SceneII

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Scene

II

Near Boroughbridge, in Yorkshire.

Enter King Edward, the Younger Spenser, Baldock, Noblemen of the King’s side, and Soldiers with drums and fifes.

King Edward

I long to hear an answer from the barons

Touching my friend, my dearest Gaveston.

Ah, Spenser, 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 with me their pride.

Younger Spenser

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 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 counterbuffed 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.

King Edward

Yes, gentle Spenser, 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 crests, and poll their tops.

Baldock

This haught resolve becomes your majesty,

Not to be tied to their affection,

As though your highness were a schoolboy still,

And must be awed and governed like a child.

Enter the Elder Spenser with his truncheon, and Soldiers.

Elder Spenser

Long live my sovereign, the noble Edward,

In peace triumphant, fortunate in wars!

King Edward

Welcome, old man: com’st thou in Edward’s aid?

Then tell thy prince of whence and what thou art.

Elder Spenser

Low, 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,

Spenser, the father of Hugh Spenser there,

Bound to your highness everlastingly

For favour done, in him, unto us all.

King Edward

Thy father, Spenser?

Younger Spenser

True, an it like your grace,

That pours, in lieu of all your goodness shown,

His life, my lord, before your princely feet.

King Edward

Welcome ten thousand times, old man, again!

Spenser, this love, this kindness to thy king,

Argues thy noble mind and disposition.

Spenser, 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,

Because we hear Lord Bruce doth sell his land,

And that the Mortimers are in hand withal,

Thou shalt have crowns of us to outbid the barons;

And, Spenser, spare them not, lay it on.⁠—

Soldiers, a largess, and thrice-welcome all!

Younger Spenser

My lord, here comes the queen.

Enter Queen Isabella, Prince Edward, and Levune, a Frenchman.

King Edward

Madam, what news?

Queen Isabella

News of dishonour, lord, and discontent.

Our friend Levune, faithful and full of trust,

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.

King Edward

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

Valois and I will soon be friends again.⁠—

But to my Gaveston: shall I never see,

Never behold thee now!⁠—Madam, in this matter

We will employ you and your little son;

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 Edward

Commit not to my youth things of more weight

Than fits a prince so young as I to bear;

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 Isabella

Ah, boy, this towardness makes thy mother fear

Thou art not marked to many days on earth!

King Edward

Madam, we will that you with speed be shipped,

And this our son; Levune shall follow you

With all the haste we can despatch him hence.

Choose of our lords to bear you company;

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

Queen Isabella

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 Edward.

Enter Arundel.

King Edward

What, Lord Arundel, dost thou come alone?

Arundel

Yea, my good lord, for Gaveston is dead.

King Edward

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?

Arundel

Neither, my lord; for, as he was surprised,

Begirt with weapons and with enemies round,

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.

King Edward

And, tell me, would the rebels deny me that?

Younger Spenser

Proud recreants!

King Edward

Yea, Spenser, traitors all.

Arundel

I 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 returned,

I will this undertake, to have him hence,

And see him re-delivered to your hands.”

King Edward

Well, and how fortunes that he came not?

Younger Spenser

Some treason, or some villainy, was the cause.

Arundel

The Earl of Warwick seized him on his way;

For, being delivered 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 marched unto the camp.

Younger Spenser

A bloody part, flatly ’gainst law of arms!

King Edward

O, shall I speak, or shall I sigh and die!

Younger Spenser

My lord, refer your vengeance to the sword

Upon these barons; hearten up your men;

Let them not unrevenged murder your friends!

Advance your standard, Edward, in the field,

And march to fire them from their starting-holes.

King Edward

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 bloody 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 Gloucester and Lord Chamberlain,

Despite of times, despite of enemies.

Younger Spenser

My lord, here’s a messenger from the barons

Desires access unto your majesty.

King Edward

Admit him near.

Enter Herald with his coat of arms.

Herald

Long live King Edward, England’s lawful lord!

King Edward

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.

Herald

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

Impale your princely head, your diadem;

Whose brightness such pernicious upstarts dim,

Say they, and lovingly advise your grace

To cherish virtue and nobility,

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 vowed and consecrate.

Younger Spenser

Ah, traitors! will they still display their pride?

King Edward

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 the Younger 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 lords, 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.