SCENE ONE
A street in London .
Enter GAVESTON , reading a letter . GAVESTON :
My father is deceas'd. Come, Gaveston ,
And share the kingdom with thy dearest friend .
Ah, words that make me surfeit with delight!
What greater bliss can hap to Gaveston
Than live and be the favourite of a king!
Sweet prince, I come! these, these thy amorous lines
Might have enforc'd me to have swum from France,
And, like Leander, gasp'd upon the sand,
So thou wouldst smile, and take me in thine arms.
The sight of London to my exil'd eyes
Is as Elysium to a new-come soul:
Not that I love the city or the men,
But that it harbours him I hold so dear, ÔÇô
The king, upon whose bosom let me die,
And with the world be still at enmity.
What need the arctic people love star-light,
To whom the sun shines both by day and night?
Farewell base stooping to the lordly peers!
My knee shall bow to none but to the king.
As for the multitude, that are but sparks,
Rak'd up in embers of their poverty.
Tanti , ÔÇô I'll fawn first on the wind,
That glanceth at my lips, and flieth away.
Enter three POOR MEN .
But how now! what are these? POOR MEN :
Such as desire your worship's service. GAVESTON :
What canst thou do? FIRST POOR MAN :
I can ride. GAVESTON :
But I have no horses. What art thou? SECOND POOR MAN :
A traveller. GAVESTON :
Let me see; thou wouldst do well
To wait at my trencher and tell me lies at dinnertime,
And as I like your discoursing, I'll have you.
And what art thou? THIRD POOR MAN :
A soldier, that hath serv'd against the Scot. GAVESTON :
Why, there are hospitals for such as you:
I have no war, and therefore, sir, be gone. THIRD POOR MAN :
Farewell, and perish by a soldier's hand,
That wouldst reward them with an hospital! GAVESTON ( aside ):
Ay, ay, these words of his move me as much
As if a goose should play the porpintine
And dart her plumes, thinking to pierce my breast.
But yet it is no pain to speak men fair;
I'll flatter these, and make them live in hope.
( To the men ) You know that I came lately out of France,
And yet I have not view'd my lord the king:
If I speed well, I'll entertain you all. ALL :
We thank your worship. GAVESTON :
I have some business: leave me to myself. ALL :
We will wait here about the court. GAVESTON :
Do.
Exeunt POOR MEN .
These are not men for me.
I must have wanton poets, pleasant wits,
Musicians, that with touching of a string
May draw the pliant king which way I please:
Music and poetry is his delight;
Therefore I'll have Italian masques by night,
Sweet speeches, comedies, and pleasing shows;
And in the day, when he shall walk abroad,
Like sylvan nymphs my pages shall be clad;
My men, like satyrs grazing on the lawns,
Shall with their goat-feet dance an antic hay;
Sometime a lovely boy in Dian's shape,
With hair that gilds the water as it glides,
Crownets of pearl about his naked arms,
And in his sportful hands an olive-tree,
To hide those parts which men delight to see,
Shall bathe him in a spring; and there, hard by,
One like Actaeon, peeping through the grove,
Shall by the angry goddess be transform'd,
And running in the likeness of an hart,
By yelping hounds pull'd down, and seem to die:
Such things as these best please his majesty.
Here comes my lord! the king and the nobles
From the parliament. I'll stand aside.
Retires .
Enter KING EDWARD , KENT , LANCASTER , the ELDER MORTIMER , the YOUNGER MORTIMER , WARWICK , PEMBROKE , and ATTENDANTS . KING EDWARD :
Lancaster! LANCASTER :
My lord? GAVESTON ( aside ):
That Earl of Lancaster do I abhor. KING EDWARD :
Will you not grant me this? ( Aside ) In spite of them
I'll have my will; and these two Mortimers,
That cross me thus, shall know I am displeased. ELDER MORTIMER :
If you love us, my lord, hate Gaveston. GAVESTON ( aside ):
That villain Mortimer! I'll be his death. YOUNGER MORTIMER :
Mine uncle here, this earl, and I myself,
Were sworn to your father at his death,
That he should ne'er return into the realm:
And know, my lord, ere I will break my oath,
This sword of mine, that should offend your foes,
Shall sleep within the scabbard at thy need,
And underneath thy banners march who will,
For Mortimer will hang his armour up. GAVESTON ( aside ):
Mort dieu! KING EDWARD :
Well, Mortimer, I'll make thee rue these words.
Beseems it thee to contradict thy king?
Frown'st thou thereat, aspiring Lancaster?
The sword shall plane the furrows of thy brows,
And hew these knees that now are grown so stiff.
I will have Gaveston; and you shall know
What danger 'tis to stand against your king. GAVESTON ( aside ):
Well done, Ned! LANCASTER :
My lord, why do you thus incense your peers,
That naturally would love and honour you,
But for that base and obscure Gaveston?
Four earldoms have I, besides Lancaster, ÔÇô
Derby, Salisbury, Lincoln, Leicester;
These will I sell, to give my soldiers pay,
Ere Gaveston shall stay within the realm.
Therefore, if he be come, expel him straight. KENT :
Barons and earls, your pride hath made me mute;
But now I'll speak, and to the proof, I hope.
I do remember, in my father's days,
Lord Percy of the North, being highly mov'd,
Brav'd Mowberay in presence of the king;
For which, had not his highness lov'd him well,
He should have lost his head; but with his look
Th' undaunted spirit of Percy was appeas'd,
And Mowberay and he were reconcil'd:
Yet dare you brave the king unto his face.
Brother, revenge it! And let these their heads
Preach upon poles, for trespass of their tongues! WARWICK :
O, our heads! KING EDWARD :
Ay, yours! And therefore I would wish you grant  WARWICK :
Bridle thy anger, gentle Mortimer. YOUNGER MORTIMER :
I cannot, nor I will not! I must speak.
Cousin, our hands I hope shall fence our heads,
And strike off his that makes you threaten us.
Come, let us leave the brain-sick king,
And henceforth parley with our naked swords. ELDER MORTIMER :
Wiltshire hath men enough to save our heads. WARWICK :
All Warwickshire will love him for my sake. LANCASTER :
And northward Gaveston hath many friends.
Adieu, my lord; and either change your mind,
Or look to see the throne, where you should sit,
To float in blood, and at thy wanton head
The glozing head of thy base minion thrown.
Exeunt all except KING EDWARD , KENT , GAVESTON , and ATTENDANTS . KING EDWARD :
I cannot brook these haughty menaces:
Am I a king, and must be over-rul'd?
Brother, display my ensigns in the field:
I'll bandy with the barons and the earls,
And either die, or live with Gaveston. GAVESTON :
I can no longer keep me from my lord.
Comes forward . KING EDWARD :
What, Gaveston! Welcome! Kiss not my hand:
Embrace me, Gaveston, as I do thee.
Why shouldst thou kneel? know'st thou not who I am?
Thy friend, thyself, another Gaveston!
Not Hylas was more mourned of Hercules
Than thou hast been of me since thy exile. GAVESTON :
And since I went from hence, no soul in hell
Hath felt more torment than poor Gaveston. KING EDWARD :
I know it. Brother, welcome home my friend.
Now let the treacherous Mortimers conspire,
And that high-minded Earl of Lancaster:
I have my wish, in that I joy thy sight;
And sooner shall the sea o'erwhelm my land
Than bear the ship that shall transport thee hence.
I here create thee Lord High Chamberlain,
Chief Secretary to the state and me,
Earl of Cornwall, King and Lord of Man. GAVESTON :
My lord, these titles far exceed my worth. KENT :
Brother, the least of these may well suffice
For one of greater birth than Gaveston. KING EDWARD :
Cease, brother, for I cannot brook these words.
Thy worth, sweet friend, is far above my gifts:
Therefore, to equal it, receive my heart.
If for these dignities thou be envied,
I'll give thee more; for, but to honour thee,
Is Edward pleas'd with kingly regiment.
Fear'st thou thy person? thou shalt have a guard:
Wantest thou gold? go to my treasury:
Wouldst thou be lov'd and fear'd? receive my seal.
Save or condemn, and in our name command
What so thy mind affects, or fancy likes. GAVESTON :
It shall suffice me to enjoy your love;
Which whiles I have, I think myself as great
As Caesar riding in the Roman street,
With captive kings at his triumphant car.
Enter the BISHOP OF COVENTRY . KING EDWARD :
Whither goes my Lord of Coventry so fast? BISHOP OF COVENTRY :
To celebrate your father's exequies.
But is that wicked Gaveston return'd? KING EDWARD :
Ay, priest, and lives to be reveng'd on thee,
That wert the only cause of his exile. GAVESTON :
'Tis true; and, but for reverence of these robes,
Thou shouldst not plod one foot beyond this place. BISHOP OF COVENTRY :
I did no more than I was bound to do:
And, Gaveston, unless thou be reclaim'd,
As then I did incense the parliament,
So will I now, and thou shalt back to France. GAVESTON :
Saving your reverence, you must pardon me.
Laying hands on the BISHOP . KING EDWARD :
Throw off his golden mitre, rend his stole,
And in the channel christen him anew! KENT :
Ah, brother, lay not violent hands on him!
For he'll complain unto the see of Rome. GAVESTON :
Let him complain unto the see of hell:
I'll be reveng'd on him for my exile. KING EDWARD :
No, spare his life, but seize upon his goods:
Be thou lord bishop, and receive his rents,
And make him serve thee as thy chaplain.
I give him thee; here, use him as thou wilt. GAVESTON :
He shall to prison, and there die in bolts. KING EDWARD :
Ay, to the Tower, the Fleet, or where thou wilt. BISHOP OF COVENTRY :
For this offence be thou accurs'd of God! KING EDWARD :
Who's there? Convey this priest to the Tower. BISHOP OF COVENTRY :
True, true. KING EDWARD :
But, in the meantime, Gaveston, away,
And take possession of his house and goods.
Come, follow me, and thou shalt have my guard
To see it done, and bring thee safe again. GAVESTON :
What should a priest do with so fair a house?
A prison may beseem his holiness.
Exeunt .
SCENE TWO
Near the King's Palace .
Enter, on one side, the ELDER and the YOUNGER MORTIMER ; 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 tyrannize 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'll hale him from the bosom of the king,
And at the court-gate hang the peasant up,
Who, swoln 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 displeas'd.
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 imprison'd, and his goods asseiz'd.
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 offer'd 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 bishopric 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 bewitch'd? 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 reveng'd at full. ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY :
But yet lift not your swords against the king. LANCASTER :
No; but we'll 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 oppress'd by 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 .
SCENE THREE
A street in London .
Enter GAVESTON and KENT . GAVESTON :
Edmund, the mighty prince of Lancaster,
That hath more earldoms than an ass can bear,
And both the Mortimers, two goodly men,
With Guy of Warwick, that redoubted knight,
Are gone towards Lambeth: there let them remain.
Exeunt .
SCENE FOUR
The New Temple .
Enter LANCASTER , WARWICK , PEMBROKE , the ELDER MORTIMER , the YOUNGER MORTIMER , the ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY , and ATTENDANTS . LANCASTER :
Here is the form of Gaveston's exile.
May it please your lordship to subscribe your name. ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY :
Give me the paper.
He subscribes, as the others do after him . LANCASTER :
Quick, quick, my lord; I long to write my name. WARWICK :
But I long more to see him banish'd hence. YOUNGER MORTIMER :
The name of Mortimer shall fright the king,
Unless he be declin'd from that base peasant.
Enter KING EDWARD , GAVESTON , and KENT . KING EDWARD :
What, are you mov'd that Gaveston sits here?
It is our pleasure; we will have it so. LANCASTER :
Your grace doth well to place him by your side,
For nowhere else the new earl is so safe. ELDER MORTIMER :
What man of noble birth can brook this sight?
Quam male conveniunt!
See what a scornful look the peasant casts! PEMBROKE :
Can kingly lions fawn on creeping ants? WARWICK :
Ignoble vassal, that, like Phaeton,
Aspir'st unto the guidance of the sun! YOUNGER MORTIMER :
Their downfall is at hand, their forces down:
We will not thus be fac'd and over-peer'd. KING EDWARD :
Lay hands on that traitor Mortimer! ELDER MORTIMER :
Lay hands on that traitor Gaveston! KENT :
Is this the duty that you owe your king? WARWICK :
We know our duties, let him know his peers. KING EDWARD :
Whither will you bear him? Stay, or ye shall die! ELDER MORTIMER :
We are no traitors, therefore threaten not. GAVESTON :
No, threaten not, my lord, but pay them home!
Were I a king ÔÇô YOUNGER MORTIMER :
Thou, villain! wherefore talk'st of a king,
That hardly art a gentleman by birth? KING EDWARD :
Were he a peasant, being my minion,
I'll make the proudest of you stoop to him. LANCASTER :
My lord, you may not thus disparage us.
Away, I say, with hateful Gaveston! ELDER MORTIMER :
And with the Earl of Kent that favours him.
ATTENDANTS remove GAVESTON and KENT . KING EDWARD :
Nay, then, lay violent hands upon your king!
Here, Mortimer, sit thou in Edward's throne;
Warwick and Lancaster, wear you my crown.
Was ever king thus over-rul'd as I? LANCASTER :
Learn, then, to rule us better, and the realm. YOUNGER MORTIMER :
What we have done, our heart-blood shall maintain. WARWICK :
Think you that we can brook this upstart pride? KING EDWARD :
Anger and wrathful fury stops my speech. ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY :
Why are you mov'd? Be patient, my lord,
And see what we your counsellors have done. YOUNGER MORTIMER :
My lords, now let us all be resolute,
And either have our wills, or lose our lives. KING EDWARD :
Meet you for this, proud over-daring peers?
Ere my sweet Gaveston shall part from me,
This isle shall fleet upon the ocean,
And wander to the unfrequented Inde. ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY :
You know that I am legate to the Pope:
On your allegiance to the see of Rome,
Subscribe, as we have done, to his exile. YOUNGER MORTIMER :
Curse him, if he refuse; and then may we
Depose him, and elect another king. KING EDWARD :
Ay, there it goes! But yet I will not yield:
Curse me! Depose me! Do the worst you can! LANCASTER :
Then linger not, my lord, but do it straight. ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY :
Remember how the bishop was abus'd:
Either banish him that was the cause thereof,
Or I will presently discharge these lords
Of duty and allegiance due to thee. KING EDWARD ( aside ):
It boots me not to threat; I must speak fair:
The legate of the Pope will be obey'd.
( Aloud ) My lord, you shall be Chancellor of the realm;
Thou, Lancaster, High Admiral of our fleet;
Young Mortimer and his uncle shall be earls;
And you, Lord Warwick, President of the North;
And thou of Wales. If this content you not,
Make several kingdoms of this monarchy,
And share it equally amongst you all,
So I may have some nook or corner left,
To frolic with my dearest Gaveston. ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY :
Nothing shall alter us; we are resolv'd. LANCASTER :
Come, come, subscribe. YOUNGER MORTIMER :
Why should you love him whom the world hates so? KING EDWARD :
Because he loves me more than all the world.
Ah, none but rude and savage-minded men
Would seek the ruin of my Gaveston!
You that be noble-born should pity him. WARWICK :
You that are princely-born should shake him off:
For shame, subscribe, and let the lown depart. ELDER MORTIMER :
Urge him, my lord. ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY :
Are you content to banish him the realm? KING EDWARD :
I see I must, and therefore am content:
Instead of ink, I'll write it with my tears.
Subscribes . YOUNGER MORTIMER :
The king is love-sick for his minion. KING EDWARD :
'Tis done: and now, accursed hand, fall off! LANCASTER :
Give it me: I'll have it publish'd in the streets. YOUNGER MORTIMER :
I'll see him presently despatch'd away. ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY :
Now is my heart at ease. WARWICK :
And so is mine. PEMBROKE :
This will be good news to the common sort. ELDER MORTIMER :
Be it or no, he shall not linger here.
Exeunt all except KING EDWARD . KING EDWARD :
How fast they run to banish him I love!
They would not stir, were it to do me good.
Why should a king be subject to a priest?
Proud Rome, that hatchest such imperial grooms,
For these thy superstitious taper-lights,
Wherewith thy antichristian churches blaze,
I'll fire thy crazed buildings, and enforce
The papal towers to kiss the lowly ground,
With slaughter'd priests make Tiber's channel swell,
And banks rais'd higher with their sepulchres!
As for the peers, that back the clergy thus,
If I be king, not one of them shall live.
Re-enter GAVESTON . GAVESTON :
My lord, I hear it whisper'd everywhere,
That I am banish'd and must fly the land. KING EDWARD :
'Tis true, sweet Gaveston: O, were it false!
The legate of the Pope will have it so,
And thou must hence, or I shall be depos'd.
But I will reign to be reveng'd of them;
And therefore, sweet friend, take it patiently.
Live where thou wilt, I'll send thee gold enough;
And long thou shalt not stay, or, if thou dost,
I'll come to thee; my love shall ne'er decline. GAVESTON :
Is all my hope turn'd to this hell of grief? KING EDWARD :
Rend not my heart with thy too-piercing words.
Thou from this land, I from myself am banish'd. GAVESTON :
To go from hence grieves not poor Gaveston;
But to forsake you, in whose gracious looks
The blessedness of Gaveston remains;
For nowhere else seeks he felicity. KING EDWARD :
And only this torments my wretched soul,
That, whether I will or no, thou must depart.
Be Governor of Ireland in my stead,
And there abide till fortune call thee home.
Here, take my picture, and let me wear thine:
They exchange pictures .
O, might I keep thee here, as I do this,
Happy were I! but now most miserable. GAVESTON :
'Tis something to be pitied of a king. KING EDWARD :
Thou shalt not hence; I'll hide thee, Gaveston. GAVESTON :
I shall be found, and then 'twill grieve me more. KING EDWARD :
Kind words and mutual talk makes our grief greater:
Therefore, with dumb embracement, let us part.
Stay, Gaveston; I cannot leave thee thus. GAVESTON :
For every look, my lord, drops down a tear.
Seeing I must go, do not renew my sorrow. KING EDWARD :
The time is little that thou hast to stay,
And, therefore, give me leave to look my fill.
But, come, sweet friend; I'll bear thee on thy way. GAVESTON :
The peers will frown. KING EDWARD :
I pass not for their anger. Come, let's go:
O, that we might as well return as go!
Enter QUEEN ISABELLA . QUEEN ISABELLA :
Whither goes my lord? KING EDWARD :
Fawn not on me, French strumpet; get thee gone! QUEEN ISABELLA :
On whom but on my husband should I fawn? GAVESTON :
On Mortimer; with whom, ungentle queen, ÔÇô
I say no more ÔÇô judge you the rest, my lord. QUEEN ISABELLA :
In saying this, thou wrong'st me, Gaveston.
Is't not enough that thou corrupt'st my lord,
And art a bawd to his affections,
But thou must call mine honour thus in question? GAVESTON :
I mean not so; your grace must pardon me. KING EDWARD :
Thou art too familiar with that Mortimer,
And by thy means is Gaveston exil'd.
But I would wish thee reconcile the lords,
Or thou shalt ne'er be reconcil'd to me. QUEEN ISABELLA :
Your highness knows, it lies not in my power. KING EDWARD :
Away, then! touch me not. ÔÇô Come, Gaveston. QUEEN ISABELLA :
Villain, 'tis thou that robb'st me of my lord. GAVESTON :
Madam, 'tis you that rob me of my lord. KING EDWARD :
Speak not unto her: let her droop and pine. QUEEN ISABELLA :
Wherein, my lord, have I deserv'd these words?
Witness the tears that Isabella sheds,
Witness this heart, that, sighing for thee, breaks,
How dear my lord is to poor Isabel! KING EDWARD :
And witness heaven how dear thou art to me.
There weep; for, till my Gaveston be repeal'd,
Assure thyself thou com'st not in my sight.
Exeunt KING EDWARD and GAVESTON . QUEEN ISABELLA :
O miserable and distressed queen!
Would, when I left sweet France, and was embarked,
That charming Circe, walking on the waves,
Had chang'd my shape! or at the marriage-day
The cup of Hymen had been full of poison!
Or with those arms, that twin'd about my neck,
I had been stifled, and not liv'd to see
The king my lord thus abandon me!
Like frantic Juno will I fill the earth
With ghastly murmur of my sighs and cries;
For never doted Jove on Ganymede
So much as he on cursed Gaveston.
But that will more exasperate his wrath;
I must entreat him, I must speak him fair,
And be a means to call home Gaveston.
And yet he'll ever dote on Gaveston;
And so am I for ever miserable.
Re-enter LANCASTER , WARWICK , PEMBROKE , the ELDER and the YOUNGER MORTIMER . LANCASTER :
Look, where the sister of the king of France
Sits wringing of her hands and beats her breast! WARWICK :
The king, I fear, hath ill entreated her. PEMBROKE :
Hard is the heart that injures such a saint. YOUNGER MORTIMER :
I know 'tis 'long of Gaveston she weeps. ELDER MORTIMER :
Why? He is gone. YOUNGER MORTIMER :
Madam, how fares your grace? QUEEN ISABELLA :
Ah, Mortimer, now breaks the king's hate forth,
And he confesseth that he loves me not! YOUNGER MORTIMER :
Cry quittance, madam, then, and love not him. QUEEN ISABELLA :
No, rather will I die a thousand deaths.
And yet I love in vain; he'll ne'er love me. LANCASTER :
Fear ye not, madam; now his minion's gone,
His wanton humour will be quickly left. QUEEN ISABELLA :
O, never, Lancaster! I am enjoin'd
To sue unto you all for his repeal:
This wills my lord, and this must I perform,
Or else be banish'd from his highness' presence. LANCASTER :
For his repeal, madam? He comes not back,
Unless the sea cast up his shipwrack'd body. WARWICK :
And to behold so sweet a sight as that,
There's none here but would run his horse to death. YOUNGER MORTIMER :
But, madam, would you have us call him home? QUEEN ISABELLA :
Ay, Mortimer, for, till he be restor'd,
The angry king hath banish'd me the court;
And, therefore, as thou lov'st and tender'st me,
Be thou my advocate unto these peers. YOUNGER MORTIMER :
What, would you have me plead for Gaveston? ELDER MORTIMER :
Plead for him he that will, I am resolv'd. LANCASTER :
And so am I, my lord: dissuade the queen. QUEEN ISABELLA :
O, Lancaster, let him dissuade the king!
For 'tis against my will he should return. WARWICK :
Then speak not for him; let the peasant go. QUEEN ISABELLA :
'Tis for myself I speak, and not for him. PEMBROKE :
No speaking will prevail, and therefore cease. YOUNGER MORTIMER :
Fair queen, forbear to angle for the fish
Which, being caught, strikes him that takes it dead;
I mean that vile torpedo, Gaveston,
That now, I hope, floats on the Irish seas. QUEEN ISABELLA :
Sweet Mortimer, sit down by me a while,
And I will tell thee reasons of such weight
As thou wilt soon subscribe to his repeal. YOUNGER MORTIMER :
It is impossible: but speak your mind. QUEEN ISABELLA :
Then thus; ÔÇô but none shall hear it but ourselves.
Talks to YOUNGER MORTIMER apart . LANCASTER :
My lords, albeit the queen win Mortimer,
Will you be resolute and hold with me? ELDER MORTIMER :
Not I, against my nephew. PEMBROKE :
Fear not; the queen's words cannot alter him. WARWICK :
No? Do but mark how earnestly she pleads! LANCASTER :
And see how coldly his looks make denial! WARWICK :
She smiles. Now, for my life, his mind is chang'd! LANCASTER :
I'll rather lose his friendship, I, than grant. YOUNGER MORTIMER :
Well, of necessity it must be so.
My lords, that I abhor base Gaveston
I hope your honours make no question,
And therefore, though I plead for his repeal,
'Tis not for his sake, but for our avail,
Nay, for the realm's behoof, and for the king's. LANCASTER :
Fie, Mortimer, dishonour not thyself!
Can this be true, 'twas good to banish him?
And is this true, to call him home again?
Such reasons make white black, and dark night day. YOUNGER MORTIMER :
My lord of Lancaster, mark the respect. LANCASTER :
In no respect can contraries be true. QUEEN ISABELLA :
Yet, good my lord, hear what he can allege. WARWICK :
All that he speaks is nothing. We are resolv'd. YOUNGER MORTIMER :
Do you not wish that Gaveston were dead? PEMBROKE :
I would he were! YOUNGER MORTIMER :
Why, then, my lord, give me but leave to speak. ELDER MORTIMER :
But, nephew, do not play the sophister. YOUNGER MORTIMER :
This which I urge is of a burning zeal
To mend the king and do our country good.
Know you not Gaveston hath store of gold,
Which may in Ireland purchase him such friends
As he will front the mightiest of us all?
And whereas he shall live and be belov'd,
'Tis hard for us to work his overthrow. WARWICK :
Mark you but that, my lord of Lancaster. YOUNGER MORTIMER :
But, were he here, detested as he is,
How easily might some base slave be suborn'd
To greet his lordship with a poniard,
And none so much as blame the murderer,
But rather praise him for that brave attempt,
And in the chronicle enrol his name
For purging of the realm of such a plague! PEMBROKE :
He saith true. LANCASTER :
Ay, but how chance this was not done before? YOUNGER MORTIMER :
Because, my lords, it was not thought upon.
Nay, more, when he shall know it lies in us
To banish him, and then to call him home,
'Twill make him vail the top-flag of his pride,
And fear to offend the meanest nobleman. ELDER MORTIMER :
But how if he do not, nephew? YOUNGER MORTIMER :
Then may we with some colour rise in arms;
For, howsoever we have borne it out,
'Tis treason to be up against the king;
So shall we have the people of our side,
Which, for his father's sake, lean to the king,
But cannot brook a night-grown mushrump,
Such a one as my Lord of Cornwall is,
Should bear us down of the nobility.
And, when the commons and the nobles join,
'Tis not the king can buckler Gaveston;
We'll pull him from the strongest hold he hath.
My lords, if to perform this I be slack,
Think me as base a groom as Gaveston. LANCASTER :
On that condition, Lancaster will grant. WARWICK :
And so will Pembroke and I. ELDER MORTIMER :
And I. YOUNGER MORTIMER :
In this I count me highly gratified,
And Mortimer will rest at your command. QUEEN ISABELLA :
And when this favour Isabel forgets,
Then let her live abandon'd and forlorn.
But see, in happy time, my lord the king,
Having brought the Earl of Cornwall on his way,
Is new return'd. This news will glad him much:
Yet not so much as me; I love him more
Than he can Gaveston. Would he lov'd me
But half so much! Then were I treble-blest.
Re-enter KING EDWARD , mourning . KING EDWARD :
He's gone, and for his absence thus I mourn:
Did never sorrow go so near my heart
As doth the want of my sweet Gaveston;
And, could my crown's revenue bring him back,
I would freely give it to his enemies,
And think I gain'd, having bought so dear a friend. QUEEN ISABELLA :
Hark, how he harps upon his minion! KING EDWARD :
My heart is as an anvil unto sorrow,
Which beats upon it like the Cyclops' hammers,
And with the noise turns up my giddy brain.
And makes me frantic for my Gaveston.
Ah, had some bloodless Fury rose from hell,
And with my kingly sceptre struck me dead,
When I was forc'd to leave my Gaveston! LANCASTER :
Diablo , what passions call you these? QUEEN ISABELLA :
My gracious lord, I come to bring you news. KING EDWARD :
That you have parled with your Mortimer? QUEEN ISABELLA :
That Gaveston, my lord, shall be repeal'd. KING EDWARD :
Repeal'd! The news is too sweet to be true. QUEEN ISABELLA :
But will you love me, if you find it so? KING EDWARD :
If it be so, what will not Edward do? QUEEN ISABELLA :
For Gaveston, but not for Isabel. KING EDWARD :
For thee, fair queen, if thou lov'st Gaveston,
I'll hang a golden tongue about thy neck,
Seeing thou hast pleaded with so good success. QUEEN ISABELLA :
No jewels hang about my neck
Than these, my lord; nor let me have more wealth
Than I may fetch from this rich treasury.
O, how a kiss revives poor Isabel! KING EDWARD :
Once more receive my hand, and let this be
A second marriage 'twixt thyself and me. QUEEN ISABELLA :
And may it prove more happy than the first!
My gentle lord, bespeak these nobles fair,
That wait attendance for a gracious look,
And on their knees salute your majesty. KING EDWARD :
Courageous Lancaster, embrace thy king;
And, as gross vapours perish by the sun,
Even so let hatred with thy sovereign's smile:
Live thou with me as my companion. LANCASTER :
This salutation overjoys my heart. KING EDWARD :
Warwick shall be my chiefest counsellor:
These silver hairs will more adorn my court
Than gaudy silks or rich embroidery.
Chide me, sweet Warwick, if I go astray. WARWICK :
Slay me, my lord, when I offend your grace. KING EDWARD :
In solemn triumphs and in public shows
Pembroke shall bear the sword before the king. PEMBROKE :
And with this sword Pembroke will fight for you. KING EDWARD :
But wherefore walks young Mortimer aside?
Be thou commander of our royal fleet;
Or, if that lofty office like thee not,
I make thee here Lord Marshal of the realm. YOUNGER MORTIMER :
My lord, I'll marshal so your enemies,
As England shall be quiet, and you safe. KING EDWARD :
And as for you, Lord Mortimer of Chirke,
Whose great achievements in our foreign war
Deserve no common place nor mean reward,
Be you the general of the levied troops
That now are ready to assail the Scots. ELDER MORTIMER :
In this your grace hath highly honour'd me,
For with my nature war doth best agree. QUEEN ISABELLA :
Now is the king of England rich and strong,
Having the love of his renowned peers. KING EDWARD :
Ay, Isabel, ne'er was my heart so light.
Clerk of the crown, direct our warrant forth,
For Gaveston, to Ireland!
Enter BEAUMONT with warrant .
Beaumont, fly
As fast as Iris or Jove's Mercury. BEAUMONT :
It shall be done, my gracious lord.
Exit . KING EDWARD :
Lord Mortimer, we leave you to your charge.
Now let us in, and feast it royally.
Against our friend the Earl of Cornwall comes
We'll have a general tilt and tournament,
And then his marriage shall be solemnis'd;
For wot you not that I have made him sure
Unto our cousin, the Earl of Gloucester's heir? LANCASTER :
Such news we hear, my lord. KING EDWARD :
That day, if not for him, yet for my sake,
Who in the triumph will be challenger,
Spare for no cost. We will requite your love. WARWICK :
In this or aught your highness shall command us. KING EDWARD :
Thanks, gentle Warwick. Come, let's in and revel.
Exeunt all except the ELDER and the YOUNGER MORTIMER . ELDER MORTIMER :
Nephew, I must to Scotland; thou stay'st here.
Leave now to oppose thyself against the king.
Thou seest by nature he is mild and calm;
And, seeing his mind so dotes on Gaveston,
Let him without controlment have his will.
The mightiest kings have had their minions;
Great Alexander lov'd Hephaestion,
The conquering Hercules for Hylas wept,
And for Patroclus stern Achilles droop'd.
And not kings only, but the wisest men;
The Roman Tully lov'd Octavius,
Grave Socrates wild Alcibiades.
Then let his grace, whose youth is flexible,
And promiseth as much as we can wish,
Freely enjoy that vain light-headed earl,
For riper years will wean him from such toys. YOUNGER MORTIMER :
Uncle, his wanton humour grieves not me;
But this I scorn, that one so basely born
Should by his sovereign's favour grow so pert,
And riot it with the treasure of the realm,
While soldiers mutiny for want of pay.
He wears a lord's revenue on his back,
And, Midas-like, he jets it in the court,
With base outlandish cullions at his heels,
Whose proud fantastic liveries make such show
As if that Proteus, god of shapes, appear'd.
I have not seen a dapper Jack so brisk.
He wears a short Italian hooded cloak,
Larded with pearl, and in his Tuscan cap
A jewel of more value than the crown.
Whiles other walk below, the king and he
From out a window laugh at such as we,
And flout our train, and jest at our attire.
Uncle, 'tis this that makes me impatient. ELDER MORTIMER :
But, nephew, now you see the king is chang'd. YOUNGER MORTIMER :
Then so am I, and live to do him service.
But, whiles I have a sword, a hand, a heart,
I will not yield to any such upstart.
You know my mind: come, uncle, let's away.
Exeunt .
A street in London .
Enter GAVESTON , reading a letter . GAVESTON :
My father is deceas'd. Come, Gaveston ,
And share the kingdom with thy dearest friend .
Ah, words that make me surfeit with delight!
What greater bliss can hap to Gaveston
Than live and be the favourite of a king!
Sweet prince, I come! these, these thy amorous lines
Might have enforc'd me to have swum from France,
And, like Leander, gasp'd upon the sand,
So thou wouldst smile, and take me in thine arms.
The sight of London to my exil'd eyes
Is as Elysium to a new-come soul:
Not that I love the city or the men,
But that it harbours him I hold so dear, ÔÇô
The king, upon whose bosom let me die,
And with the world be still at enmity.
What need the arctic people love star-light,
To whom the sun shines both by day and night?
Farewell base stooping to the lordly peers!
My knee shall bow to none but to the king.
As for the multitude, that are but sparks,
Rak'd up in embers of their poverty.
Tanti , ÔÇô I'll fawn first on the wind,
That glanceth at my lips, and flieth away.
Enter three POOR MEN .
But how now! what are these? POOR MEN :
Such as desire your worship's service. GAVESTON :
What canst thou do? FIRST POOR MAN :
I can ride. GAVESTON :
But I have no horses. What art thou? SECOND POOR MAN :
A traveller. GAVESTON :
Let me see; thou wouldst do well
To wait at my trencher and tell me lies at dinnertime,
And as I like your discoursing, I'll have you.
And what art thou? THIRD POOR MAN :
A soldier, that hath serv'd against the Scot. GAVESTON :
Why, there are hospitals for such as you:
I have no war, and therefore, sir, be gone. THIRD POOR MAN :
Farewell, and perish by a soldier's hand,
That wouldst reward them with an hospital! GAVESTON ( aside ):
Ay, ay, these words of his move me as much
As if a goose should play the porpintine
And dart her plumes, thinking to pierce my breast.
But yet it is no pain to speak men fair;
I'll flatter these, and make them live in hope.
( To the men ) You know that I came lately out of France,
And yet I have not view'd my lord the king:
If I speed well, I'll entertain you all. ALL :
We thank your worship. GAVESTON :
I have some business: leave me to myself. ALL :
We will wait here about the court. GAVESTON :
Do.
Exeunt POOR MEN .
These are not men for me.
I must have wanton poets, pleasant wits,
Musicians, that with touching of a string
May draw the pliant king which way I please:
Music and poetry is his delight;
Therefore I'll have Italian masques by night,
Sweet speeches, comedies, and pleasing shows;
And in the day, when he shall walk abroad,
Like sylvan nymphs my pages shall be clad;
My men, like satyrs grazing on the lawns,
Shall with their goat-feet dance an antic hay;
Sometime a lovely boy in Dian's shape,
With hair that gilds the water as it glides,
Crownets of pearl about his naked arms,
And in his sportful hands an olive-tree,
To hide those parts which men delight to see,
Shall bathe him in a spring; and there, hard by,
One like Actaeon, peeping through the grove,
Shall by the angry goddess be transform'd,
And running in the likeness of an hart,
By yelping hounds pull'd down, and seem to die:
Such things as these best please his majesty.
Here comes my lord! the king and the nobles
From the parliament. I'll stand aside.
Retires .
Enter KING EDWARD , KENT , LANCASTER , the ELDER MORTIMER , the YOUNGER MORTIMER , WARWICK , PEMBROKE , and ATTENDANTS . KING EDWARD :
Lancaster! LANCASTER :
My lord? GAVESTON ( aside ):
That Earl of Lancaster do I abhor. KING EDWARD :
Will you not grant me this? ( Aside ) In spite of them
I'll have my will; and these two Mortimers,
That cross me thus, shall know I am displeased. ELDER MORTIMER :
If you love us, my lord, hate Gaveston. GAVESTON ( aside ):
That villain Mortimer! I'll be his death. YOUNGER MORTIMER :
Mine uncle here, this earl, and I myself,
Were sworn to your father at his death,
That he should ne'er return into the realm:
And know, my lord, ere I will break my oath,
This sword of mine, that should offend your foes,
Shall sleep within the scabbard at thy need,
And underneath thy banners march who will,
For Mortimer will hang his armour up. GAVESTON ( aside ):
Mort dieu! KING EDWARD :
Well, Mortimer, I'll make thee rue these words.
Beseems it thee to contradict thy king?
Frown'st thou thereat, aspiring Lancaster?
The sword shall plane the furrows of thy brows,
And hew these knees that now are grown so stiff.
I will have Gaveston; and you shall know
What danger 'tis to stand against your king. GAVESTON ( aside ):
Well done, Ned! LANCASTER :
My lord, why do you thus incense your peers,
That naturally would love and honour you,
But for that base and obscure Gaveston?
Four earldoms have I, besides Lancaster, ÔÇô
Derby, Salisbury, Lincoln, Leicester;
These will I sell, to give my soldiers pay,
Ere Gaveston shall stay within the realm.
Therefore, if he be come, expel him straight. KENT :
Barons and earls, your pride hath made me mute;
But now I'll speak, and to the proof, I hope.
I do remember, in my father's days,
Lord Percy of the North, being highly mov'd,
Brav'd Mowberay in presence of the king;
For which, had not his highness lov'd him well,
He should have lost his head; but with his look
Th' undaunted spirit of Percy was appeas'd,
And Mowberay and he were reconcil'd:
Yet dare you brave the king unto his face.
Brother, revenge it! And let these their heads
Preach upon poles, for trespass of their tongues! WARWICK :
O, our heads! KING EDWARD :
Ay, yours! And therefore I would wish you grant  WARWICK :
Bridle thy anger, gentle Mortimer. YOUNGER MORTIMER :
I cannot, nor I will not! I must speak.
Cousin, our hands I hope shall fence our heads,
And strike off his that makes you threaten us.
Come, let us leave the brain-sick king,
And henceforth parley with our naked swords. ELDER MORTIMER :
Wiltshire hath men enough to save our heads. WARWICK :
All Warwickshire will love him for my sake. LANCASTER :
And northward Gaveston hath many friends.
Adieu, my lord; and either change your mind,
Or look to see the throne, where you should sit,
To float in blood, and at thy wanton head
The glozing head of thy base minion thrown.
Exeunt all except KING EDWARD , KENT , GAVESTON , and ATTENDANTS . KING EDWARD :
I cannot brook these haughty menaces:
Am I a king, and must be over-rul'd?
Brother, display my ensigns in the field:
I'll bandy with the barons and the earls,
And either die, or live with Gaveston. GAVESTON :
I can no longer keep me from my lord.
Comes forward . KING EDWARD :
What, Gaveston! Welcome! Kiss not my hand:
Embrace me, Gaveston, as I do thee.
Why shouldst thou kneel? know'st thou not who I am?
Thy friend, thyself, another Gaveston!
Not Hylas was more mourned of Hercules
Than thou hast been of me since thy exile. GAVESTON :
And since I went from hence, no soul in hell
Hath felt more torment than poor Gaveston. KING EDWARD :
I know it. Brother, welcome home my friend.
Now let the treacherous Mortimers conspire,
And that high-minded Earl of Lancaster:
I have my wish, in that I joy thy sight;
And sooner shall the sea o'erwhelm my land
Than bear the ship that shall transport thee hence.
I here create thee Lord High Chamberlain,
Chief Secretary to the state and me,
Earl of Cornwall, King and Lord of Man. GAVESTON :
My lord, these titles far exceed my worth. KENT :
Brother, the least of these may well suffice
For one of greater birth than Gaveston. KING EDWARD :
Cease, brother, for I cannot brook these words.
Thy worth, sweet friend, is far above my gifts:
Therefore, to equal it, receive my heart.
If for these dignities thou be envied,
I'll give thee more; for, but to honour thee,
Is Edward pleas'd with kingly regiment.
Fear'st thou thy person? thou shalt have a guard:
Wantest thou gold? go to my treasury:
Wouldst thou be lov'd and fear'd? receive my seal.
Save or condemn, and in our name command
What so thy mind affects, or fancy likes. GAVESTON :
It shall suffice me to enjoy your love;
Which whiles I have, I think myself as great
As Caesar riding in the Roman street,
With captive kings at his triumphant car.
Enter the BISHOP OF COVENTRY . KING EDWARD :
Whither goes my Lord of Coventry so fast? BISHOP OF COVENTRY :
To celebrate your father's exequies.
But is that wicked Gaveston return'd? KING EDWARD :
Ay, priest, and lives to be reveng'd on thee,
That wert the only cause of his exile. GAVESTON :
'Tis true; and, but for reverence of these robes,
Thou shouldst not plod one foot beyond this place. BISHOP OF COVENTRY :
I did no more than I was bound to do:
And, Gaveston, unless thou be reclaim'd,
As then I did incense the parliament,
So will I now, and thou shalt back to France. GAVESTON :
Saving your reverence, you must pardon me.
Laying hands on the BISHOP . KING EDWARD :
Throw off his golden mitre, rend his stole,
And in the channel christen him anew! KENT :
Ah, brother, lay not violent hands on him!
For he'll complain unto the see of Rome. GAVESTON :
Let him complain unto the see of hell:
I'll be reveng'd on him for my exile. KING EDWARD :
No, spare his life, but seize upon his goods:
Be thou lord bishop, and receive his rents,
And make him serve thee as thy chaplain.
I give him thee; here, use him as thou wilt. GAVESTON :
He shall to prison, and there die in bolts. KING EDWARD :
Ay, to the Tower, the Fleet, or where thou wilt. BISHOP OF COVENTRY :
For this offence be thou accurs'd of God! KING EDWARD :
Who's there? Convey this priest to the Tower. BISHOP OF COVENTRY :
True, true. KING EDWARD :
But, in the meantime, Gaveston, away,
And take possession of his house and goods.
Come, follow me, and thou shalt have my guard
To see it done, and bring thee safe again. GAVESTON :
What should a priest do with so fair a house?
A prison may beseem his holiness.
Exeunt .
SCENE TWO
Near the King's Palace .
Enter, on one side, the ELDER and the YOUNGER MORTIMER ; 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 tyrannize 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'll hale him from the bosom of the king,
And at the court-gate hang the peasant up,
Who, swoln 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 displeas'd.
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 imprison'd, and his goods asseiz'd.
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 offer'd 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 bishopric 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 bewitch'd? 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 reveng'd at full. ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY :
But yet lift not your swords against the king. LANCASTER :
No; but we'll 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 oppress'd by 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 .
SCENE THREE
A street in London .
Enter GAVESTON and KENT . GAVESTON :
Edmund, the mighty prince of Lancaster,
That hath more earldoms than an ass can bear,
And both the Mortimers, two goodly men,
With Guy of Warwick, that redoubted knight,
Are gone towards Lambeth: there let them remain.
Exeunt .
SCENE FOUR
The New Temple .
Enter LANCASTER , WARWICK , PEMBROKE , the ELDER MORTIMER , the YOUNGER MORTIMER , the ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY , and ATTENDANTS . LANCASTER :
Here is the form of Gaveston's exile.
May it please your lordship to subscribe your name. ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY :
Give me the paper.
He subscribes, as the others do after him . LANCASTER :
Quick, quick, my lord; I long to write my name. WARWICK :
But I long more to see him banish'd hence. YOUNGER MORTIMER :
The name of Mortimer shall fright the king,
Unless he be declin'd from that base peasant.
Enter KING EDWARD , GAVESTON , and KENT . KING EDWARD :
What, are you mov'd that Gaveston sits here?
It is our pleasure; we will have it so. LANCASTER :
Your grace doth well to place him by your side,
For nowhere else the new earl is so safe. ELDER MORTIMER :
What man of noble birth can brook this sight?
Quam male conveniunt!
See what a scornful look the peasant casts! PEMBROKE :
Can kingly lions fawn on creeping ants? WARWICK :
Ignoble vassal, that, like Phaeton,
Aspir'st unto the guidance of the sun! YOUNGER MORTIMER :
Their downfall is at hand, their forces down:
We will not thus be fac'd and over-peer'd. KING EDWARD :
Lay hands on that traitor Mortimer! ELDER MORTIMER :
Lay hands on that traitor Gaveston! KENT :
Is this the duty that you owe your king? WARWICK :
We know our duties, let him know his peers. KING EDWARD :
Whither will you bear him? Stay, or ye shall die! ELDER MORTIMER :
We are no traitors, therefore threaten not. GAVESTON :
No, threaten not, my lord, but pay them home!
Were I a king ÔÇô YOUNGER MORTIMER :
Thou, villain! wherefore talk'st of a king,
That hardly art a gentleman by birth? KING EDWARD :
Were he a peasant, being my minion,
I'll make the proudest of you stoop to him. LANCASTER :
My lord, you may not thus disparage us.
Away, I say, with hateful Gaveston! ELDER MORTIMER :
And with the Earl of Kent that favours him.
ATTENDANTS remove GAVESTON and KENT . KING EDWARD :
Nay, then, lay violent hands upon your king!
Here, Mortimer, sit thou in Edward's throne;
Warwick and Lancaster, wear you my crown.
Was ever king thus over-rul'd as I? LANCASTER :
Learn, then, to rule us better, and the realm. YOUNGER MORTIMER :
What we have done, our heart-blood shall maintain. WARWICK :
Think you that we can brook this upstart pride? KING EDWARD :
Anger and wrathful fury stops my speech. ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY :
Why are you mov'd? Be patient, my lord,
And see what we your counsellors have done. YOUNGER MORTIMER :
My lords, now let us all be resolute,
And either have our wills, or lose our lives. KING EDWARD :
Meet you for this, proud over-daring peers?
Ere my sweet Gaveston shall part from me,
This isle shall fleet upon the ocean,
And wander to the unfrequented Inde. ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY :
You know that I am legate to the Pope:
On your allegiance to the see of Rome,
Subscribe, as we have done, to his exile. YOUNGER MORTIMER :
Curse him, if he refuse; and then may we
Depose him, and elect another king. KING EDWARD :
Ay, there it goes! But yet I will not yield:
Curse me! Depose me! Do the worst you can! LANCASTER :
Then linger not, my lord, but do it straight. ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY :
Remember how the bishop was abus'd:
Either banish him that was the cause thereof,
Or I will presently discharge these lords
Of duty and allegiance due to thee. KING EDWARD ( aside ):
It boots me not to threat; I must speak fair:
The legate of the Pope will be obey'd.
( Aloud ) My lord, you shall be Chancellor of the realm;
Thou, Lancaster, High Admiral of our fleet;
Young Mortimer and his uncle shall be earls;
And you, Lord Warwick, President of the North;
And thou of Wales. If this content you not,
Make several kingdoms of this monarchy,
And share it equally amongst you all,
So I may have some nook or corner left,
To frolic with my dearest Gaveston. ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY :
Nothing shall alter us; we are resolv'd. LANCASTER :
Come, come, subscribe. YOUNGER MORTIMER :
Why should you love him whom the world hates so? KING EDWARD :
Because he loves me more than all the world.
Ah, none but rude and savage-minded men
Would seek the ruin of my Gaveston!
You that be noble-born should pity him. WARWICK :
You that are princely-born should shake him off:
For shame, subscribe, and let the lown depart. ELDER MORTIMER :
Urge him, my lord. ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY :
Are you content to banish him the realm? KING EDWARD :
I see I must, and therefore am content:
Instead of ink, I'll write it with my tears.
Subscribes . YOUNGER MORTIMER :
The king is love-sick for his minion. KING EDWARD :
'Tis done: and now, accursed hand, fall off! LANCASTER :
Give it me: I'll have it publish'd in the streets. YOUNGER MORTIMER :
I'll see him presently despatch'd away. ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY :
Now is my heart at ease. WARWICK :
And so is mine. PEMBROKE :
This will be good news to the common sort. ELDER MORTIMER :
Be it or no, he shall not linger here.
Exeunt all except KING EDWARD . KING EDWARD :
How fast they run to banish him I love!
They would not stir, were it to do me good.
Why should a king be subject to a priest?
Proud Rome, that hatchest such imperial grooms,
For these thy superstitious taper-lights,
Wherewith thy antichristian churches blaze,
I'll fire thy crazed buildings, and enforce
The papal towers to kiss the lowly ground,
With slaughter'd priests make Tiber's channel swell,
And banks rais'd higher with their sepulchres!
As for the peers, that back the clergy thus,
If I be king, not one of them shall live.
Re-enter GAVESTON . GAVESTON :
My lord, I hear it whisper'd everywhere,
That I am banish'd and must fly the land. KING EDWARD :
'Tis true, sweet Gaveston: O, were it false!
The legate of the Pope will have it so,
And thou must hence, or I shall be depos'd.
But I will reign to be reveng'd of them;
And therefore, sweet friend, take it patiently.
Live where thou wilt, I'll send thee gold enough;
And long thou shalt not stay, or, if thou dost,
I'll come to thee; my love shall ne'er decline. GAVESTON :
Is all my hope turn'd to this hell of grief? KING EDWARD :
Rend not my heart with thy too-piercing words.
Thou from this land, I from myself am banish'd. GAVESTON :
To go from hence grieves not poor Gaveston;
But to forsake you, in whose gracious looks
The blessedness of Gaveston remains;
For nowhere else seeks he felicity. KING EDWARD :
And only this torments my wretched soul,
That, whether I will or no, thou must depart.
Be Governor of Ireland in my stead,
And there abide till fortune call thee home.
Here, take my picture, and let me wear thine:
They exchange pictures .
O, might I keep thee here, as I do this,
Happy were I! but now most miserable. GAVESTON :
'Tis something to be pitied of a king. KING EDWARD :
Thou shalt not hence; I'll hide thee, Gaveston. GAVESTON :
I shall be found, and then 'twill grieve me more. KING EDWARD :
Kind words and mutual talk makes our grief greater:
Therefore, with dumb embracement, let us part.
Stay, Gaveston; I cannot leave thee thus. GAVESTON :
For every look, my lord, drops down a tear.
Seeing I must go, do not renew my sorrow. KING EDWARD :
The time is little that thou hast to stay,
And, therefore, give me leave to look my fill.
But, come, sweet friend; I'll bear thee on thy way. GAVESTON :
The peers will frown. KING EDWARD :
I pass not for their anger. Come, let's go:
O, that we might as well return as go!
Enter QUEEN ISABELLA . QUEEN ISABELLA :
Whither goes my lord? KING EDWARD :
Fawn not on me, French strumpet; get thee gone! QUEEN ISABELLA :
On whom but on my husband should I fawn? GAVESTON :
On Mortimer; with whom, ungentle queen, ÔÇô
I say no more ÔÇô judge you the rest, my lord. QUEEN ISABELLA :
In saying this, thou wrong'st me, Gaveston.
Is't not enough that thou corrupt'st my lord,
And art a bawd to his affections,
But thou must call mine honour thus in question? GAVESTON :
I mean not so; your grace must pardon me. KING EDWARD :
Thou art too familiar with that Mortimer,
And by thy means is Gaveston exil'd.
But I would wish thee reconcile the lords,
Or thou shalt ne'er be reconcil'd to me. QUEEN ISABELLA :
Your highness knows, it lies not in my power. KING EDWARD :
Away, then! touch me not. ÔÇô Come, Gaveston. QUEEN ISABELLA :
Villain, 'tis thou that robb'st me of my lord. GAVESTON :
Madam, 'tis you that rob me of my lord. KING EDWARD :
Speak not unto her: let her droop and pine. QUEEN ISABELLA :
Wherein, my lord, have I deserv'd these words?
Witness the tears that Isabella sheds,
Witness this heart, that, sighing for thee, breaks,
How dear my lord is to poor Isabel! KING EDWARD :
And witness heaven how dear thou art to me.
There weep; for, till my Gaveston be repeal'd,
Assure thyself thou com'st not in my sight.
Exeunt KING EDWARD and GAVESTON . QUEEN ISABELLA :
O miserable and distressed queen!
Would, when I left sweet France, and was embarked,
That charming Circe, walking on the waves,
Had chang'd my shape! or at the marriage-day
The cup of Hymen had been full of poison!
Or with those arms, that twin'd about my neck,
I had been stifled, and not liv'd to see
The king my lord thus abandon me!
Like frantic Juno will I fill the earth
With ghastly murmur of my sighs and cries;
For never doted Jove on Ganymede
So much as he on cursed Gaveston.
But that will more exasperate his wrath;
I must entreat him, I must speak him fair,
And be a means to call home Gaveston.
And yet he'll ever dote on Gaveston;
And so am I for ever miserable.
Re-enter LANCASTER , WARWICK , PEMBROKE , the ELDER and the YOUNGER MORTIMER . LANCASTER :
Look, where the sister of the king of France
Sits wringing of her hands and beats her breast! WARWICK :
The king, I fear, hath ill entreated her. PEMBROKE :
Hard is the heart that injures such a saint. YOUNGER MORTIMER :
I know 'tis 'long of Gaveston she weeps. ELDER MORTIMER :
Why? He is gone. YOUNGER MORTIMER :
Madam, how fares your grace? QUEEN ISABELLA :
Ah, Mortimer, now breaks the king's hate forth,
And he confesseth that he loves me not! YOUNGER MORTIMER :
Cry quittance, madam, then, and love not him. QUEEN ISABELLA :
No, rather will I die a thousand deaths.
And yet I love in vain; he'll ne'er love me. LANCASTER :
Fear ye not, madam; now his minion's gone,
His wanton humour will be quickly left. QUEEN ISABELLA :
O, never, Lancaster! I am enjoin'd
To sue unto you all for his repeal:
This wills my lord, and this must I perform,
Or else be banish'd from his highness' presence. LANCASTER :
For his repeal, madam? He comes not back,
Unless the sea cast up his shipwrack'd body. WARWICK :
And to behold so sweet a sight as that,
There's none here but would run his horse to death. YOUNGER MORTIMER :
But, madam, would you have us call him home? QUEEN ISABELLA :
Ay, Mortimer, for, till he be restor'd,
The angry king hath banish'd me the court;
And, therefore, as thou lov'st and tender'st me,
Be thou my advocate unto these peers. YOUNGER MORTIMER :
What, would you have me plead for Gaveston? ELDER MORTIMER :
Plead for him he that will, I am resolv'd. LANCASTER :
And so am I, my lord: dissuade the queen. QUEEN ISABELLA :
O, Lancaster, let him dissuade the king!
For 'tis against my will he should return. WARWICK :
Then speak not for him; let the peasant go. QUEEN ISABELLA :
'Tis for myself I speak, and not for him. PEMBROKE :
No speaking will prevail, and therefore cease. YOUNGER MORTIMER :
Fair queen, forbear to angle for the fish
Which, being caught, strikes him that takes it dead;
I mean that vile torpedo, Gaveston,
That now, I hope, floats on the Irish seas. QUEEN ISABELLA :
Sweet Mortimer, sit down by me a while,
And I will tell thee reasons of such weight
As thou wilt soon subscribe to his repeal. YOUNGER MORTIMER :
It is impossible: but speak your mind. QUEEN ISABELLA :
Then thus; ÔÇô but none shall hear it but ourselves.
Talks to YOUNGER MORTIMER apart . LANCASTER :
My lords, albeit the queen win Mortimer,
Will you be resolute and hold with me? ELDER MORTIMER :
Not I, against my nephew. PEMBROKE :
Fear not; the queen's words cannot alter him. WARWICK :
No? Do but mark how earnestly she pleads! LANCASTER :
And see how coldly his looks make denial! WARWICK :
She smiles. Now, for my life, his mind is chang'd! LANCASTER :
I'll rather lose his friendship, I, than grant. YOUNGER MORTIMER :
Well, of necessity it must be so.
My lords, that I abhor base Gaveston
I hope your honours make no question,
And therefore, though I plead for his repeal,
'Tis not for his sake, but for our avail,
Nay, for the realm's behoof, and for the king's. LANCASTER :
Fie, Mortimer, dishonour not thyself!
Can this be true, 'twas good to banish him?
And is this true, to call him home again?
Such reasons make white black, and dark night day. YOUNGER MORTIMER :
My lord of Lancaster, mark the respect. LANCASTER :
In no respect can contraries be true. QUEEN ISABELLA :
Yet, good my lord, hear what he can allege. WARWICK :
All that he speaks is nothing. We are resolv'd. YOUNGER MORTIMER :
Do you not wish that Gaveston were dead? PEMBROKE :
I would he were! YOUNGER MORTIMER :
Why, then, my lord, give me but leave to speak. ELDER MORTIMER :
But, nephew, do not play the sophister. YOUNGER MORTIMER :
This which I urge is of a burning zeal
To mend the king and do our country good.
Know you not Gaveston hath store of gold,
Which may in Ireland purchase him such friends
As he will front the mightiest of us all?
And whereas he shall live and be belov'd,
'Tis hard for us to work his overthrow. WARWICK :
Mark you but that, my lord of Lancaster. YOUNGER MORTIMER :
But, were he here, detested as he is,
How easily might some base slave be suborn'd
To greet his lordship with a poniard,
And none so much as blame the murderer,
But rather praise him for that brave attempt,
And in the chronicle enrol his name
For purging of the realm of such a plague! PEMBROKE :
He saith true. LANCASTER :
Ay, but how chance this was not done before? YOUNGER MORTIMER :
Because, my lords, it was not thought upon.
Nay, more, when he shall know it lies in us
To banish him, and then to call him home,
'Twill make him vail the top-flag of his pride,
And fear to offend the meanest nobleman. ELDER MORTIMER :
But how if he do not, nephew? YOUNGER MORTIMER :
Then may we with some colour rise in arms;
For, howsoever we have borne it out,
'Tis treason to be up against the king;
So shall we have the people of our side,
Which, for his father's sake, lean to the king,
But cannot brook a night-grown mushrump,
Such a one as my Lord of Cornwall is,
Should bear us down of the nobility.
And, when the commons and the nobles join,
'Tis not the king can buckler Gaveston;
We'll pull him from the strongest hold he hath.
My lords, if to perform this I be slack,
Think me as base a groom as Gaveston. LANCASTER :
On that condition, Lancaster will grant. WARWICK :
And so will Pembroke and I. ELDER MORTIMER :
And I. YOUNGER MORTIMER :
In this I count me highly gratified,
And Mortimer will rest at your command. QUEEN ISABELLA :
And when this favour Isabel forgets,
Then let her live abandon'd and forlorn.
But see, in happy time, my lord the king,
Having brought the Earl of Cornwall on his way,
Is new return'd. This news will glad him much:
Yet not so much as me; I love him more
Than he can Gaveston. Would he lov'd me
But half so much! Then were I treble-blest.
Re-enter KING EDWARD , mourning . KING EDWARD :
He's gone, and for his absence thus I mourn:
Did never sorrow go so near my heart
As doth the want of my sweet Gaveston;
And, could my crown's revenue bring him back,
I would freely give it to his enemies,
And think I gain'd, having bought so dear a friend. QUEEN ISABELLA :
Hark, how he harps upon his minion! KING EDWARD :
My heart is as an anvil unto sorrow,
Which beats upon it like the Cyclops' hammers,
And with the noise turns up my giddy brain.
And makes me frantic for my Gaveston.
Ah, had some bloodless Fury rose from hell,
And with my kingly sceptre struck me dead,
When I was forc'd to leave my Gaveston! LANCASTER :
Diablo , what passions call you these? QUEEN ISABELLA :
My gracious lord, I come to bring you news. KING EDWARD :
That you have parled with your Mortimer? QUEEN ISABELLA :
That Gaveston, my lord, shall be repeal'd. KING EDWARD :
Repeal'd! The news is too sweet to be true. QUEEN ISABELLA :
But will you love me, if you find it so? KING EDWARD :
If it be so, what will not Edward do? QUEEN ISABELLA :
For Gaveston, but not for Isabel. KING EDWARD :
For thee, fair queen, if thou lov'st Gaveston,
I'll hang a golden tongue about thy neck,
Seeing thou hast pleaded with so good success. QUEEN ISABELLA :
No jewels hang about my neck
Than these, my lord; nor let me have more wealth
Than I may fetch from this rich treasury.
O, how a kiss revives poor Isabel! KING EDWARD :
Once more receive my hand, and let this be
A second marriage 'twixt thyself and me. QUEEN ISABELLA :
And may it prove more happy than the first!
My gentle lord, bespeak these nobles fair,
That wait attendance for a gracious look,
And on their knees salute your majesty. KING EDWARD :
Courageous Lancaster, embrace thy king;
And, as gross vapours perish by the sun,
Even so let hatred with thy sovereign's smile:
Live thou with me as my companion. LANCASTER :
This salutation overjoys my heart. KING EDWARD :
Warwick shall be my chiefest counsellor:
These silver hairs will more adorn my court
Than gaudy silks or rich embroidery.
Chide me, sweet Warwick, if I go astray. WARWICK :
Slay me, my lord, when I offend your grace. KING EDWARD :
In solemn triumphs and in public shows
Pembroke shall bear the sword before the king. PEMBROKE :
And with this sword Pembroke will fight for you. KING EDWARD :
But wherefore walks young Mortimer aside?
Be thou commander of our royal fleet;
Or, if that lofty office like thee not,
I make thee here Lord Marshal of the realm. YOUNGER MORTIMER :
My lord, I'll marshal so your enemies,
As England shall be quiet, and you safe. KING EDWARD :
And as for you, Lord Mortimer of Chirke,
Whose great achievements in our foreign war
Deserve no common place nor mean reward,
Be you the general of the levied troops
That now are ready to assail the Scots. ELDER MORTIMER :
In this your grace hath highly honour'd me,
For with my nature war doth best agree. QUEEN ISABELLA :
Now is the king of England rich and strong,
Having the love of his renowned peers. KING EDWARD :
Ay, Isabel, ne'er was my heart so light.
Clerk of the crown, direct our warrant forth,
For Gaveston, to Ireland!
Enter BEAUMONT with warrant .
Beaumont, fly
As fast as Iris or Jove's Mercury. BEAUMONT :
It shall be done, my gracious lord.
Exit . KING EDWARD :
Lord Mortimer, we leave you to your charge.
Now let us in, and feast it royally.
Against our friend the Earl of Cornwall comes
We'll have a general tilt and tournament,
And then his marriage shall be solemnis'd;
For wot you not that I have made him sure
Unto our cousin, the Earl of Gloucester's heir? LANCASTER :
Such news we hear, my lord. KING EDWARD :
That day, if not for him, yet for my sake,
Who in the triumph will be challenger,
Spare for no cost. We will requite your love. WARWICK :
In this or aught your highness shall command us. KING EDWARD :
Thanks, gentle Warwick. Come, let's in and revel.
Exeunt all except the ELDER and the YOUNGER MORTIMER . ELDER MORTIMER :
Nephew, I must to Scotland; thou stay'st here.
Leave now to oppose thyself against the king.
Thou seest by nature he is mild and calm;
And, seeing his mind so dotes on Gaveston,
Let him without controlment have his will.
The mightiest kings have had their minions;
Great Alexander lov'd Hephaestion,
The conquering Hercules for Hylas wept,
And for Patroclus stern Achilles droop'd.
And not kings only, but the wisest men;
The Roman Tully lov'd Octavius,
Grave Socrates wild Alcibiades.
Then let his grace, whose youth is flexible,
And promiseth as much as we can wish,
Freely enjoy that vain light-headed earl,
For riper years will wean him from such toys. YOUNGER MORTIMER :
Uncle, his wanton humour grieves not me;
But this I scorn, that one so basely born
Should by his sovereign's favour grow so pert,
And riot it with the treasure of the realm,
While soldiers mutiny for want of pay.
He wears a lord's revenue on his back,
And, Midas-like, he jets it in the court,
With base outlandish cullions at his heels,
Whose proud fantastic liveries make such show
As if that Proteus, god of shapes, appear'd.
I have not seen a dapper Jack so brisk.
He wears a short Italian hooded cloak,
Larded with pearl, and in his Tuscan cap
A jewel of more value than the crown.
Whiles other walk below, the king and he
From out a window laugh at such as we,
And flout our train, and jest at our attire.
Uncle, 'tis this that makes me impatient. ELDER MORTIMER :
But, nephew, now you see the king is chang'd. YOUNGER MORTIMER :
Then so am I, and live to do him service.
But, whiles I have a sword, a hand, a heart,
I will not yield to any such upstart.
You know my mind: come, uncle, let's away.
Exeunt .
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