PEM. Fear not, the queen's words cannot alter him. WAR. No, do but mark how earnestly she pleads. LAN. And see how coldly his looks make denial. WAR. She smiles, now for my life his mind is chang'd.

LAN. I'll rather lose his friendship I, than grant.

Y. MOR. Well, of necessity it must be so. My lords, that I abhor base Gaveston I hope your honours make no question, And therefore, though I plead for his repeal, 'Tis not for his sake, but for our avail: Nay, for the realms behoof, and for the king's. LAN. Fie, Mortimer, dishonour not thyself! Can this be true, 'twas good to banish him? And is this true, to call him home again? Such reasons make white black, and dark night day. Y. MOR. My lord of Lancaster, mark the respect. LAN. In no respect can contraries be true. QUEEN. Yet, good my lord, hear what he can alledge.

WAR. All that he speaks is nothing, we are resolv❜d.

Y. MOR. Do you not wish that Gaveston were dead? PEM. I would he were.

Y. MOR. Why then, my lord, give me but leave to speak.

E. MOR. But, nephew, do not play the sophister.
Y. MOR. This which I urge is of a burning zeal

To mend the king, and do our country good.
Know you not Gaveston hath store of gold,

Which may in Ireland purchase him such friends,
As he will front the mightiest of us all?
And whereas he shall live and be belov'd,
'Tis hard for us to work his overthrow.

WAR. Mark you but that, my lord of Lancaster.
Y. MOR. But were he here, detested as he is,
How easily might some base slave be suborn'd, ·
To greet his lordship with a poignard,

And none so much as blame the murderer,
But rather praise him for that brave attempt,
And in the chronicle enrol his name,

For purging of the realm of such a plague?
PEM. He saith true.

LAN. Aye, but how chance this was not done before?
Y. MOR. Because, my lords, it was not thought

upon:

Nay, more, when he shall know it lies in us

To banish him, and then to call him home,
"Twill make him vail the top-flag of his pride,
And fear to offend the meanest nobleman.

E. MOR. But how if he do not, nephew?

Y. MOR. Then may we with some colour rise in

arms:

For howsoever we have borne it out,

'Tis treason to be up against the king;
So we shall have the people on our side,
Which for his father's sake lean to the king,
But cannot brook a night-grown mushroom,
Such a one as my lord of Cornwall is,
Should bear us down of the nobility.

And when the commons and the nobles join,
'Tis not the king can buckler Gaveston;
We'll pull him from the strongest hold he hath.
My lords, if to perform this I be slack,
Think me as base a groom as Gaveston.
LAN. On that condition, Lancaster will grant.
WAR. And so will Pembroke and I.

E. MOR. And I.

Y. MOR. In this I count me highly gratify'd,
And Mortimer will rest at your command.
QUEEN. And when this favour Isabel forgets,
Then let her live abandon'd and forlorn.
But see, in happy time, my lord the king,
Having brought the earl of Cornwall on his way,
Is new return'd; this news will glad him much;
Yet not so much as me; I love him more
Than he can Gaveston; would he lov'd me
But half so much, then were I treble-bless'd!
Enter KING EDWARD, mourning.

EDW. He's gone, and for his absence thus I

mourn.

Did never sorrow go so near my heart,

As doth the want of my sweet Gaveston!
And could my crown's revenue bring him back,
I would freely give it to his enemies,

And think I gain'd, having bought so dear a friend.
QUEEN. Hark! how he harps upon his minion.
EDW. My heart is as an anvil unto sorrow,
Which beats upon it like the Cyclops' hammers,
And with the noise turns up my giddy brain,

And makes me frantick for my Gaveston.
Ah! had some bloodless fury rose from hell,
And with my kingly sceptre struck me dead,
When I was forc'd to leave my Gaveston!

LAN. Diablo! what passions call you these? QUEEN. My gracious lord, I come to bring you

news.

EDW. That you have parley'd with your Mortimer? QUEEN. That Gaveston, my lord, shall be repeal'd.

EDW. Repeal'd! the news is too sweet to be true!
QUEEN. But will you love me, if you find it so?
EDW. If it be so, what will not Edward do?
QUEEN. For Gaveston, but not for Isabel.
EDW. For thee, fair queen, if thou lov'st Ga-
veston,

I'll hang a golden tongue about thy neck,
Seeing thou hast pleaded with so good success.
QUEEN. No other jewels hang about my neck
Than these, my lord; nor let me have more wealth
Than I may fetch from this rich treasure-

O how a kiss revives poor Isabel!

EDW. Once more receive my hand; and let this be

A second marriage 'twixt thyself and me.

QUEEN. And may it prove more happy than the first!

My gentle lord, bespeak these nobles fair,

That wait attendance for a gracious look,

And on their knees salute your majesty.

EDW. Courageous Lancaster, embrace thy king; And as gross vapours perish by the sun, Even so let hatred with thy sovereign's smile. Live thou with me as my companion.

LAN. This salutation overjoys my heart. EDW. Warwick shall be my chiefest counsellor : These silver hairs will more adorn my court, Than gaudy silks, or rich embroidery. Chide me, sweet Warwick, if I go astray.

WAR. Slay me, my lord, when I offend your grace.

EDW. In solemn triumphs, and in publick shows, Pembroke shall bear the sword before the king. PEM. And with this sword Pembroke will fight

for you.

EDW. But wherefore walks young Mortimer aside? Be thou commander of our royal fleet;

Or if that lofty office like thee not,

I make thee here lord marshal of the realm.

Y. MOR. My lord, I'll marshal so your enemies, As England shall be quiet, and you safe.

EDW. And as for you, lord Mortimer of Chirke, Whose great achievements in our foreign war Deserve no common place, nor mean reward; Be you the general of the levied troops, That now are ready to assail the Scots.

E. MOR. In this your grace hath highly honour'd

me,