Chapter 4

_Enter_ ARUNDEL.

_K. Edw._ What, Lord Arundel, dost thou come alone? _Arun._ Yea, my good lord, for Gaveston is dead. _K. Edw._ Ah, traitors, have they put my friend to death? Tell me, Arundel, died he ere thou cam'st, Or didst thou see my friend to take his death? _Arun._ Neither, my lord; for, as he was surpris'd, 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 honour of my name, That I would undertake to carry him Unto your highness, and to bring him back. _K. Edw._ And, tell me, would the rebels deny me that? _Y. Spen._ Proud recreants! _K. Edw._ Yea, Spenser, traitors all! _Arun._ In 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 lord, because our sovereign sends for him, And promiseth he shall be safe return'd, I will this undertake, to have him hence, And see him re-deliver'd to your hands." _K. Edw._ Well, and how fortunes [it] that he came not? _Y. Spen._ Some treason or some villany was cause. _Arun._ The Earl of Warwick seiz'd him on his way; For, being deliver'd unto Pembroke's men, Their lord rode home, thinking his prisoner safe; But, ere he came, Warwick in ambush lay, And bare him to his death; and in a trench Strake off his head, and march'd unto the camp. _Y. Spen._ A bloody part, flatly 'gainst law of arms! _K. Edw._ O, shall I speak, or shall I sigh and die! _Y. Spen._ My lord, refer your vengeance to the sword Upon these barons; hearten up your men; Let them not unreveng'd murder your friends: Advance your standard, Edward, in the field, And march to fire them from their starting-holes. _K. Edw._ [_kneeling._] 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 honours 'longing to my crown, I will have heads and lives for him as many As I have manors, castles, towns, and towers!-- [_Rises._ 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 colours may suggest Remembrance of revenge immortally On your accursed traitorous progeny, You villains that have slain my Gaveston!-- And in this place of honour and of trust, Spenser, sweet Spenser, I adopt thee here; And merely of our love we do create thee Earl of Glocester and Lord Chamberlain, Despite of times, despite of enemies. _Y. Spen._ My lord, here's a messenger from the barons Desires access unto your majesty. _K. Edw._ Admit him near.

_Enter_ Herald _with his coat of arms._

_Her._ Long live King Edward, England's lawful lord! _K. Edw._ So wish not they, I wis, that sent thee hither: Thou com'st from Mortimer and his complices: A ranker rout of rebels never was. Well, say thy message. _Her._ 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 Spenser, as a putrifying branch That deads the royal vine, whose golden leaves Empale 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 honours, and their lives, Are to your highness vow'd and consecrate. _Y. Spen._ Ah, traitors, will they still display their pride? _K. Edw._ 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 [_Embraces young Spenser._ Spenser from thee. 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. [_Exit Herald._ My lord[s], 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. Alarums, excursions, a great fight, and a retreat sounded, within._

_Re-enter_ KING EDWARD, _the elder_ SPENSER, _the younger_ SPENSER, BALDOCK, _and_ Noblemen _of the king's side._

_K. Edw._ Why do we sound retreat? upon them, lords! This day I shall your vengeance with my sword On those proud rebels that are up in arms, And do confront and countermand their king. _Y. Spen._ I doubt it not, my lord; right will prevail. _E. Spen._ 'Tis not amiss, my liege, for either part To breathe a while; our men, with sweat and dust All chok'd well near, begin to faint for heat; And this retire refresheth horse and man. _Y. Spen._ Here come the rebels.

_Enter the younger_ MORTIMER, LANCASTER, WARWICK, PEMBROKE, _and others._

_Y. Mor._ Look, Lancaster, yonder is Edward Among his flatterers. _Lan._And there let him be, Till he pay dearly for their company. _War._ And shall, or Warwick's sword shall smite in vain. _K. Edw._ What, rebels, do you shrink and sound retreat? _Y. Mor._ No, Edward, no; thy flatterers faint and fly. _Lan._ They'd best betimes forsake thee and their trains, For they'll betray thee, traitors as they are. _Y. Spen._ Traitor on thy face, rebellious Lancaster! _Pem._ Away, base upstart! brav'st thou nobles thus? _E. Spen._ A noble attempt and honourable deed, Is it not, trow ye, to assemble aid And levy arms against your lawful king? _K. Edw._ For which, ere long, their heads shall satisfy T' appease the wrath of their offended king. _Y. Mor._ Then, Edward, thou wilt fight it to the last, And rather bathe thy sword in subjects' blood Than banish that pernicious company? _K. Edw._ Ay, traitors all, rather than thus be brav'd, Make England's civil towns huge heaps of stones, And ploughs to go about our palace-gates. _War._ A desperate and unnatural resolution!-- Alarum to the fight! Saint George for England, and the barons' right! _K. Edw._ Saint George for England, and King Edward's right! [_Alarums. Exeunt the two parties severally._

_Enter_ KING EDWARD _and his followers, with the_ Barons _and_ KENT _captive._

_K. Edw._ Now, lusty lords, now not by chance of war, But justice of the quarrel and the cause, Vail'd is your pride: methinks you hang the heads But we'll advance them, traitors: now 'tis time To be aveng'd 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 favourite: Ah, rebels, recreants, you made him away! _Kent._ Brother, in regard of thee and of thy land, Did they remove that flatterer from thy throne. _K. Edw._ So, sir, you have spoke: away, avoid our presence! [_Exit Kent._ Accursed wretches, was't in regard of us, When we had sent our messenger to request He might be spar'd to come to speak with us, And Pembroke undertook for his return, That thou, proud Warwick, watch'd the prisoner, Poor Pierce, and headed him 'gainst law of arms? For which thy head shall overlook the rest As much as thou in rage outwent'st the rest. _War._ Tyrant, I scorn thy threats and menaces; It is but temporal that thou canst inflict. _Lan._ The worst is death; and better die to live Than live in infamy under such a king. _K. Edw._ Away with them, my lord of Winchester! These lusty leaders, Warwick and Lancaster, I charge you roundly, off with both their heads! Away! _War._ Farewell, vain world! _Lan._ Sweet Mortimer, farewell! _Y. Mor._ England, unkind to thy nobility, Groan for this grief! behold how thou art maim'd! _K. Edw._ Go, take that haughty Mortimer to the Tower; There see him safe bestow'd; and, for the rest, Do speedy execution on them all. Be gone! _Y. Mor._ What, Mortimer, can ragged stony walls Immure thy virtue that aspires to heaven? No, Edward, England's scourge, it may not be; Mortimer's hope surmounts his fortune far. [_The captive Barons are led off._ _K. Edw._ Sound, drums and trumpets! March with me, my friends. Edward this day hath crown'd him king anew. [_Exeunt all except the younger Spenser, Levune and Baldock._ _Y. Spen._ 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 suffer'd Jove to pass in showers of gold To Danaë, all aid may be denied To Isabel 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 levell'd at. _Bal._ Yea, but, Levune, thou seest, These barons lay their heads on blocks together: What they intend, the hangman frustrates clean. _Levune._ Have you no doubt, my lords, I'll clap so close Among the lords of France with England's gold, That Isabel shall make her plaints in vain, And France shall be obdurate with her tears. _Y. Spen._ Then make for France amain; Levune, away! Proclaim King Edward's wars and victories. [_Exeunt._

_Enter_ KENT.

_Kent._ Fair blows the wind for France: blow, gentle gale, Till Edmund be arriv'd 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 nobleman And cherish flatterers! Mortimer, I stay Thy sweet escape. Stand gracious, gloomy night, To his device!

_Enter the younger_ 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._

_Enter_ QUEEN ISABELLA _and_ PRINCE EDWARD.

_Q. Isab._ Ah, boy, our friends do fail us all in France! The lords are cruel, and the king unkind. What shall we do? _P. Edw._ 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 Spensers. _Q. Isab._ Ah, boy, thou art deceiv'd, at least in this, To think that we can yet be tun'd together! No, no, we jar too far.--Unkind Valois! Unhappy Isabel, when France rejects, Whither, O, whither dost thou bend thy steps?

_Enter_ SIR JOHN OF HAINAULT.

_Sir J._ Madam, what cheer? _Q. Isab._ 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? _P. Edw._ So pleaseth the queen my mother, me it likes: The king of England, not 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 Spenser's head! _Sir J._ Well said, my lord! _Q. Isab._ 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, on 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_ KENT _and the younger_ MORTIMER.

_Kent._ Madam, long may you live, Much happier than your friends in England do! _Q. Isab._ 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, reserv'd for better hap, Hath shaken off the thraldom of the Tower, And lives t' advance your standard, good my lord. _P. Edw._ How mean you, and the king my father lives? No, my Lord Mortimer, not I, I trow. _Q. Isab._ 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 show'd himself: but, madam, right makes room Where weapons want; and, though a many friends Are made away, as Warwick, Lancaster, And others of our part 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. _Kent._ Would all were well, and Edward well reclaim'd, For England's honour, peace, and quietness! _Y. Mor._ But by the sword, my lord, 't must be deserv'd: The king will ne'er forsake his flatterers. _Sir J._ My lords of England, sith th' 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'st, young prince, what think you of the match? _P. Edw._ I think King Edward will outrun us all. _Q. Isab._ Nay, son, not so; and you must not discourage Your friends that are so forward in your aid. _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. _Q. Isab._ 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 restor'd and comforted. _Sir J._ Madam, along; and you, my lord[s], with me, That England's peers may Hainault's welcome see. [_Exeunt._

_Enter_ KING EDWARD, ARUNDEL, _the elder_ SPENSER, _the younger_ SPENSER, _and others._

_K. Edw._ Thus, after many threats of wrathful war, Triumpheth England's Edward with his friends, And triumph Edward with his friends uncontroll'd!-- My Lord of Glocester, do you hear the news? _Y. Spen._ What news, my lord? _K. 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._From the Lieutenant of the Tower, my lord. _K. Edw._ I pray, let us see it. [_Takes the note from Arundel._ --What have we there?-- Read it, Spenser. [_Gives the note to young Spenser, who reads their names._ Why, so: they bark'd apace a month ago; Now, on my life, they'll neither bark nor bite. Now, sirs, the news from France? Glocester, I trow, The lords of France love England's gold so well As Isabella gets no aid from thence. What now remains? have you proclaim'd, 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. _K. Edw._ If, dost thou say? Spenser, as true as death, He is in England's ground: our port-masters Are not so careless of their king's command.

_Enter a_ Messenger.

How now! what news with thee? from whence come these? _Mess._ Letters, my lord, and tidings forth of France: To you, my Lord of Glocester, from Levune. [_Gives letters to young Spenser._ _K. Edw._ Read. _Y. Spen._ [reading.] _My duty to your honour promised, etc., I have, according to instructions in that behalf, dealt with the King of France and 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._ _K. Edw._ Ah, villains, hath that Mortimer escap'd? With him is Edmund gone associate? And will Sir John of Hainault lead the round? Welcome, o' God's name, madam, and your son! England shall welcome you and all your rout. Gallop apace, 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 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 Bristow, there to make us strong: And, winds, as equal be to bring them in, As you injurious were to bear them forth! [_Exeunt._

_Enter_ QUEEN ISABELLA, PRINCE EDWARD, KENT, _the younger_ MORTIMER, _and_ SIR JOHN OF HAINAULT.

_Q. Isab._ 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 gor'd! But what's the help? Misgovern'd kings are cause of all this wreck; And, Edward, thou art one among them all, Whose looseness hath betray'd thy land to spoil, Who made the channel 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, Arriv'd 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 sword; That England's queen in peace may repossess Her dignities and honours; and withal We may remove these flatterers from the king That havock England's wealth and treasury. _Sir J._ Sound trumpets, my lord, and forward let us march. Edward will think we come to flatter him. _Kent._ I would he never had been flatter'd more! [_Exeunt._

_Enter_ KING EDWARD, BALDOCK, _and the younger_ SPENSER.

_Y. Spen._ 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. _K. Edw._ 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 honour die with fame. _Bald._ O, no, my lord! this princely resolution Fits not the time: away! we are pursu'd. [_Exeunt._

_Enter_ KENT, _with a sword and target._

_Kent._ 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? Vile 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 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 into thy walks.

_Enter_ QUEEN ISABELLA, PRINCE EDWARD, _the younger_ MORTIMER, _and_ SIR JOHN JOHN OF HAINAULT.

_Q. Isab._ Successful battle gives the God of kings To them that fight in right, and fear in wrath, Since, then, successfully we have prevail'd, Thanked 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. _Kent._ Madam, without offence if I may ask How will you deal with Edward in his fall? _P. Edw._ Tell me, good uncle, what Edward do you mean? _Kent._ Nephew, your father; I dare not call him king. _Y. 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 disposed of.-- I like not this relenting mood in Edmund: Madam, 'tis good to look to him betimes. [_Aside to the Queen._ _Q. Isab._ My lord, the Mayor of Bristow knows our mind. _Y. Mor._ Yea, madam; and they scape not easily That fled the field. _Q. Isab._ Baldock is with the king: A goodly chancellor, is he not, my lord? _Sir J._ So are the Spensers, the father and the son. _Y. Mor._ This Edward is the ruin of the realm.

_Enter_ RICE AP HOWEL _with the elder_ SPENSER _prisoner, and_ Attendants.