ACT THE FOURTH.
SCENE I.
Enter [273] Kent.
Kent. 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 wrongèd queen, And certify what Edward's looseness is. Unnatural king! to slaughter noblemen And cherish flatterers! Mortimer, I stay Thy sweet escape; stand gracious, gloomy night,10 To his device.
Enter Young Mortimer, disguised.
Y. Mor. Holla! who walketh there? Is't you, my lord?
Kent. Mortimer, 'tis I; But hath thy portion wrought so happily?
Y. Mor. 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?
Kent. Fear it not. [Exeunt.
SCENE II.
Enter [274] the Queen and her Son.
Queen. Ah, boy! our friends do fail us all in France: The lords are cruel, and the king unkind; What shall we do? [275]
Prince. 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; He loves me better than a thousand Spencers.
Queen. Ah, boy, thou art deceived, at least in this, To think that we can yet be tuned together; No, no, we jar too far. Unkind Valois!10 Unhappy Isabel! when France rejects, Whither, oh! whither dost thou bend thy steps?
Enter Sir John of Hainault.
Sir J. Madam, what cheer?
Queen. Ah! good Sir John of Hainault, Never so cheerless, nor so far distrest.
Sir J. 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?20
Prince. So pleaseth [276] 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 J. Well said, my lord.
Queen. O, 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 [277] the shore of Tanais,30 We will 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 Kent and Young Mortimer.
Kent. 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.
Y. Mor. Lady, the last was truest of the twain: But Mortimer, reserved for better hap,40 Hath shaken off the thraldom of the Tower, And lives t' advance your standard, good my lord.
Prince. 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.
Y. Mor. 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 room50 Where weapons want; and, though so many friends Are made away, as Warwick, Lancaster, And others of our party [278] 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 [279] for our foes.
Kent. Would all were well, and Edward well reclaimed, For England's honour, peace, and quietness.
Y. Mor. But by the sword, my lord, 't must be deserved; [280] The king will ne'er forsake his flatterers.60
Sir J. My lords of England, sith th' ungentle king Of France refuseth to give aid of arms To this distressèd 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. [281] How say, young prince? what think you of the match?
Prince. I think King Edward will outrun us all.
Queen. Nay, son, not so; and you must not discourage Your friends, that are so forward in your aid.70
Kent. Sir John of Hainault, pardon us, I pray; These comforts that you give our woful 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.
Y. Mor. 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.80
Sir. J. Madam, along, and you my lord, with me, That England's peers may Hainault's welcome see. [Exeunt.
SCENE III.
Enter [282] the King, Arundel,[283] the two Spencers, with others.
Edw. 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?
Y. Spen. What news, my lord?
Edw. Why, man, they say there is great execution Done through the realm; my lord of Arundel, You have the note, have you not?
Arun. [284] From the lieutenant of the Tower, my lord.
Edw. I pray let us see it. What have we there?10 Read it, Spencer. [Spencer reads their names. Why so; they barked apace a month[285] 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 Isabella [286] gets no aid from thence. What now remains; have you proclaimed, my lord, Reward for them can bring in Mortimer?
Y. Spen. My lord, we have; and if he be in England, 'A will be had ere long, I doubt it not.20
Edw. If, dost thou say? Spencer, as true as death, He is in England's ground; our portmasters Are not so careless of their king's command.
Enter a Messenger.
How now, what news with thee? from whence come these?
Mes. Letters, my lord, and tidings forth of France, To you, my lord of Gloucester, from Levune.
Edw. Read. [Spencer reads the letter.]
"My duty to your honour premised, &c., 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 honour's in all service, Levune."
Edw. Ah, 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;40 England shall welcome you and all your rout. Gallop apace [287] bright Phœbus, through the sky, And dusky night, in rusty iron car, Between you both shorten the time, I pray, That I may see that most desirèd day, When we may meet those traitors in the field. Ah, nothing grieves me, but my little boy Is thus misled to countenance their ills. Come, friends, to Bristow, there to make us strong; And, winds, as equal be to bring them in,50 As you injurious were to bear them forth! [Exeunt.
SCENE IV.
Enter [288] the Queen, her Son, Kent, Mortimer, and Sir John Hainault.
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 make kin and countrymen Slaughter themselves in others, and their sides With their own weapons gored! But what's the help? Misgoverned kings are cause of all this wreck; And, Edward, thou art one among them all,10 Whose looseness hath betrayed thy land to spoil, Who made the channel [289] overflow with blood Of thine own people; patron shouldst thou be, But thou——
Y. Mor. Nay, madam, if you be a warrior, You must not grow so passionate in speeches. Lords, Sith that we are by sufferance of heaven Arrived, and armèd in this prince's right, Here for our country's cause swear we to him20 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 wreak it with the sword; That England's queen in peace may repossess Her dignities and honours: and withal We may remove these flatterers from the king, That havoc England's wealth and treasury.
Sir. J. Sound trumpets, my lord, and forward let us march. Edward will think we come to flatter him.30
Kent. I would he never had been flattered more! [Exeunt.
SCENE V.
Enter [290] the King, Baldock, and Young Spencer, flying about the stage.
Y. Spen. Fly, fly, my lord! the queen is over-strong; Her friends do multiply, and yours do fail. Shape we our course to Ireland, there to breathe.
Edw. What! was I born to fly and run away, And leave the Mortimers conquerors behind? Give me my horse, and let's re'nforce our troops: And in this bed of honour die with fame.
Bald. O no, my lord, this princely resolution Fits not the time; away, we are pursued. [Exeunt.
Enter Kent alone, with his sword and target.
Kent. This way he fled, but I am come too late.10 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 cursèd 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,20 Dissemble, or thou diest; for Mortimer And Isabel 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; Bristow to Longshanks' blood Is false; be not found single for suspect: Proud Mortimer pries near unto thy walks.
Enter the Queen, Mortimer, the Young Prince, and Sir John of Hainault.
Queen. Successful [291] battle gives the God of kings To them that fight in right, and fear his wrath. Since then successfully we have prevailed,30 Thankèd be heaven's great architect, and you. Ere farther we proceed, my noble lords, We here create our well-belovèd 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.
Kent. Madam, without offence, if I may ask, How will you deal with Edward in his fall?40
Prince. Tell me, good uncle, what Edward do you mean?
Kent. Nephew, your father: I dare not call him king.
Mor. 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 disposèd of.— I like not this relenting mood in Edmund. Madam, 'tis good to look to him betimes. [Aside to the Queen.
Queen. My lord, the Mayor of Bristow knows our mind.
Y. Mor. Yea, madam, and they scape not easily50 That fled the field.
Queen. Baldock is with the king. A goodly chancellor, is he not, my lord?
Sir J. So are the Spencers, the father and the son.
Kent. [292] This Edward is the ruin of the realm.
Enter Rice ap Howell, and the Mayor of Bristow, with Old Spencer prisoner.
Rice. God save queen Isabel, and her princely son! Madam, the mayor and citizens of Bristow, 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,60 Revelled in England's wealth and treasury.
Queen. We thank you all.
Y. Mor. Your loving care in this Deserveth princely favours 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.
Y. Mor. Some whirlwind fetch them back or sink them all! [Aside. They shall be started thence, I doubt it not.
Prince. Shall I not see the king my father yet?70
Kent. Unhappy 's Edward, chased from England's bounds. [Aside.
Sir. J. Madam, what resteth, why stand you in a muse?
Queen. I rue my lord's ill-fortune; but alas! Care of my country called me to this war.
Y. Mor. Madam, have done with care and sad complaint; 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.
O. Spen. Rebel is he that fights against the prince; So fought not they that fought in Edward's right.80
Y. Mor. 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.
SCENE VI.
Enter [293] the Abbot, Monks, Edward, Young Spencer, and Baldock.
Abbot. Have you no doubt, my lord; have you no fear; As silent and as careful we will 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.
Edw. Father, thy face should harbour no deceit. O! hadst thou ever been a king, thy heart, Pierced deeply with [a] sense of my distress,10 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 [294] philosophy, That in our famous nurseries of arts Thou suck'dst from Plato and from Aristotle. Father, this life contemplative is heaven.20 O that I might this life in quiet lead! But we, alas! are chased; and you, my friends, Your lives and my dishonour they pursue. Yet, gentle monks, for treasure, gold nor fee, Do you betray us and our company.
Monk. Your grace may sit secure, if none but we Do wot of your abode.
Y. Spen. Not one alive, but shrewdly I suspect A gloomy fellow in a mead below. 'A gave a long look after us, my lord,30 And all the land I know is up in arms, Arms that pursue our lives with deadly hate.
Bald. We were embarked for Ireland, wretched we! With awkward winds and sore [295] tempests driven To fall on shore, and here to pine in fear Of Mortimer and his confederates.
Edw. 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.40 O might I never ope [296] these eyes again! Never again lift up this drooping head! O never more lift up this dying heart!
Y. Spen. 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.
Mow. Upon my life, these be the men ye seek.
Rice. Fellow, enough.—My lord, I pray be short, A fair commission warrants what we do.
Leices. The queen's commission, urged by Mortimer; What cannot gallant Mortimer with the queen?50 Alas! see where he sits, and hopes unseen To escape their hands that seek to reave his life. Too true it is, Quem [297] dies vidit veniens superbum, Hunc dies vidit fugiens jacentem. But, Leicester, leave to grow so passionate. Spencer and Baldock, by no other names. I [do] arrest you of high treason here. Stand not on titles, but obey th' arrest; 'Tis in the name of Isabel the queen. My lord, why droop you thus?60
Edw. O day the last of all my bliss on earth! Centre of all misfortune! O my stars, Why do you lour unkindly on a king? Come 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!
Y. Spen. It may become thee yet To let us take our farewell of his grace.
Abbot. My heart with pity earns [298] to see this sight,70 A king to bear these words and proud commands.
Edw. Spencer, ah, sweet Spencer, thus then must we part?
Y. Spen. We must, my lord, so will the angry heavens.
Edw. Nay, so will hell and cruel Mortimer; The gentle heavens have not to do in this.
Bald. 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.
Edw. In heaven we may, in earth ne'er shall we meet: And, Leicester, say, what shall become of us?80
Leices. Your majesty must go to Killingworth.
Edw. Must! it is somewhat hard, when kings must go.
Leices. 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.
Edw. 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 friend hath Edward none, but these and these: [299]90 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.
Edw. Well, that shall be, shall be: part we must! Sweet Spencer, gentle Baldock, part we must! Hence feignèd weeds! unfeignèd are my woes; [Casts off his disguise. Father, farewell! Leicester, thou stay'st for me, And go I must. Life, farewell, with my friends. [Exeunt Edward and Leicester.
Y. Spen. O! is he gone? is noble Edward gone? Parted from hence? never to see us more?100 Rent, sphere of heaven! and, fire, forsake thy orb! Earth, melt to air! gone is my sovereign, Gone, gone, alas! never to make return.
Bald. Spencer, I see our souls are fleeting hence; We are deprived the sunshine of our life: Make for a new life, man; throw up thy eyes, And heart and hands 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;110 Spencer, all live to die, and rise to fall.
Rice. [300] 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?
Mow. Your Lordship, I trust, will remember me?
Rice. Remember thee? Fellow, what else? Follow me to the town. [Exeunt.