Edward the Second Part 8

_K. Edw._ Yea, Spenser, traitors all!

_Arun._ In found them at the first inexorable; The Earl of Warwick would not bide the hearing, Mortimer hardly; Pembroke and Lancaster Spake least; and when they flatly had denied, Refusing to receive me pledge for him, The Earl of Pembroke mildly thus bespake; "My lord, because our sovereign sends for him, And promiseth he shall be safe return'd, I will this undertake, to have him hence, And see him re-deliver'd to your hands."

_K. Edw._ Well, and how fortunes [it] that he came not?

_Y. Spen._ Some treason or some villany was cause.

_Arun._ The Earl of Warwick seiz'd him on his way; For, being deliver'd 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 march'd unto the camp.

_Y. Spen._ A b.l.o.o.d.y part, flatly 'gainst law of arms!

_K. 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 unreveng'd murder your friends: Advance your standard, Edward, in the field, And march to fire them from their starting-holes.

_K. Edw._ [_kneeling._] 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!-- [_Rises._ 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 b.l.o.o.d.y colours may suggest Remembrance of revenge immortally On your accursed traitorous progeny, You villains that have slain my Gaveston!-- And in this place of honour and of trust, Spenser, sweet Spenser, I adopt thee here; And merely of our love we do create thee Earl of Glocester and Lord Chamberlain, Despite of times, despite of enemies.

_Y. Spen._ My lord, here's a messenger from the barons Desires access unto your majesty.

_K. Edw._ Admit him near.

_Enter_ Herald _with his coat of arms._

_Her._ Long live King Edward, England's lawful lord!

_K. Edw._ So wish not they, I wis, that sent thee hither: Thou com'st from Mortimer and his complices: A ranker rout of rebels never was.

Well, say thy message.

_Her._ The barons, up in arms, by me salute Your highness with long life and happiness; And bid me say, as plainer to your grace, That if without effusion of blood You will this grief have ease and remedy, That from your princely person you remove This Spenser, as a putrifying branch That deads the royal vine, whose golden leaves Empale your princely head, your diadem; Whose brightness such pernicious upstarts dim, Say they, and lovingly advise your grace To cherish virtue and n.o.bility, And have old servitors in high esteem, And shake off smooth dissembling flatterers: This granted, they, their honours, and their lives, Are to your highness vow'd and consecrate.

_Y. Spen._ Ah, traitors, will they still display their pride?

_K. Edw._ Away! tarry no answer, but be gone!-- Rebels, will they appoint their sovereign His sports, his pleasures, and his company?-- Yet, ere thou go, see how I do divorce [_Embraces young Spenser._ Spenser from thee. Now get thee to thy lords, And tell them I will come to chastise them For murdering Gaveston: hie thee, get thee gone!

Edward, with fire and sword, follows at thy heels. [_Exit Herald._ My lord[s], perceive you how these rebels swell?-- Soldiers, good hearts! defend your sovereign's right, For, now, even now, we march to make them stoop.

Away!

[_Exeunt. Alarums, excursions, a great fight, and a retreat sounded, within._

_Re-enter_ KING EDWARD, _the elder_ SPENSER, _the younger_ SPENSER, BALDOCK, _and_ n.o.blemen _of the king's side._

_K. Edw._ Why do we sound retreat? upon them, lords!

This day I shall your vengeance with my sword On those proud rebels that are up in arms, And do confront and countermand their king.

_Y. Spen._ I doubt it not, my lord; right will prevail.

_E. Spen._ 'Tis not amiss, my liege, for either part To breathe a while; our men, with sweat and dust All chok'd well near, begin to faint for heat; And this retire refresheth horse and man.

_Y. Spen._ Here come the rebels.

_Enter the younger_ MORTIMER, LANCASTER, WARWICK, PEMBROKE, _and others._

_Y. Mor._ Look, Lancaster, yonder is Edward Among his flatterers.

_Lan._And there let him be, Till he pay dearly for their company.

_War._ And shall, or Warwick's sword shall smite in vain.

_K. Edw._ What, rebels, do you shrink and sound retreat?

_Y. Mor._ No, Edward, no; thy flatterers faint and fly.

_Lan._ They'd best betimes forsake thee and their trains, For they'll betray thee, traitors as they are.

_Y. Spen._ Traitor on thy face, rebellious Lancaster!

_Pem._ Away, base upstart! brav'st thou n.o.bles thus?

_E. Spen._ A n.o.ble attempt and honourable deed, Is it not, trow ye, to a.s.semble aid And levy arms against your lawful king?

_K. Edw._ For which, ere long, their heads shall satisfy T' appease the wrath of their offended king.

_Y. Mor._ Then, Edward, thou wilt fight it to the last, And rather bathe thy sword in subjects' blood Than banish that pernicious company?

_K. Edw._ Ay, traitors all, rather than thus be brav'd, Make England's civil towns huge heaps of stones, And ploughs to go about our palace-gates.

_War._ A desperate and unnatural resolution!-- Alarum to the fight!

Saint George for England, and the barons' right!

_K. Edw._ Saint George for England, and King Edward's right!

[_Alarums. Exeunt the two parties severally._

_Enter_ KING EDWARD _and his followers, with the_ Barons _and_ KENT _captive._

_K. Edw._ Now, l.u.s.ty lords, now not by chance of war, But justice of the quarrel and the cause, Vail'd is your pride: methinks you hang the heads But we'll advance them, traitors: now 'tis time To be aveng'd on you for all your braves, And for the murder of my dearest friend, To whom right well you knew our soul was knit, Good Pierce of Gaveston, my sweet favourite: Ah, rebels, recreants, you made him away!

_Kent._ Brother, in regard of thee and of thy land, Did they remove that flatterer from thy throne.

_K. Edw._ So, sir, you have spoke: away, avoid our presence!

[_Exit Kent._ Accursed wretches, was't in regard of us, When we had sent our messenger to request He might be spar'd to come to speak with us, And Pembroke undertook for his return, That thou, proud Warwick, watch'd the prisoner, Poor Pierce, and headed him 'gainst law of arms?

For which thy head shall overlook the rest As much as thou in rage outwent'st the rest.

_War._ Tyrant, I scorn thy threats and menaces; It is but temporal that thou canst inflict.

_Lan._ The worst is death; and better die to live Than live in infamy under such a king.

_K. Edw._ Away with them, my lord of Winchester!

These l.u.s.ty leaders, Warwick and Lancaster, I charge you roundly, off with both their heads!

Away!

_War._ Farewell, vain world!

_Lan._ Sweet Mortimer, farewell!

_Y. Mor._ England, unkind to thy n.o.bility, Groan for this grief! behold how thou art maim'd!

_K. Edw._ Go, take that haughty Mortimer to the Tower; There see him safe bestow'd; and, for the rest, Do speedy execution on them all.

Be gone!

_Y. Mor._ What, Mortimer, can ragged stony walls Immure thy virtue that aspires to heaven?

No, Edward, England's scourge, it may not be; Mortimer's hope surmounts his fortune far.

[_The captive Barons are led off._ _K. Edw._ Sound, drums and trumpets! March with me, my friends.

Edward this day hath crown'd him king anew.

[_Exeunt all except the younger Spenser, Levune and Baldock._ _Y. Spen._ Levune, the trust that we repose in thee Begets the quiet of King Edward's land: Therefore be gone in haste, and with advice Bestow that treasure on the lords of France, That, therewith all enchanted, like the guard That suffer'd Jove to pa.s.s in showers of gold To Danae, all aid may be denied To Isabel the queen, that now in France Makes friends, to cross the seas with her young son, And step into his father's regiment.

_Levune._ That's it these barons and the subtle queen Long levell'd at.

_Bal._ Yea, but, Levune, thou seest, These barons lay their heads on blocks together: What they intend, the hangman frustrates clean.

_Levune._ Have you no doubt, my lords, I'll clap so close Among the lords of France with England's gold, That Isabel shall make her plaints in vain, And France shall be obdurate with her tears.

_Y. Spen._ Then make for France amain; Levune, away!

Proclaim King Edward's wars and victories. [_Exeunt._

_Enter_ KENT.

_Kent._ Fair blows the wind for France: blow, gentle gale, Till Edmund be arriv'd for England's good!

Nature, yield to my country's cause in this!

A brother? no, a butcher of thy friends!

Proud Edward, dost thou banish me thy presence?

But I'll to France, and cheer the wronged queen, And certify what Edward's looseness is.

Unnatural king, to slaughter n.o.bleman And cherish flatterers! Mortimer, I stay Thy sweet escape. Stand gracious, gloomy night, To his device!

_Enter the younger_ MORTIMER _disguised._

_Y. Mor._ Holla! who walketh there?

Is't you, my lord?

_Kent._ Mortimer, 'tis I.

But hath thy portion wrought so happily?

_Y. Mor._ It hath, my lord: the warders all asleep, I thank them, gave me leave to pa.s.s in peace.

But hath your grace got s.h.i.+pping unto France?

_Kent._ Fear it not. [_Exeunt._