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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.
To mend the king, and do our country good.
Which may in Ireland purchase him such friends,
WAR. Mark you but that, my lord of Lancaster.
And none so much as blame the murderer,
For purging of the realm of such a plague?
LAN. Aye, but how chance this was not done before?
Nay, more, when he shall know it lies in us
To banish him, and then to call him home,
E. MOR. But how if he do not, nephew?
Y. MOR. Then may we with some colour rise in
For howsoever we have borne it out,
'Tis treason to be up against the king;
And when the commons and the nobles join,
E. MOR. And I.
Y. MOR. In this I count me highly gratify'd,
EDW. He's gone, and for his absence thus I
Did never sorrow go so near my heart,
As doth the want of my sweet Gaveston!
And think I gain'd, having bought so dear a friend.
And makes me frantick for my Gaveston.
LAN. Diablo! what passions call you these? QUEEN. My gracious lord, I come to bring you
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!
I'll hang a golden tongue about thy neck,
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
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