But justice of the quarrel and the cause, But we'll advance them, traitors: now 'tis time Kent. Brother, in regard of thee and of thy land, Did they remove that flatterer from thy throne., 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. K. Edw. Away with them, my Lord of Winchester! These lusty leaders, Warwick and Lancaster, 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! 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. Be gone! Y. Mor. What! Mortimer, can ragged stony walls Immure thy virtue that aspires to heaven? [The captive Barons are led off. K. Edw. Sound, drums and trumpets! March with me, my friends. Edward this day hath crown'd him king anew. [Exeunt all except the younger SPENSER, LEVUNE, and BALDOCK. Y. Spen. Levune, the trust that we repose in thee Lerune. Have you no doubt, my lords, I'll clap so close Among the lords of France with England's gold, Proclaim King Edward's wars and victories. Enter KENT. Kent. Fair blows the wind for France: blow, gentle gale, Till Edmund be arriv'd for England's good! Enter the younger MORTIMER disguised. Kent. Mortimer, 'tis I. But hath thy potion wrought so happily? Y. Mor. It hath, my lord: the warders all asleep, I thank them, gave me leave to pass in peace. Enter QUEEN ISABELLA1 and PRINCE EDWARD. Q. Isab. Ah, boy, our friends do fail us all in The lords are cruel, and the king2 unkind. P. Edw. Madam, return to England, Q. Isab. Ah, boy, thou art deceiv'd, at least in this, To think that we can yet be tun'd together! Sir J. Madam, what cheer? Q. Isab. Ah, good Sir John of Hainault, Never so cheerless nor so far distrest! Sir J. I hear, sweet lady, of the king's unkindness: But droop not, madam; noble minds contemn Despair. Will your grace with me to Hainault, And there stay time's advantage with your son?— How say you, my lord? will you go with your friends, And shake off all our fortunes equally? P. Edw. So pleaseth the queen my mother, me it likes.1 The king of England, nor the court of France, Q. Isab. Oh, my sweet heart, how do I moan thy wrongs, Yet triumph in the hope of thee, my joy!- His grace, I dare presume, will welcome me.- Enter KENT and the younger MORTIMER. Kent. Madam, long may you live Much happier than your friends in England do! Q. Isab. Lord Edmund, and Lord Mortimer alive! Welcome to France! the news was here, my lord, That you were dead, or very near your death. Y. Mor. Lady, the last was truest of the twain: But Mortimer, reserv'd for better hap, Hath shaken off the thraldom of the Tower, And lives t' advance your standard, good my lord. P. Edw. How mean you, and the king my father lives? No, my Lord Mortimer, not I, I trow. Q. Isab. Not, son! why not? I would it were no worse! But, gentle lords, friendless we are in France. Y. Mor. Monsieur Le Grand, a noble friend of yours, Told us, at our arrival, all the news,- room Where weapons won't; and, though a many friends Are made away, as Warwick, Lancaster, Yet have we friends, assure your grace, in Would cast up caps, and clap their hands for joy, To see us there, appointed for our foes. Kent. Would all were well, and Edward well reclaim'd, For England's honour, peace, and quietness! Y. Mor. But by the sword, my lord, 't must be deserv'd: 3 The king will ne'er forsake his flatterers. Sir J. My lords of England, sith th' ungentle king Of France refuseth to give aid of arms P. Edw. I think King Edward will outrun us all. Dyce, no doubt correctly, thinks the meaning to be that they would go with Sir John to Hainault, were it on the utmost verge of Europe, &c. The Tanais (Don) was formerly accounted the boundary between Europe and Asia. Read it, Spenser. [SPENSER reads their names. Why, so they bark'd apace a month ago; Now, on my life, they'll neither bark or bite. Now, sirs, the news from France? Gloucester, I trow, The lords of France love England's gold so well Reward for them can bring in Mortimer? Y. Spen. My lord, we have; and, if he be in England, 'A will be had ere long, I doubt it not. K. Edw. If, dost thou say? Spenser, as true as death, He is in England's ground: our port-masters Enter a Messenger. How now! what news with thee? from whence come these? Mes. Letters, my lord, and tidings forth of France; To you, my Lord of Gloucester, from Levune. [Gives letters to younger SPENSER. K. Edw. Read. Y. Spen. [reading.] My duty to your honour appointed-armed, accoutred, furnished with imple-premised, &c., I have, according to instructions in ments of war. We still speak of a soldier's appointments.' 3 deserv'd-earned. sth-since: Anglo-Saxon, sith, late, after. to bid the English king a base. To bid a base is, to run fast, challenging another to pursue, in allusion to the game of Prison-base or Prison-bars, a rustic game that consisted chiefly in running. The following lines from Spencer seem to give some kind of picture of the sport: So ran they all as they had been at bace, that behalf, dealt with the king of France, his lords, and effected that the queen, all discontented and discomforted, is gone: whither, if you ask, with Sir John of Hainault, brother to the marquis, into Flanders. With them are gone Lord Edmund and 1 Scene in England again, apparently in the royal palace. 2 As-that, in which sense it was often used by old authors. 3'A-he. the Lord Mortimer, having in their company divers of your nation, and others; and, as constant report goeth, they intend to give King Edward battle in England, sooner than he can look for them. This is all the news of import. Your honour's in all service, Levune. K. Edw. Ah, villains, hath that Mortimer escap'd? With him is Edmund gone associate? And will Sir John of Hainault lead the round? [Exeunt. Enter QUEEN ISABELLA, PRINCE EDWARD, KENT, the younger MORTIMER, and SIR JOHN OF HAINAULT. Q. Isab. Now, lords, our loving friends and countrymen, Welcome to England all, with prosperous winds! Misgovern'd kings are cause of all this wreck; Y. Mor. Nay, madam, if you be a warrior, let us march. · Enter KENT, with a sword and target. Kent. This way he fled; but I am come too late. Edward, alas, my heart relents for thee! Q. Isab. Successful battle gives the God of kings To them that fight in right, and fear his wrath. Kent. Madam, without offence if I may ask, 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; [Aside to the Queen. Q. Isab. My lord, the Mayor of Bristol knows our mind. Y. Mor. Yea, madam; and they 'scape not easily That fled the field. Q. Isab. Baldock is with the king: A goodly chancellor, is he not, my lord? Sir J. So are the Spensers, the father and the Madam, the mayor and citizens of Bristol, Y. Mor. Your loving care in this But where's the king and the other Spenser fled? Rice. Spenser the son, created Earl of Gloucester, Is with that smooth-tongu'd scholar Baldock gone, And shipp'd but late for Ireland with the king. Y. Mor. Some whirlwind fetch them back, or sink them all! They shall be started thence, I doubt it not. P. Edw. Shall I not see the king my father yet? Kent. Unhappy Edward, chas'd from England's bounds! Sir J. Madam, what resteth? why stand you in a muse? Q. Isab. I rue my lord's ill-fortune; but, alas, Care of my country call'd me to this war! Y. Mor. Madam, have done with care and sad complaint: Your king hath wrong'd your country and himself, And we must seek to right it as we may.- E. Spen. Rebel is he that fights against the prince: So fought not they that fought in Edward's right. Y. Mor. Take him away; he prates. [Exeunt Attendants with the elder SPENSER. Shall do good service to her majesty, [Exeunt. Enter the Abbot, Monks, KING EDWARD, the younger SPENSER, and BALDOCK. we, With awkward winds and sore tempests driven, K. Edw. Mortimer! who talks of Mortimer? Y. Spen. Look up, my lord.-Baldock, this drowsiness Betides no good: here even we are betray'd. Enter, with Welsh hooks, RICE AP HOWEL, a Mower, and LEICESTER. Mow. Upon my life, these be the men ye seek. Rice. Fellow, enough.-My lord, I pray, be short; A fair commission warrants what we do. Leices. The queen's commission, urg'd by Mortimer: What cannot gallant Mortimer with the queen ?— Alas, see where he sits, and hopes unseen 3 T'escape their hands that seek to reave his life! Too true it is, Quem dies vidit veniens superbum: Hunc dies vidit fugiens jacentem. But, Leicester, leave to grow so passionate.Spenser and Baldock, by no other names, I arrest you of high treason here. Stand not on titles, but obey th' arrest: "Tis in the name of Isabel the queen. Abbot. Have you no doubt, my lord; have you My lord, why droop you thus? no fear: As silent and as careful we will be To keep your royal person safe with us, Free from suspect and fell invasion Of such as have your majesty in chase, K. Edw. Father, thy face should harbour no deceit. Oh, hadst thou ever been a king, thy heart, by me; Make trial now of that philosophy Thou suck'dst from Plato and from Aristotle.-- K. Edw. Oh day, the last of all my bliss on earth! Centre of all misfortune! Oh my stars, Y. Spen. It may become thee yet To let us take our farewell of his grace. Abbot. My heart with pity earns to see this sight; A king to bear these words and proud commands! [Aside. K. Edw. Spenser, ah! sweet Spenser, thus, then, must we part? 1 wot-know; connected with wit. 2 mickle-much; still used in Scotland; Anglo-Saxon, micel. 3 Welsh hooks. What kind of weapons these were is not precisely known. Nares says they were swords made in a hooked form; another authority thinks they were a species of Lochaber axe. reave-rob; now bereave; Anglo-Saxon, refian, to rob. 5 Quem, &c. He whom the morning beholds proud, the departing day sees lying low.'-SENECA. 6 leave-cease. 7 earns-yearns; Anglo-Saxon, georn, desirous; connected with earnest. Y. Spen. We must, my lord; so will the angry heavens. K. Edw. Nay, so will hell and cruel Mortimer: The gentle heavens have not to do in this. Bald. My lord, it is in vain to grieve or storm. Here humbly of your grace we take our leaves: Our lots are cast; I fear me, so is thine. K. Edw. In heaven we may, in earth ne'er shall we meet: And, Leicester, say, what shall become of us? Leices. Your majesty must go to Killingworth.' K. Edw. Must! it is somewhat hard when kings must go. Leices. Here is a letter ready for your grace, That waits your pleasure, and the day grows old. Rice. As good be gone, as stay and be benighted. K. Edw. A litter hast thou? lay me in a hearse, And to the gates of hell convey me hence; Let Pluto's bells ring out my fatal knell, And hags howl for my death at Charon's shore; For friends hath Edward none but these, and these Must die under a tyrant's sword. Rice. My lord, be going: care not for these; For we shall see them shorter by the heads. K. Edw. Well, that shall be shall be: part we must; Sweet Spenser, gentle Baldock, part we must.Hence, feigned weeds!2 unfeigned are my woes.Father, farewell.-Leicester, thou stay'st for me; And go I must.-Life, farewell, with my friends! [Exeunt KING EDWARD and LEICESTER. Y.Spen. Oh, is he gone? is noble Edward gone? Parted from hence, never to see us more? Rend, sphere of heaven! and, fire, forsake thy orb! Earth, melt to air! gone is my sovereign, Bald. Spenser, I see our souls are flecting We are depriv'd the sunshine of our life. Rice. Come, come, keep these preachments till you come to the place appointed. You, and such as you are, have made wise work in England. Will your lordships away? Mow. Your lordship I trust will remember me? Rice. Remember thee, fellow! what else? Follow me to the town. [Exeunt. Enter KING EDWARD,3 LEICESTER, the BISHOP of WINCHESTER, and TRUSSEL.4 Leices. Be patient, good my lord, cease to Imagine Killingworth Castle were your court, Edw. Leicester, if gentle words might comfort me, Thy speeches long ago had eas'd my sorrows, Runs to an herb that closeth up the wounds: Bish. of Win. Your grace mistakes; it is for And princely Edward's right, we crave the crown. K. Edw. No, 'tis for Mortimer, not Edward's head; For he's a lamb, encompassed by wolves, Leices. My lord, why waste you thus the time away? They stay your answer: will you yield your crown? K. Edw. Ah, Leicester, weigh how hardly I can brook To lose my crown and kingdom without cause; That, like a mountain, overwhelms my bliss; |