Gav. My lord, I cannot brook these injuries.
Queen. Aye me, poor soul, when these begin to jar. [Aside.
Edw. Return it to their throats, I'll be thy warrant.
Gav. 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.
Lan. Yet I disdain not to do this for you. [Draws.
Edw. Treason! treason! where's the traitor?80
Pem. Here! here! king. [222]
[Edw.] Convey hence Gaveston; they'll murder him.
Gav. The life of thee shall salve this foul disgrace.
Y. Mor. Villain! thy life, unless I miss mine aim. [Offers to stab him.