Manent SPENCER filius, LEWEN, and BALDOCK. Spen. Lewen, the trust that we repose in thee, Begets the quiet of king Edward's land. Therefore begone in haste, and with advice Bestow that treasure on the lords of France, That therewith all enchanted, like the guard That suffered Jove to pass in showers of gold To Danaë, all aid may be denied To Isabel the queen, that now in France Lewen. That's it these barons and the subtile queen Edm. Fair blows the wind for France; blow, Till Edmund be arrived for England's good! Enter MORTIMER disguised. Mor. jun. Holla! who walketh there? is't you, my lord? Edm. Mortimer, 'tis I; but hath thy potion wrought so happily? Mor. jun. It hath, my lord; the warders all asleep, I thank them, give me leave to pass in peace. But hath your grace got shipping unto France? Edm. Fear it not. [Exeunt. Enter the QUEEN and her Son. The lords are cruel, and the king unkind; Prince. Madam, return to England, He loves me better than a thousand Spencers. Queen. Ah, boy, thou art deceived, at least in this, To think that we can yet be tuned together; Sir John. Madam, what cheer? Sir John. I hear, sweet lady, of the king's unkind The king of England, not the court of France, Queen. Oh, my sweet heart! how do I moan thy wrong, Yet triumph in the hope of thee, my joy! Enter EDMUND and MORTIMER. Queen. Lord Edmund and lord Mortimer alive! Welcome to France! the news was here, my lord, That you were dead, or very near your death. Mor jun. Lady, the last was truest of the But Mortimer, reserved for better hap, No, my lord Mortimer, not I, I trow. no worse. But, gentle lords, friendless we are in France. Mor. jun. Monsieur le Grand, a noble friend of yours, Told us, at our arrival, all the news; room, Where weapons won't; and though so many friends 180 Yet have we friends, assure your grace, in Eng- Would cast up caps, and clap their hands for joy, For England's honour, peace, and quietness! The king will ne'er forsake his flatterers. Sir John. My lords of England, sith the gentle king Mat. From the lieutenant of the Tower, my Edw. I pray let us see it. What have we there? What now remains? have you proclaimed, my lord, un-Reward for them can bring in Mortimer? Of France refuseth to give aid of arms Prince. I think, king Edward will outrun us all. courage Your friends, that are so forward in aid. Queen. Yea, gentle brother; and the God of Prosper your happy motion, good sir John! Spen. jun. My lord, we have; and, if he be in He will be had ere long, I doubt it not. Edw. If! do'st thou say? Spencer, as true as He is in England's ground; our portmasters Enter a Post. How now, what news with thee? from whence Post. Letters, my lord, and tidings forth of To you, my lord of Glo'ster, from Lewen. SPENCER reads the Letters. "My duty to your honour premised,&c. I have, Mor. jun. This noble gentleman, forward in according to instructions in that behalf, dealt with the king of France, his lords, and effected that Edw. Ab, villains! hath that Mortimer escaped? 43 Gallop a-pace, &c.—Shakespeare has imitated these lines in Romeo and Juliet, A. 3. S, 2 : "Gallop apace, you fiery-footed steeds, Towards Phoebus mansion; such a waggoner As Phaeton would whip you to the west, Enter the QUEEN, her Son, EDMUND, MORTIMER, and Sir JOHN. Queen. Now, lords, our loving friends, and countrymen, Welcome to England all, with prosperous winds; Our kindest friends in Belgia have we left, To cope with friends at home; a heavy case, When force to force is knit, and sword and ++ gleave In civil broils make kin and countrymen Misgoverned kings are cause of all this wreck; Mor. jun. Nay, madam, if you be a warrior, Edward will think we come to flatter him. Edm. I would he never had been flattered more! [Exeunt. Enter the KING, BALDOCK, and SPENCER the Son, flying about the Stage. Spen. Fly, fly, my lord, the queen is overstrong, EDMUND alone, with a Sword and Target. This way he fled, but I am come too late. Edward, alas! my heart relents for thee. Proud traitor, Mortimer, why dost thou chase Thy lawful king, thy sovereign, with thy sword?— Vile wretch! and why hast thou, of all unkind, Borne arms against thy brother and thy king? Rain showers of vengeance on my cursed head, Thou God, to whom in justice it belongs To punish this unnatural revolt!— Edward, this Mortimer aims at thy life: O fly him then!-but, Edmund, calm this rage, Dissemble, or thou diest; for Mortimer And Isabel do kiss, while they conspire: And yet she bears a face of love, forsooth. Fie on that love that hatcheth death and hate! Edmund, away; Bristol to Longshanks's blood Is false; be not found single for suspect: Proud Mortimer pryes near into thy walks. Enter the Queen, MORTIMER, the young Prince, and Sir JOHN of Henault. Queen. Successful battle gives the God of kings To them that fight in right, and fear his wrath. Since then successfully we have prevailed, Thanked be heaven's great architect, and you! Ere farther we proceed, my noble lords, We here create our well-beloved son, Of love and care unto his royal person, Lord warden of the realm; and, sith the fates Have made his father so unfortunate, Deal you, my lords, in this, my loving lords, As to your wisdoms fittest seems in all. Edm. Madam, without offence, if I may ask, How will you deal with Edward in his fall? Prince. Tell me, good uncle, what Edward do you mean? 44 Gleave-Or glave, a weapon like a halberd. It is mentioned in Churchyard's Challenge, p. 44: "And wanting wealth to pay this heavy sum, With billes and glayves from prison was I led." Again, Arden of Feversham: Edward III. A. 3. S. 5: "O mistris, the major, and all the watch, Are coming towards our house with glaves and bills." with their pond'rous glaives.". Edm Nephew, your father; I dare not call him king. Mor. My lord of Kent, what needs these questions? *Tis not in her controlment, nor in ours, But as the realm and parliament shall please, So shall your brother be disposed of. I like not this relenting mood in Edmund, [Aside, to the Queen. Madam, 'tis good to look to him betimes. Queen. My lord, the mayor of Bristol knows our mind. Mor. Yea, madam, and they 'scape not easily That fled the field. Queen. Baldock is with the king; A goodly chancellor, is he not, my lord? Sir John. So are the Spencers, the father and the son. Edm. This Edward is the ruin of the realm. Enter RICE AP HOWELL, and the Mayor of | And we must seek to right it as we may. Shall do good service to her majesty, [Exeunt. Enter the Abbot, Monks, EDWARD, SPENCER, and BALDOCK. Abbot. Have you no doubt, my lord; have you no fear; As silent and as careful we will be, Bris-Free from 45 suspect, and fell invasion Of such as have your majesty in chase, Madam, the mayor and citizens of Bristol, Mor. jun. Your loving care in this Edw. Father, thy face should harbour no de ceit. O! hadst thou ever been a king, thy heart, Make trial now of that philosophy, They shall be started thence, I doubt it not. land's bounds! Sir John. Madam, what resteth? why stand ye in a muse? Queen. I rue my lord's ill fortune; but, alas! Care of my country called me to this war. Mor. Madam, have done with care and sad complaint, Your king hath wronged your country and himself; Do you betray us and our company. Monks. Your grace may sit secure, if none but we do 46 wot of your abode. Spen. Not one alive, but, shrewdly I suspect, A gloomy fellow, in a mead below; He gave a long look after us, my lord; And all the land I know is up in arms; Arms that pursue our lives with deadly hate. 45 Suspect,-i. e. suspicion. So, in Middleton's More Dissemblers besides Women, A. 2. S. 1: Bald. We were embarked for Ireland, wretch- With awkward winds and sore tempests driven Edw. Mortimer! who talks of Mortimer? Betides no good; here even we are betrayed. Enter, with Welch Hooks,47 RICE AP HOWEL, a Mower, and the Earl of LEICESTER. Mower. 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. Lei. The queen's commission, urged by Morti mer. What cannot Mortimer with the queeu! But, Leicester, leave to grow so passionate.- Stand not on titles, but obey the arrest; Edu. O day! the last of all my bliss on earth! Center of all misfortune! O my stars! Why do you low'r unkindly on a king? Comes Leicester then, in Isabella's name, To take my life, my company from me? Here, man, rip up this panting breast of mine, And take my heart in rescue of my friends. Rice. Away with them! Spen. It may become thee yet, To let us take our farewell of his grace. Abbot. My heart with pity yearns to see this sight; A king to bear these words and proud commands. Edw. Spencer, ah sweet Spencer, thus then must we part? Spen. We must, my lord, so will the angry hea vens. Edw. Nay, so will hell and cruel Mortimer; The gentle heavens have not to do with this. Buld. 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. Edw. In heaven we may, in earth ne'er shall we meet : And, Leicester, say, what shall become of us? Lei. Your majesty must go to Killingworth. Edw. Must! 'tis somewhat hard, when kings must go. Lei. Here is a litter ready for your grace, That waits your pleasure, and the day grows old. Rice. As good be gone, as stay and be benighted. 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, Sweet Spencer, gentle Baldock, part we must! Earth, melt to air! gone is my sovereign! Bald. Spencer, I see our souls are fleeting We are deprived the sunshine of our life; To die, sweet Spencer; therefore live we all; Rice. Come, come, keep these preachments till To the place appointed. You, and such as you are; - 47 Welch hooks,-What kind of weapons these were is not precisely known. Mr Steevens is of opinion, that the Welch hook and the brown bill are no more than varieties of the securis falcata, or probably a weapon of the same kind with the Lochaber axe, which was used in the late rebellion Colonel Gardner was attacked with such a one at the battle of Prestonpans. Mr Tollet imagines a weapon, of which a print is given, from the hooked form of it, to be the Welch hook. See Notes in the First Part of Henry IV. A. 2. S. 4. |