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Arun. Yea, my good lord, for Gaveston is dead.
Or didst thou see my friend to take his death?
I did your highness' message to them all;
Unto your highness, and to bring him back.
Edw. And tell me, would the rebels deny me that? Y. Spen. Proud recreants!
Edw. Yea, Spencer, traitors all.
Arun. I found them at the first inexorable;
The Earl of Warwick would not bide the hearing,
I will this undertake, to have him hence,
Edw. Well, and how fortunes [it] that he came not? Y. Spen. Some treason, or some villany, was the cause. Arun. The Earl of Warwick seized him on his way; For being delivered 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 death; and in a trench
Y. Spen. A bloody part, flatly 'gainst law of arms. 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 unrevenged murder your friends! Advance your standard, Edward, in the field, And march to fire them from their starting holes.
Edw. By earth, the common mother of us all,
Y. Spen. My Lord, here is a messenger from the
Desires access unto your majesty.
Edw. Admit him near.
Enter the Herald from the Barons, with his coat of
Her. Long live King Edward, England's lawful lord! Edw. So wish not they, I wis, that sent thee hither. Thou com'st from Mortimer and his complices, A ranker rout 2 of rebels never was.
Well, say thy message.
Her. The barons up in arms, by me salute
You will this grief have ease and remedy,
That deads the royal vine, whose golden leaves 3
And have old servitors in high esteem,
1 Ed. 1598 "heres is."- Ed. 1612, 1622, "heres."
3 So ed. 1612.-Ed. 1598 “leave."
This granted, they, their honours, and their lives,
Y. Spen. Ah, traitors! will they still display their
Edw. Away, tarry no answer, but be gone!
Spencer from me.-Now get thee to thy lords,
Enter the KING, OLD SPENCER, YOUNG SPENCER, and the Noblemen of the KING's side.
Edw. Why do we sound retreat? upon them, lords! This day I shall pour 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. O. Spen. 'Tis not amiss, my liege, for either part To breathe awhile; our men, with sweat and dust
All choked well near, begin to faint for heat;
Y. Spen. Here come the rebels.
Enter YOUNG MORTIMER, LANCASTER, WARWICK, PEMBROKE, &c.
E. 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
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,1
For they'll betray thee, traitors as they are.
Y. Spen. Traitor on thy face, rebellious Lancaster ! Pem. Away, base upstart, bravest thou nobles thus ? 20 O. Spen. A noble attempt, and honourable deed, Is it not, trow ye, to assemble aid,
And levy arms against your lawful king!
Edw. For which ere long their heads shall satisfy, To 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?
Edw. I, traitors all, rather than thus be braved,
2 So ed. 1612.-Ed. 1589 "It is."