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Enter King Edward and Spencer, with
Drums and Fifes.
Inexorable, and I shall never see
My lovely Pierce, my Gaveston againe,
The Barons overbeare me with their pride.
Spencer.
Were I King Edward, Englands soveraigne,
Sonne to the lovelie Elenor of Spaine,
Great Edward Longshankes issue: would I beare
These braves, this rage, and suffer uncontrowld
These Barons thus to beard me in my land,
In mine owne realme? my lord pardon my speeche,
Did you retaine your fathers magnanimitie,
Did you regard the honor of your name,
You would not suffer thus your Majestie
Be counterbuft of your nobilitie.
Strike off their heads, and let them preach on poles,
No doubt, such lessons they will teach the rest,
As by their preachments they will profit much,
And learne obedience to their lawfull King.
Edw.
Yea gentle Spencer, we have beene too milde,
Too kinde to them, but now have drawne our sword,
And if they send me not my Gaveston,
Weele steele it on their crest, and powle their tops.
Bald.
This haught resolve becomes your Majestie,
Not to be tied to their affection,
As though your highnes were a schoole boy still,
And must be awde and governd like a child.
Enter Hugh Spencer an old man, father to the young
Spencer, with his Trunchion and Soldiers.
Edw.
Thy father Spencer?
Spen.filius.
True, and it like your Grace,
That powres (in lieu of all your goodnesse shewne)
His life my Lord, before your Princely feere.
Edw.
Welcome ten thousand times, old man againe.
Spencer, this love, this kindnesse to thy King,
Argues thy noble mind and disposition:
Spencer, I here create thee Earle of Wilshire,
And dayly will enrich thee with our favour,
That as the sun-shine shall reflect ore thee:
Beside, the more to manifest our love,
Because we heare Lord Bruse doth sell his Land,
And that the Mortimers are in hand withall,
Thou shalt have Crownes of us to out-bid the Barons:
And Spencer, spare them not, lay it on.
Souldiers a Largis, and thrice welcome all.
Spen.
My Lord, heere comes the Queene.
Enter the Queene and her Sonne, and
Lewne a Frenchman.
On Atlas shoulder, shall not lye more safe,
Then shall your charge committed to my trust.
Qu.
Ah Boy, this towardnesse makes thy Mother feare
Thou art not markt to many dayes on Earth.
Edw.
Madame, we will that you with speede be shipt,
And this our sonne, Lewne, shall follow you,
With all the haste we can dispatch him hence,
Choose of our Lords to beare you company,
And goe in peace, leave us in warres at home.
Qu.
Unnatural wars, where subjects brave their King,
God end them once, my Lord I take my leave,
To make my preparation for France.
Enter Lord Matrevis.
Edw.
Well, and how fortunes that he came not?
Spen.
Some treason, or some villany was cause.
Mat.
The Earle of Warwicke seaz'd him on his way,
For being delivered unto Penbrookes men,
Their Lord rode home, thinking his Prisoner safe,
But ere he came Warwicke in ambush lay,
And bare him to his death, and in a Trench
Stroke off his head, and marcht unto the Campe.
Spen.
A bloudy part, flatly 'gainst law of armes.
Edw.
O shall I speake, or shall I sigh and dye!
Spen.
My Lord, referre your vengeance to the sword,
Upon these Barons, harten up your men,
Let them not unreveng'd murther your friends,
Advaunce your standard Edward in the field,
And march to fire them from their starting holes.
Edward kneeles, and saith.
Edw.
Admit him neere.
Enter the Herald from the Barons, with
his Coate of Armes.
Enter the King, Spencer the father, Spencer the sonne,
and the Noblemen of the Kings side.
Edw.
S. George for England, and King Edwards right.
Enter Edward, with the Barons captives.
Mortimers hope surmounts his fortune farre.
Ed.
Sound Drums and Trumpets, march with me my friends,
Edward this day hath crown'd him King anew. Exit.
Manent Spencer filius, Lewne and Baldock.