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But how now,
As for the multitude, they are but sparks,
what are these?
Enter three poor Men. Men. Such as desire your worship's service. Gav. What canst thou do? 1 Man. I can ride. Gav. But I have no horse. What art thou ? 2 Man. A traveller.
Gav, Let me see-thou wouldst do well To wait at my trencher, and tell me lies at dinner.
time; And as I like your discoursing, I'll have you. And what art thou ? 3 Man. A soldier, that hath serv'd against the
Scot. Gav. Why there are hospitals for such as you; I have no war, and therefore, sir, be gone.
3 Man. Farewell, and perish by a soldier's hand, That would'st reward them with an hospital.
Gav. Aye, aye, these words of his move me as much As if a goose would play the porcupine, And dart her plumes, thinking to pierce my breast. But yet it is no pain to speak men fair; I'll flatter these, and make them live in hope. Aside You know that I came lately out of France, And yet I have not view'd my lord the king; If I speed well, I'll entertain you all.
OMNEs. We thank your worship.
• In the old editions of this play we read, My lord here comes, &c. This reading is evidently incorrect, and we have, therefore, ventured on the above emendation.
From the parliament. I'll stand aside.
MORTIMER, junior, EDMUND EARL of Kent,
E. Mor. If you love us, my lord, hate Gaveston. Gay. That villain Mortimer, I'll be his death !
(Aside. Y. Mor. Mine uncle here, this earl, and I myself, Were sworn unto your father at his death, That he should ne'er return into the realm : And know, my lord, e'er I will break my oath, This sword of mine, that should offend your foes, Shall sleep within the scabbard at thy need, And underneath thy banners march who will, For Mortimer will hang his armour up. Gav, Mort dieu !
[Aside. Edw. Well, Mortimer, I'll make thee rue these
What danger 'tis to stand against your king.
War. Oh, our heads!
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,
heads. War. All Warwickshire will love 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 should sit, To float in blood; and at thy wanton head, The glozing head of thy base minion thrown.
(Eseunt Nobles. Edw. I cannot brook these haughty menaces : Am I a king, and must be over-rul'd ? Brother, display my ensigns in the fields ; 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:
Gav. And since I went from hence, no soul in hell
* Gaveston, in the old editions.