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I do commit this Gaueston to thee,
Be thou this night his keeper, in the morning
We will discharge thee of thy charge; be gone.
Gau. Unhappy Gaueston, whi'er goest thou now?
[Exit PEMBROKE, with his Men.
Horse-boy. My lord, we shall quickly be at Cobham.

[Exeunt ambo.

SCENE VI.-Open Country. 1311.

Enter GAUESTON mourning, and the EARL
OF PEMBROKE'S Men.

Gau. O treacherous Warwick! thus to wrong thy friend.
James. I see it is your life these arms pursue.

Gau. Weaponless must I fall, and die in bands? Oh! must this day be period of my life?

Centre of all my bliss! An ye be men,

Speed to the king.

Enter WARWICK and his Company.

War. My lord of Pembroke's men,

Strive you no longer-I will have that Gaueston.
James. Your lordship doth dishonour to yourself,
And wrong our lord, your honourable friend.

War. No, James, it is my country's cause I follow.
Go, take the villain; soldiers, come away,

We'll make quick work. Commend me to your master,
My friend, and tell him that I watcht it well.

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Come, let thy shadow parley with King Edward.
Gau. Treacherous earl, shall not I see the king?
War. The King of heaven perhaps, no other king.
Away! [Exeunt WARWICK and his Men with GAUESTON.
James. Come, fellows, 't booted not for us to strive,
We will in haste go certify our lord.

[Exeunt.

ACT III.

SCENE I (a).-Yorkshire. 1311.

Enter KING EDWARD and YOUNG SPENCER, and BALDOCK, with drums and fifes.

Edw. I long to hear an answer from the barons,

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Touching my friend, my dearest Gaueston.
Ah! Spencer, not the riches of my realm
Can ransom him! ah, he is markt to die!
I know the malice of the younger Mortimer,
Warwick I know is rough, and Lancaster
Inexorable, and I shall never see

My lovely Pierce of Gaueston again!
The barons overbear me with their pride.

Y. Spen. Were I King Edward, England's sovereign,
Son to the lovely Eleanor of Spain,

Great Edward Longshanks' issue, would I bear
These braves, this rage, and suffer uncontrol'd
These barons thus to beard me in my land,

In mine own realm? My lord, pardon my speech,
Did you retain your father's magnanimity,
Did you regard the honour of your name,
You would not suffer thus your majesty
Be counterbuft of your nobility.

Strike off their heads, and let them preach on poles!
No doubt, such lessons they will teach the rest,
As by their preachments they will profit much,
And learn obedience to their lawful king.

Edw. Yea, gentle Spencer, we have been too mild,
Too kind to them; but now have drawn our sword,
And if they send me not my Gaueston,

We'll steel it on their crest, and pole their tops.
Bald. This haught resolve becomes your majesty
Not to be tied to their affectiön,

As though your highness were a schoolboy still,
And must be awed and govern'd like a child.

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SCENE I (6).-Yorkshire. 1320.

Enter HUGH SPENCER, an old man, father to the YOUNG SPENCER, with his truncheon and Soldiers.

O. Spen. Long live my sovereign, the noble Edward— In peace triumphant, fortunate in wars!

Edw. Welcome, old man, com'st thou in Edward's aid? Then tell thy prince of whence, and what thou art.

O. Spen. Lo, with a band of bowmen and of pikes,
Brown bills and targetiers, four hundred strong,
Sworn to defend King Edward's royal right,
I come in person to your majesty,

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Spencer, the father of Hugh Spencer there,
Bound to your highness everlastingly,
For favour done, in him, unto us all.
Edw. Thy father, Spencer?

Y. Spen. True, an 't like your grace,

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That pours, in lieu of all your goodness shown,

His life, my lord, before your princely feet.

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Edw. Welcome ten thousand times, old man, again.

Spencer, this love, this kindness to thy king,

Argues thy noble mind and disposition.
Spencer, I here create thee Earl of Wiltshire,
And daily will enrich thee with our favour,
That, as the sunshine, shall reflect o'er thee.
Beside, the more to manifest our love,

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Because we hear Lord Bruce doth sell his land,
And that the Mortimers are in hand withal,

Thou shalt have crowns of us t' outbid the barons:

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And, Spencer, spare them not, [but] lay it on.
Soldiers, a largess, and thrice welcome all!

SCENE I (c).-Yorkshire. 1325.

Enter the QUEEN and her Son, and LEVUNE, a Frenchman.

Y. Spen. My lord, here comes the queen.

Edw. Madam, what news?

Queen. News of dishonour, lord, and discontent.

Our friend Levune, faithful and full of trust,

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Informeth us, by letters and by words,

That Lord Valois our brother, King of France,

Because your highness hath been slack in homage,

Hath seized Normandy into his hands.

These be the letters, this the messenger.

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Edw. Welcome, Levune. Tush, Sib, if this be all,

Valois and I will soon be friends again.

But to my Gauston: shall I never see,

Never behold thee more? Madam, in this matter,

We will employ you and your little son;

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You shall go parley with the King of France.

Boy, see you bear you bravely to the king,

And do your message with a majesty.

Prince. Commit not to my youth things of more weight

Than fits a prince so young as I to bear,

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And fear not, lord and father, heaven's great beams

On Atlas' shoulder shall not lie more safe,

Than shall your charge committed to my trust.

Queen. Ah, boy! this towardness makes thy mother fear

Thou art not markt to many days on earth.

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Edw. Madam, we will that you with speed be shipt,

And this our son; Levune shall follow you

With all the haste we can despatch him hence.
Chuse of our lords to bear you company;

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And go in peace, leave us in wars at home.

Queen. Unnatural wars, where subjects brave their king; God end them once. My lord, I take my leave,

To make my preparation for France.

[Exit with PRINCE.

SCENE I (d).-Yorkshire. 1312-13.

Enter ARUNDEL.

Edw. What, Lord Arúndel, dost thou come alone?
Arun. Yea, my good lord, for Gaueston is dead.

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Edw. Ah, traitors! have they put my friend to death?

Tell me, Arundel, died he ere thou cam❜st,

Or didst thou see my friend to take his death?

Arun. Neither, my lord; for as he was surprised, Begirt with weapons and with enemies round,

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I did your highness' message to them all;
Demanding him of them, entreating rather,
And said, upon the honour of my name,
That I would undertake to carry him

Unto your highness, and to bring him back.

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Edw. And tell me, would the rebels deny me that?
Y. Spen. Proud recreants!

Edw. Yea, Spencer, traitors all.

Arun. I found them at the first inexorable;

The Earl of Warwick would not bide the hearing,

Mortimer hardly, Pembroke and Lancaster

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Spake least and when they flatly had denied,

Refusing to receive me pledge for him,

The Earl of Pembroke mildly thus bespake;

'My lords, because our sovereign sends for him, And promiseth he shall be safe return'd,

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I will this undertake to have him hence,

And see him re-deliv'red to your hands.'

Edw. Well, and how fortunes that he came not [then]?

Y. Spen. Some treason, or some villainy was the cause. Arun. The Earl of Warwick seized him on his way;

For being deliv'red unto Pembroke's men,

Their lord rode home thinking his prisoner safe;
But ere he came, Warwick in ambush lay,
And bare him to his death; and in a trench
Strake off his head, and marcht unto the camp.
Y. Spen. A bloody part, flatly 'gainst law of arms.

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[Exit ARUNDEL. Edw. O shall I speak, or shall I sigh and die! Y. Spen. My lord, refer your vengeance to the sword Upon these barons; hearten up your men; Let them not unrevenged murther your friends! Advance your standard, Edward, in the field, And march to fire them from their starting holes.

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[EDWARD kneels.

Edw. By earth, the common mother of us all!
By heaven, and all the moving orbs thereof!
By this right hand! and by my father's sword!
And all the honours 'longing to my crown!
I will have heads, and lives for him, as many
As I have manors, castles, towns, and towers.
Treacherous Warwick! traitorous Mortimer!
If I be England's king, in lakes of gore
Your headless trunks, your bodies will I trail,
That you may drink your fill, and quaff in blood.
And stain my royal standard with the same,
That so my bloody colours may suggest
Remembrance of revenge immortally
On your accursed traitorous progeny,
You villains, that have slain my Gaueston!
And in his place of honour and of trust,
Spencer, sweet Spencer, I adopt thee here:
And merely of our love we do create thee
Earl of Gloster, and Lord Chamberlain,
Despite of times, despite of enemies.

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[Rises.

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Y. Spen. My lord, here is a messenger from the barons Desires accéss unto your majesty.

Edw. Admit him near.

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