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LaN. And so will I, and then, my lord, farewell. Y. MoR. The idle triumphs, masks, lascivious shows, And prodigal gifts bestow'd on Gaveston, Have drawn thy treasury dry, and made thee weak; The murmuring commons, overstretched, break. LAN. Look for rebellion, look to be depos'd; Thy garrisons are beaten out of France, And, lame and poor, lie groaning at the gates. The wild Oneyl, with swarms of Irish kerns, Lives uncontroll'd within the English pale. Unto the walls of York the Scots make road, And unresisted draw away rich spoils. Y. MoR. The haughty Dane commands the narrow seas, While in the harbour ride thy ships unrigg’d. LAN. What foreign prince sends thee embassadors? Y. MoR. Who loves thee, but a sort of flatterers ? LAN. Thy gentle queen, sole sister to Valois, Complains that thou hast left her all forlorn. Y. MoR. Thy court is naked, being bereft of those That make a king seem glorious to the world; I mean the peers, whom thou shouldst dearly love: Libels are cast against thee in the street: Ballads and rhymes made of thy overthrow. LAN. The Northern borderers seeing their houses burnt, Their wives and children slain, run up and down, Cursing the name of thee and Gaveston.
Y. MoR. When wert thou in the field with banners spread 2 But once : and then thy soldiers march'd like players, With garish robes, not armour; and thyself, Bedaubed with gold, rode laughing at the rest, Nodding and shaking of thy spangled crest, Where women's favours hung like labels down. LAN. And thereof came it, that the fleering Scots, To England's high disgrace, have made this jig; Maids of England, sore may you mourn, For your lemans you have lost at Bunnocksbourn, With a heave and a ho. What weened the king of England, So soon to have won Scotland, With a rom below 2 Y. MoR. Wigmore shall fly, to set my uncle free. LAN. And when 'tis gone, our swords shall purchase more. If ye be mov’d, revenge it if you can; Look next to see us with our ensigns spread. [Ereunt Nobles. Edw, My swelling heart with very anger breaks! How oft have I been baited by these peers, And dare not be revenged, for their pow'r is great! Yet, shall the crowing of these cockerels Affright a lion ? Edward, unfold thy paws, And let their lives' blood slake thy fury's hunger.
If I be cruel and grow tyrannous,
peers, When I thy brother am rejected thus. [Erit. Edw. Away! poor Gaveston, that has no friend but me:
Do what they can, we'll live in Tinmouth here,
Edw. Aye, and it is likewise thought you favour them.
Queen. Thus do you still suspect me without cause ?
Lady. Sweet uncle 1 speak more kindly to the
GA v. My lord, dissemble with her, speak her fair. Edw. Pardon me, sweet, I had forgot myself. Queen. Your pardon is quickly got of Isabel. Edw. The younger Mortimer is grown so brave, That to my face he threatens civil wars. GA v. Why do you not commit him to the Tower! Edw. I dare not, for the people love him well. Gav. Why then we'll have him privily made away. Edw. Would Lancaster and he had both carous! A bowl of poison to each other's health ! But let them go, and tell me what are these. Lady. Two of my father's servants whilst heliv'dMay't please your grace to entertain them now. EDw. Tell me, where wast thou born ? What is thine arms ? Bald. My name is Baldock, and my gentry I fetch from Oxford, not from heraldry. Edw. The fitter art thou, Baldock, for my turn. Wait on me, and I'll see thou shalt not want. Bald. I humbly thank your majesty. EDw. Knowest thou him, Gaveston 2 Gav. Aye, my lord; his name is Spencer, he is well allied ; For my sake, let him wait upon your grace; Scarce shall you find a man of more desert. Edw. Then, Spencer, wait upon me, for his sake I'll grace thee with a higher style e'er long. Y. SPEN. No greater titles happen unto me,
Than to be favoured of your majesty.
Enter LAN castER, MoRTIMER, WAR wick, Pem-