Than he can Gaveston; would he love me Re-enter KING EDWARD, mourning. K. Edw. He's gone, and for his absence thus I mourn. Did never sorrow go so near my heart As doth the want of my sweet Gaveston; And could my crown's revenue bring him back, I would freely give it to his enemies, And think I gained, having bought so dear a friend. Lan. Diablo! What passions call you these? K. Edw. For thee, fair queen, if thou lov'st Gaveston; I'll hang a golden tongue about thy neck, Seeing thou hast pleaded with so good success. Q. Isab. No other jewels hang about my neck Than these, my lord; nor let me have more wealth Than I may fetch from this rich treasury O how a kiss revives poor Isabel ! K. Edw. Once more receive my hand; and let this be A second marriage 'twixt thyself and me. Q. Isab. And may it prove more happy than the first! My gentle lord, bespeak these nobles fair, That wait attendance for a gracious look, And on their knees salute your majesty. K. Edw. Courageous Lancaster, embrace thy king! Lan. This salutation overjoys my heart. K. Edw. Warwick shall be my chiefest counsellor : These silver hairs will more adorn my court War. Slay me, my lord, when I offend your grace. Pem. And with this sword Pembroke will fight for you. K. Edw. But wherefore walks young Mortimer aside? Be thou commander of our royal fleet; Or, if that lofty office like thee not, I make thee here Lord Marshal of the realm. Y. Mor. My lord, I'll marshal so your enemies, As England shall be quiet, and you safe. K. Edw. And as for you, Lord Mortimer of Chirke, Be you the general of the levied troops, That now are ready to assail the Scots. E. Mor. In this your grace hath highly honoured me, For with my nature war doth best agree. Q. Isab. Now is the King of England rich and strong, Having the love of his renowned peers. K. Edw. Ay, Isabel, ne'er was my heart so light. Clerk of the crown, direct our warrant forth For Gaveston to Ireland: Enter BEAUMONT with warrant. Beaumont, fly As fast as Iris or Jove's Mercury. Bea. It shall be done, my gracious lord. K. Edw. Lord Mortimer, we leave you to your charge. Now let us in, and feast it royally. Against our friend the Earl of Cornwall comes, K. Edw. That day, if not for him, yet for my sake, [Exit. War. In this, or aught your highness shall command us. K. Edw. Thanks, gentle Warwick: come, let's in and revel. [Exeunt all except the MORTIMERS. I Affianced him. E. Mor. Nephew, I must to Scotland; thou stayest here. The conquering Hercules for Hylas wept ; Then let his grace, whose youth is flexible, For riper years will wean him from such toys. Y. Mor. Uncle, his wanton humour grieves not me; But this I scorn, that one so basely born Should by his sovereign's favour grow so pert, And riot it with the treasure of the realm. E. Mor. But, nephew, now you see the king is changed. But whiles I have a sword, a hand, a heart, I will not yield to any such upstart. You know my mind; come, uncle, let's away. [Exeunt. B ACT II SCENE I.-A HALL IN GLOUCESTER HOUSE Enter Young SPENCER and BALDOCK. ALD. Spencer, Seeing that our lord the earl of Gloucester's dead, Which of the nobles dost thou mean to serve? Y. Spen. Not Mortimer, nor any of his side; May with one word advance us while we live: Bald. What, mean you then to be his follower? Bald. But he is banished; there's small hope of him. Y. Spen. Ay, for a while; but, Baldock, mark the end. A friend of mine told me in secrecy That he's repealed, and sent for back again; And even now a post came from the court With letters to our lady from the king; And as she read she smiled, which makes me think Bald. 'Tis like enough; for since he was exiled Y. Spen. Our lady's first love is not wavering; Bald. Then hope I by her means to be preferred, Having read unto her since she was a child. Y. Spen. Then, Baldock, you must cast the scholar off, And learn to court it like a gentleman. 'Tis not a black coat and a little band, A velvet-caped coat, faced before with serge, Or looking downward with your eyelids close, And saying, "Truly, an't may please your honour," Bald. Spencer, thou know'st I hate such formal toys, Mine old lord while he lived was so precise, That he would take exceptions at my buttons, And being like pin's heads, blame me for the bigness; And apt for any kind of villany. I am none of these common pedants, I, Y. Spen. But one of those that saith, quandoquidem, Bald. Leave off this jesting, here my lady comes. Enter KING EDWARD'S Niece Niece. The grief for his exile was not so much, This letter came from my sweet Gaveston : I know thou could'st not come and visit me: [Reads.] "I will not long be from thee, though I die." This argues the entire love of my lord; [Reads.] "When I forsake thee, death seize on my heart:" But stay thee here where Gaveston shall sleep. [Puts the letter into her bosom. Now to the letter of my lord the king. He wills me to repair unto the court, See that my coach be ready, I must hence. 6 Niece. And meet me at the park-pale presently. Spencer, stay you and bear me company, And will be at the court as soon as we. [Exit BALDOCK. Y. Spen. I knew the king would have him home again. I Turn. |