And dusty 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 those traitors in the field.
Ah, nothing grieves me, but my little boy
Is thus misled to countenance their ills.
Come, friends, to Bristol, there to make us strong;
And, winds, as equal be to bring them in,
you injurious were to bear them forth! [Exeunt.
Enter the QUEEN, her SON, KENT, MORTIMER, and SIR JOHN.
QUEEN. Now, lords, our loving friends and coun-
trymen,
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 glave
In civil broils make kin and countrymen
Slaughter themselves in others, and their sides
With their own weapons gore! 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,
Ye must not grow so passionate in speeches.
Lord's, sith that we are by suff'rance of heav'n,
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 wreak it with the sword;
That England's queen in peace may repossess
Her dignities and honours: and withal
We may remove those flatterers from the king,
That havock England's wealth and treasury.
SIR J. Sound trumpets, my lord, and forward let
Edward will think we come to flatter him.
KENT. I would he never had been flatter'd more! [Exeunt.
Enter the KING, BALDOCK, and Young SPENCER, flying about the stage.
Y. SPEN. Fly, fly, my lord! the queen is overstrong;
Her friends do multiply, and your's do fail.
Shape we our course to Ireland, there to breathe.
EDW. What! was I born to fly and run away,
And leave the Mortimers conquerors behind?
Give me my horse, 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 alone, with 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; Bristol to Longshank's blood
Is false; be not found single for suspect:
Proud Mortimer pries near into thy walks.
Enter the QUEEN, MORTIMER, the Young PRINCE,
and Sir JOHN of HENAULT.
QUEEN. Successful battle gives the God of kings
To them that fight in right, and fear his 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 unfortunate,
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?
PRINCE. Tell me, good uncle, what Edward do
KENT. Nephew, your father; I dare not call him king.
Mon. My lord of Kent, what needs these ques
"Tis not in her controulment, nor in ours,
But as the realm and parliament shall please,
So shall your brother be disposed of.
[Aside to the Queen. I like not this relenting mood in Edmund. Madam, 'tis good to look to him betimes. QUEEN. My lord, the mayor of Bristol knows our mind.
Y. MOR. Yea, madam, and they 'scape not easily That fled the field.
QUEEN. Baldock is with the king,
A goodly chancellor, is he not my lord?
SIR J. So are the Spencers, the father, and the
KENT. This Edward is the ruin of the realm.
Enter RICE AP HOWELL, and the MAYOR of BRISTOL, with Old SPENCER.
RICE. God save queen Isabel, and her princely
Madam, the mayor and citizens of Bristol,
In sign of love and duty to this presence,
Present by me this traitor to the state,
Spencer, the father to that wanton Spencer,
That like the lawless Catiline of Rome,
Revell'd in England's wealth and treasury.
QUEEN. We thank you all.
Y. MOR. Your loving care in this
Deserveth princely favours and rewards.
But where's the king and the other Spencer fled?
RICE. Spencer the son, created earl of Glou'ster, 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
They shall be started thence, I doubt it not. PRINCE. Shall I not see the king my father yet?
KENT. Unhappy Edward, chas'd from England's bounds.
SIR J. Madam, what resteth, why stand ye in a
QUEEN. 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.
O. SPEN. Rebel is he that fights against the prince;
|