Scene
II
Westminster.
Enter on the one side the two Mortimers; on the other, Warwick and Lancaster.
Warwick
’Tis true, the bishop is in the Tower,
And goods and body given to Gaveston.
Lancaster
What! will they tyrannise upon the church?
Ah, wicked King! accursed Gaveston!
This ground, which is corrupted with their steps,
Shall be their timeless sepulchre or mine.
Younger Mortimer
Well, let that peevish Frenchman guard him sure;
Unless his breast be sword-proof, he shall die.
Elder Mortimer
How now! why droops the Earl of Lancaster?
Younger Mortimer
Wherefore is Guy of Warwick discontent?
Lancaster
That villain Gaveston is made an earl.
Elder Mortimer
An earl!
Warwick
Ay, and besides Lord-chamberlain of the realm,
And Secretary too, and Lord of Man.
Elder Mortimer
We may not nor we will not suffer this.
Younger Mortimer
Why post we not from hence to levy men?
Lancaster
“My Lord of Cornwall” now at every word;
And happy is the man whom he vouchsafes,
For vailing of his bonnet, one good look.
Thus, arm in arm, the king and he doth march:
Nay, more, the guard upon his lordship waits,
And all the court begins to flatter him.
Warwick
Thus leaning on the shoulder of the king,
He nods, and scorns, and smiles at those that pass.
Elder Mortimer
Doth no man take exceptions at the slave?
Lancaster
All stomach him, but none dare speak a word.
Younger Mortimer
Ah, that bewrays their baseness, Lancaster!
Were all the earls and barons of my mind,
We’d hale him from the bosom of the king,
And at the court-gate hang the peasant up,
Who, swollen with venom of ambitious pride,
Will be the ruin of the realm and us.
Warwick
Here comes my Lord of Canterbury’s grace.
Lancaster
His countenance bewrays he is displeased.
Enter the Archbishop of Canterbury and an Attendant.
Archbishop of Canterbury
First, were his sacred garments rent and torn;
Then laid they violent hands upon him; next,
Himself imprisoned, and his goods asseized:
This certify the Pope: away, take horse. Exit Attendant.
Lancaster
My lord, will you take arms against the king?
Archbishop of Canterbury
What need I? God himself is up in arms
When violence is offered to the church.
Younger Mortimer
Then will you join with us, that be his peers,
To banish or behead that Gaveston?
Archbishop of Canterbury
What else, my lords? for it concerns me near;
The bishoprick of Coventry is his.
Enter Queen Isabella.
Younger Mortimer
Madam, whither walks your majesty so fast?
Queen Isabella
Unto the forest, gentle Mortimer,
To live in grief and baleful discontent;
For now my lord the king regards me not,
But dotes upon the love of Gaveston:
He claps his cheeks, and hangs about his neck,
Smiles in his face, and whispers in his ears;
And, when I come, he frowns, as who should say,
“Go whither thou wilt, seeing I have Gaveston.”
Elder Mortimer
Is it not strange that he is thus bewitched?
Younger Mortimer
Madam, return unto the court again:
That sly inveigling Frenchman we’ll exile,
Or lose our lives; and yet, ere that day come,
The king shall lose his crown; for we have power,
And courage too, to be revenged at full.
Archbishop of Canterbury
But yet lift not your swords against the king.
Lancaster
No; but we will lift Gaveston from hence.
Warwick
And war must be the means, or he’ll stay still.
Queen Isabella
Then let him stay; for, rather than my lord
Shall be oppressed with civil mutinies,
I will endure a melancholy life,
And let him frolic with his minion.
Archbishop of Canterbury
My lords, to ease all this, but hear me speak:
We and the rest, that are his counsellors,
Will meet, and with a general consent
Confirm his banishment with our hands and seals.
Lancaster
What we confirm the king will frustrate.
Younger Mortimer
Then may we lawfully revolt from him.
Warwick
But say, my lord, where shall this meeting be?
Archbishop of Canterbury
At the New Temple.
Younger Mortimer
Content.
Archbishop of Canterbury
And, in the meantime, I’ll entreat you all
To cross to Lambeth, and there stay with me.
Lancaster
Come, then, let’s away.
Younger Mortimer
Madam, farewell.
Queen Isabella
Farewell, sweet Mortimer, and, for my sake,
Forbear to levy arms against the king.
Younger Mortimer
Ay, if words will serve; if not, I must.
Exeunt.