The Works of Christopher Marlowe Volume II Part 38

_Queen._ News of dishonour, lord, and discontent.

Our friend Levune, faithful and full of trust, 60 Informeth us, by letters and by words, That Lord Valois our brother, King of France, Because your highness hath been slack in homage, Hath seized Normandy into his hands.

These be the letters, this the messenger.

_Edw._ Welcome, Levune. Tush, Sib, if this be all, Valois and I will soon be friends again.-- But to my Gaveston; shall I never see, Never behold thee now?[264]--Madam, in this matter, We will employ you and your little son; 70 You shall go parley with the King of France.

Boy, see you bear you bravely to the king.

And do your message with a majesty.

_Prince._ Commit not to my youth things of more weight Than fits a prince so young as I to bear, And fear not, lord and father, heaven's great beams On Atlas' shoulder shall not lie more safe, Than shall your charge committed to my trust.

_Queen._ Ah, boy! this towardness makes thy mother fear Thou art not marked to many days on earth. 80

_Edw._ Madam, we will that you with speed be s.h.i.+pped, And this our son; Levune shall follow you With all the haste we can despatch him hence.

Chuse of our lords to bear you company; And go in peace, leave us in wars at home.

_Queen._ Unnatural wars, where subjects brave their king; G.o.d end them once! My lord, I take my leave, To make my preparation for France. [_Exit with_ Prince.

_Enter_ ARUNDEL.

_Edw._ What, Lord Arundel, dost thou come alone?

_Arun._ Yea, my good lord, for Gaveston is dead. 90

_Edw._ Ah, traitors! have they put my friend to death?

Tell me, Arundel, died he ere thou cam'st, Or didst thou see my friend to take his death?

_Arun._ Neither, my lord; for as he was surprised, Begirt with weapons and with enemies round, I did your highness' message to them all; Demanding him of them, entreating rather, And said, upon the honour of my name, That I would undertake to carry him Unto your highness, and to bring him back. 100

_Edw._ And tell me, would the rebels deny me that?

_Y. Spen._ Proud recreants!

_Edw._ Yea, Spencer, traitors all.

_Arun._ I found them at the first inexorable; The Earl of Warwick would not bide the hearing, Mortimer hardly, Pembroke and Lancaster Spake least: and when they flatly had denied, Refusing to receive my pledge for him, The Earl of Pembroke mildly thus bespake; "My lord, because our sovereign sends for him, And promiseth he shall be safe returned, 110 I will this undertake, to have him hence, And see him re-delivered to your hands."

_Edw._ Well, and how fortunes [it] that he came not?

_Y. Spen._ Some treason, or some villany, was the cause.

_Arun._ The Earl of Warwick seized him on his way; For being delivered unto Pembroke's men, Their lord rode home thinking his prisoner safe; But ere he came, Warwick in ambush lay, And bare him to his death; and in a trench Strake off his head, and marched unto the camp. 120

_Y. Spen._ A b.l.o.o.d.y part, flatly 'gainst law of arms.

_Edw._ O shall I speak, or shall I sigh and die!

_Y. Spen._ My lord, refer your vengeance to the sword Upon these barons; hearten up your men; Let them not unrevenged murder your friends!

Advance your standard, Edward, in the field, And march to fire them from their starting holes.

[EDWARD _kneels_.

_Edw._ By earth, the common mother of us all, By heaven, and all the moving orbs thereof, By this right hand, and by my father's sword, 130 And all the honours 'longing to my crown, I will have heads, and lives for him, as many As I have manors, castles, towns, and towers! [_Rises._ Treacherous Warwick! traitorous Mortimer!

If I be England's king, in lakes of gore Your headless trunks, your bodies will I trail, That you may drink your fill, and quaff in blood, And stain my royal standard with the same, That so my b.l.o.o.d.y colours may suggest Remembrance of revenge immortally 140 On your accursed traitorous progeny, You villains, that have slain my Gaveston!

And in his place of honour and of trust, Spencer, sweet Spencer, I adopt thee here: And merely of our love we do create thee Earl of Gloucester, and Lord Chamberlain, Despite of times, despite of enemies.

_Y. Spen._ My Lord, here is[265] a messenger from the barons Desires access unto your majesty.

_Edw._ Admit him near. 150

_Enter the_ Herald _from the_ Barons, _with his coat of arms._

_Her._ Long live King Edward, England's lawful lord!

_Edw._ So wish not they, I wis, that sent thee hither.

Thou com'st from Mortimer and his complices, A ranker rout[266] of rebels never was.

Well, say thy message.

_Her._ The barons up in arms, by me salute Your highness with long life and happiness; And bid me say, as plainer to your grace, That if without effusion of blood You will this grief have ease and remedy, 160 That from your princely person you remove This Spencer, as a putrefying branch, That deads the royal vine, whose golden leaves[267]

Empale your princely head, your diadem, Whose brightness such pernicious upstarts dim, Say they; and lovingly advise your grace, To cherish virtue and n.o.bility, And have old servitors in high esteem, And shake off smooth dissembling flatterers: This granted, they, their honours, and their lives, 170 Are to your highness vowed and consecrate.

_Y. Spen._ Ah, traitors! will they still display their pride?

_Edw._ Away, tarry no answer, but be gone!

Rebels, will they appoint their sovereign His sports, his pleasures, and his company?

Yet, ere thou go, see how I do divorce [_Embraces_ SPENCER.

Spencer from me.--Now get thee to thy lords, And tell them I will come to chastise them For murdering Gaveston; hie thee, get thee gone!

Edward with fire and sword follows at thy heels. 180 My lord[s], perceive you how these rebels swell?

Soldiers, good hearts, defend your sovereign's right, For now, even now, we march to make them stoop.

Away!

[_Exeunt. Alarums, excursions, a great fight, and a retreat._

SCENE III.

_Enter the_ KING, OLD SPENCER, YOUNG SPENCER, _and the_ n.o.blemen _of the_ KING'S _side_.

_Edw._ Why do we sound retreat? upon them, lords!

This day I shall pour vengeance with my sword On those proud rebels that are up in arms, And do confront and countermand their king.

_Y. Spen._ I doubt it not, my lord, right will prevail.

_O. Spen._ 'Tis not amiss, my liege, for either part To breathe awhile; our men, with sweat and dust All choked well near, begin to faint for heat; And this retire refresheth horse and man.

_Y. Spen._ Here come the rebels. 10

_Enter_ YOUNG MORTIMER, LANCASTER, WARWICK, PEMBROKE, _&c_.

_E. Mor._ Look, Lancaster, yonder is Edward Among his flatterers.

_Lan._ And there let him be Till he pay dearly for their company.