Christopher Marlowe - Edward II lyrics

Enter GAVESTON, reading a letter. Gav. My father is deceas'd. Come, Gaveston, And share the kingdom with thy dearest friend. Ah, words that make me surfeit with delight! What greater bliss can hap to Gaveston Than live and be the favourite of a king! Sweet prince, I come! these, thy amorous lines Might have enforc'd me to have swum from France, And, like Leander, gasp'd upon the sand, So thou wouldst smile, and take me in thine arms. The sight of London to my exil'd eyes Is as Elysium to a new-come soul: Not that I love the city or the men, But that it harbours him I hold so dear,— The king, upon whose bosom let me lie, And with the world be still at enmity. What need the arctic people love star-light, To whom the sun shines both by day and night? Farewell base stooping to the lordly peers! My knee shall bow to none but to the king. As for the multitude, that are but sparks, Rak'd up in embers of their poverty,— Tanti,—I'll fawn first on the wind, That glanceth at my lips, and flieth away. Enter three Poor Men. But how now! what are these? Poor Men. Such as desire your worship's service. Gav. What canst thou do? First P. Man. I can ride. Gav. But I have no horse.—What art thou? Sec. P. Man. A traveller. Gav. Let me see; thou wouldst do well To wait at my trencher, and tell me lies at dinner-time; And, as I like your discoursing, I'll have you.— And what art thou? Third P. Man. A soldier, that hath serv'd against the Scot. Gav. Why, there are hospitals for such as you: I have no war; and therefore, sir, be gone. Third P. Man. Farewell, and perish by a soldier's hand, That wouldst reward them with an hospital! Gav. Ay, ay, these words of his move me as much As if a goose should play the porcupine, And dart her plumes, thinking to pierce my breast. But yet it is no pain to speak men fair; I'll flatter these, and make them live in hope.— [Aside. You know that I came lately out of France, And yet I have not view'd my lord the king: If I speed well, I'll entertain you all. All. We thank your worship. Gav. I have some business: leave me to myself. All. We will wait here about the court. Gav. Do. Exeunt Poor Men. These are not men for me; I must have wanton poets, pleasant wits, Musicians, that with touching of a string May draw the pliant king which way I please: Music and poetry is his delight; Therefore I'll have Italian masks by night, Sweet speeches, comedies, and pleasing shows; And in the day, when he shall walk abroad, Like sylvan nymphs my pages shall be clad; My men, like satyrs grazing on the lawns, Shall with their goat-feet dance the antic hay; Sometime a lovely boy in Dian's shape, With hair that gilds the water as it glides Crownets of pearl about his naked arms, And in his sportful hands an olive-tree, To hide those parts which men delight to see, Shall bathe him in a spring; and there, hard by, One like Actæon, peeping through the grove, Shall by the angry goddess be transform'd, And running in the likeness of an hart, By yelping hounds pull'd down, shall semm to die: Such things as these best please his majesty.— Here comes my lord the king, and the nobles, From the parliament. I'll stand aside. Retires. Enter KING EDWARD, KENT, LANCASTER, the elder MORTIMER, the younger MORTIMER, WARWICK, PEMBROKE, and Attendants. K. Edw. Lancaster! Lan. My lord? Gav. That Earl of Lancaster do I abhor. [Aside. K. Edw. Will you not grant me this?—In spite of them I'll have my will; and these two Mortimers, That cross me thus, shall know I am displeased. [Aside. E. Mor. If you love us, my lord, hate Gaveston. Gav. That villain Mortimer! I'll be his d**h. [Aside. __Y. Mor._ Mine uncle here, this earl, and I myself, Were sworn to your father at his d**h, That he should ne'er return into the realm: And now, my lord, ere I will break my oath, This sword of mine, that should offend your foes, Shall sleep within the scabbard at thy need, And underneath thy banners march who will, For Mortimer will hang his armour up. Gav. Mort dieu! [Aside. K. Edw. Well, Mortimer, I'll make thee rue these words: Beseems it thee to contradict thy king? Frown'st thou thereat, aspiring Lancaster? The sword shall plane the furrows of thy brows, And hew these knees that now are grown so stiff. I will have Gaveston; and you shall know What danger 'tis to stand against your king. Gav. Well done, Ned! [Aside. Lan. My lord, why do you thus incense your peers, That naturally would love and honour you, But for that base and obscure Gaveston? Four earldoms have I, besides Lancaster,— Derby, Salisbury, Lincoln, Leicester; These will I sell, to give my soldiers pay, Ere Gaveston shall stay within the realm: Therefore, if he be come, expel him straight. Kent. Barons and earls, your pride hath made me mute; But know I'll speak, and to the proof, I hope. I do remember, in my father's days, Lord Percy of the North, being highly mov'd, Brav'd Mowbray in presence of the king; For which, had not his highness lov'd him well, He should have lost his head; but with his look Th' undaunted spirit of Percy was appeas'd, And Mowbray and he were reconcil'd: Yet dare you brave the king unto his face.— Brother, revenge it, and let these their heads Preach upon poles, for trespa** of their tongues. War. O, our heads! K. Edw. Ay, yours; and therefore I would wish you grant. War. Bridle thy anger, gentle Mortimer. Y. Mor. I cannot, nor I will not; I must speak.— Cousin, our hands I hope shall fence our heads, And strike off his that makes you threaten us.— Come, uncle, let us leave the brain-sick king, And henceforth parley with our naked swords. E. Mor. Wiltshire hath men enough to save our heads. War. All Warwickshire will leave him for my sake. Lan. And northward Lancaster hath many friends.— Adieu, my lord; and either change your mind, Or look to see the throne, where you should sit, To float in blood, and at thy wanton head The glozing head of thy base minion thrown. [Exeunt all except King Edward, Kent, Gaveston, and attendants. K. Edw. I cannot brook these haughty menaces: Am I a king, and must be over-rul'd!— Brother, display my ensigns in the field: I'll bandy with the barons and the earls, And either die or live with Gaveston. Gav. I can no longer keep me from my lord. [Comes forward. K. Edw. What, Gaveston! welcome! Kiss not my hand: Embrace me, Gaveston, as I do thee. Why shouldst thou kneel? know'st thou not who I am? Thy friend, thyself, another Gaveston: Not Hylas was more mourned for of Hercules Than thou hast been of me since thy exile. Gav. And, since I went from hence, no soul in hell Hath felt more torment than poor Gaveston. K. Edw. I know it.—Brother, welcome home my friend.— Now let the treacherous Mortimers conspire, And that high-minded Earl of Lancaster: I have my wish, in that I joy thy sight; And sooner shall the sea o'erwhelm my land Than bear the ship that shall transport thee hence. I here create thee Lord High-chamberlain, Chief Secretary to the state and me, Earl of Cornwall, King and Lord of Man. Gav. My lord, these titles far exceed my worth. Kent. Brother, the least of these may well suffice For one of greater birth than Gaveston. K. Edw. Cease, brother, for I cannot brook these words.— Thy worth, sweet friend, is far above my gifts: Therefore, to equal it, receive my heart. If for these dignities thou be envied, I'll give thee more; for, but to honour thee, Is Edward pleas'd with kingly regiment. Fear'st thou thy person? thou shalt have a guard: Wantest thou gold? go to my treasury: Wouldst thou be lov'd and fear'd? receive my seal, Save or condemn, and in our name command What so thy mind affects, or fancy likes. Gav. It shall suffice me to enjoy your love; Which whiles I have, I think myself as great As Cæsar riding in the Roman street, With captive kings at his triumphant car. Enter the BISHOP OF COVENTRY. K. Edw. Whither goes my Lord of Coventry so fast? Bish. of Cov. To celebrate your father's exequies. But is that wicked Gaveston return'd? K. Edw. Ay, priest, and lives to be reveng'd on thee, That wert the only cause of his exile. Gav. 'Tis true; and, but for reverence of these robes, Thou shouldst not plod one foot beyond this place. Bish. of Cov. I did no more than I was bound to do: And, Gaveston, unless thou be reclaim'd, As then I did incense the parliament, So will I now, and thou shalt back to France. Gav. Saving your reverence, you must pardon me. K. Edw. Throw off his golden mitre, rend his stole, And in the channel christen him anew. Kent. Ay, brother, lay not violent hands on him! For he'll complain unto the see of Rome. Gav. Let him complain unto the see of hell: I'll be reveng'd on him for my exile. K. Edw. No, spare his life, but seize upon his goods: Be thou lord bishop, and receive his rents, And make him serve thee as thy chaplain: I give him thee; here, use him as thou wilt. Gav. He shall to prison, and there die in bolts. K. Edw. Ay, to the Tower, the Fleet, or where thou wilt. Bish. of Cov. For this offence be thou accurs'd of God! K. Edw. Who's there? Convey this priest to the Tower. Bish. of Cov. True, true. K. Edw. But, in the meantime, Gaveston, away, And take possession of his house and goods. Come, follow me, and thou shalt have my guard To see it done, and bring thee safe again. Gav. What should a priest do with so fair a house? A prison may beseem his holiness. [Exeunt. Enter, on one side, the elder MORTIMER, and the younger MORTIMER; on the other, WARWICK, and LANCASTER. War. 'Tis true, the bishop is in the Tower, And goods and body given to Gaveston. Lan. What, will they tyrannise upon the church? Ah, wicked King! accursed Gaveston! This ground, which is corrupted with their steps, Shall be their timeless sepulchre or mine. Y. Mor. Well, let that peevish Frenchman guard him sure; Unless his breast be sword-proof, he shall die. E. Mor. How now! why droops the Earl of Lancaster? Y. Mor. Wherefore is Guy of Warwick discontent? Lan. That villain Gaveston is made an earl. E. Mor. An earl! War. Ay, and besides Lord-chamberlain of the realm, And Secretary too, and Lord of Man. E. Mor. We may not nor we will not suffer this. Y. Mor. Why post we not from hence to levy men? Lan. "My Lord of Cornwall" now at every word; And happy is the man whom he vouchsafes, For vailing of his bonnet, one good look. Thus, arm in arm, the king and he doth march: Nay, more, the guard upon his lordship waits, And all the court begins to flatter him. War. Thus leaning on the shoulder of the king, He nods, and scorns, and smiles at those that pa**. E. Mor. Doth no man take exceptions at the slave? Lan. All stomach him, but none dare speak a word. Y. Mor. Ah, that bewrays their baseness, Lancaster! Were all the earls and barons of my mind, We'd hale him from the bosom of the king, And at the court-gate hang the peasant up, Who, swoln with venom of ambitious pride, Will be the ruin of the realm and us. War. Here comes my Lord of Canterbury's grace. Lan. His countenance bewrays he is displeas'd. Enter the ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY,and an Attendant. Archb. of Cant. First, were his sacred garments rent and torn; Then laid they violent hands upon him; next, Himself imprison'd, and his goods a**eiz'd: This certify the Pope: away, take horse. [Exit Attendant. Lan. My lord, will you take arms against the king? Archb. of Cant. What need I? God himself is up in arms When violence is offer'd to the church. Y. Mor. Then will you join with us, that be his peers, To banish or behead that Gaveston? Archb. of Cant. What else, my lords? for it concerns me near; The bishoprick of Coventry is his. Enter QUEEN ISABELLA. Y. Mor. Madam, whither walks your majesty so fast? Q. Isab. Unto the forest, gentle Mortimer, To live in grief and baleful discontent; For now my lord the king regards me not, But dotes upon the love of Gaveston: He claps his cheeks, and hangs about his neck, Smiles in his face, and whispers in his ears; And, when I come, he frowns, as who should say, "Go whither thou wilt, seeing I have Gaveston." E. Mor. Is it not strange that he is thus bewitch'd? Y. Mor. Madam, return unto the court again: That sly inveigling Frenchman we'll exile, Or lose our lives; and yet, ere that day come, The king shall lose his crown; for we have power, And courage too, to be reveng'd at full. Archb. of Cant. But yet lift not your swords against the king. Lan. No; but we will lift Gaveston from hence. War. And war must be the means, or he'll stay still. Q. Isab. Then let him stay; for, rather than my lord Shall be oppress'd with civil mutinies, I will endure a melancholy life, And let him frolic with his minion. Archb. of Cant. My lords, to ease all this, but hear me speak: We and the rest, that are his counsellors, Will meet, and with a general consent Confirm his banishment with our hands and seals. Lan. What we confirm the king will frustrate. Y. Mor. Then may we lawfully revolt from him. War. But say, my lord, where shall this meeting be? Archb. of Cant. At the New Temple. Y. Mor. Content. Archb. of Cant. And, in the meantime, I'll entreat you all To cross to Lambeth, and there stay with me. Lan. Come, then, let's away. Y. Mor. Madam, farewell. Q. Isab. Farewell, sweet Mortimer, and, for my sake, Forbear to levy arms against the king. Y. Mor. Ay, if words will serve; if not, I must. [Exeunt. Enter GAVESTON and KENT. Gav. Edmund, the mighty prince of Lancaster, That hath more earldoms than an a** can bear, And both the Mortimers, two goodly men, With Guy of Warwick, that redoubted knight, Are gone towards Lambeth: there let them remain. [Exeunt. 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. 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 d**h? Tell me, Arundel, died he ere thou cam'st, Or didst thou see my friend to take his d**h? 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 d**h; 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 a**emble 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 d**h; 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 pa** 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 pa** 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 Motimer. 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 d**h. 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, a**ure 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. 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 d**h, 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 a**ociate? 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 Phbus, 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 pa**ionate 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 d**h 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. Rice. God save Queen Isabel and her princely son! Madam, the Mayor and citizens of Bristow, In sign of love and duty to this presence, Present by me this traitor to the state, Spenser, the father to that wanton Spenser, That, like the lawless Catiline of Rome, Revell'd in England's wealth and treasury. Isab. We thank you all. Y. Mor. Your loving care in this Deserveth princely favours and rewards. But where's the king and the other Spenser fled? Rice. Spenser the son, created Earl of Glocester, Is with that smooth-tongu'd scholar Baldock gone, And shipp'd but late for Ireland with the king. Y. Mor. Some whirlwind fetch them back, or sink them all!— [Aside. They shall be started thence, I doubt it not. P. Edw. Shall I not see the king my father yet? Kent. Unhappy Edward, chas'd from England's bounds! [Aside. Sir J. Madam, what resteth? why stand you in a muse? Q. Isab. I rue my lord's ill-fortune: but, alas, Care of my country call'd me to this war! Y. Mor. Madam, have done with care and sad complaint: Your king hath wrong'd your country and himself, And we must seek to right it as we may.— Meanwhile have hence this rebel to the block. E. Spen. Rebel is he that fights against the prince: So fought not they that fought in Edward's right. Y. Mor. Take him away; he prates. [Exeunt Attendants with the elder Spenser. You, Rice ap Howel, Shall do good service to her majesty, Being of countenance in your country here, To follow these rebellious runagates.— We in mean while, madam, must take advice. How Baldock, Spenser, and their complices, May in their fall be follow'd to their end. [i>Exeunt. Enter the Abbot, Monks, KING EDWARD, the younger SPENSER, and BALDOCK (the three latter disguised). Abbot. Have you no doubt, my lord; have you no fear: As silent and as careful we will be To keep your royal person safe with us, Free from suspect, and fell invasion Of such as have your majesty in chase, Yourself, and those your chosen company, As danger of this stormy time requires. K. Edw. Father, thy face should harbour no deceit. O, hadst thou ever been a king, thy heart, Pierc'd deeply with sense of my distress, Could not but take compa**ion of my state! Stately and proud in riches and in train, Whilom I was, powerful and full of pomp: But what is he whom rule and empery Have not in life or d**h made miserable?— Come, Spenser,—come, Baldock,—come, sit down by me; Make trial now of that philosophy That in our famous nurseries of arts Thou s**'dst from Plato and from Aristotle.— Father, this life contemplative is heaven: O, that I might this life in quiet lead! But we, alas, are chas'd!—and you, my friends, Your lives and my dishonour they pursue.— Yet, gentle monks, for treasure, gold, nor fee, Do you betray us and our company. First Monk. Your grace may sit secure, if none but we Do wot of your abode. Y. Spen. Not one alive: but shrewdly I suspect A gloomy fellow in a mead below; 'A gave a long look after us, my lord; And all the land, I know, is up in arms, Arms that pursue our lives with deadly hate. Bald. We were embark'd for Ireland; wretched we, With awkward winds and with sore tempests driven, To fall on shore, and here to pine in fear Of Mortimer and his confederates! K. Edw. Mortimer! who talks of Mortimer? Who wounds me with the name of Mortimer, That bloody man?—Good father, on thy lap Lay I this head, laden with mickle care. O, might I never ope these eyes again, Never again lift up this drooping head, O, never more lift up this dying heart! Y. Spen. Look up, my lord.—Baldock, this drowsiness Betides no good; here even we are betray'd. Enter, with Welsh hooks, RICE AP HOWEL, a Mower, and LEICESTER Mow. Upon my life, these be the men ye seek. Rice. Fellow, enough.—My lord, I pray, be short; A fair commission warrants what we do. Leices. The queen's commission, urg'd by Mortimer: What cannot gallant Mortimer with the queen?— Alas, see where he sits, and hopes unseen T'escape their hands that seek to reave his life! Too true it is, Quem dies vidit veniens superbum, Hunc dies vidit fugiens jacentem. But, Leicester, leave to grow so pa**ionate.— Spenser and Baldock, by no other names, I arrest you of high treason here. Stand not on titles, but obey th' arrest: 'Tis in the name of Isabel the queen.— My lord, why droop you thus? K. Edw. O day, the last of all my bliss on earth! Centre of all misfortune! O my stars, Why do you lour unkindly on a king? Comes Leicester, then, in Isabella's name, To take my life, my company from me? Here, man, rip up this panting breast of mine, And take my heart in rescue of my friends. Rice. Away with them! Y. Spen. It may become thee yet To let us take our farewell of his grace. Abbott. My heart with pity earns to see this sight; A king to bear these words and proud commands! [Aside. K. Edw. Spenser, ah, sweet Spenser, thus, then, must we part? Y. Spen. We must, my lord; so will the angry heavens. K. Edw. Nay, so will hell and cruel Mortimer: The gentle heavens have not to do in this. Bald. My lord, it is in vain to grieve or storm. Here humbly of your grace we take our leaves: Our lots are cast; I fear me, so is thine. K. Edw. In heaven we may, in earth ne'er shall we meet:— And, Leicester, say, what shall become of us? Leices. Your majesty must go to k**ingworth. K. Edw. Must! it is somewhat hard when kings must go. Leices. Here is a litter ready for your grace, That waits your pleasure, and the day grows old. Rice. As good be gone, as stay and be benighted. K. Edw. A litter hast thou? lay me in a hearse, And to the gates of hell convey me hence; Let Pluto's bells ring out my fatal knell, And hags howl for my d**h at Charon's shore; For friends hath Edward none but these, And these must die under a tyrant's sword. Rice. My lord, be going: care not for these; For we shall see them shorter by the heads. K. Edw. Well, that shall be shall be: part we must; Sweet Spenser, gentle Baldock, part we must.— Hence, feigned weeds! unfeigned are my woes.— [Throwing off his disguise. Father, farewell.—Leicester, thou stay'st for me; And go I must.—Life, farewell, with my friends! [Exeunt King Edward and Leicester. Y. Spen. O, is he gone? is noble Edward gone? Parted from hence, never to see us more! Rend, sphere of heaven! and, fire, forsake thy orb! Earth, melt to air! gone is my sovereign, Gone, gone, alas, never to make return! Bald. Spenser, I see our souls are fleeting hence; We are depriv'd the sunshine of our life. Make for a new life, man; throw up thy eyes And heart and hand to heaven's immortal throne; Pay nature's debt with cheerful countenance; Reduce we all our lessons unto this,— To die, sweet Spenser, therefore live we all; Spenser, all live to die, and rise to fall. Rice. Come, come, keep these preachments till you come to the place appointed. You, and such as you are, have made wise work in England. Will your lordships away? Mow. Your lordship I trust will remember me? Rice. Remember thee, fellow! what else? Follow me to the town. [Exeunt. Enter KING EDWARD, LEICESTER, the BISHOP OF WINCHESTER, and TRUSSEL. Leices. Be patient, good my lord, cease to lament; Imagine k**ingworth Castle were your court, And that you lay for pleasure here a space, Not of compulsion or necessity. K. Edw. Leicester, if gentle words might comfort me, Thy speeches long ago had eas'd my sorrows, For kind and loving hast thou always been. The griefs of private men are soon allay'd; But not of kings. The forest deer, being struck, Runs to an herb that closeth up the wounds: But when the imperial lion's flesh is gor'd, He rends and tears it with his wrathful paw, [And], highly scorning that the lowly earth Should drink his blood, mounts up to the air: And so it fares with me, whose dauntless mind Th' ambitious Mortimer would seek to curb, And that unnatural queen, false Isabel, That thus hath pent and mew'd me in a prison For such outrageous pa**ions cloy my soul, As with the wings of rancour and disdain Full oft[ten] am I soaring up to heaven, To plain me to the gods against them both. But when I call to mind I am a king, Methinks I should revenge me of my wrongs, That Mortimer and Isabel have done. But what are kings, when regiment is gone, But perfect shadows in a sunshine day? My nobles rule; I bear the name of king, I wear the crown; but am controll'd by them, By Mortimer, and my unconstant queen, Who spots my nuptial bed with infamy; Whilst I am lodg'd within this cave of care, Where sorrow at my elbow still attends, To company my heart with sad laments, That bleeds within me for this strange exchange. But tell me, must I now resign my crown, To make usurping Mortimer a king? Bish. of Win. Your grace mistakes; it is for England's good, And princely Edward's right, we crave the crown. K. Edw. No, 'tis for Mortimer, not Edward's head For he's a lamb, emcompa**ed by wolves, Which in a moment will abridge his life. But, if proud Mortimer do wear this crown, Heavens turn it to a blaze of quenchless fire! Or, like the snaky wreath of Tisiphon, Engirt the temples of his hateful head! So shall not England's vine be perished, But Edward's name survive, though Edward dies. Leices. My lord, why waste you thus the time away? They stay your answer: will you yield your crown? K. Edw. Ah, Leicester, weigh how hardly I can brook To lose my crown and kingdom without cause; To give ambitious Mortimer my right, That, like a mountain, overwhelms my bliss; In which extreme my mind here murder'd is! But that the heavens appoint I must obey.— Here, take my crown; the life of Edward too: [Taking off the crown. Two kings in England cannot reign at once. But stay a while: let me be king till night, That I may gaze upon this glittering crown; So shall my eyes receive their last content, My head, the latest honour due to it, And jointly both yield up their wished right. Continue ever, thou celestial sun; Let never silent night possess this clime; Stand still, you watches of the element; All times and seasons, rest you at a stay, That Edward may be still fair England's king! But day's bright beams doth vanish fast away, And needs I must resign my wished crown. Inhuman creatures, nurs'd with tiger's milk, Why gape you for your sovereign's overthrow? My diadem, I mean, and guiltless life. See, monsters, see! I'll wear my crown again. [Putting on the crown. What, fear you not the fury of your king?— But, hapless Edward, thou art fondly led; They pa** not for thy frowns as late they did, But seek to make a new-elected king; Which fills my mind with strange despairing thoughts, Which thoughts are martyred with endless torments; And in this torment comfort find I none, But that I feel the crown upon my head; And therefore let me wear it yet a while. Trus. My, lord, the parliament must have present news; And therefore say, will you resign or no? [The king rageth. K. Edw. I'll not resign, but, whilst I live, [be king]. Traitors, be gone, and join you with Mortimer. Elect, conspire, install, do what you will: Their blood and yours shall seal these treacheries. Bish. of Win. This answer we'll return; and so, farewell. [Going with Trussel. Leices. Call them again, my lord, and speak them fair; For, if they go, the prince shall lose his right. K. Edw. Call thou them back; I have no power to speak. Leices. My lord, the king is willing to resign. Bish. of Win. If he be not, let him choose. K. Edw. O, would I might! but heavens and earth conspire To make me miserable. Here, receive my crown. Receive it? no, these innocent hands of mine Shall not be guilty of so foul a crime; He of you all that most desires my blood, And will be call'd the murderer of a king, Take it. What, are you mov'd? pity you me? Then send for unrelenting Mortimer, And Isabel, whose eyes being turn'd to steel Will sooner sparkle fire than shed a tear. Yet stay; for, rather than I'll look on them, Here, here! [Gives the crown.]—Now, sweet God of heaven, Make me despise this transitory pomp, And sit fot aye enthronised in heaven! Come, d**h, and with thy fingers close my eyes, Or, if I live, let me forget myself! Bish. of Win. My lord,— K. Edw. Call me not lord; away, out of my sight! Ah, pardon me! grief makes me lunatic. Let not that Mortimer protect my son; More safety there is in a tiger's jaws Than his embracements. Bear this to the queen, Wet with my tears, and dried again with sighs: [i>Gives a handkerchief. If with the sight thereof she be not mov'd, Return it back, and dip it in my blood. Commend me to my son, and bid him rule Better than I: yet how have I transgress'd, Unless it be with too much clemency? Trus. And thus, most humbly do we take our leave. K. Edw. Farewell. [Exeunt the Bishop of Winchester and Trussel with the crown. I know the next news that they bring Will be my d**h; and welcome shall it be: To wretched men d**h is felicity. Leices. Another post! what news brings he? Enter BERKELEY, who gives a paper to LEICESTER. K. Edw. Such news as I expect.—Come, Berkeley, come, And tell thy message to my naked breast. Berk. My lord, think not a thought so villanous Can harbour in a man of noble birth. To do your highness service and devoir, And save you from your foes, Berkeley would die. Leices. My lord, the council of the queen command That I resign my charge. K. Edw. And who must keep me now? Must you, my lord? Berk. Ay, my most gracious lord; so 'tis decreed. K. Edw. [Taking the paper. By Mortimer, whose name is written here! Well may I rent his name that rends my heart. [Tears it. This poor revenge hath something eas'd my mind: So may his limbs be torn as is this paper! Hear me, immortal Jove, and grant it too! Berk. Your grace must hence with me to Berkeley straight. K. Edw. Whither you will: all places are alike, And every earth is fit for burial. Leices. Favour him, my lord, as much as lieth in you. Berk. Even so betide my soul as I use him! K. Edw. Mine enemy hath pitied my estate, And that's the cause that I am now remov'd. Berk. And thinks your grace that Berkeley will be cruel? K. Edw. I know not; but of this am I a**ur'd, That d**h ends all, and I can die but once.— Leicester, farewell. Leices. Not yet, my lord; I'll bear you on your way. [Exeunt. Enter QUEEN ISABELLA and the younger MORTIMER. Y. Mor. Fair Isabel, now have we our desire; The proud corrupters of the light-brain'd king Have done their homage to the lofty gallows, And he himself lies in captivity. Be rul'd by me, and we will rule the realm: In any case take heed of childish fear, For now we hold an old wolf by the ears, That, if he slip, will seize upon us both, And gripe the sorer, being grip'd himself. Think therefore, madam, that imports us much To erect your son with all the speed we may, And that I be protector over him: For our behoof, 'twill bear the greater sway Whenas a king's name shall be under-writ. Q. Isab. Sweet Mortimer, the life of Isabel, Be thou persuaded that I love thee well; And therefore, so the prince my son be safe, Whom I esteem as dear as these mine eyes, Conclude against his father what thou wilt, And I myself will willingly subscribe. Y. Mor. First would I hear news he were depos'd, And then let me alone to handle him. Enter Messenger. Letters! from whence? Mess. From k**ingworth, my lord? Q. Isab. How fares my lord the king? Mess. In health, madam, but full of pensiveness. Q. Isab. Alas, poor soul, would I could ease his grief! Enter the BISHOP OF WINCHESTER with the crown. Thanks, gentle Winchester.— Sirrah, be gone. [Exit Messenger. Bish. of Win. The king hath willingly resign'd his crown. Q. Isab. O, happy news! send for the prince my son. Bish. of Win. Further, or this letter was seal'd, Lord Berkeley came, So that he now is gone from k**ingworth; And we have heard that Edmund laid a plot To set his brother free; nor more but so. The Lord of Berkeley is so pitiful As Leicester that had charge of him before. Q. Isab. Then let some other be his guardian. Y. Mor. Let me alone; here is the privy-seal,— [Exit the Bish. of Win. Who's there? Call hither, Gurney and Matrevis.— [To Attendants within. To dash the heavy-headed Edmund's drift, Berkeley shall be discharg'd, the king remov'd, And none but we shall know where he lieth. Q. Isab. But, Mortimer, as long as he survives, What safety rests for us or for my son? Y. Mor. Speak, shall he presently be despatch'd and die? Q. Isab. I would he were, so 'twere not by my means! Enter MATREVIS and GURNEY. Y. Mor. Enough.—Matrevis, write a letter presently Unto the Lord of Berkeley from ourself, That he resign the king to thee and Gurney; And, when 'tis done, we will subscribe our name. Mat. It shall be done, my lord. [Writes. Y. Mor. Gurney,— Gur. My lord? Y. Mor. As thou intend'st to rise by Mortimer, Who now makes Fortune's wheel turn as he please, Seek all the means thou canst to make him droop, And neither give him kind word nor good look. Gur. I warrant you, my lord. Y. Mor. And this above the rest: because we hear That Edmund casts to work his liberty, Remove him still from place to place by night, Till at the last he come to k**ingworth, And then from thence to Berkeley back again; And by the way, to make him fret the more, Speak curstly to him; and in any case Let no man comfort him, if he chance to weep, But amplify his grief with bitter words. Mat. Fear not, my lord; we'll do as you command. Y. Mor. So, now away! post thitherwards amain. Q. Isab. Whither goes this letter? to my lord the king? Commend me humbly to his majesty, And tell him that I labour all in vain To ease his grief and work his liberty; And bear him this as witness of my love. [Gives ring. Mat. I will, madam. [Exit with Gurney. Y. Mor. Finely dissembled! do so still, sweet queen. Here comes the young prince with the Earl of Kent. Q. Isab. Something he whispers in his childish ears. Y. Mor. If he have such access unto the prince, Our plots and stratagems will soon be dash'd. Q. Isab. Use Edmund friendly, as if all were well. Enter PRINCE EDWARD, and KENT talking with him. Y. Mor. How fares my honourable Lord of Kent? Kent. In health, sweet Mortimer.—How fares your grace? Q. Isab. Well, if my lord your brother were enlarg'd. Kent. I hear of late he hath depos'd himself. Q. Isab. The more my grief. Y. Mor. And mine. Kent. Ah, they do dissemble! [Aside. Q. Isab. Sweet son, come hither; I must talk with thee. Y. Mor. You, being his uncle and the next of blood, Do look to be protector o'er the prince. Kent. Not I, my lord: who should protect the son, But she that gave him life? I mean the queen. P. Edw. Mother, persuade me not to wear the crown: Let him be king; I am too young to reign. Q. Isab. But be content, seeing 'tis his highness' pleasure. P. Edw. Let me but see him first, and then I will. Kent. Ay, do, sweet nephew. Q. Isab. Brother, you know it is impossible. P. Edw. Why, is he dead? Q. Isab. No, God forbid! Kent. I would those words proceeded from your heart! Y. Mor. Inconstant Edmund, dost thou favour him, That wast a cause of his imprisonment? Kent. The more cause now have I to make amends. Y. Mor. [aside to Q. ISAB.] I tell thee, 'tis not meet that one so false Should come about the person of a prince.— My lord, he hath betray'd the king his brother, And therefore trust him not. P. Edw. But he repents, and sorrows for it now. Q. Isab. Come, son, and go with this gentle lord and me. P. Edw. With you I will, but not with Mortimer. Y. Mor. Why, youngling, 'sdain'st thou so of Mortimer? Then I will carry thee by force away. P. Edw. Help, uncle Kent! Mortimer will wrong me. Q. Isab. Brother Edmund, strive not; we are his friends; Isabel is nearer than the Earl of Kent. Kent. Sister, Edward is my charge; redeem him. Q. Isab. Edward is my son, and I will keep him. Kent. Mortimer shall know that he hath wronged me. Hence will I haste to k**ingworth Castle, And rescue aged Edward from his foes, To be reveng'd on Mortimer and thee. [ Aside. [Exeunt, on the one side, Queen Isabella, Prince Edward and the younger Mortimer; on other other, Kent. Enter MATREVIS, GURNEY, and Soldiers, with KING EDWARD. Mat. My lord, be not pensive; we are your friends: Men are ordain'd to live in misery; Therefore, come; dalliance dangereth our lives. K. Edw. Friends, whither must unhappy Edward go? Will hateful Mortimer appoint no rest? Must I be vexed like the nightly bird, Whose sight is loathsome to all winged fowls? When will the fury of his mind a**uage? When will his heart be satisfied with blood? If mine will serve, unbowel straight this breast, And give my heart to Isabel and him: It is the chiefest mark they level at. _Gur._ Not so, my liege: the queen hath given this charge, To keep your grace in safety: Your pa**ions make your dolours to increase. K. Edw. This usage makes my misery increase. But can my air of life continue long, When all my senses are annoy'd with stench? Within a dungeon England's king is kept, Where I am starv'd for want of sustenance; My daily diet is heart-breaking sobs, That almost rent the closet of my heart: Thus lives old Edward not reliev'd by any, And so must die, though pitied by many. O, water, gentle friends, to cool my thirst, And clear my body from foul excrements! Mat. Here's channel-water, as our charge is given: Sit down, for we'll be barbers to your grace. K. Edw. Traitors, away! what, will you murder me, Of choke your sovereign with puddle-water? Gur. No, but wash your face, and shave away your beard, Lest you be known, and so be rescued. Mat. Why strive you thus? your labour is in vain. K. Edw. The wren may strive against the lion's strength, But all in vain: so vainly do I strive To seek for mercy at a tyrant's hand. [They wash him with puddle-water, and shave his beard away. Immortal powers, that know the painful cares That wait upon my poor distressed soul, O, level all your looks upon these daring men That wrong their liege and sovereign, England's king! O Gaveston, it is for thee that I am wrong'd! For me both thou and both the Spensers died; And for your sakes a thousand wrongs I'll take. The Spensers' ghosts, wherever they remain, Wish well to mine; then, tush, for them I'll die. Mat. 'Twixt theirs and yours shall be no enmity. Come, come, away! Now put the torches out: We'll enter in by darkness to k**ingworth. Gur. How now! who comes there? Enter Kent. Mat. Guard the king sure: it is the Earl of Kent. K. Edw. O gentle brother, help to rescue me! Mat. Keep them asunder; thrust in the king. Kent. Soldiers, let me but talk to him one word. Gur. Lay hands upon the earl for his a**ault. Kent. Lay down your weapons, traitors! yield the king! Mat. Edmund, yield thou thyself, or thou shalt die. Kent. Base villains, wherefore do you gripe me thus? Gur. Bind him, and so convey him to the court. Kent. Where is the court but here? here is the king And I will visit him: why stay you me? Mat. The court is where Lord Mortimer remains: Thither shall your honour go; and so, farewell. [Exeunt Matrevis and Gurney with King Edward. Kent. O, miserable is that common-weal, Where lords keep courts, and kings are lock'd in prison! First Sold. Wherefore stay we? on, sirs, to the court! Kent. Ay, lead me whither you will, even to my d**h, Seeing that my brother cannot be releas'd. [Exeunt. Y. Mor. The king must die, or Mortimer goes down; The commons now begin to pity him: Yet he that is the cause of Edward's d**h, Is sure to pay for it when his son's of age; And therefore will I do it cunningly. This letter, written by a friend of ours, Contains his d**h, yet bids then save his life; [Reads. Edwardum occidere nolite timere, bonum est, Fear not to k** the king, 'tis good he die: But read it thus, and that's another sense; Edwardum occidere nolite, timere bonum est, k** not the king, 'tis good to fear the worst. But read it thus, and that's another sense; Edwardum occidere nolite, timere bonum est, k** not the king, 'tis good to fear the worst. Unpointed as it is, thus shall it go. That, being dead, if it chance to be found, Matrevis and the rest may bear the blame, And we be quit that caus'd it to be done. Within this room is lock'd the messenger That shall convey it, and perform the rest; And, by a secret token that he bears, Shall he be murder'd when the deed is done.— Lightborn, come forth! [Enter Lightborn. Art thou so resolute as thou wast? Light. What else, my lord? and far more resolute. Y. Mor. And hast thou cast how to accomplish it? Light. Ay, ay; and none shall know which way he died. Y. Mor. But at his looks, Lightborn, thou wilt relent. Light. Relent! ha, ha! I use much to relent. Y. Mor. Well, do it bravely, and be secret. Light. You shall not need to give instructions; 'Tis not the first time I have k**'d a man: I learn'd in Naples how to poison flowers; To strangle with a lawn thrust down the throat; To pierce the wind pipe with a needle's point; Or, whilst one is asleep, to take a quill, And blow a little powder in his ears; Or open his mouth, and pour quick-silver down. But yet I have a braver way than these. Y. Mor. What's that? Light. Nay, you shall pardon me; none shall know my tricks. Y. Mor. I care not how it is, so it be not spied. Deliver this to Gurney and Matrevis: [Gives letter.] At every ten-mile end thou hast a horse: Take this [Gives money]: away, and never see me more! Light. No? Y. Mor. No; unless thou bring me news of Edward's d**h. Light. That will I quickly do. Farewell, my lord. [Exit. Y. Mor. The prince I rule, the queen do I command, And with a lowly congé to the ground The proudest lords salute me as I pa**; I seal, I cancel, I do what I will. Fear'd am I more than lov'd;—let me be fear'd, And, when I frown, make all the court look pale. I view the prince with Aristarchus' eyes, Whose looks were as a breeching to a boy. They thrust upon me the protectorship, And sue to me for that that I desire; While at the council-table, grave enough, And not unlike a bashful puritan, First I complain of imbecility, Saying it is onus quam gravissimum; Till, being interrupted by my friends, Suscepi that provinciam, as they term it; And, to conclude, I am Protector now. Now all is sure: the queen and Mortimer Shall rule the realm, the king; and none rule us. Mine enemies will I plague, my friends advance; And what I list command who dare control? Major sum quàm cui possit fortuna nocere: And that this be the coronation-day, It pleaseth me and Isabel the queen. [Trumpets within.) The trumpets sound; I must go take my place. Enter KING EDWARD THE THIRD, QUEEN ISABELLA, the ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY, Champion, and Nobles. Archb. of Cant. Long live King Edward, by the grace of God King of England and Lord of Ireland! Cham. If any Christian, Heathen, Turk, or Jew, Dares but affirm that Edward's not true king, And will avouch his saying with the sword, I am the Champion that will combat him. Y. Mor. None comes: sound, trumpets! [Trumpets. K. Edw. Third. Champion, here's to thee. [Gives purse. Q. Isab. Lord Mortimer, now take him to your charge. Enter Soldiers with KENT prisoner. Y. Mor. What traitor have we there with blades and bills? First Sold. Edmund the Earl of Kent. K. Edw. Third. What hath he done? First Sold. 'A would have taken the king away perforce, As we were bringing him to k**ingworth. Y. Mor. Did you attempt his rescue, Edmund? speak. Kent. Mortimer, I did: he is our king, And thou compell'st this prince to wear the crown. Y. Mor. Strike off his head: he shall have martial law. Kent. Strike off my head! base traitor, I defy thee! K. Edw. Third. My lord, he is my uncle, and shall live. Y. Mor. My lord, he is your enemy, and shall die. Kent. Stay, villains! K. Edw. Third. Sweet mother, if I cannot pardon him, Entreat my Lord Protector for his life. Q. Isab. Son, be content: I dare not speak a word. K. Edw. Third. Nor I; and yet methinks I should command: But, seeing I cannot, I'll entreat for him.— My lord, if you will let my uncle live, I will requite it when I come to age. Y. Mor. 'Tis for your highness' good and for the realm's.— How often shall I bid you bear him hence? Kent. Art thou king? must I die at thy command? Y. Mor. At our command.—Once more, away with him! Kent. Let me but stay and speak; I will not go: Either my brother or his son is king, And none of both them thirst for Edmund's blood: And therefore, soldiers, whither will you hale me? Soldiers hale Kent away, and carry him to be beheaded. K. Edw. Third. What safety may I look for at his hands, If that my uncle shall be murder'd thus? Q. Isab. Fear not, sweet boy; I'll guard thee from thy foes: Had Edmund liv'd, he would have sought thy d**h. Come, son, we'll ride a-hunting in the park. K. Edw. Third. And shall my uncle Edmund ride with us? Q. Isab. He is a traitor; think not on him: come. [Exeunt. Enter MATREVIS and GURNEY. Mat. Gurney, I wonder the king dies not, Being in a vault up to the knees in water, To which the channels of the castle run, From whence a damp continually ariseth, That were enough to poison any man, Much more a king, brought up so tenderly. Gur. And so do I, Matrevis: yesternight I open'd but the door to throw him meat, And I was almost stifled with the savour. Mat. He hath a body able to endure More than we can inflict: and therefore now Let us a**ail his mind another while. Gur. Send for him out thence, and I will anger him. Mat. But stay; who's this? Enter LIGHTBORN. Light. My Lord Protector greets you. [Gives letter. Gur. What's there? I know not how to construe it. Mat. Gurney, it was left unpointed for the nonce; Edwardum occidere nolite timere, That's his meaning. Light. Know you this token? I must have the king. [Gives token. Mat. Ay, stay a while; thou shalt have answer straight.— This villain's sent to make away the king. Gur. I thought as much. Mat. And, when the murder's done, See how he must be handled for his labour,— Pereat iste! Let him have the king; What else?—Here is the keys, this is the lake: Do as you are commanded by my lord. Light. I know what I must do. Get you away: Yet be not far off; I shall need your help: See that in the next room I have a fire, And get me a spit, and let it be red-hot. Mat. Very well. Gur. Need you anything besides? Light. What else? a table and a feather-bed. Gur. That's all? Light. Ay, ay: so, when I call you, bring it in. Mat. Fear not thou that. Gur. Here's a light to go into the dungeon. [Gives light to Lightborn, and then exit with Matrevis. Light. So, now. Must I about this gear: ne'er was there any So finely handled as this king shall be.— Foh, here's a place indeed with all my heart! K. Edw. Who's there? what light is that? wherefore com'st thou? Light. To comfort you, and bring you joyful news. K. Edw. Small comfort finds poor Edward in thy looks: Villain, I know thou com'st to murder me. Light. To murder you, my most gracious lord? Far is it from my heart to do you harm. The queen sent me to see how you were us'd, For she relents at this your misery: And what eye can refrain from shedding tears, To see a king in this most piteous state? K. Edw. Weep'st thou already? list a while to me, And then thy heart, were it as Gurney's is, Or as Matrevis', hewn from the Caucasus, Yet will it melt ere I have done my tale. This dungeon where they keep me is the sink Wherein the filth of all the castle falls. Light. O villains! K. Edw. And there, in mire and puddle, have I stood This ten days' space; and, lest that I should sleep, One plays continually upon a drum; They give me bread and water, being a king; So that, for want of sleep and sustenance, My mind's distemper'd, and my body's numb'd, And whether I have limbs or no I know not. O, would my blood dropp'd out from every vein, As doth this water from my tatter'd robes! Tell Isabel the queen, I look'd not thus, When for her sake I ran at tilt in France, And there unhors'd the Duke of Cleremont. Light. O, speak no more, my lord! this breaks my heart. Lie on this bed, and rest yourself a while. K. Edw. These looks of thine can harbour naught but d**h; I see my tragedy written in thy brows. Yet stay a while; forbear thy bloody hand, And let me see the stroke before it comes, That even then when I shall lose my life, My mind may be more steadfast on my God. Light. What means your highness to mistrust me thus? K. Edw. What mean'st thou to dissemble with me thus? Light. These hands were never stain'd with innocent blood, Nor shall they now be tainted with a king's. K. Edw. Forgive my thought for having such a thought. One j**el have I left; receive thou this: [Gives j**el. Still fear I, and I know not what's the cause, But every joint shakes as I give it thee. O, if thou harbour'st murder in thy heart, Let this gift change thy mind, and save thy soul! Know that I am a king: O, at that name I feel a hell of grief! where is my crown? Gone, gone! and do I [still] remain alive? Light. You're overwatch'd, my lord: lie down and rest. K. Edw. But that grief keeps me waking, I should sleep; For not these ten days have these eye-lids clos'd. Now, as I speak, they fall; and yet with fear Open again. O, wherefore sitt'st thou here? Light. If you mistrust me, I'll be gone, my lord. K. Edw. No, no; for, if thou mean'st to murder me, Thou wilt return again; and therefore stay. [Sleeps. Light. He sleeps. K. Edw. [waking] O, let me not die yet! O, stay a while! Light. How now, my lord! K. Edw. Something still buzzeth in mine ears, And tells me, if I sleep, I never wake: This fear is that which makes me tremble thus; And therefore tell me, wherefore art thou come? Light. To rid thee of thy life.—Matrevis, come! Enter MATREVIS and GURNEY. K. Edw. I am too weak and feeble to resist.— Assist me, sweet God, and receive my soul! Light. Run for the table. K. Edw. O, spare me, or despatch me in a trice! [Matrevis brings in a table. King Edward is murdered by holding him down on the bed with the table, and stamping on it. Light. So, lay the table down, and stamp on it, But not too hard, lest that you bruise his body. Mat. I fear me that this cry will raise the town, And therefore let us take horse and away. Light. Tell me, sirs, was it not bravely done? Gur. Excellent well: take this for thy reward. [Stabs Lightborn, who dies. Come, let us cast the body in the moat, And bear the king's to Mortimer our lord: Away! [Exeunt with the bodies. Enter the younger MORTIMER and MATREVIS. Y. Mor. Is't done, Matrevis, and the murderer dead? Mat. Ay, my good lord: I would it were undone! Y. Mor. Matrevis, if thou now grow'st penitent, I'll be thy ghostly father; therefore choose, Whether thou wilt be secret in this, Or else die by the hand of Mortimer. Mat. Gurney, my lord, is fled, and will, I fear, Betray us both; therefore let me fly. Y. Mor. Fly to the savages! Mat. I humbly thank your honour. [Exit. Y. Mor. As for myself, I stand as Jove's huge tree, And others are but shrubs compar'd to me: All tremble at my name, and I fear none: Let's see who dare impeach me for his d**h! Enter QUEEN ISABELLA. Q. Isab. Ah, Mortimer, the king my son hath news, His father's dead, and we have murder'd him! Y. Mor. What if he have? the king is yet a child. Q. Isab. Ay, but he tears his hair, and wrings his hands, And vows to be reveng'd upon us both. Into the council-chamber he is gone, To crave the aid and succour of his peers. Ay me, see where he comes, and they with him! Now, Mortimer, begins our tragedy. Enter KING EDWARD THE THIRD, Lords, and Attendants. First Lord. Fear not, my lord; know that you are a king. K. Edw. Third. Villain!— Y. Mor. Ho, now, my lord! K. Edw. Third. Think not that I am frighted with thy words: My father's murder'd through thy treachery; And thou shalt die, and on his mournful hearse Thy hateful and accursed head shall lie, To witness to the world that by thy means His kingly body was too soon interr'd. Q. Isab. Weep not, sweet son. K. Edw. Third. Forbid not me to weep; he was my father; And had you lov'd him half so well as I, You could not bear his d**h thus patiently: But you, I fear, conspir'd with Mortimer. First Lord. Why speak you not unto my lord the king? Y. Mor. Because I think scorn to be accus'd. Who is the man dares say I murder'd him? K. Edw. Third. Traitor, in me my loving father speaks, And plainly saith, 'twas thou that murder'dst him. Y. Mor. But hath your grace no other proof than this? K. Edw. Third. Yes, if this be the hand of Mortimer. [Showing letter. Y. Mor. False Gurney hath betray'd me and himself. Aside to Queen Isabella. Q. Isab. I fear'd as much: murder can not be hid. Y. Mor. It is my hand; what gather you by this? K. Edw. Third. That thither thou didst send a murderer. Y. Mor. What murderer? bring forth the man I sent. K. Edw. Third. Ah, Mortimer, thou know'st that he is slain! And so shalt thou be too.—Why stays he here? Bring him unto a hurdle, drag him forth; Hang him, I say, and set his quarters up: And bring his head back presently to me. Q. Isab. For my sake, sweet son, pity Mortimer! Y. Mor. Madam, entreat not: I will rather die Than sue for life unto a paltry boy. K. Edw. Third. Hence with the traitor, with the murderer! Y. Mor. Base Fortune, now I see, that in thy wheel There is a point, to which when men aspire, They tumble headlong down: that point I touch'd, And, seeing there was no place to mount up higher, Why should I grieve at my declining fall?— Farewell, fair queen: weep not for Mortimer, That scorns the world, and, as a traveller, Goes to discover countries yet unknown. K. Edw. Third. What, suffer you the traitor to delay? [Exit the younger Mortimer with First Lord and some of the Attendants. Q. Isab. As thou receivest thy life from me, Spill not the blood of gentle Mortimer! K. Edw. Third. This argues that you spilt my father's blood, Else would you not entreat for Mortimer. Q. Isab. I spill his blood! no. K. Edw. Third. Ay, madam, you; for so the rumour runs. Q. Isab. That rumour is untrue: for loving thee, Is this report rais'd on poor Isabel. K. Edw. Third. I do not think her so unnatural. Sec. Lord. My lord, I fear me it will prove too true. K. Edw. Third. Mother, you are suspected for his d**h And therefore we commit you to the Tower, Till further trial may be made thereof. If you be guilty, though I be your son, Think not to find me slack or pitiful. Q. Isab. Nay, to my d**h; for too long have I liv'd, Whenas my son thinks to abridge my days. K. Edw. Third. Away with her! her words enforce these tears, And I shall pity her, if she speak again. Q. Isab. Shall I not mourn for my beloved lord? And with the rest accompany him to his grave. Sec. Lord. Thus, madam, 'tis the king's will you shall hence. Q. Isab. He hath forgotten me: stay; I am his mother. Sec. Lord. That boots not; therefore, gentle madam, go. Q. Isab. Then come, sweet d**h, and rid me of this grief! Exit with Second Lord and some of the Attendants. Re-enter First Lord, with the head of the younger MORTIMER. First Lord. My lord, here is the head of Mortimer. K. Edw. Third. Go fetch my father's hearse, where it shall lie; And bring my funeral robes. [Exeunt Attendants. Accursed head, Could I have rul'd thee then, as I do now, Thou hadst not hatch'd this monstrous treachery!— Here comes the hearse: help me to mourn, my lords. Re-enter Attendants, with the hearse and funeral robes. Sweet father, here unto thy murder'd ghost I offer up the wicked traitor's head; And let these tears, distilling from mine eyes, Be witness of my grief and innocency. Exeunt.