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And running in the likeness of an hart,
Enter the King, LANCASTER, MORTIMER, senior,
MORTIMER, junior, EDMUND Earl of Kent, Guy
Edw. Lancaster !
E. Mor. If you love us, my lord, hate Gaveston.
[Aside. Edw. Well, Mortimer, I'll make thee rue these
I will have Gaveston ; and you shall know
(grant. — Edw. Aye, yours; and therefore I would wish you 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 brainsick king, And henceforth parley with our naked swords. E. Mor. Wiltshire hath men enough to save our 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 Nobles. Edw. I cannot brook these haughty menaces ; Am I a king, and must be over-ruled ? 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. Edw. What, Gaveston ! welcome-Kiss not my
handEmbrace me, Gaveston, as I do thee. Why should'st thou kneel ? know'st thou not who I Thy friend, thyself, another Gaveston ! Not Hylas was more mourned 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.
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'erwhelin 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.
Edw. Cease, brother: for I cannot brook these words.
Gav. It shall suffice me to enjoy your love,
Enter the BISHOP OF COVENTRY.
Edw. Whither goes my lord of Coventry so fast ?
Bish. To celebrate your father's exequies. But is that wicked Gaveston returned
Edw. Aye, priest, and lives to be revenged on thee, That wert the only cause of his exile.
Gav. 'Tis true; and but for reverence of these robes, Thou should'st not plod one foot beyond this place.
Bish. I did no more than I was bound to do;
Gav. Saving your reverence, you must pardon me.
Edw. Throw off his golden mitre, rend his stole, And in the channel christen him anew.
Kent. Ah, 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 revenged on him for my exile.
Erd. 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 sball to prison, and there die in bolts. Edw. Aye, to the Tower, the Fleet, or where thou
Edw. But in the meantime, Gaveston, away,
Gav. What should a priest do with so fair a liouse ? A prison may best beseem his holiness. [Exeunt.
SCENE II. Enter both the MORTIMERS, 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 ?