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[Near Bristol] Enter KING EDWARD, BALDOCK, and Young SPENCER, flying about the stage Y. Spen. Fly, fly, my lord! the queen is over-strong; | |
| Her friends do multiply, and yours do fail. | |
| Shape we our course to Ireland, there to breathe. | |
| K. Edw. What! was I born to fly and run away, | 4 |
| And leave the Mortimers conquerors behind? | |
| Give me my horse, and lets reinforce our troops: | |
| And in this bed of honour die with fame. | |
| Bald. O no, my lord, this princely resolution | 8 |
| Fits not the time; away! we are pursued. [Exeunt.] | |
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Enter KENT, with sword and target Kent. This way he fled, but I am come too late | |
| Edward, alas! my heart relents for thee. | |
| Proud traitor, Mortimer, why dost thou chase | 12 |
| Thy lawful king, thy sovereign, with thy sword? | |
| Vile wretch! and why hast thou, of all unkind, | |
| Borne arms against thy brother and thy king? | |
| Rain showers of vengeance on my cursed head, | 16 |
| Thou God, to whom in justice it belongs | |
| To punish this unnatural revolt! | |
| Edward, this Mortimer aims at thy life! | |
| O fly him, then! But, Edmund, calm this rage, | 20 |
| Dissemble, or thou diest; for Mortimer | |
| And Isabel do kiss, while they conspire; | |
| And yet she bears a face of love forsooth. | |
| Fie on that love that hatcheth death and hate! | 24 |
| Edmund, away! Bristow to Longshanks blood | |
| Is false. Be not found single for suspect: | |
| Proud Mortimer pries near unto thy walks. | |
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Enter QUEEN ISABELLA, PRINCE EDWARD, Young MORTIMER, and SIR JOHN OF HAINAULT Q. Isab. Successful battle gives the God of kings | 28 |
| To them that fight in right and fear his wrath. | |
| Since then successfully we have prevailed, | |
| Thanked be Heavens great architect, and you. | |
| Ere farther we proceed, my noble lords, | 32 |
| We here create our well-beloved son, | |
| Of love and care unto his royal person, | |
| Lord Warden of the realm, and sith the fates | |
| Have made his father so infortunate, | 36 |
| Deal you, my lords, in this, my loving lords, | |
| As to your wisdoms fittest seems in all. | |
| Kent. Madam, without offence, if I may ask, | |
| How will you deal with Edward in his fall? | 40 |
| P. Edw. Tell me, good uncle, what Edward do you mean? | |
| Kent. Nephew, your father; I dare not call him king. | |
| Y. Mor. My lord of Kent, what needs these questions? | |
| Tis not in her controlment, nor in ours, | 44 |
| But as the realm and parliament shall please, | |
| So shall your brother be disposed of. | |
| I like not this relenting mood in Edmund. | |
| Madam, tis good to look to him betimes. [Aside to the QUEEN.] | 48 |
| Q. Isab. My lord, the Mayor of Bristow knows our mind. | |
| Y.Mor. Yea, madam, and they scape not easily | |
| That fled the field. | |
| Q. Isab Baldock is with the king. | 52 |
| A goodly chancellor, is he not, my lord? | |
| Sir J. So are Spencers, the father and the son. | |
| Kent. This Edward is the ruin of the realm. | |
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Enter RICE AP HOWELL and the Mayor of Bristow, with the Elder SPENCER [Prisoner, and Attendants] Rice. God save Queen Isabel, and her princely son! | 56 |
| Madam, the mayor and citizens of Bristow, | |
| In sign of love and duty to this presence, | |
| Present by me this traitor to the state, | |
| Spencer, the father to that wanton Spencer, | 60 |
| That, like the lawless Catiline of Rome, | |
| Revelled in Englands wealth and treasury. | |
| Q. Isab. We thank you all. | |
| Y. Mor. Your loving care in this | 64 |
| Deserveth princely favours and rewards. | |
| But wheres the king and the other Spencer fled? | |
| Rice. Spencer the son, created Earl of Gloucester, | |
| Is with that smooth-tongud scholar Baldock gone | 68 |
| And shipped but late for Ireland with the king. | |
| Y. Mor. Some whirlwind fetch them back or sink them all! [Aside.] | |
| They shall be started thence, I doubt it not. | |
| P. Edw. Shall I not see the king my father yet? | 72 |
| Kent. Unhappys Edward, chasd from Englands bounds. [Aside.] | |
| Sir J. Madam, what resteth, why stand you in a muse? | |
| Q. Isab. I rue my lords ill-fortune; but alas! | |
| Care of my country calld me to this war. | 76 |
| Y. Mor. Madam, have done with care and sad complaint; | |
| Your king hath wrongd your country and himself, | |
| And we must seek to right it as we may. | |
| Meanwhile, have hence this rebel to the block. | 80 |
| Your lordship cannot privilege your head. | |
| E. Spen. Rebel is he that fights against his prince; | |
| So fought not they that fought in Edwards right. | |
| Y. Mor. Take him away, he prates; [Exeunt Attendants with the Elder SPENCER.) | 84 |
| You, Rice ap Howell, | |
| Shall do good service to her majesty, | |
| Being of countenance in your country here, | |
| To follow these rebellious runagates. | 88 |
| We in meanwhile, madam, must take advice, | |
| How Baldock, Spencer, and their complices, | |
| May in their fall be followed to their end. Exeunt. | |
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