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From out a window laugh at such as we,
And flout our train, and jest at our attire.
Uncle, 'tis this makes me impatient.


E. Mor. But, nephew, now you see the king is changed. Y. Mor. Then so am I, and live to do him service: But whilst 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.




Bald. 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;
Because the king and he are enemies.
Baldock, learn this of me, a factious lord
Shall hardly do himself good, much less us;
But he that hath the favour of a king,
May with one word advance us while we live :
The liberal Earl of Cornwall is the man
On whose good fortune Spencer's hope depends.
Bald. What, mean you then to be his follower?
Y. Spen. No, his companion; for he loves me well,
And would have once preferred me to the king.

Bald. But he is banished; there's small hope of him. Y. Spen. I, for a while; but, Baldock, mark the end. A friend of mine told me in secresy

1 Scene: a hall in Gloucester's mansion.


That he's repealed, and sent for back again;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
It is about her lover Gaveston.

Bald. 'Tis like enough; for since he was exiled
She neither walks abroad, nor comes in sight.
But I had thought the match had been broke off,
And that his banishment had changed her mind.

Y. Spen. Our lady's first love is not wavering;
My life for thine she will have Gaveston.

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 cloak, faced before with serge,

And smelling to a nosegay all the day,

Or holding of a napkin in your hand,

Or saying a long grace at a table's end,

Or making low legs to a nobleman,

Or looking downward with your eyelids close,

And saying, "Truly, an't may please your honour,"
Can get you any favour with great men ;

You must be proud, bold, pleasant, resolute,
And now and then stab, as occasion serves.


Bald. Spencer, thou know'st I hate such formal toys, And use them but of mere hypocrisy.

Mine old lord while he lived was so precise,

That he would take exceptions at my buttons,

And being like pins' heads, blame me for the bigness;

Which made me curate-like in mine attire,
Though inwardly licentious enough,

And apt for any kind of villainy.

I am none of these common pedants, I,

That cannot speak without propterea quod.

Y. Spen. But one of those that saith, quandoquidem, And hath a special gift to form a verb.

Bald. Leave off this jesting, here my lady comes.

Enter the Lady.

Lady. The grief for his exile was not so much,


As is the joy of his returning home.
This letter came from my sweet Gaveston :
What need'st thou, love, thus to excuse thyself?
I know thou could'st not come and visit me:
I will not long be from thee, though I die.
This argues the entire love of my lord;
When I forsake thee, death seize on my heart :
But stay1 thee here where Gaveston shall sleep.
Now to the letter of my lord the king.-




He wills me to repair unto the court,
And meet my Gaveston? why do I stay,
Seeing that he talks thus of my marriage-day?
Who's there? Baldock !


See that my coach be ready, I must hence.

Bald. It shall be done, madam.


Lady. And meet me at the park-pale presently.

1 So ed. 1612.-Omitted in ed. 1598.

Spencer, stay you and bear me company,

For I have joyful news to tell thee of;

My lord of Cornwall is a coming over,

And will be at the court as soon as we.

Spen. I knew the king would have him home again. Lady. If all things sort out, as I hope they will, Thy service, Spencer, shall be thought upon. Spen. I humbly thank your ladyship.

Lady. Come, lead the way; I long till I am there.





Edw. The wind is good, I wonder why he stays;

I fear me he is wrecked upon the sea.

Queen. Look, Lancaster, how passionate he is,

And still his mind runs on his minion!

Lan. My lord.

Edw. How now! what news? is Gaveston arrived?

Y. Mor. Nothing but Gaveston! what means your


You have matters of more weight to think upon;

The King of France sets foot in Normandy.

Edw. A trifle! we'll expel him when we please.

But tell me, Mortimer, what's thy device
Against the stately triumph we decreed?

1 Scene: before Tynemouth Castle.

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