They would not stir, were it to do me good. Proud Rome! that hatchest such imperial grooms, Re-enter GAVESTON. Gav. My lord, I hear it whispered everywhere, That I am banished, and must fly the land. K. Edw. 'Tis true, sweet Gaveston-O! were it false ! And thou must hence, or I shall be deposed. Gav. Is all my hope turned to this hell of grief? K. 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 looks The blessedness of Gaveston remains : For nowhere else seeks he felicity. K. Edw. And only this torments my wretched soul Be governor of Ireland in my stead, [They exchange pictures. O, might I keep thee here as I do this, Gav. 'Tis something to be pitied of a king. K. Edw. Thou shalt not hence—I'll hide thee, Gaveston. Gav. I shall be found, and then 'twill grieve me more. K. Edw. Kind words and mutual talk makes our grief greater: Therefore, with dumb embracement, let us part Stay, Gaveston, I can not leave thee thus. Gav. For every look, my love' drops down a tear: K. Edw. The time is little that thou hast to stay, K. Edw. I pass 2 not for their anger - Come, let's go; O that we might as well return as go. I Enter QUEEN ISABELLA. Q. Isab. Whither goes my lord? K. Edw. Fawn not on me, French strumpet! get thee gone! Q. Isab. On whom but on my husband should I fawn? Gav. On Mortimer! with whom, ungentle queen say no more - judge you the rest, my lord. Q. Isab. In saying this, thou wrong'st me, Gaveston; Is't not enough that thou corrupt'st my lord, 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. But I would wish thee reconcile the lords, Q. Isab. Your highness knows it lies not in my power. K. Edw. Speak not unto her; let her droop and pine. Q. Isab. 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. K. 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 And witness Heaven how dear thou art to me: There weep for till my Gaveston be repealed, Assure thyself thou com'st not in my sight.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. Q. Isab. O miserable and distressèd queen! Would, when I left sweet France and was embarked, 2 Care. I had been stifled, and not lived to see Re-enter LANCASTER, WARWICK, PEMBROKE, the Elder MORTIMER, and Young MORTIMER. Lan. Look where the sister of the King of France Y. Mor. Madam, how fares your grace? Q. Isab. Ah, Mortimer! now breaks the king's hate forth, Y. Mor. Cry quittance, madam, then; and love not him. 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. Q. Isab. O never, Lancaster! I am enjoined To sue upon you all for his repeal; This wills my lord, and this must I perform, 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? The angry king hath banished me the court; And, therefore, as thou lov'st and tender'st me, Be thou my advocate unto these peers. Y. Mor. What! would you have me plead for Gaveston? Q. Isab. 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. That now, I hope, floats on the Irish seas. Q. Isab. 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. Q. Isab. Then thus, but none shall hear it but ourselves. [Talks to Young MORTIMER apart. Lan. My lords, albeit the queen win Mortimer, Will you be resolute, and hold with me? E. Mor. Not I, against my nephew. Pem. Fear not, the queen's words can not alter him. Y. Mor. Well, of necessity it must be so. My lords, that I abhor base Gaveston, Q. Isab. Yet, good my lord, hear what he can allege. Y. Mor. Why then, my lord, give me but leave to speak. Y. Mor. This which I urge is of a burning zeal 1 Consideration. As he will front the mightiest of us all? War. Mark you but that, my lord of Lancaster. And none so much as blame the murderer, For purging of the realm of such a plague! Lan. Ay, 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, 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, 'Tis treason to be up against the king; Think me as base a groom as Gaveston. Lan. On that condition, Lancaster will grant. War. And I. E. Mor And I. Y. Mor. In this I count me highly gratified, And Mortimer will rest at your command. Q. Isab. And when this favour Isabel forgets, But see, in happy time, my lord the king, I Lower. |