Edw. Welcome, old man, com'st thou in Edward's aid ? Then tell thy prince of whence, and what thou art.

O. Spen. Lo, with a band of bowmen and of pikes,
Brown bills and targetiers, four hundred strong,
Sworn to defend King Edward's royal right,

I come in person to your majesty,

Spencer, the father of Hugh Spencer there,
Bound to your highness everlastingly,

For favour done, in him, unto us all.

Edw. Thy father, Spencer?

Y. Spen.

True, an it like your grace,

That pours, in lieu of all your goodness shown,

His life, my lord, before your princely feet.

Edw. Welcome ten thousand times, old man, again.
Spencer, this love, this kindness to thy king,

Argues thy noble mind and disposition.
Spencer, 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, Spencer, spare them not, but lay it on.

Soldiers, a largess, and thrice welcome all!

Enter the QUEEN and her SON, and LEVUNE.

Madam, what news?

Y. Spen. My lord, here comes the queen.
Edw.
Queen. 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.

Edw. 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 more? Madam, in this,

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. 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. Ah, boy! this towardness makes thy mother fear

Thou art not markt to many days on earth.

Edw. Madam, we will that you with speed be shipt,
And this our son; Levune shall follow you

With all the haste we can dispatch him hence.
Chuse of our lords to bear you company;

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

Queen. Unnatural wars, where subjects brave their king; God end them once. My lord, I take my leave,

To make my preparation for France.

Enter ARUNDEL.

[Exit with PRince.

Edw. What, Lord Arúndel, dost thou come alone?
Arun. Yea, my good lord, for Gaveston is dead.
Edw. 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?

Arun. 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.

Edw. And tell me, would the rebels deny me that?
Y. Spen. Proud recreants!

Edw.

Yea, Spencer, traitors all.

Arun. I found them at the first inexorable; The Earl of Warwick would not bide the hearing,

Mortimer hardly, Lancaster and Pembroke

Spake least and when they flatly had denied,
Refusing to receive me pledge for him,

The Earl of Pembroke mildly thus bespake;

"My lords, 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-deliv'red to your hands."

Edw. Well, and how fortunes that he came not then?
Y. Spen. Some treason, or some villainy was the cause.
Arun. The Earl of Warwick seized him on his way;

For being deliv'red 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 marcht unto the camp.

Y. Spen. A bloody part, flatly 'gainst law of arms.

[Exit ARUNDEL. 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 unrevenged murder your friends! Advance your standard, Edward, in the field, And march to fire them from their starting holes. Edw. 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. 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 accurséd traitorous progeny, You villains, that have slain my Gaveston! And in his place of honour and of trust, Spencer, sweet Spencer, I adopt thee here: And merely of our love we do create thee Earl of Gloster, and Lord Chamberlain, Despite of times, despite of enemies.

Y. Spen.

My lord, here is a messenger from the barons

Desires accéss unto your majesty.

Edw. Admit him near.

Enter Herald.

Her.

Long live King Edward, England's lawful lord!
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 Spencer, as a putrefying 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 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 vow'd and consecrate.

Y. Spen. Ah, traitors! will they still display their pride? 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 SPENCER. Spencer from me.-Now get thee to thy lords,

And tell them I will come to chástise them

For murdering Gaveston; hie thee, get thee gone!
Edward with fire and sword follows at thy heels.
My lords, perceive you how these rebels swell?
Soldiers, good hearts, defend your sovereign's right,
For now, e'en now, we march to make them stoop.
This day I shall pour vengeance with my sword
On those proud rebels that are up in arms,

And do confront and countermand their king.
Upon them, lords! Alarum !-to the fight!

All.

St. George for England, and King Edward's right.

[Alarums. Exeunt.

ACT III

SCENE I. The King's Camp.

Enter EDWARD and his Followers, with the BARONS and KENT, captives.

Edw.

Now, lusty 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 avenged 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.

Edw. So, sir, you have spoke; away, avoid our presence!

Accursed wretch, was't in regard of us,

When we had sent our messenger to request

[Exit KENT.

He might be spared to come to speak with us,
And Pembroke undertook for his return,
That thou, proud Warwick, watcht 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.

Edw. Away with them, my lord of Winchester !