ACT THE FIRST.
SCENE I.
Enter [163] Gaveston, reading a letter from the King.
Gav. 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 favourite 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 would'st smile, and take me in thine arms. The sight of London to my exiled eyes10 Is as Elysium to a new-come soul; Not that I love the city, or the men, But that it harbours him I hold so dear— The king, upon whose bosom let me die, [164] 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,20 Raked up in embers of their poverty;— Tanti; [165] I'll fawn [166] first on the wind That glanceth at my lips, and flieth away. But how now, what are these?
Enter three poor Men.
Men. Such as desire your worship's service.
Gav. What canst thou do?
1 Man. I can ride.
Gav. But I have no horse. What art thou?
2 Man. A traveller.
Gav. Let me see—thou would'st do well To wait at my trencher and tell me lies at dinner-time;30 And as I like your discoursing, I'll have you. And what art thou?
3 Man. A soldier, that hath served against the Scot.
Gav. Why, there are hospitals for such as you; I have no war, and therefore, sir, begone.
3 Man. Farewell, and perish by a soldier's hand, That would'st reward them with an hospital.
Gav. I, I, these words of his move me as much As if a goose would play the porcupine, And dart her plumes, [167] thinking to pierce my breast.40 But yet it is no pain to speak men fair; I'll flatter these, and make them live in hope. [Aside. 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.
Gav. I have some business. Leave me to myself.
Omnes. We will wait here about the court. [Exeunt.
Gav. Do; these are not men for me; I must have wanton poets, pleasant wits,50 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 silvian [168] nymphs my pages shall be clad; My men, like satyrs grazing on the lawns, Shall with their goat-feet dance the antic hay. [169] Sometime a lovely boy in Dian's shape,60 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 Actæon 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 [170] seem to die;— Such things as these best please his majesty.70 Here comes my lord [171] the king, and [here] the nobles From the parliament. I'll stand aside.
Enter the King, Lancaster,Old Mortimer, Young Mortimer, Edmund, Earl of Kent, Guy, Earl of Warwick, &c.
Edw. Lancaster!
Lan. My lord.
Gav. That Earl of Lancaster do I abhor. [Aside.
Edw. 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.
E. Mor. If you love us, my lord, hate Gaveston.
Gav. That villain Mortimer, I'll be his death! [Aside.
Y. Mor. Mine uncle here, this earl, and I myself,81 Were sworn [172] 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 armour up.
Gav. Mort dieu! [Aside.
Edw. Well, Mortimer, I'll make thee rue these words. Beseems it thee to contradict thy king?91 Frown'st thou thereat, aspiring Lancaster? [173] 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.
Gav. Well done, Ned! [Aside.
Lan. My lord, why do you thus incense your peers, That naturally would love and honour you But for that base and obscure Gaveston?100 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.
Edw. 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 Moubery [174] in presence of the king;110 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 Moubery 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.
War. O, our heads!
Edw. I, yours; and therefore I would wish you grant—
War. Bridle thy anger, gentle Mortimer.120
Y. Mor. 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.
E. Mor. Wiltshire hath men enough to save our heads.
War. All Warwickshire will love [175] him for my sake.
Lan. And northward Gaveston [176] hath many friends. Adieu, my lord; and either change your mind, Or look to see the throne, where you should sit,130 To float in blood; and at thy wanton head, The glozing head of thy base minion thrown. [Exeunt Nobles.
Edw. I cannot brook these haughty menaces; Am I a king, and must be overruled? Brother, display my ensigns in the field; I'll bandy [177] with the barons and the earls, And either die or live with Gaveston.
Gav. I can no longer keep me from my lord. [Comes forward.
Edw. What, Gaveston! welcome.—Kiss not my hand— Embrace me, Gaveston, as I do thee.140 Why should'st thou kneel? know'st thou not who I am? Thy friend, thyself, another Gaveston! Not Hylas was more mourned of [178] Hercules, Than thou hast been of me since thy exile.
Gav. And since I went from hence, no soul in hell Hath felt more torment than poor Gaveston.
Edw. 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;150 And sooner shall the sea o'erwhelm my land, Than 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.
Gav. My lord, these titles far exceed my worth.
Kent. Brother, the least of these may well suffice For one of greater birth than Gaveston.
Edw. Cease, brother: for I cannot brook these words. Thy worth, sweet friend, is far above my gifts,160 Therefore, to equal it, receive my heart; If for these dignities thou be envied, I'll give thee more; for, but to honour thee, Is Edward pleased with kingly regiment. [179] Fear'st thou thy person? thou shalt have a guard. Wantest thou gold? go to my treasury. Wouldst thou be loved and feared? receive my seal; Save or condemn, and in our name command Whatso thy mind affects, or fancy likes.
Gav. It shall suffice me to enjoy your love,170 Which whiles I have, I think myself as great As Cæsar riding in the Roman street, With captive kings at his triumphant car.
Enter the Bishop of Coventry.
Edw. Whither goes my lord of Coventry so fast?
Bish. To celebrate your father's exequies. But is that wicked Gaveston returned?
Edw. I, priest, and lives to be revenged on thee, That wert the only cause of his exile.
Gav. 'Tis true; and but for reverence of these robes, Thou should'st not plod one foot beyond this place.180
Bish. 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.
Gav. Saving your reverence, you must pardon me.
Edw. Throw off his golden mitre, rend his stole, And in the channel [180] christen him anew.
Kent. Ah, brother, lay not violent hands on him, For he'll complain unto the see of Rome.
Gav. Let him complain unto the see of hell,190 I'll be revenged on him for my exile.
Edw. 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.
Gav. He shall to prison, and there die in bolts.
Edw. I, to the Tower, the Fleet, or where thou wilt.
Bish. For this offence, be thou accurst of God!
Edw. Who's there? Convey this priest to the Tower.
Bish. True, true. [181]200
Edw. 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.
Gav. What should a priest do with so fair a house? A prison may best [182] beseem his holiness. [Exeunt.
SCENE II.
Enter [183] both the Mortimers, Warwick, and Lancaster.
War. 'Tis true, the bishop is in the Tower, And goods and body given to Gaveston.
Lan. What! will they tyrannise upon the church? Ah, wicked king! accursed Gaveston! This ground, which is corrupted with their steps, Shall be their timeless [184] sepulchre or mine.
Y. Mor. Well, let that peevish Frenchman guard him sure; Unless his breast be sword-proof he shall die.
E. Mor. How now, why droops the Earl of Lancaster?
Y. Mor. Wherefore is Guy of Warwick discontent?10
Lan. That villain Gaveston is made an earl.
E. Mor. An earl!
War. I, and besides Lord Chamberlain of the realm, And Secretary too, and Lord of Man.
E. Mor. We may not, nor we will not suffer this.
Y. Mor. Why post we not from hence to levy men?
Lan. "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:20 Nay more, the guard upon his lordship waits; And all the court begins to flatter him.
War. Thus leaning on the shoulder of the king, He nods and scorns, and smiles at those that pass.
E. Mor. Doth no man take exceptions at the slave?
Lan. All stomach [185] him, but none dare speak a word.
Y. Mor. Ah, that bewrays their baseness, Lancaster. Were all the earls and barons of my mind, We'd[186] hale him from the bosom of the king, And at the court-gate hang the peasant up;30 Who, swoln with venom of ambitious pride, Will be the ruin of the realm and us.
Enter the Archbishop of Canterbury and a Messenger.
War. Here comes my Lord of Canterbury's grace.
Lan. His countenance bewrays he is displeased.
Archbish. 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. [Exit Messenger.
Lan. My lord, will you take arms against the king?
Archbish. What need I? God himself is up in arms,40 When violence is offered to the church.
Y. Mor. Then will you join with us, that be his peers, To banish or behead that Gaveston?
Archbish. What else, my lords? for it concerns me near;— The bishoprick of Coventry is his.
Enter Queen Isabella.
Y. Mor. Madam, whither walks your majesty so fast?
Queen. Unto the forest, [187] gentle Mortimer, To live in grief and baleful discontent; For now, my lord, the king regards me not, But doats upon the love of Gaveston.50 He claps his cheek, 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."
E. Mor. Is it not strange, that he is thus bewitched?
Y. Mor. 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 too, to be revenged at full.60
Archbish. But yet lift not your swords against the king.
Lan. No; but we will lift Gaveston from hence.
War. And war must be the means, or he'll stay still.
Queen. Then let him stay; for rather than my lord Shall be oppressed with civil mutinies, I will endure a melancholy life, And let him frolic with his minion.
Archbish. My lords, to ease all this, but hear me speak:— We and the rest, that are his counsellors, Will meet, and with a general consent70 Confirm his banishment with our hands and seals.
Lan. What we confirm the king will frustrate.
Y. Mor. Then may we lawfully revolt from him.
War. But say, my lord, where shall this meeting be?
Archbish. At the New Temple.
Y. Mor. Content.
[Archbish.] And, in the meantime, I'll entreat you all To cross to Lambeth, and there stay with me.
Lan. Come then, let's away.
Y. Mor. Madam, farewell!80
Queen. Farewell, sweet Mortimer; and, for my sake, Forbear to levy arms against the king.
Y. Mor. I, if words will serve; if not, I must. [Exeunt.
SCENE III.
Enter [188]Gaveston and the Earl of Kent.
Gav. 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 toward Lambeth—there let them remain. [Exeunt.
SCENE IV.
Enter [189]Nobles and the Archbishop of Canterbury.
Lan. Here is the form of Gaveston's exile: May it please your lordship to subscribe your name.
Archbish. Give me the paper. [He subscribes, as the others do after him.
Lan. Quick, quick, my lord; I long to write my name.
War. But I long more to see him banished hence.
Y. Mor. The name of Mortimer shall fright the king, Unless he be declined from that base peasant.
Enter the King, Gaveston, and Kent.
Edw. What, are you moved that Gaveston sits here? It is our pleasure, and we will have it so.
Lan. Your grace doth well to place him by your side,10 For nowhere else the new earl is so safe.
E. Mor. What man of noble birth can brook this sight? Quam male conveniunt! [190] See what a scornful look the peasant casts!
Pem. Can kingly lions fawn on creeping ants?
War. Ignoble vassal, that like Phaeton Aspir'st unto the guidance of the sun.
Y. Mor. Their downfall is at hand, their forces down: We will not thus be faced and over-peered.
Edw. Lay hands on [191] that traitor Mortimer!20
E. Mor. Lay hands on that traitor Gaveston!
Kent. Is this the duty that you owe your king?
War. We know our duties—let him know his peers.
Edw. Whither will you bear him? Stay, or ye shall die.
E. Mor. We are no traitors; therefore threaten not.
Gav. No, threaten not, my lord, but pay them home! Were I a king——
Y. Mor. Thou villain, wherefore talk'st thou of a king, That hardly art a gentleman by birth?
Edw. Were he a peasant, being my minion,30 I'll make the proudest of you stoop to him.
Lan. My lord, you may not thus disparage us. Away, I say, with hateful Gaveston.
E. Mor. And with the Earl of Kent that favours him. [Attendants remove Kent and Gaveston.
Edw. 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 over-ruled as I?
Lan. Learn then to rule us better, and the realm.
Y. Mor. What we have done, our heart-blood shall maintain.40
War. Think you that we can brook this upstart pride?
Edw. Anger and wrathful fury stops my speech.
Archbish. Why are you moved? be patient, my lord, And see what we your counsellors have done.
Y. Mor. My lords, now let us all be resolute, And either have our wills or lose our lives.
Edw. Meet you for this? proud overbearing peers! Ere my sweet Gaveston shall part from me, This isle shall fleet [192] upon the ocean, And wander to the unfrequented Inde.50
Archbish. 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.
Y. Mor. Curse him, if he refuse; and then may we Depose him and elect another king.
Edw. I, there it goes—but yet I will not yield: Curse me, depose me, do the worst you can.
Lan. Then linger not, my lord, but do it straight.
Archbish. Remember how the bishop was abused! Either banish him that was the cause thereof,60 Or I will presently discharge these lords [193] Of duty and allegiance due to thee.
Edw. It boots me not to threat—I must speak fair: [Aside. The legate of the pope will be obeyed. My lord, you shall be Chancellor of the realm; Thou, Lancaster, High Admiral of the 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,70 And share it equally amongst you all, So I may have some nook or corner left, To frolic with my dearest Gaveston.
Archbish. Nothing shall alter us—we are resolved.
Lan. Come, come, subscribe.
Y. Mor. Why should you love him whom the world hates so?
Edw. 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 [194] noble born should pity him.80
War. You that are princely born should shake him off: For shame subscribe, and let the lown [195] depart.
Archbish. Are you content to banish him the realm?
Edw. I see I must, and therefore am content: Instead of ink I'll write it with my tears. [Subscribes.
Y. Mor. The king is love-sick for his minion.
Edw. 'Tis done—and now, accursed hand, fall off!
Lan. Give it me—I'll have it published in the streets.
Y. Mor. I'll see him presently despatched away.90
Archbish. Now is my heart at ease.
War. And so is mine.
Pem. This will be good news to the common sort.
E. Mor. Be it or no, he shall not linger here. [Exeunt Nobles.
Edw. 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 [196] these thy superstitious taper-lights, Wherewith thy antichristian churches blaze, I'll fire thy crazèd buildings, and enforce100 The papal towers to kiss the lowly ground! [197] With slaughtered priests make [198] Tiber's channel swell, And banks raised higher with their sepulchres! As for the peers, that back the clergy thus, If I be king, not one of them shall live.
Enter Gaveston.
Gav. My lord, I hear it whispered everywhere, That I am banished, and must fly the land.
Edw. '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.110 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.
Gav. Is all my hope turned to this hell of grief?
Edw. Rend not my heart with thy too-piercing words: Thou from this land, I from myself am banished.
Gav. To go from hence grieves not poor Gaveston; But to forsake you, in whose gracious looks120 The blessedness of Gaveston remains: For nowhere else seeks he felicity.
Edw. 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; [They exchange pictures. O, might I keep thee here as I do this, Happy were I! but now most miserable!
Gav. 'Tis something to be pitied of a king.130
Edw. Thou shalt not hence—I'll hide thee, Gaveston.
Gav. I shall be found, and then 'twill grieve me more.
Edw. Kind words, and mutual talk makes our grief greater: Therefore, with dumb embracement, let us part— Stay, Gaveston, I cannot leave thee thus.
Gav. For every look, my lord [199] drops down a tear: Seeing I must go, do not renew my sorrow.
Edw. 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.140
Gav. The peers will frown.
Edw. I pass [200] not for their anger—Come, let's go; O that we might as well return as go.
Enter Kent [201] and Queen Isabel.
Queen. Whither goes my lord?
Edw. Fawn not on me, French strumpet! get thee gone.
Queen. On whom but on my husband should I fawn?
Gav. 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 corrupt'st my lord,150 And art a bawd to his affections, But thou must call mine honour thus in question?
Gav. I mean not so; your grace must pardon me.
Edw. 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.
Edw. Away then! touch me not—Come, Gaveston.
Queen. Villain! 'tis thou that robb'st me of my lord.160
Gav. Madam, 'tis you that rob me of my lord.
Edw. 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 Isabel.
Edw. 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 distressèd queen!170 Would, when I left sweet France and was embarked, That charming Circe [202] walking on the waves, Had changed my shape, or at [203] 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 doated Jove on Ganymede180 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 doat on Gaveston: And so am I for ever miserable.
Enter the Nobles.
Lan. Look where the sister of the king of France Sits wringing of her hands, and beats her breast!
War. The king, I fear, hath ill-entreated her.
Pem. Hard is the heart that injuries [204] such a saint.190
Y. Mor. I know 'tis 'long of Gavestone she weeps.
E. Mor. Why, he is gone.
Y. Mor. Madam, how fares your grace?
Queen. Ah, Mortimer! now breaks the king's hate forth, And he confesseth that he loves me not.
Y. Mor. 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.
Lan. Fear ye not, madam; now his minion's gone, His wanton humour will be quickly left.
Queen. O never, Lancaster! I am enjoined200 To sue upon you all for his repeal; This wills my lord, and this must I perform, Or else be banished from his highness' presence.
Lan. For his repeal, madam! he comes not back, Unless the sea cast up his shipwrecked body.
War. And to behold so sweet a sight as that, There's none here but would run his horse to death.
Y. Mor. But, madam, would you have us call him home?
Queen. I, Mortimer, for till he be restored, The angry king hath banished me the court;210 And, therefore, as thou lov'st and tender'st me, Be thou my advocate upon the peers.
Y. Mor. What! would you have me plead for Gaveston?
E. Mor. Plead for him that will, I am resolved.
Lan. 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.
War. Then speak not for him, let the peasant go.
Queen. 'Tis for myself I speak, and not for him.
Pem. No speaking will prevail, [205] and therefore cease.220
Y. Mor. 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 awhile, And I will tell thee reasons of such weight As thou wilt soon subscribe to his repeal.
Y. Mor. It is impossible; but speak your mind.
Queen. Then thus, but none shall hear it but ourselves. [Talks to Y. Mor. apart.
Lan. My lords, albeit the queen win Mortimer,230 Will you be resolute, and hold with me?
E. Mor. Not I, against my nephew.
Pem. Fear not, the queen's words cannot alter him.
War. No, do but mark how earnestly she pleads.
Lan. And see how coldly his looks make denial.
War. She smiles; now for my life his mind is changed.
Lan. I'll rather lose his friendship, I, than grant.
Y. Mor. Well, of necessity it must be so. My lords, that I abhor base Gaveston, I hope your honours take no question,240 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.
Lan. Fie, Mortimer, dishonour 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.
Y. Mor. My lord of Lancaster, mark the respect. [206]
Lan. In no respect can contraries be true.
Queen. Yet, good my lord, here what he can allege.250
War. All that he speaks is nothing, we are resolved.
Y. Mor. Do you not wish that Gaveston were dead?
Pem. I would he were.
Y. Mor. Why then, my lord, give me but leave to speak
E. Mor. But, nephew, do not play the sophister.
Y. Mor. 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?260 And whereas he shall live and be beloved, 'Tis hard for us to work his overthrow.
War. Mark you but that, my lord of Lancaster.
Y. Mor. 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?270
Pem. He saith true.
Lan. I, but how chance this was not done before?
Y. Mor. 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 [207] the top-flag of his pride, And fear to offend the meanest nobleman.
E. Mor. But how if he do not, nephew?
Y. Mor. Then may we with some colour rise in arms? For howsoever we have borne it out,280 'Tis treason to be up against the king; So we shall 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,290 Think me as base a groom as Gaveston.
Lan. On that condition, Lancaster will grant.
War. And so will Pembroke and I.
E. Mor. And I.
Y. Mor. In this I count me highly gratified, And Mortimer will rest at your command.
Queen. And when this favour Isabel 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,300 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.
Edw. He's gone, and for his absence thus I mourn. Did ever 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.310
Queen. Hark! how he harps upon his minion.
Edw. 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 struck me dead, When I was forced to leave my Gaveston!
Lan. Diablo! what passions call you these?
Queen. My gracious lord, I come to bring you news.320
Edw. That you have parled with your Mortimer?
Queen. That Gaveston, my lord, shall be repealed.
Edw. Repealed! the news is too sweet to be true!
Queen. But will you love me, if you find it so?
Edw. If it be so, what will not Edward do?
Queen. For Gaveston, but not for Isabel.
Edw. For thee, fair queen, if thou lov'st 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 neck330 Than these, my lord; nor let me have more wealth Than I may fetch from this rich treasury— O how a kiss revives poor Isabel!
Edw. 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.
Edw. Courageous Lancaster, embrace thy king;340 And, as gross vapours perish by the sun, Even so let hatred with thy sovereign's [208] smile. Live thou with me as my companion.
Lan. This salutation overjoys my heart.
Edw. Warwick shall be my chiefest counsellor: These silver hairs will more adorn my court Than gaudy silks, or rich embroidery. Chide me, sweet Warwick, if I go astray.
War. Slay me, my lord, when I offend your grace.
Edw. In solemn triumphs, and in public shows,350 Pembroke shall bear the sword before the king.
Pem. And with this sword Pembroke will fight for you.
Edw. 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.
Y. Mor. My lord, I'll marshal so your enemies, As England shall be quiet, and you safe.
Edw. And as for you, Lord Mortimer of Chirke, Whose great achievements in our foreign war360 Deserves no common place, nor mean reward; Be you the general of the levied troops, That now are ready to assail the Scots.
E. Mor. In this your grace hath highly honoured me, For with my nature war doth best agree.
Queen. Now is the king of England rich and strong, Having the love of his renownéd peers.
Edw. I, Isabel, ne'er was my heart so light. Clerk of the crown, direct our warrant forth For Gaveston to Ireland: [Enter Beaumont with warrant.] Beaumont, fly,370 As fast as Iris, or Jove's Mercury.
Bea. It shall be done, my gracious lord.
Edw. 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 solemnised. For wot you not that I have made him sure [209] Unto our cousin, the earl of Gloucester's heir?
Lan. Such news we hear, my lord.380
Edw. 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.
War. In this, or aught your highness shall command us.
Edw. Thanks, gentle Warwick: come, let's in and revel. [Exeunt. Manent the Mortimers.
E. Mor. Nephew, I must to Scotland; thou stayest here. Leave now t'oppose thyself against the king. Thou seest by nature he is mild and calm, And, seeing his mind so doats on Gaveston, Let him without controulment have his will.390 The mightiest kings have had their minions: Great Alexander loved Hephestion; The conquering Hercules [210] for his Hylas wept; And for Patroclus stern Achilles drooped. And not kings only, but the wisest men: The Roman Tully loved Octavius; 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;400 For riper years will wean him from such toys.
Y. Mor. Uncle, his wanton humour grieves not me; But this I scorn, that one so basely born Should by his sovereign's favour 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, [211] And Midas-like, he jets it in the court, With base outlandish cullions [212] at his heels, Whose proud fantastic liveries make such show,410 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. While other [213] 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 makes me impatient.419
E. Mor. But, nephew, now you see the king is changed.
Y. Mor. Then so am I, and live to do him service: But whilst 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.