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Make England's civil towns huge heaps of stones,
War. A desperate and unnatural resolution!
St. George for England, and the barons' right. Edw. St. George for England, and King Edward's [Alarums. Exeunt.
Re-enter EDWARD and his followers, with the Barons and KENT, captives.
Edw. Now, lusty lords, now, not by chance of war,
Vailed is your pride; methinks you hang the heads,
Kent. Brother, in regard of thee, and of thy land,
Did they remove that flatterer from thy throne.
Edw. So, sir, you have spoke; away, avoid our
Accursed wretches, was't in regard of us,
When we had sent our messenger to request
For which thy head shall overlook the rest,
War. Tyrant, I scorn thy threats and menaces,
Lan. The worst is death, and better die to live
Edw. Away with them, my lord of Winchester!
War. Farewell, vain world!
Lan. Sweet Mortimer, farewell.
Y. Mor. England, unkind to thy nobility,
Groan for this grief, behold how thou art maimed !
Edw. Go, take that haughty Mortimer to the Tower, There see him safe bestowed; and for the rest, Do speedy execution on them all.
Y. Mor. What, Mortimer! can ragged stony walls
No, Edward, England's scourge, it may not be,
[The captive Barons are led off.
Edw. Sound drums and trumpets! March with me,
Edward this day hath crowned him king anew.
[Exeunt all except YOUNG
SPENCER, LEVUNE, and
Y. Spen. Levune, the trust that we repose in thee,
Begets the quiet of King Edward's land.
To Isabel, the queen, that now in France
Levune. That's it these barons and the subtle queen Long levelled 2 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 3 so
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.
2 Old eds. "leuied." 3 Old eds. "claps close."
ACT THE FOURTH.
Enter 1 KENT.
Kent. Fair blows the wind for France; blow gentle
Till Edmund be arrived for England's good!
A brother? no, a butcher of thy friends!
Proud Edward, dost thou banish me thy presence?
Thy sweet escape; stand gracious, gloomy night,
Enter YOUNG MORTIMER, disguised.
Y. Mor. Holla! who walketh there?
Is't you, my lord?
Kent. Mortimer, 'tis I;
But hath thy portion wrought so happily?
1 Scene: London, near the Tower.
Y. Mor. It hath, my lord; the warders all asleep, I thank them, gave me leave to pass in peace.
But hath your grace got shipping unto France?
Kent. Fear it not.
Enter1 the QUEEN and her Son.
Queen. Ah, boy! our friends do fail us all in France :
Prince. Madam, return to England,
Queen. Ah, boy, thou art deceived, at least in this,
Whither, oh! whither dost thou bend thy steps?
Enter SIR JOHN of Hainault.
Sir J. Madam, what cheer?
Queen. 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
1 Scene: Paris.
* So eds. 1598, 1622.-Ed. 1612 "goe."