The Works of Christopher Marlowe - LightNovelsOnl.com
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_War._ Yet not perhaps, If Warwick's wit and policy prevail. [_Aside._
_Y. Mor._ My lord of Pembroke, we deliver him you; Return him on your honour. Sound, away!
[_Exeunt all but_ PEMBROKE, ARUNDEL,[256]
GAVESTON, _and_ PEMBROKE'S men.
_Pem._ My lord [of Arundel], you shall go with me.
My house is not far hence; out of the way A little, but our men shall go along.
We that have pretty wenches to our wives, Sir, must not come so near to baulk their lips.
_Arun._ 'Tis very kindly spoke, my lord of Pembroke; 100 Your honour hath an adamant of power To draw a prince.
_Pem._ So, my lord. Come hither, James I do commit this Gaveston to thee, Be thou this night his keeper, in the morning We will discharge thee of thy charge: be gone.
_Gav._ Unhappy Gaveston, whither goest thou now?
[_Exit with_ JAMES _and_ PEMBROKE'S men.
_Horse-boy._ My lord, we'll quickly be at Cobham.
[_Exeunt._
ACT THE THIRD.
SCENE I.
_Enter[257]_ GAVESTON _mourning_, JAMES, _and the_ EARL of PEMBROKE'S men.
_Gav._ O treacherous Warwick! thus to wrong thy friend.
_James._ I see it is your life these arms pursue.
_Gav._ Weaponless must I fall, and die in bands?
O! 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 Gaveston.
_James._ Your lords.h.i.+p does dishonour to yourself, And wrong our lord, your honourable friend.
_War._ No, James, it is my country's cause I follow. 10 Go, take the villain; soldiers, come away.
We'll make quick work. Commend me to your master,
My friend, and tell him that I watched it well.
Come, let thy shadow[258] parley with King Edward.
_Gav._ Treacherous earl, shall I not see the king?
_War._ The king of Heaven perhaps, no other king. Away!
[_Exeunt_ WARWICK _and his_ Men _with_ GAVESTON.
_James._ Come, fellows, it booted not for us to strive, We will in haste go certify our lord.
[_Exeunt._
SCENE II.
_Enter_[259] KING EDWARD _and_ YOUNG SPENCER, BALDOCK, _and_ n.o.bles _of the king's side, with drums and fifes_.
_Edw._ I long to hear an answer from the barons Touching my friend, my dearest Gaveston.
Ah! Spencer, not the riches of my realm Can ransom him! ah, he is marked 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 Gaveston again!
The barons overbear me with their pride.
_Y. Spen._ Were I King Edward, England's sovereign, 10 Son to the lovely Eleanor of Spain, Great Edward Longshanks' issue, would I bear These braves,[260] this rage, and suffer uncontrolled 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 n.o.bility.
Strike off their heads, and let them preach on poles! 20 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 Gaveston, We'll steel it on their crest, and poll their tops.
_Bald._ This haught[261] resolve becomes your majesty Not to be tied to their affection, As though your highness were a schoolboy still, 30 And must be awed and governed like a child.
_Enter_ HUGH SPENCER, _father to the_ YOUNG SPENCER, _with his truncheon and_ Soldiers.
_O. Spen._ Long live my sovereign, the n.o.ble Edward-- In peace triumphant, fortunate in wars!
_Edw._ Welcome, old man, com'st thou in Edward's aid?
Then tell thy[262] prince of whence, and what thou art.
_O. Spen._ Lo, with a band of bowmen and of pikes, Brown bills and targeteers, four hundred strong, Sworn to defend King Edward's royal right, I come in person to your majesty, Spencer, the father of Hugh Spencer there, 40 Bound to your highness everlastingly, For favour done, in him, unto us all.
_Edw._ Thy father, Spencer?
_Y. Spen._ True, an it like your grace, That pours, in lieu of all your goodness shown, His life, my lord, before your princely feet.
_Edw._ Welcome ten thousand times, old man, again.
Spencer, this love, this kindness to thy king, Argues thy n.o.ble mind and disposition.
Spencer, I here create thee Earl of Wilts.h.i.+re, And daily will enrich thee with our favour, 50 That, as the suns.h.i.+ne, shall reflect o'er thee.
Beside, the more to manifest our love, 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 And, Spencer, spare them not, lay it on.
Soldiers, a largess, and thrice welcome all!
_Y. Spen._ My lord, here comes[263] the queen.
_Enter the_ QUEEN _and her_ Son, _and_ LEVUNE, _a Frenchman._
_Edw._ Madam, what news?
