass, I seal, I cancel, I do what I will, Feared am I more than loved, let me be feared, And when I frown, make all the court look pale, I view the prince with Aristarchus’ eyes, Whose looks were as a breeching to a boy, They thrust upon me the Protectorship, And sue to me for that that I desire, While at the council table, grave enough, And not unlike a bashful Puritan, First I complain of imbecility, Saying it is, onus quam gravissimum, Till being interrupted by my friends, Suscepi that provinciam as they term it, And to conclude, I am Protector now, Now is all sure, the Queen and Mortimer Shall rule the realm, the king, and none rule us, Mine enemies will I plague, my friends advance, And what I list command, who dare control, Maior sum quam cvi possit fortuna nocere, And that this be the coronation day, It pleaseth me, and Isabell the Queen, The trumpets sound, I must go take my place.

Enter the young King, Bishop, Champion, Nobles, Queen.

Bishop:Long live king Edward, by the grace of God King of England, and lord of Ireland.

Chamberlain:If any Christian, Heathen, Turk, or Jew, Dares but affirm, that Edward’s not true king. And will avouch his saying with the sword, I am the Champion that will combat him.

Mortimer Junior:None comes, sound trumpets.

King:Champion, here’s to thee.

Queen:Lord Mortimer, now take him to your charge.

Enter Soldiers with the Earl of Kent prisoner.

Mortimer Junior:What traitor have we there with blades and bills?

Soldier:Edmund the Earl of Kent.

King:What hath he done?

Soldier:’A would have taken the king away perforce, As we were bringing him to Killingworth.

Mortimer Junior:Did you attempt his rescue, Edmund speak?

Edmund:Mortimer, I did, he is our king, And thou compel’st this prince to wear the crown.

Mortimer Junior:Strike off his head, he shall have martial law.

Edmund:Strike off my head, base traitor I defy thee.

King:My lord, he is my uncle, and shall live.

Mortimer Junior:My lord, he is your enemy, and shall die.

Edmund:Stay villains.

King:Sweet mother, if I cannot pardon him, Entreat my lord Protector for his life.

Queen:Son, be content, I dare not speak a word.

King:Nor I, and yet methinks I should command, But seeing I cannot, I’ll entreat for him: My lord, if you will let my uncle live, I will requite it when I come to age.

Mortimer Junior:’Tis for your highness’ good, and for the realm’s, How often shall I bid you bear him hence?

Edmund:Art thou king, must I die at thy command?

Mortimer Junior:At our command, once more away with him.

Edmund:Let me but stay and speak, I will not go, Either my brother or his son is king, And none of both, then thirst for Edmund’s blood, And therefore soldiers whither will you hale me?

They hale Edmund away, and carry him to be beheaded.

King:What safety may I look for at his hands, If that my Uncle shall be murdered thus?

Queen:Fear not sweet boy, I’ll guard thee from thy foes, Had Edmund lived, he would have sought thy death, Come son, we’ll ride a hunting in the park.

King:And shall my Uncle Edmund ride with us?

Queen:He is a traitor, think not on him, come.

Exeunt omnes.

Enter Matrevis and Gurney.

Matrevis:Gurney, I wonder the king dies not, Being in a vault up to the knees in water, To which the channels of the castle run, From whence a damp continually ariseth, That were enough to poison any man, Much more a king brought up so tenderly.

Gurney:And so do I, Matrevis: yesternight I opened but the door to throw him meat, And I was almost stifled with the savor.

Matrevis:He hath a body able to endure, More than we can inflict, and therefore now, Let us assail his mind another while.

Gurney:Send for him out thence, and I will anger him.

Matrevis:But stay, who’s this?

Enter Lightborne.

Lightborne:My lord protector greets you.

Gurney:What’s here? I know not how to construe it.

Matrevis:Gurney, it was left unpointed for the nonce, Edwardum occidere nolite timere, That’s his meaning.

Lightborne:Know you this token, I must have the king?

Matrevis:Ay stay a while, thou shalt have answer straight. This villain’s sent to make away the king.

Gurney:I thought as much.

Matrevis:And when the murder’s done, See how he must be handled for his labor, Pereat iste: let him have the king, What else, here is the keys, this is the lake, Do as you are commanded by my lord.

Lightborne:I know what I must do, get you away, Yet be not far off, I shall need your help, See that in the next room I have a fire, And get me a spit, and let it be red hot.

Matrevis:Very well.

Gurney:Need you any thing besides?

Lightborne:What else, a table and a featherbed.

Gurney:That’s all.

Lightborne:Ay, ay, so when I call you, bring it in.

Matrevis:Fear not you that.

Gurney:here’s a light to go into the dungeon.

Lightborne:So now must I about this gear, ne’er was there any So finely handled as this king shall be, Foh, here’s a place in deed with all my heart.

Edward:Who’s there, what light is that, wherefore comes thou?

Lightborne:To comfort you, and bring you joyful news.

Edward:Small comfort finds poor Edward in thy looks, Villain, I know thou com’st to murder me.

Lightborne:To murder you my most gracious lord, Far is it from my heart to do you harm, The Queen sent me, to see how you were used, For she relents at this your misery. And what eyes can refrain from shedding tears, To see a king in this most piteous state?

Edward:Weepest thou already, list a while to me, And then thy heart, were it as Gurney’s is, Or as Matrevis, hewn from the Caucasus, Yet will it melt, ere I have done my tale, This dungeon where they keep me, is the sink, Wherein the filth of all the castle falls.

Lightborne:O villains!

Edward:And there in mire and puddle have I stood, This ten days’ space, and lest that I should sleep, One plays continually upon a Drum, They give me bread and water being a king, So that for want of sleep and sustenance, My mind’s distempered, and my body’s numbed, And whether I have limbs or no, I know not, O would my blood dropped out from every vain, As doth this water from my tattered robes: Tell Isabell the Queen, I looked not thus, When for her sake I ran at tilt in France, And there unhorsed the duke of Cleremont.

Lightborne:O speak no more my lord, this breaks my heart. Lie on this bed, and rest yourself a while,

Edward:These looks of thine can harbor naught but death. I see my tragedy written in thy brows, Yet stay a while, forbear thy bloody hand, And let me see the stroke before it comes, That and even then when I shall lose my life, My mind may be more steadfast on my God.

Lightborne:What means your highness to mistrust me thus?

Edward:What means thou to dissemble with me thus?

Lightborne:These hands were never stained with innocent blood, Nor shall they now be tainted with a king’s.

Edward:Forgive my thought, for having such a thought, One jewel have I left, receive thou this, Still fear I, and I know not what’s the cause, But every joint shakes as I give it thee: O if thou harbor’st murder in thy heart, Let this gift change thy mind, and save thy soul, Know that I am a king, oh at that name, I feel a hell of grief, where is my crown? Gone, gone, and do I remain alive?

Lightborne:you’re overwatched my lord, lie down and rest.

Edward:But that grief keeps me waking, I should sleep, For not these ten days have these eyes’ lids closed, Now as I speak they fall, and yet with fear Open again, O wherefore sits thou here?

Lightborne:If you mistrust me, I’ll be gone my lord.

Edward:No, no, for if thou meanst to murder me, Thou wilt return again, and therefore stay.

Lightborne:He sleeps.

Edward:O let me not die, yet stay, O stay a while.

Lightborne:How now my Lord.

Edward:Something still buzzeth in mine ears, And tells me, if I sleep I never wake, This fear is that which makes me tremble thus, And therefore tell me, wherefore art thou come?

Lightborne:To rid thee of thy life, Matrevis come,

Edward:I am too weak and feeble to resist, Assist me sweet God, and receive my soul.

Lightborne:Run for the table.

Edward:O spare me, or dispatch me in a trice.

Lightborne:So, lay the table down, and stamp on it But not too hard, lest that you bruise his body.

Matrevis:I fear me that this cry will raise the town, And therefore let us take horse and away.

Lightborne:Tell me sirs, was it not brave lie done?

Gurney:Excellent well, take this for thy reward, [Then Gurney stabs Lightborne.] Come let us cast the body in the moat, And bear the king’s to Mortimer our lord, away.

Exeunt omnes.

Enter Mortimer and Matrevis.

Mortimer Junior:Is ’t done, Matrevis, and the murderer dead?

Matrevis:Ay my good Lord, I would it were undone.

Mortimer Junior:Matrevis, if thou now growest penitent I’ll be thy ghostly father, therefore choose, Whether thou wilt be secret in this, Or else die by the hand of Mortimer.

Matrevis:Gurney my lord is fled, and will I fear, Betray us both, therefore let me fly.

Mortimer Junior:Fly to the Savages.

Matrevis:I humbly thank your honor.

Mortimer Junior:As for myself, I stand as Jove’s huge tree, And others are but shrubs compared to me, All tremble at my name, and I fear none, let’s see who dare impeach me for his death?

Enter the Queen.

Queen:A Mortimer, the king my son hath news, His father’s dead, and we have murdered him.

Mortimer Junior:What if he have? the king is yet a child.

Queen:Ay, ay, but he tears his hair, and wrings his hands, And vows to be revenged upon us both, Into the council chamber he is gone, To crave the aid and succor of his peers, Aye me, see where he comes, and they with him, Now Mortimer begins our tragedy.

Enter the king, with the lords.

Lords:Fear not my lord, know that you are a king.

King:Villain.

Mortimer Junior:How now my lord?

King:Think not that I am frighted with thy words, My father’s murdered through thy treachery, And thou shalt die, and on his mournful hearse, Thy hateful and accursed head shall lie, To witness to the world, that by thy means, His kingly body was too soon interred.

Queen:Weep not sweet son.

King:Forbid not me to weep, he was my father, And had you loved him half so well as I, You could not bear his death thus patiently, But you I fear, conspired with Mortimer.

Lords:Why speak you not unto my lord the king?

Mortimer Junior:Because I think scorn to be accused, Who is the man dare say I murdered him?

King:Traitor, in me my loving father speaks, And plainly saith, ’twas thou that murdredst him.

Mortimer Junior:But hath your grace no other proof than this?

King:Yes, if this be the hand of Mortimer.

Mortimer Junior:False Gurney hath betrayed me and himself.

Queen:I feared as much, murder cannot be hid.

Mortimer Junior:’Tis my hand, what gather you by this.

Edward:That thither thou didst send a murderer.

Mortimer Junior:What murderer? bring forth the man I sent.

King:A Mortimer, thou knowest that he is slain, And so shalt thou be too: why stays he here? Bring him unto a hurdle, drag him forth, Hang him I say, and set his quarters up, But bring his head back presently to me.

Queen:For my sake sweet son pity Mortimer.

Mortimer Junior:Madam, entreat not, I will rather die, Then sue for life unto a paltry boy.

King:Hence with the traitor, with the murderer.

Mortimer Junior:Base fortune, now I see, that in thy wheel There is a point, to which when men aspire, They tumble headlong down, that point I touched, And seeing there was no place to mount up higher, Why should I grieve at my declining fall, Farewell fair Queen, weep not for Mortimer, That scorns the world, and as a traveler, Goes to discover countries yet unknown.

King:What, suffer you the traitor to delay?

Queen:As thou receivedst thy life from me, Spill not the blood of gentle Mortimer.

King:This argues, that you spilt my father’s blood, Else would you not entreat for Mortimer.

Queen:I spill his blood? no.

King:Ay madam you, for so the rumor runs.

Queen:That rumor is untrue, for loving thee, Is this report raised on poor Isabell.

King:I do not think her so unnatural.

Lords:My lord, I fear me it will prove too true.

King:Mother, you are suspected for his death, And therefore we commit you to the Tower, Till further trial may be made thereof, If you be guilty, though I be your son, Think not to find me slack or pitiful.

Queen:Nay, to my death, for too long have I lived, when as my son thinks to abridge my days.

King:Away with her, her words enforce these tears, And I shall pity her if she speak again.

Queen:Shall I not mourn for my beloved lord? And with the rest accompany him to his grave.

Lords:Thus madam, ’tis the king’s will you shall hence.

Queen:He hath forgotten me, stay, I am his mother.

Lords:That boots not, therefore gentle madam go.

Queen:Then come sweet death, and rid me of this grief.

Lords:My lord, here is the head of Mortimer.

King:Go fetch my father’s hearse, where it shall lie, And bring my funeral robes: accursed head, Could I have ruled thee then, as I do now, Thou hadst not hatched this monstrous treachery? Here comes the hearse, help me to mourn my lords, Sweet father here, unto thy murdered ghost, I offer up this wicked traitor’s head, And let these tears distilling from mine eyes, Be witness of my grief and innocency.