Edward the Second Part 9

_Enter_ QUEEN ISABELLA _and_ PRINCE EDWARD.

_Q. Isab._ Ah, boy, our friends do fail us all in France!

The lords are cruel, and the king unkind.

What shall we do?

_P. Edw._ Madam, return to England, And please my father well; and then a fig For all my uncle's friendship here in France!

I warrant you, I'll win his highness quickly; 'A loves me better than a thousand Spensers.

_Q. Isab._ Ah, boy, thou art deceiv'd, at least in this, To think that we can yet be tun'd together!

No, no, we jar too far.--Unkind Valois!

Unhappy Isabel, when France rejects, Whither, O, whither dost thou bend thy steps?

_Enter_ SIR JOHN OF HAINAULT.

_Sir J._ Madam, what cheer?

_Q. Isab._ Ah, good Sir John of Hainault, Never so cheerless nor so far distrest!

_Sir J._ I hear, sweet lady, of the king's unkindness: But droop not, madam; n.o.ble minds contemn Despair. Will your grace with me to Hainault, And there stay time's advantage with your son?-- How say you, my lord! will you go with your friends, And shake off all our fortunes equally?

_P. Edw._ So pleaseth the queen my mother, me it likes: The king of England, not the court of France, Shall have me from my gracious mother's side, Till I be strong enough to break a staff; And then have at the proudest Spenser's head!

_Sir J._ Well said, my lord!

_Q. Isab._ O my sweet heart, how do I moan thy wrongs, Yet triumph in the hope of thee, my joy!-- Ah, sweet Sir John, even to the utmost verge Of Europe, on the sh.o.r.e of Tanais, Will we with thee to Hainault--so we will: The marquis is a n.o.ble gentleman; His grace, I dare presume, will welcome me.-- But who are these?

_Enter_ KENT _and the younger_ MORTIMER.

_Kent._ Madam, long may you live, Much happier than your friends in England do!

_Q. Isab._ Lord Edmund and Lord Mortimer alive!

Welcome to France! the news was here, my lord, That you were dead, or very near your death.

_Y. Mor._ Lady, the last was truest of the twain: But Mortimer, reserv'd for better hap, Hath shaken off the thraldom of the Tower, And lives t' advance your standard, good my lord.

_P. Edw._ How mean you, and the king my father lives?

No, my Lord Mortimer, not I, I trow.

_Q. Isab._ Not, son! Why not? I would it were no worse!-- But, gentle lords, friendless we are in France.

_Y. Mor._ Monsieur Le Grand, a n.o.ble friend of yours, Told us, at our arrival, all the news,-- How hard the n.o.bles, how unkind the king Hath show'd himself: but, madam, right makes room Where weapons want; and, though a many friends Are made away, as Warwick, Lancaster, And others of our part and faction, Yet have we friends, a.s.sure your grace, in England, Would cast up caps, and clap their hands for joy, To see us there, appointed for our foes.

_Kent._ Would all were well, and Edward well reclaim'd, For England's honour, peace, and quietness!

_Y. Mor._ But by the sword, my lord, 't must be deserv'd: The king will ne'er forsake his flatterers.

_Sir J._ My lords of England, sith th' ungentle king Of France refuseth to give aid of arms To this distressed queen, his sister, here, Go you with her to Hainault: doubt ye not We will find comfort, money, men, and friends, Ere long to bid the English king a base.-- How say'st, young prince, what think you of the match?

_P. Edw._ I think King Edward will outrun us all.

_Q. Isab._ Nay, son, not so; and you must not discourage Your friends that are so forward in your aid.

_Kent._ Sir John of Hainault, pardon us, I pray: These comforts that you give our woful queen Bind us in kindness all at your command.

_Q. Isab._ Yea, gentle brother:--and the G.o.d of heaven Prosper your happy motion, good Sir John!

_Y. Mor._ This n.o.ble gentleman, forward in arms, Was born, I see, to be our anchor-hold.-- Sir John of Hainault, be it thy renown, That England's queen and n.o.bles in distress Have been by thee restor'd and comforted.

_Sir J._ Madam, along; and you, my lord[s], with me, That England's peers may Hainault's welcome see. [_Exeunt._

_Enter_ KING EDWARD, ARUNDEL, _the elder_ SPENSER, _the younger_ SPENSER, _and others._

_K. Edw._ Thus, after many threats of wrathful war, Triumpheth England's Edward with his friends, And triumph Edward with his friends uncontroll'd!-- My Lord of Glocester, do you hear the news?

_Y. Spen._ What news, my lord?

_K. Edw._ Why, man, they say there is great execution Done through the realm.--My Lord of Arundel, You have the note, have you not?

_Arun._From the Lieutenant of the Tower, my lord.

_K. Edw._ I pray, let us see it. [_Takes the note from Arundel._ --What have we there?-- Read it, Spenser.

[_Gives the note to young Spenser, who reads their names._ Why, so: they bark'd apace a month ago; Now, on my life, they'll neither bark nor bite.

Now, sirs, the news from France? Glocester, I trow, The lords of France love England's gold so well As Isabella gets no aid from thence.

What now remains? have you proclaim'd, my lord, Reward for them can bring in Mortimer?

_Y. Spen._ My lord, we have; and, if he be in England, 'A will be had ere long, I doubt it not.

_K. Edw._ If, dost thou say? Spenser, as true as death, He is in England's ground: our port-masters Are not so careless of their king's command.

_Enter a_ Messenger.

How now! what news with thee? from whence come these?

_Mess._ Letters, my lord, and tidings forth of France: To you, my Lord of Glocester, from Levune.

[_Gives letters to young Spenser._ _K. Edw._ Read.

_Y. Spen._ [reading.] _My duty to your honour promised, etc., I have, according to instructions in that behalf, dealt with the King of France and his lords, and effected that the queen, all discontented and discomforted, is gone: whither, if you ask, with Sir John of Hainault, brother to the marquis, into Flanders. With them are gone Lord Edmund and the Lord Mortimer, having in their company divers of your nation, and others; and, as constant report goeth, they intend to give King Edward battle in England, sooner than he can look for them. This is all the news of import.

Your honour's in all service, Levune._ _K. Edw._ Ah, villains, hath that Mortimer escap'd?

With him is Edmund gone a.s.sociate?

And will Sir John of Hainault lead the round?

Welcome, o' G.o.d's name, madam, and your son!

England shall welcome you and all your rout.

Gallop apace, bright Ph?bus, through the sky; And, dusky Night, in rusty iron car, Between you both shorten the time, I pray, That I may see that most desired day, When we may meet these traitors in the field!

Ah, nothing grieves me, but my little boy Is thus misled to countenance their ills!

Come, friends, to Bristow, there to make us strong: And, winds, as equal be to bring them in, As you injurious were to bear them forth! [_Exeunt._

_Enter_ QUEEN ISABELLA, PRINCE EDWARD, KENT, _the younger_ MORTIMER, _and_ SIR JOHN OF HAINAULT.

_Q. Isab._ 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 glaive In civil broils make kin and countrymen Slaughter themselves in others, and their sides With their own weapons gor'd! But what's the help?

Misgovern'd kings are cause of all this wreck; And, Edward, thou art one among them all, Whose looseness hath betray'd thy land to spoil, Who made the channel overflow with blood Of thine own people: patron shouldst thou be; But thou-- _Y. Mor._ Nay, madam, if you be a warrior, You must not grow so pa.s.sionate in speeches.-- Lords, sith that we are, by sufferance of heaven, Arriv'd and armed in this prince's right, Here for our country's cause swear we to him All homage, fealty, and forwardness; And for the open wrongs and injuries Edward hath done to us, his queen, and land, We come in arms to wreck it with the sword; That England's queen in peace may repossess Her dignities and honours; and withal We may remove these flatterers from the king That havock England's wealth and treasury.

_Sir J._ Sound trumpets, my lord, and forward let us march.

Edward will think we come to flatter him.

_Kent._ I would he never had been flatter'd more! [_Exeunt._

_Enter_ KING EDWARD, BALDOCK, _and the younger_ SPENSER.

_Y. Spen._ Fly, fly, my lord! the queen is overstrong; Her friends do multiply, and yours do fail.

Shape we our course to Ireland, there to breathe.

_K. Edw._ What, was I born to fly and run away, And leave the Mortimers conquerors behind?

Give me my horse, and let's reinforce our troops.

And in this bed of honour die with fame.

_Bald._ O, no, my lord! this princely resolution Fits not the time: away! we are pursu'd. [_Exeunt._

_Enter_ KENT, _with a sword and target._

_Kent._ 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 G.o.d, 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! Bristow to Longshanks' blood Is false; be not found single for suspect: Proud Mortimer pries near into thy walks.

_Enter_ QUEEN ISABELLA, PRINCE EDWARD, _the younger_ MORTIMER, _and_ SIR JOHN JOHN OF HAINAULT.

_Q. Isab._ Successful battle gives the G.o.d of kings To them that fight in right, and fear in wrath, Since, then, successfully we have prevail'd, Thanked be heaven's great architect, and you!

Ere farther we proceed, my n.o.ble 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 infortunate, Deal you, my lords, in this, my loving lords, As to your wisdoms fittest seems in all.