LANCASTER

My lord, why do you thus incense your peers, That naturally would love and honour you: But for that base and obscure Gaveston, Four Earldoms have I beside Lancaster, Darby, Salsbury, Lincoln, Leicester, These will I fell to give my soldiers pay, Ere Gaveston shall stay within the realm, Therefore if he be come, expel him straight. What? will they tyrannise upon the Church? Ah wicked king, accursed Gaveston, This ground which is corrupted with their steps, Shall be their timeless sepulcher, or mine. That villain Gaveston is made and Earl. My lord of Cornwall, now at every word, And happy is the man, whom he vouchsafes For vailing of his bonnet one good look, Thus arm in arm, the king and he doth march: Nay more, the Guard upon his lordship waits: And all the court begins to flatter him. All stomach him, but none dare speak a word. His countenance bewrays he is displeased. My lord, will you take arms against the king? No, but weel lift Gaveston from hence. What we confirm the king will frustrate. Come then lets away. Here is the form of Gavestons exile: May it please your lordship to subscribe your name. Quick quick my lord, I long to write my name. Your grace does well to place him by your side, For no where else the new earl is so safe. My lord, you may not thus disparage us, Away I say with hateful Gaveston. Learn then to rule us better and the realm. Then linger not my lord but do it straight. Come, come, subscribe. Give it me, isle have it published in the streets. Fear you not Madam, now his minions gone, His wanton humour will be quickly left. For his repeal, Madam, he comes not back, Unless the sea cast up his shipwreck body. And so am I my lord, dissuade the Queen. And see how coldly his looks make denial. In no respect can contraries be true. I, but how chance this was not done before? On that condition Lancaster will grant. Diablo, what passion call you these This salutation ouerioyes my heart. Such news we hear my lord. My Lord. My lord, mines more obscure then Mortimers, Pliny reports, there is a flying Fish, Which all the other fish deadly hate, And therefore being pursued, it takes the air: No sooner is it up, but the a foul, That seizeth it: this fish my lord I bear, The motto this: Undique mors est. That shall we see, look where his lordship comes. Salute him? yes welcome Lord Chamberlain. Yet I disdain not to do this for you. Weel hail him by the ears unto the block. Cousin it is no dealing with him now, He means to make us stoop by force of arms, And therefore let us jointly here protest, To prosecute that Gaveston to the death. And so does Lancaster : Now send our Heralds to defy the King, And make the people swear to put him down. Why how now cousin, how fares all our friends? Do cousin, and isle bear thee company. Be resolute, and full of secrecy. Content, isle bear my partly, holl a whose there? Led on the way. Why, so he may, but we will speak to him. It in your wars, you should ransom him. Your minion Gaveston hath taught you this. And so will I, and then my lord farewell. Look for rebellion, look to be deposed, Thy garrisons are beaten out of France, And lame and poor, lie groaning at the gates, The wild Oneyle, with swarms of Irish Kerns, Lives vncontroulde within the English pale, Unto the walls of York the Scots made road, And unresisted, drove away rich spoils. What foreign prince sends thee ambassadors? Thy gentle Queen, sole sister to Valois, Complains, that thou hast left her all forlorn. The Northern borderers seeing the houses burned Their wives and children slain, run up and down, Cursing the name of thee and Gaveston. And thereof came it, that the fleering Scots, To England's high disgrace, have made this Jig, Maids of England, soar may you moorne, For your lemons you have lost, at Bannocks born, With a heave and a ho, What weens the king of England, So soon to have won Scotland, With a rombelow. And when 'tis gone, our swords shall purchase more, If you be moou'de, revenge it as you can, Look next to see us with our ensigns spread. I fear me you are sent of policy, To undermine us with a show of love. And it suffices: now my lords know this, That Gaveston is secretly arriude, And here in Tinmoth frolicks with the king, Let us with these our followers scale the walls, And suddenly surprise them unawares. I wonder how he escaped. No madam, but that cursed Gaveston, Far be it from the thought of Lancaster, To offer violence to his sovereign, We would but rid the realm of Gaveston, Tell us where he remains, and he shall die. The wind that bears him hence, will fill our sails, Come, come aboard, 'tis but and hours sailing. Monster of men, that Like the Greekish strumpet Trained to arms and bloody wars, So many valiant knights, Look for no other fortune wretch then death, Kind Edward is not here to buckler thee. How now my lord of Arundel? Not so my Lord, least he bestow more cost, In burying him, then he hath ever earned. Why I say, let him go on Penbrookes word. And there let him be, till he pay dearly for their company. Th'ad best betimes forsake thee and their trains, For theile betray thee, traitors as they are. The worst is death, and better die to live, Then live in infamy under such a king. Sweet Mortimer farewell. And Northward Gaveston hath many friends, Adieu my Lord, and either change your mind, Or look to see the throne where you should fit, To float in blood, and at thy wanton head, The glozing head of thy base minion thrown. Look where the sister of the king of France, Sits wringing of her hands, and beats her breast. My Lords albeit the Queen win Mortimer, will you be resolute and hold with me? I'll rather lose his friendship I, then grant. Fie Mortimer, dishonour not thy self, Can this be true it good to banish him? And is this true to call him home again? Such reasons make white black, and dark night day. None be so hardy as to touch the King, But neither spare you Gaveston, nor his friends. My Lord. Weel have him ransomed man, be of good cheer. Sweet uncle speak more kindly to the queen.