Chapter 3
_Y. Mor._ Letters! from whence? _Mes._ From Scotland, my lord. [_Giving letters to Mortimer._ _Lan._ Why, how now, cousin! how fare all our friends? _Y. Mor._ My uncle's taken prisoner by the Scots. _Lan._ We'll have him ransom'd, man: be of good cheer. _Y. Mor._ 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. _Lan._ Do, cousin, and I'll bear thee company. _War._ Meantime my Lord of Pembroke and myself Will to Newcastle here, and gather head. _Y. Mor._ About it, then, and we will follow you. _Lan._ Be resolute and full of secrecy. _War._ I warrant you. [_Exit with Pembroke._ _Y. Mor._ Cousin, an if he will not ransom him, I'll thunder such a peal into his ears As never subject did unto his king. _Lan._ Content; I'll bear my part.--Hollo! who's there?
_Enter_ Guard.
_Y. Mor._ Ay, marry, such a guard as this doth well. _Lan._ Lead on the way. _Guard._ Whither will your lordships? _Y. Mor._ Whither else but to the king? _Guard._ His highness is dispos'd to be alone. _Lan._ Why, so he may; but we will speak to him. _Guard._ You may not in, my lord. _Y. Mor._ May we not?
_Enter_ KING EDWARD _and_ KENT.
_K. Edw._ How now! What noise is this? who have we here? is't you? [_Going._ _Y. Mor._ Nay, stay, my lord; I come to bring you news; Mine uncle's taken prisoner by the Scots. _K. Edw._ Then ransom him. _Lan._ 'Twas in your wars; you should ransom him. _Y. Mor._ And you will ransom him, or else-- _Kent._ What, Mortimer, you will not threaten him? _K. Edw._ Quiet yourself; you shall have the broad seal, To gather for him th[o]roughout the realm. _Lan._ Your minion Gaveston hath taught you this. _Y. Mor._ My lord, the family of the Mortimers Are not so poor, but, would they sell their land, 'Twould levy men enough to anger you. We never beg, but use such prayers as these. _K. Edw._ Shall I still be haunted thus? _Y. Mor._ Nay, now you are here alone, I'll speak my mind. _Lan._ And so will I; and then, my lord, farewell. _Y. Mor._ The idle triumphs, masks, lascivious shows, And prodigal gifts bestow'd on Gaveston, Have drawn thy treasury dry, and made thee weak; The murmuring commons, overstretched, break. _Lan._ Look for rebellion, look to be depos'd: Thy garrisons are beaten out of France, And, lame and poor, lie groaning at the gates; The wild Oneil, with swarms of Irish kerns, Lives uncontroll'd within the English pale; Unto the walls of York the Scots make road, And, unresisted, drive away rich spoils. _Y. Mor._ The haughty Dane commands the narrow seas, While in the harbour ride thy ships unrigg'd. _Lan._ What foreign prince sends thee ambassadors? _Y. Mor._ Who loves thee, but a sort of flatterers? _Lan._ Thy gentle queen, sole sister to Valois, Complains that thou hast left her all forlorn. _Y. Mor._ Thy court is naked, being bereft of those That make a king seem glorious to the world, I mean the peers, whom thou shouldst dearly love; Libels are cast against thee in the street; Ballads and rhymes made of thy overthrow. _Lan._ The northern borderers, seeing their houses burnt, Their wives and children slain, run up and down, Cursing the name of thee and Gaveston. _Y. Mor._ When wert thou in the field with banner spread, But once? and then thy soldiers march'd like players, With garish robes, not armour; and thyself, Bedaub'd with gold, rode laughing at the rest, Nodding and shaking of thy spangled crest, Where women's favours hung like labels down. _Lan._ 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 rombelow!_ _Y. Mor._ Wigmore shall fly, to set my uncle free. _Lan._ And, when 'tis gone, our swords shall purchase more. If you be mov'd, revenge it as you can: Look next to see us with our ensigns spread. [_Exit with Y. Mortimer._ _K. Edw._ My swelling heart for very anger breaks: How oft have I been baited by these peers, And dare not be reveng'd, for their power is great! Yet, shall the crowning of these cockerels Affright a lion? Edward, unfold thy paws, And let their lives'-blood slake thy fury's hunger. If I be cruel and grow tyrannous, Now let them thank themselves, and rue too late. _Kent._ 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. _K. Edw._ Art thou an enemy to my Gaveston? _Kent._ Ay; and it grieves me that I favour'd him. _K. Edw._ Traitor, be gone! whine thou with Mortimer. _Kent._ So will I, rather than with Gaveston. _K. Edw._ Out of my sight, and trouble me no more! _Kent._ No marvel though thou scorn thy noble peers, When I thy brother am rejected thus. _K. Edw._ Away! [_Exit Kent._ Poor Gaveston, thou hast no friend but me! Do what they can, we'll live in Tynmouth here; And, so I walk with him about the walls, What care I though the earls begirt us round? Here comes she that is cause of all these jars.
_Enter_ QUEEN ISABELLA, _with_ EDWARD'S NIECE, _two_ Ladies, GAVESTON, BALDOCK, _and the younger_ SPENSER.
_Q. Isab._ My lord, 'tis thought the earls are up in arms. _K. Edw._ Ay, and 'tis likewise thought you favour 'em. _Q. Isab._ Thus do you still suspect me without cause. _Niece._ Sweet uncle, speak more kindly to the queen. _Gav._ My lord, dissemble with her; speak her fair. _K. Edw._ Pardon me, sweet; I forgot myself. _Q. Isab._ Your pardon is quickly got of Isabel. _K. Edw._ The younger Mortimer is grown so brave, That to my face he threatens civil wars. _Gav._ Why do you not commit him to the Tower? _K. Edw._ I dare not, for the people love him well. _Gav._ Why, then, we'll have him privily made away. _K. Edw._ Would Lancaster and he had both carous'd A bowl of poison to each other's health! But let them go, and tell me what are these. _Niece._ Two of my father's servants whilst he liv'd: May't please your grace to entertain them now. _K. Edw._ Tell me, where wast thou born? what is thine arms? _Bald._ My name is Baldock, and my gentry I fetch from Oxford, not from heraldry. _K. Edw._ The fitter art thou, Baldock, for my turn. Wait on me, and I'll see thou shalt not want. _Bald._ I humbly thank your majesty. _K. Edw._ Knowest thou him, Gaveston. _Gav._ Ay, my lord; His name is Spenser; he is well allied: For my sake let him wait upon your grace; Scarce shall you find a man of more desert. _K. Edw._ Then, Spenser, wait upon me for his sake: I'll grace thee with a higher style ere long. _Y. Spen._ No greater titles happen unto me Than to be favour'd of your majesty! _K. Edw._ 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 Glocester late deceas'd. _Gav._ I know, my lord, many will stomach me; But I respect neither their love nor hate. _K. Edw._ The headstrong barons shall not limit me; He that I list to favour shall be great. Come, let's away; and, when the marriage ends, Have at the rebels and their complices! [_Exeunt._
_Enter_ KENT, LANCASTER, _the younger_ MORTIMER, WARWICK, PEMBROKE, _and others._
_Kent._ 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. _Lan._ I fear me, you are sent of policy, To undermine us with a show of love. _War._ He is your brother; therefore have we cause To cast the worst, and doubt of your revolt. _Kent._ Mine honour shall be hostage of my truth: If that will not suffice, farewell, my lords. _Y. Mor._ Stay, Edmund: never was Plantagenet False of his word; and therefore trust we thee. _Pem._ But what's the reason you should leave him now? _Kent._ I have inform'd the Earl of Lancaster. _Lan._ And it sufficeth. Now, my lords, know this, That Gaveston is secretly arriv'd, And here in Tynmouth frolics with the king. Let us with these our followers scale the walls, And suddenly surprise them unawares. _Y. Mor._ I'll give the onset. _War._ And I'll follow thee. _Y. Mor._ This tatter'd 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 ['s] walls-- Drums, strike alarum, raise them from their sport, And ring aloud the knell of Gaveston! _Lan._ None be so hardy as to touch the king; But neither spare you Gaveston nor his friends. [_Exeunt._
_Enter, severally_ KING EDWARD _and the younger_ SPENSER.
_K. Edw._ O, tell me, Spenser, where is Gaveston? _Y. Spen._ I fear me he is slain, my gracious lord. _K. Edw._ No, here he comes; now let them spoil and kill.
_Enter_ QUEEN ISABELLA, KING EDWARD'S Niece, GAVESTON, _and_ Nobles.
Fly, fly, my lords; the earls have got the hold; Take shipping, and away to Scarborough: Spenser and I will post away by land. _Gav._ O, stay, my lord! they will not injure you. _K. Edw._ I will not trust them. Gaveston, away! _Gav._ Farewell, my lord. _K. Edw._ Lady, farewell. _Niece._ Farewell, sweet uncle, till we meet again. _K. Edw._ Farewell, sweet Gaveston; and farewell, niece. _Q. Isab._ No farewell to poor Isabel thy queen? _K. Edw._ Yes, yes, for Mortimer your lover's sake. _Q. Isab._ Heavens can witness, I love none but you. [_Exeunt all except Queen Isabella._ 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_ LANCASTER, WARWICK, _the younger_ MORTIMER, _and others. Alarums within._
_Lan._ I wonder how he scap'd. _Y. Mor._ Who's this? the queen! _Q. Isab._ Ay, Mortimer, the miserable queen, Whose pining heart her inward sighs have blasted, And body with continual mourning wasted: These hands are tir'd 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. _Y. Mor._ Cease to lament, and tell us where's the king? _Q. Isab._ What would you with the king? is't him you seek? _Lan._ 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. _Q. Isab._ He's gone by water unto Scarborough: Pursue him quickly, and he cannot scape; The king hath left him, and his train is small. _War._ Forslow no time, sweet Lancaster; let's march. _Y. Mor._ How comes it that the king and he is parted? _Q. Isab._ That thus your army, going several ways, Might be of lesser force, and with the power That he intendeth presently to raise, Be easily suppress'd: therefore be gone. _Y. Mor._ Here in the river rides a Flemish hoy: Let's all aboard, and follow him amain. _Lan._ The wind that bears him hence will fill our sails; Come, come, aboard! 'tis but an hour's sailing. _Y. Mor._ Madam, stay you within this castle here. _Q. Isab._ No, Mortimer; I'll to my lord the king. _Y. Mor._ Nay, rather sail with us to Scarborough. _Q. Isab._ You know the king is so suspicious As, if he hear I have but talk'd with you, Mine honour will be call'd in question; And therefore, gentle Mortimer, be gone. _Y. Mor._ Madam, I cannot stay to answer you: But think of Mortimer as he deserves. [_Exeunt all except Queen Isabella._ _Q. Isab._ So well hast thou deserv'd, sweet Mortimer, As Isabel could live with thee for ever. In vain I look for love at Edward's hand, Whose eyes are fix'd on none but Gaveston. Yet once more I'll importune him with prayer: 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 robb'd me of his love: But yet, I hope, my sorrows will have end, And Gaveston this blessed day be slain. [_Exit._
_Enter_ GAVESTON, _pursued._
_Gav._ Yet, lusty lords, I have escap'd your hands, Your threats, your 'larums, and your hot pursuits; And, though divorced from King Edward's eyes, Yet liveth Pierce of Gaveston unsurpris'd, Breathing in hope (malgrado all your beards, That muster rebels thus against your king) To see his royal sovereign once again.
_Enter_ WARWICK, LANCASTER, PEMBROKE, _the younger_ MORTIMER, Soldiers, JAMES _and other_ Attendants _of_ PENBROKE.
_War._ Upon him, soldiers! take away his weapons! _Y. Mor._ 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 dishonour to a soldier's name, Upon my weapon's point here shouldst thou fall, And welter in thy gore. _Lan._ Monster of men, That, like the Greekish strumpet, train'd to arms And bloody wars so many valiant knights, Look for no other fortune, wretch, than death! King Edward is not here to buckler thee. _War._ Lancaster, why talk'st 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. _Gav._ My lord,-- _War._ Soldiers, have him away.-- But, for thou wert the favourite of a king, Thou shalt have so much honour at our hands. _Gav._ I thank you all, my lords: then I perceive That heading is one, and hanging is the other, And death is all.
_Enter_ ARUNDEL.
_Lan._ How now, my Lord of Arundel! _Arun._ My lords, King Edward greets you all by me. _War._ Arundel, say your message. _Arun._ His majesty, hearing that you had taken Gaveston, Entreateth 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. _War._ How now! _Gav._ Renowmed Edward, how thy name Revives poor Gaveston! _War._ No, it needeth not: Arundel, we will gratify the king In other matters; he must pardon us in this.-- Soldiers, away with him! _Gav._ Why, my Lord of Warwick, Will now these short delays beget my hopes? I know it, lords, it is life you aim at, Yet grant King Edward this. _Y. Mor._ 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. _Lan._ Not so, my lord, lest he bestow more cost In burying him than he hath ever earn'd. _Arun._ My lords, it is his majesty's request, And in the honour of a king he swears, He will but talk with him, and send him back. _War._ When, can you tell? Arundel, no; we wot He that the care of his realm remits, And drives his nobles to these exigents For Gaveston, will, if he seize him once, Violate any promise to possess him. _Arun._ Then, if you will not trust his grace in keep, My lords, I will be pledge for his return. _Y. Mor._ 'Tis honourable 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. _Gav._ How mean'st thou, Mortimer? that is over-base. _Y. Mor._ Away, base groom, robber of king's renown! Question with thy companions and mates. _Pem._ 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 honour undertake To carry him, and bring him back again; Provided this, that you, my Lord of Arundel, Will join with me. _War._ 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? _Pem._ My lords, I will not over-woo your honours: But, if you dare trust Pembroke with the prisoner, Upon mine oath, I will return him back. _Arun._ My Lord of Lancaster, what say you in this? _Lan._ Why, I say, let him go on Pembroke's word. _Pem._ And you, Lord Mortimer? _Y. Mor._ How say you, my Lord of Warwick? _War._ Nay, do your pleasures: I know how 'twill prove. _Pem._ Then give him me. _Gav._ Sweet sovereign, yet I come To see thee ere I die! _War._ Yet not perhaps, If Warwick's wit and policy prevail. [_Aside._ _Y. Mor._ My Lord of Pembroke, we deliver him you: Return him on your honour.--Sound, away! [_Exeunt all except Pembroke, Arundel, Gaveston, James and other attendants of Pembroke._ _Pem._ 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 to balk their lips. _Arun._ 'Tis very kindly spoke, my Lord of Pembroke: Your honour hath an adamant of power To draw a prince. _Pem._ 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. _Gav._ Unhappy Gaveston, whither go'st thou now? [_Exit with James and other Attendants of Pembroke._ _Horse-boy._ My lord, we'll quickly be at Cobham. [_Exeunt._
_Enter_ GAVESTON _mourning,_ JAMES _and other_ Attendants _of_ PEMBROKE.
_Gav._ O treacherous Warwick, thus to wrong thy friend! _James._ I see it is your life these arms pursue. _Gav._ Weaponless must I fall, and die in bands? O, must this day be period of my life, Centre of all my bliss? And ye be men, Speed to the king.
_Enter_ WARWICK _and_ Soldiers.
_War._ My Lord of Pembroke's men, Strive you no longer: I will have that Gaveston. _James._ Your lordship doth dishonour to yourself, And wrong our lord, your honourable friend. _War._ 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 watch'd it well.-- Come, let thy shadow parley with King Edward. _Gav._ Treacherous earl, shall I not see the king? _War._ The king of heaven perhaps, no other king.-- Away! [_Exeunt Warwick and Soldiers with Gaveston._ _James._ Come, fellows: it booted not for us to strive: We will in haste go certify our lord. [_Exeunt._
_Enter_ KING EDWARD, _the younger_ SPENSER, BALDOCK, Noblemen _of the king's side, and_ Soldiers _with drums and fifes._
_K. Edw._ I long to hear an answer from the barons Touching my friend, my dearest Gaveston. Ah, Spenser, not the riches of my realm Can ransom him! ah, he is mark'd 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 of Gaveston again: The barons overbear with me their pride. _Y. Spen._ 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 uncontroll'd 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 honour of your name, You would not suffer thus your majesty Be counterbuff'd 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. _K. Edw._ Yes, gentle Spenser, 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[s], and poll their tops. _Bald._ This haught resolve becomes your majesty, Not to be tied to their affection, As though your highness were a school-boy still, And must be aw'd and govern'd like a child.
_Enter the elder_ SPENSER _with his truncheon, and_ Soldiers.
_E. Spen._ Long live my sovereign, the noble Edward, In peace triumphant, fortunate in wars! _K. Edw._ Welcome, old man: com'st thou in Edward's aid? Then tell thy prince of whence and what thou art. _E. Spen._ Low, with a band of bow-men and of pikes, Brown bills and targeteers, four hundred strong, Sworn to defend King Edward's royal right, I come in person to your majesty, Spenser, the father of Hugh Spenser there, Bound to your highness everlastingly For favour done, in him, unto us all. _K. Edw._ Thy father, Spenser? _Y. Spen._ True, an it like your grace, That pours, in lieu of all your goodness shown, His life, my lord, before your princely feet. _K. Edw._ Welcome ten thousand times, old man, again! Spenser, this love, this kindness to thy king, Argues thy noble mind and disposition. Spenser, I here create thee Earl of Wiltshire, And daily will enrich thee with our favour, 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, Spenser, spare them not, lay it on.-- Soldiers, a largess, and thrice-welcome all! _Y. Spen._ My lord, here comes the queen.
_Enter_ QUEEN ISABELLA, PRINCE EDWARD, _and_ LEVUNE.
_K. Edw._ Madam, what news? _Q. Isab._ News of dishonour, 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. _K. Edw._ 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. _P. Edw._ Commit not to my youth things of more weight Than 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. _Q. Isab._ Ah, boy, this towardness makes thy mother fear Thou art not mark'd to many days on earth! _K. Edw._ Madam, we will that you with speed be shipp'd, And this our son; Levune shall follow you With all the haste we can despatch him hence. Choose of our lords to bear you company; And go in peace; leave us in wars at home. _Q. Isab._ Unnatural wars, where subjects brave their king: God end them once!--My lord, I take my leave, To make my preparation for France. [_Exit with Prince Edward._