E. Mor. Not I, against my nephew. Pem. Fear not; the queen's words cannot alter him.

War. No? Do but mark how earnestly she pleads!

Lan. And see how coldly his looks make denial! War. She smiles: now, for my life, his mind is chang'd!

Lan. I'll rather lose his friendship, I, than grant. Y. Mor. Well, of necessity it must be so. My lords, that I abhor base Gaveston, I hope your honours make no question; And therefore, though I plead for his repeal, "Tis not for his sake, but for our avail;1 Nay, for the realm's behoof, and for the king's. Lan. Fie, Mortimer, dishonour not thyself! Can this be true, 'twas good to banish him? And is this true, to call him home again? Such reasons make white black, and dark night day.

Y. Mor. My Lord of Lancaster, mark the respect.2

Lan. In no respect can contraries be true. Q. Isab. Yet, good my lord, hear what he can allege.

War. All that he speaks is nothing; we are resolv'd.

Y. Mor. Do you not wish that Gaveston were dead?

Pem. I would he were!

Y. Mor. Why, then, my lord, give me but leave to speak.

E. Mor. But, nephew, do not play the sophister. Y. Mor. This which I urge is of a burning zeal To mend the king and do our country good. Know you not Gaveston hath store of gold, Which may in Ireland purchase him such friends As he will front the mightiest of us all? And whereas he shall live and be belov'd, "Tis hard for us to work his overthrow.

War. Mark you but that, my Lord of Lancaster. Y. Mor. But, were he here, detested as he is, How easily might some base slave be suborn'd To greet his lordship with a poniard, And none so much as blame the murderer, But rather praise him for that brave attempt, And in the chronicle enrol his name, For purging of the realm of such a plague! Pem. He saith true.

Lan. Ay, but how chance this was not done before?

Y. Mor. Because, my lords, it was not thought upon.

Nay more, when he shall know it lies in us
To banish him, and then to call him home,
"Twill make him vail the top-flag of his pride,
And fear to offend the meanest nobleman.

E. Mor. But how if he do not, nephew?
Y. Mor. Then may we with some colour rise
in arms;

For, howsoever we have borne it out,
"Tis treason to be up against the king;
So shall we have the people on our side,
Which, for his father's sake, lean to the king,
But cannot brook a night-grown mushroom,
Such a one as my Lord of Cornwall is,
Should bear us down of the nobility:
And, when the commons and the nobles join,
'Tis not the king can buckler Gaveston;
We'll pull him from the strongest hold he hath.
My Lords, if to perform this I be slack,
Think me as base a groom as Gaveston.

Lan. On that condition Lancaster will grant.
War. And so will Pembroke and I.
E. Mor. And I.

Y. Mor. In this I count me highly gratified, And Mortimer will rest at your command.

Q. Isab. And when this favour Isabel forgets, Then let her live abandon'd and forlorn. But see, in happy time, my lord the king, Having brought the Earl of Cornwall on his way, Is new return'd. This news will glad him much: Yet not so much as me; I love him more Than he can Gaveston: would he lov'd me But half so much! then were I treble-blest.

Re-enter KING EDWARD mourning.

K. Edw. He's gone, and for his absence thus I

mourn:

Did never sorrow go so near my heart
As doth the want of my sweet Gaveston;
And, could my crown's revenue bring him back,
I would freely give it to his enemies,
And think I gain'd, having bought so dear a friend.

Q. Isab. Hark, how he harps upon his minion!
K. Edw. My heart is as an anvil unto sorrow,
Which beats upon it like the Cyclop's hammers,
And with the noise turns up my giddy brain,
And makes me frantic for my Gaveston.
Ah, had some bloodless Fury rose from hell,
And with my kingly sceptre struck me dead,
When I was forc'd to leave my Gaveston!

Lan. Diablo! what passions call you these?
Q. Isab. My gracious lord, I come to bring you

news.

K. Edw. That you have parled' with your Mortimer?

Q. Isab. That Gaveston, my lord, shall be repeal'd. K. Edw. Repeal'd! the news is too sweet to be true.

Q. Isab. But will you love me if you find it so? K. Edw. If it be so, what will not Edward do? Q. Isab. For Gaveston, but not for Isabel.

K. Edw. For thee, fair queen, if thou lov'st Gaveston,

I'll hang a golden tongue about thy neck, Seeing thou hast pleaded with so good success.

Q. Isab. No other jewels hang about my neck Than these, my lord; nor let me have more wealth

Than I may fetch from this rich treasury.
Oh, how a kiss revives poor Isabel!

K. Edw. Once more receive my hand; and let this be

A second marriage 'twixt thyself and me.

Q. Isab. And may it prove more happy than the first!

My gentle lord, bespeak these nobles fair,
That wait attendance for a gracious look,
And on their knees salute your majesty.

K. Edw. Courageous Lancaster, embrace thy king;

And, as gross vapours perish by the sun,
Even so let hatred with thy sovereign's smile:
Live thou with me as my companion.

Lan. This salutation overjoys my heart.

K. Edw. Warwick shall be my chiefest counsellor:

These silver hairs will more adorn my court
Than gaudy silks or rich embroidery.
Chide me, sweet Warwick, if I go astray.

War. Slay me, my lord, when I offend your

grace.

K. Edw. In solemn triumphs and in public shows Pembroke shall bear the sword before the king.

1 parled-spoken or conferred, from Fr. parler

Pem. And with this sword Pembroke will fight for you.

K. Edw. But wherefore walks young Mortimer aside?

Be thou commander of our royal fleet;
Or, if that lofty office like thee not,

I make thee here Lord Marshal of the realm.
Y. Mor. My lord, I'll marshal so your enemies,
As England shall be quiet, and you safe.

K. Edw. And as for you, Lord Mortimer of
Chirke, 2

Whose great achievements in our foreign war
Deserve no common place nor mean reward,
Be you the general of the levied troops
That now are ready to assail the Scots.

E. Mor. In this your grace hath highly honour'd me,

For with my nature war doth best agree.

While soldiers mutiny for want of pay.
He wears a lord's revenue on his back,
And, Midas-like, he jets it in the court,
With base outlandish cullions2 at his heels,
Whose proud fantastic liveries make such show
As if that Proteus, god of shapes, appear'd.
I have not seen a dapper Jack so brisk:
He wears a short Italian hooded cloak,
Larded with pearl, and in his Tuscan cap
A jewel of more value than the crown.
While others walk below, the king and he,
From out a window, laugh at such as we,
And flout our train, and jest at our attire.
Uncle, 'tis this that makes me impatient.

E. Mor. But, nephew, now you see the king is chang'd.

Y. Mor. Then so am I, and live to do him service:

Having the love of his renowmèd3 peers.

K. Edw. Ay, Isabel, ne'er was my heart so light.

Clerk of the crown, direct our warrant forth,
For Gaveston, to Ireland!-Beaumont, fly
As fast as Iris or Jove's Mercury.

Beau. It shall be done, my gracious lord.

[Exit. K. Ed. Lord Mortimer, we leave you to your charge.

Now let us in, and feast it royally.
Against our friend the Earl of Cornwall comes,
We'll have a general tilt and tournament;
And then his marriage shall be solemniz'd;
For wot you not that I have made him sure 4
Unto our cousin, the Earl of Gloucester's heir?
Lan. Such news we hear, my lord.

K. Edw. That day, if not for him, yet for my sake,

Who in the triumph will be challenger,
Spare for no cost; we will requite your love.
War. In this or aught your highness shall
command us.

K. Edw. Thanks, gentle Warwick. let's in and revel.

Come,

[Exeunt all except the MORTIMERS. E. Mor. Nephew, I must to Scotland; thou stay'st here.

Leave now to oppose thyself against the king:
Thou seest by nature he is mild and calm;
And, seeing his mind so dotes on Gaveston,
Let him without controlment have his will.
The mightiest kings have had their minions;
Great Alexander lov'd Hephæstion,

The conquering Hercules for Hylas wept,
And for Patroclus stern Achilles droop'd:
And not kings only, but the wisest men;
The Roman Tully lov'd Octavius,
Grave Socrates wild Alcibiades.

Then let his grace, whose youth is flexible,
And promiseth as much as we can wish,
Freely enjoy that vain light-headed earl;
For riper years will wean him from such toys.
Y. Mor. Uncle, his wanton humour grieves

not me;

But this I scorn, that one so basely born Should by his sovereign's favour grow so pert, And riot it with the treasure of the realm,

1 like-please, which is its literal meaning. Chirke-Or Werke.'-DoDSLEY'S Old Plays. renowmèd - old form of renowned; Fr. renommé, from Lat. nomen, a name.

• made him sure-bound or affianced him. cousin-equivalent here to niece. (So in Shakespeare's Hamlet, the king calls his nephew Hamlet 'cousin.")-DYCE.

[Exeunt.

Enter the younger SPENSER3 and BALDOCK. Bald. Spenser, 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 Spenser'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 preferr'd me to the king. Bald. But he is banish'd; there's small hope of him.

Y. Spen. Ay, for a while; but, Baldock, mark

the end.

A friend of mine told me in secrecy
That he's repeal'd 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 smil'd; which makes me
think

It is about her lover Gaveston.

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

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-cap'd cloak, fac'd 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,

1 jets-jet, to strut or walk proudly; to throw the body about in walking.-NARES. Fr. jeter, to throw. 2 cullions-base, cowardly fellows; scoundrels. Fr. coion, a dastard, poltroon.

3 Enter the younger Spenser, &c.-Scene, a hall in the mansion of the Duke of Gloucester.

4 legs-a bow made by throwing out the leg.

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. Spenser, thou know'st I hate such formal toys,

And use them but of mere hypocrisy.
Mine old lord, whiles he liv'd, 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 villany.

am none of these common pedants, I,

That cannot speak without propterea quod.

Y. Spen. But one of those that saith quandoquidem,2

And hath a special gift to form a verb.

Q. Isa. Look, Lancaster, how passionate1 he is,

And still his mind runs on his minion!

Lan. My lord,

K. Edw. How now! what news? is Gaveston arriv'd?

Y. Mor. Nothing but Gaveston? what means your grace?

You have matters of more weight to think upon: The king of France sets foot in Normandy.

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

But tell me, Mortimer, what's thy device
Against the stately triumph we decreed?
Y. Mor. A homely one, my lord, not worth
the telling.

K. Edw. Pray thee, let me know it.

Y. Mor. But, seeing you are so desirous, thus it is:

A lofty cedar-tree, fair flourishing,

On whose top-branches kingly eagles perch,

comes.

Enter KING EDWARD'S Niece.

Niece. 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 couldst not come and visit me.

I will not long be from thee, though I die!This argues the entire love of my lord;

[Reads.

[Reads. When I forsake thee, death seize on my heart!But stay thee here where Gaveston shall sleep. [Puts the letter into her bosom. 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 coach3 be ready; I must hence.
Bald. It shall be done, madam.
Niece. And meet me at the park-pale presently.
[Exit BALDOCK.

Spenser, 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.

Y. Spen. I knew the king would have him home again.

Niece. If all things sort out, as I hope they will,

Thy service, Spenser, shall be thought upon. Y. Spen. I humbly thank your ladyship. Niece. Come, lead the way: I long till I am there. [Exeunt.

Enter KING EDWARD, QUEEN ISABELLA, KENT,

LANCASTER, the younger MORTIMER, WAR-
WICK, PEMBROKE, and Attendants.

K. Edw. The wind is good; I wonder why he
I fear me he is wreck'd upon the sea.

1 propterea quod-'because that.'

[stays:

2 quando-quidem-secing,' or 'since that.' 3 coach. The reign of Elizabeth is generally cited as the period when coaches were introduced into England, and under that term carriages of every kind have been considered as included; but long anterior to that reign vehicles with wheels, under the denomination of chairs, cars, chariots, caroches, and whirlicotes, were used in England." Mr. Markland on Carriages in England. See Archæologia, vol. xx.'-DODSLEY'S Old Plays.

park-pale-pale, fence, or boundary of the park.

5 sort out-arrange themselves, happen, or take effect. 6 Enter King Edward, &c.-Scene before Tynmouth Castle.-DYCE.

And gets unto the highest bough of all;
The motto, Eque tandem,2

K. Edw. And what is yours, my Lord of Lancaster?

Lan. My lord, mine's more obscure than
Mortimer's.

Pliny reports, there is a flying-fish3
Which all the other fishes deadly hate,

And therefore, being pursu'd, it takes the air:
No sooner is it up, but there's a fowl
That seizeth it: this fish, my lord, I bear;
The motto this, Undique mors est.

Kent. Proud Mortimer! ungentle Lancaster!
Is this the love you bear your sovereign?
Is this the fruit your reconcilement bears?
Can you in words make show of amity,

And in your shields display your rancorous minds?

What call you this but private libelling

Against the Earl of Cornwall and my brother? Q. Isab. Sweet husband, be content; they all love you.

K. Edw. They love me not that hate my
Gaveston.

I am that cedar; shake me not too much;
And you the eagles; soar ye ne'er so high,
I have the jesses that will pull you down;
And Æque tandem shall that canker cry
Unto the proudest peer of Britainy.
And threaten'st death whether he rise or fall,
Though thou compar'st him to a flying-fish.
"Tis not the hugest monster of the sea,
Nor foulest harpy, that shall swallow him.

Y. Mor. If in his absence thus he favours him,

What will he do whenas he shall be present? Lan. That shall we see: look, where his lordship comes!

Enter GAVESTON. K. Edw. My Gaveston! Welcome to Tynmouth! welcome to thy friend!

2 Eque tandem-'justly' or 'justice at last.' 3 flying-fish-The Exocatus. See Plinii Nat. Hist. lib. ix. 19.-DODSLEY'S Old Plays.

A Undique, &c.-There is death on all sides.' jesses-from old Fr. ges, jet; from Lat. jacto, to throw. The short straps of leather round the legs of the hawk, in which were fixed the varvels or little rings of silver, and to these the leash or long strap which the falconer twisted round his hand.-NARES.

Gwhenas-when.

K. Edw. Convey hence Gaveston; they'll murder him.

Gav. The life of thee shall salve this foul disgrace.

Y. Mor. Villain, thy life! unless I miss mine aim. [Wounds GAVESTON. Q. Isab. Ah, furious Mortimer, what hast thou done?

Y. Mor. No more than I would answer, were he slain. [Exit GAVESTON with Attendants.

K. Ed. Yes, more than thou canst answer, though he live:

Dear shall you both abide this riotous deed: Out of my presence; come not near the court!

Y. Mor. I'll not be barr'd the court for Gaveston.

Lan. We'll hale him by the ears unto the block.

K. Edw. Look to your own heads; his is sure enough.

War. Look to your own crown, if you back him thus.

Kent. Warwick, these words do ill beseem thy years.

K. Educ. Nay, all of them conspire to cross me

thus:

But, if I live, I'll tread upon their heads
That think with high looks thus to tread me

down.

Come, Edmund, let's away, and levy men: 'Tis war that must abate these barons' pride. Exeunt KING EDWARD, QUEEN ISABELLA, and KENT.

1 preventeth-goeth before, i.e. anticipateth. 2 saire-heal or wipe out.

War. I'll have his blood, or die in seeking it.
Pem. The like oath Pembroke takes.
Lan. And so doth Lancaster.

Now send our heralds to defy the king;
And make the people swear to put him down.
Enter a Messenger.

Y. Mor. Letters! from whence?
Mes. From Scotland, my lord.

Lan. Why, how now, cousin; how fare all our friends?

Y. Mor. My uncle's taken prisoner by the Scots. Lan. We'll have him ransom'd, man: be of good cheer.

Y. Mor. They rate his ransom at five thousand pounds.

Who should defray the money but the king,
Seeing he is taken prisoner in his wars?
I'll to the king.

Lan. Do, cousin, and I'll bear thee company. War. Meantime my Lord of Pembroke and myself

Will to Newcastle here, and gather head.

Y. Mor. About it, then, and we will follow you. Lan. Be resolute and full of secrecy. War. I warrant you. [Exit with PEMBROKE. Y. Mor. Cousin, an' if he will not ransom him, I'll thunder such a peal into his ears As never subject did unto his king. Lan. Content; I'll bear my part.-Holla! who's there?

Enter Guard.

Y. Mor. Ay, marry, such a guard as this doth well.

Lan. Lead on the way.

Guard. Whither will your lordships?

Y. Mor. Whither else but to the king?
Guard. His highness is dispos'd to be alone.
Lan. Why, so he may; but we will speak to
him.

Guard. You may not in, my lord.

Y. Mor. May we not?

Enter KING EDWARD and KENT. K. Edw. How now!

What noise is this? who have we there? is't you?

Y. Mor. Nay, stay, my lord; I come to bring

you news;

Mine uncle's taken prisoner by the Scots.
K. Edw. Then ransom him.

Lan. 'Twas in your wars; you should ransom him.

Y. Mor. And you shall ransom him, or elseKent. What! Mortimer, you will not threaten him.

K. Ed. Quiet yourself; you shall have the broad seal,

To gather for him throughout the realm.

Lan. Your minion Gaveston hath taught you this.

Y. Mor. My lord, the family of the Mortimers Are not so poor, but, would they sell their land, "Twould levy men enough to anger you. We never beg, but use such prayers as these.

K. Edw. Shall I still be haunted thus? Y. Mor. Nay, now you are here alone, I'll speak my mind.

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 O'Neil, with swarms of Irish kerns,2
Lives uncontroll'd within the English pale;
Unto the walls of York the Scots make road,3
And, unresisted, drive 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 ambassadors ?

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 should'st dearly
love;

Libels are cast again 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 banner spread,

But once? and then thy soldiers march'd like players,

6

With garish robes, not armour; and thyself, Bedaub'd 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:

9

Maids of England, sore may you mourn,

For your lemans 10 you have lost at Bannocksbourn,With a heave and a ho!

What weeneth 11 the king of England

So soon to have won Scotland?-
With a rombelow!

7 fleering-sneering, scoffing. To fleer means to mock, deride, or taunt with insolence and contempt; it is also used as a noun.

8 jig, which now means a quick dance, formerly, as in the text, meant also a ballad, particularly a merry one. See next note.

9 Maids of England, &c. Taken (with very slight variations) from Fabyan's Chron. vol. ii. fol. 169, ed. 1559. This song,' says the Chronicle, was, after many days, sung in dances in the carols of the maidens and minstrels of Scotland.'

10 lemans-lovers.

11 weeneth-expecteth; Anglo-Saxon wen, hope.

Y. Mor. Wigmore1 shall fly, to set my uncle free.

Lan. And, when 'tis gone, our swords shall purchase more.

If you be mov'd, revenge it as you can: Look next to see us with our ensigns spread. [Exit with Y. MORTIMER. K. Edw. My swelling heart for very anger breaks:

How oft have I been baited by these peers,
And dare not be reveng'd, for their power 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,

Now let them thank themselves, and rue too late.

Kent. My lord, I see your love to Gaveston
Will be the ruin of the realm and you,
For now the wrathful nobles threaten wars;
And therefore, brother, banish him for ever.

K. Edw. Art thou an enemy to my Gaveston? Kent. Ay; and it grieves me that I favour'd him.

K. Edw. Traitor, be gone! whine thou with Mortimer.

Kent. So will I, rather than with Gaveston. K. Edw. Out of my sight, and trouble me no more!

Kent. No marvel though thou scorn thy noble peers,

When I thy brother am rejected thus.

K. Edw. Away! [Exit KENT. Poor Gaveston, thou hast no friend but me! Do what they can, we'll live in Tynmouth here; And so I walk with him about the walls, What care I though the earls begirt us round? Here comes she that is cause of all these jars. Enter QUEEN ISABELLA, with EDWARD'S Niece, two Ladies, GAVESTON, BALDOCK, and the younger SPENSER.

Q. Isab. My lord, 'tis thought the earls are up in arms.

K. Edw. Ay, and 'tis likewise thought you favour 'em.

Q. Isab. Thus do you still suspect me without

cause.

Niece. Sweet uncle, speak more kindly to the queen.

Gav. My lord, dissemble with her; speak her fair.

K. Edw. Pardon me, sweet; I forgot myself. Q. Isab. Your pardon is quickly got of Isabel. K. Edw. The younger Mortimer is grown so brave,

That to my face he threatens civil wars.

Gav. Why do you not commit him to the Tower?

K. Edw. I dare not, for the people love him well.

Gav. Why, then, we'll have him privily made away.

K. Edw. Would Lancaster and he had both carous'd

A bowl of poison to each other's health!
But let them go, and tell me what are these.
Niece. Two of my father's servants whilst he
liv'd:

May't please your grace to entertain them now. K. Edw. Tell me, where wast thou born? what is thine arms?

1 Wigmore. 'Mortimer junior was of Wigmore.'DODSLEY'S Old Plays.