| |
Re-enter KING EDWARD [and his followers,] with the Barons [and KENT], captives
K. Edw. Now, lusty lords, now, not by chance of war, | |
| But justice of the quarrel and the cause, | |
| Vail’d 1 is your pride; methinks you hang the heads, | |
| But we’ll advance them, traitors. Now ’tis time | 4 |
| 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. | 8 |
| Ah, rebels! recreants! you made him away. | |
| Kent. Brother, in regard of thee, and of thy land, | |
| Did they remove that flatterer from thy throne. | |
| K. Edw. So, sir, you have spoke; away, avoid our presence. [Exit KENT.] | 12 |
| Accursed wretches, was’t in regard of us, | |
| When we had sent our messenger to request | |
| He might be spar’d to come to speak with us, | |
| And Pembroke undertook for his return, | 16 |
| That thou, proud Warwick, watch’d the prisoner, | |
| Poor Pierce, and headed him ’gainst law of arms? | |
| For which thy head shall overlook the rest, | |
| As much as thou in rage outwent’st the rest. | 20 |
| 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. | 24 |
| K. Edw. Away with them, my lord of Winchester! | |
| These lusty leaders, Warwick and Lancaster, | |
| I charge you roundly—off with both their heads! | |
| Away! | 28 |
| War. Farewell, vain world! | |
| Lan. Sweet Mortimer, farewell. | |
| Y. Mor. England, unkind to thy nobility, | |
| Groan for this grief, behold how thou art maim’d! | 32 |
| K. Edw. Go take that haughty Mortimer to the Tower, | |
| There see him safe bestow’d; and for the rest, | |
| Do speedy execution on them all. | |
| Begone! | 36 |
| Y. Mor. What, Mortimer! can ragged stony walls | |
| Immure thy virtue that aspires to Heaven? | |
| No, Edward, England’s scourage, it may not be; | |
| Mortimer’s hope surmounts his fortune far. [The captive Barons are led off.] | 40 |
| K. Edw. Sound drums and trumpets! March with me, my friends, | |
| Edward this day hath crown’d him king anew. Exeunt all except Young SPENCER, LEVUNE, and BALDOCK. | |
| Y. Spen. Levune, the trust that we repose in thee, | |
| Begets the quiet of King Edward’s land. | 44 |
| Therefore begone in haste, and with advice | |
| Bestow that treasure on the lords of France, | |
| That, therewith all enchanted, like the guard | |
| That suffered Jove to pass in showers of gold | 48 |
| To Danae, all aid may be denied | |
| To Isabel, the queen, that now in France | |
| Makes friends, to cross the seas with her young son, | |
| And step into his father’s regiment. 2 | 52 |
| Levune. That’s it these barons and the subtle queen | |
| Long levell’d at. | |
| Bal. Yea, but, Levune, thou seest | |
| These barons lay their heads on blocks together; | 56 |
| What they intend, the hangman frustrates clean. | |
| Levune. Have you no doubt, my lords, I’ll clap so close | |
| Among the lords of France with England’s gold, | |
| That Isabel shall make her plaints in vain, | 60 |
| And France shall be obdurate with her tears. | |
| Y. Spen. Then make for France, amain—Levune, away! | |
| Proclaim King Edward’s wars and victories. Exeunt. | |
