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E. Mor. Nephew, I must to Scotland; thou stay'st here. 385 Leave now ť oppose thyself against the king. Thou seest by nature he is mild and calm, And, seeing his mind so dotes on Gaueston, Let him without controlment have his will. The mightiest kings have had their miniöns:
390 Great Alexander loved Hephestion; The conquering Hercules for Hylas wept; And for Patroclus stern Achilles droopt. And not kings only, but the wisest men: The Roman Tully loved Octavius;
395 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.
400 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. While soldiers mutiny for want of pay,
405 He wears a lord's revenue on his back, And Midas-like, he jets it in the court, With base outlandish cullions at his heels, Whose proud fantastic liveries make such show, As if that Proteus, god of shapes, appear'd.
410 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. Whiles other walk below, the king and he
415 From out a window laugh at such as we, And flout our train, and jest at our attire. Uncle, 'tis this that makes me impatiënt. E. Mor. But, nephew, now you see the king is changed.
Y. Mor. Then so am I, and live to do him service: 420 But whiles I have a sword, a hand, a heart, I will not yield to any such upstárt. You know my mind; come, uncle, let's away. [Exeunt.
SCENE 1.-Hall in GLOSTER'S Mansion.
Enter YOUNG SPENCER and BALDOCK.
Y. Spen. Not Mortimer, nor any of his side ;
5 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 Spencer'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 prefer'd me to the king.
Bald. But he is banisht ; there's small hope of him. 15
Y. Spen. Ay, for a while; but, Baldock, mark the end.
Bald. 'Tis like enough ; for since he was exiled
Y. Spen. Our lady's first love is not wavering ;
Bald. Then hope I by her means to be preferid, Ha'ing read unto her since she was a child.
30 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 caped cloak, faced before with serge, And smelling to a nosegay all the day,
35 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, Or looking downward with your eyelids close,
And saying, “Truly, an't may please your honour," 40
Bald. Spencer, thou know'st I hate such formal toys,
45 Mine old lord whiles he lived 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 licentiöus enough,
Y. Spen. But one of those that saith, quandoquidem,
Enter the LADY, the KING's niece.
60 I know thou couldst not come and visit me: I will not long be from thee, though I die.
(Reads. This argues the entire love of my lord; When I forsake thee, death seize on my heart: [Reads. But stay thee here where Gaueston shall sleep.
65 Now to the letter of my lord the king.– He wills me to repair unto the court, Seeing that he talks thus of my marriage-day? Who's there? Baldock?
70 See that my coach be ready, I must hence. Bald. It shall be done, madam.
[Exii. Lady. And meet me at the park-pale presently. Spencer, stay you and bear me company, For I have joyful news to tell thee of;
75 My lord of Cornwall is a coming over, And will be at the court as soon as we.
Spen. I knew the king would have him home again.
80 Spen. I humbly thank your ladyship. Lady. Come, lead the way; I long till I am there. [Exeunt.
SCENE II.-Before Tynemouth Castle. 1309-14. Enter EDWARD, the QUEEN, LANCASTER, YOUNG MORTIMER, WARWICK, PEMBROKE, KENT, and Attendants.
Edw. The wind is good, I wonder why he stays;
Queen. Look, Lancaster, how passionate he is,
5 Edw. How now! what news? is Gaueston arrived ?
Y. Mor. Nothing but Gaueston! what means your grace?
Edw. A trifle! we'll expel him when we please.
Y. Mor. A homely one, my lord;
Edw. Pray thee let me know it.
Y. Mor. But, seeing you're so desirous, thus it is : 15 A lofty cedar-tree, fair flourishing, On whose top branches kingly eagles perch, And by the bark a canker creeps me up, And gets into the highest bough of all : The motto, Æque tandem.
Edw. And what is yours, my lord of Lancaster ?
Lan. My lord, mine's more obscure than Mortimer's.
Kent. Proud Mortimer ! ungentle Lancaster !
30 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?
35 Queen. Sweet husband, be content, they all love you.
Edw. They love me not that hate my Gaueston.
I have the jesses that will pull you down;
40 And Æque tandem shall that canker cry Unto the proudest peer of Britainy. Though thou compar’st him to a flying fish, And threatnest death whether he rise or fall, 'Tis not the hugest monster of the sea,
45 Nor foulest harpy that shall swallow him.
Y. Mor. If in his absence thus he favours him,
Gau. Sweet lord and king, your speech preventeth mine, Yet have I words left to express my joy:
60 The shepherd nipt with biting winter's rage Frolics not more to see the painted spring, Than I do to behold your majesty. Edw. Will none of you salute
my Gaueston ? Lan. Salute him ? yes; welcome, Lord Chamberlain ! 65 Y. Mor. Welcome is the good Earl of Cornwall ! War. Welcome, Lord Go’ernor of the Isle of Man ! Pem. Welcome, Mas. Sec'try! Kent. Brother, do you hear them? Edw. Still will these earls and barons use me thus. Gau. My lord, I cannot brook these injuries.
70 Queen. Ay me, poor soul, when these begin to jar !
[Aside. Edw. Return it to their throats, I'll be thy warrant.
Gau. Base, leaden earls, that glory in your birth,
75 Whose mounting thoughts did never creep so low As to bestow a look on such as you.
Lan. Yet I disdain not to do this for you. [Draws.