SCENE II.

_Enter_[216] EDWARD, _the_ QUEEN, LANCASTER, YOUNG MORTIMER, WARWICK, PEMBROKE, KENT, _and_ Attendants.

_Edw._ The wind is good, I wonder why he stays; I fear me he is wrecked upon the sea.

_Queen._ Look, Lancaster, how pa.s.sionate he is, And still his mind runs on his minion!

_Lan._ My lord.

_Edw._ How now! what news? is Gaveston arrived?

_Y. Mor._ Nothing but Gaveston! what means your grace?

You have matters of more weight to think upon; The King of France sets foot in Normandy.

_Edw._ A trifle! we'll expel him when we please. 10 But tell me, Mortimer, what's thy device Against the stately triumph we decreed?

_Y. Mor._ A homely one, my lord, not worth the telling.

_Edw._ Pray thee let me know it.

_Y. Mor._ But, seeing you are so desirous, thus it is: A lofty cedar-tree, fair flourishing, On whose top-branches kingly eagles perch, And by the bark a canker creeps me up, And gets into the highest bough of all: The motto, _aeque tandem_. 20

_Edw._ And what is yours, my lord of Lancaster?

_Lan._ My lord, mine's more obscure than Mortimer's.

Pliny[217] reports there is a[218] flying fish Which all the other fishes deadly hate, And therefore, being pursued, it takes the air: No sooner is it up, but there's a fowl That seizeth it: this fish, my lord, I bear, The motto this: _Undique mors est_.

_Kent._[219] Proud Mortimer! ungentle Lancaster!

Is this the love you bear your sovereign? 30 Is this the fruit your reconcilement bears?

Can you in words make show of amity, And in your shields display your rancorous minds!

What call you this but private libelling Against the Earl of Cornwall and my brother?

_Queen._ Sweet husband, be content, they all love you.

_Edw._ They love me not that hate my Gaveston.

I am that cedar, shake me not too much; And you the eagles; soar ye ne'er so high, I have the jesses[220] that will pull you down; 40 And _aeque tandem_ shall that canker cry Unto the proudest peer of Britainy.

Though thou compar'st him to a flying fish, And threatenest death whether he rise or fall, 'Tis not the hugest monster of the sea, Nor foulest harpy that shall swallow him.

_Y. Mor._ If in his absence thus he favours him, What will he do whenas he shall be present?

_Lan._ That shall we see; look where his lordship comes.

_Enter_ GAVESTON.

_Edw._ My Gaveston! 50 Welcome to Tynemouth! welcome to thy friend!

Thy absence made me droop and pine away; For, as the lovers of fair Danae, When she was locked up in a brazen tower, Desired her more, and waxed outrageous, So did it fare[221] with me: and now thy sight Is sweeter far than was thy parting hence Bitter and irksome to my sobbing heart.

_Gav._ Sweet lord and king, your speech preventeth mine, Yet have I words left to express my joy: 60 The shepherd nipt with biting winter's rage Frolics not more to see the painted spring, Than I do to behold your majesty.

_Edw._ Will none of you salute my Gaveston?

_Lan._ Salute him? yes; welcome, Lord Chamberlain!

_Y. Mor._ Welcome is the good Earl of Cornwall!

_War._ Welcome, Lord Governor of the Isle of Man!

_Pem._ Welcome, Master Secretary!

_Kent._ Brother, do you hear them?

_Edw._ Still will these earls and barons use me thus. 70

_Gav._ My lord, I cannot brook these injuries.

_Queen._ Aye me, poor soul, when these begin to jar. [_Aside._

_Edw._ Return it to their throats, I'll be thy warrant.

_Gav._ Base, leaden earls, that glory in your birth, Go sit at home and eat your tenants' beef; And come not here to scoff at Gaveston, Whose mounting thoughts did never creep so low As to bestow a look on such as you.

_Lan._ Yet I disdain not to do this for you. [_Draws._

_Edw._ Treason! treason! where's the traitor? 80

_Pem._ Here! here! king.[222]

[_Edw._] Convey hence Gaveston; they'll murder him.

_Gav._ The life of thee shall salve this foul disgrace.

_Y. Mor._ Villain! thy life, unless I miss mine aim.

[_Offers to stab him._ _Queen._ Ah! furious Mortimer, what hast thou done?

_Y. Mor._ No more than I would answer, were he slain.

[_Exit_ GAVESTON _with Attendants._

_Edw._ Yes, more than thou canst answer, though he live; Dear shall you both abide this riotous deed.

Out of my presence! come not near the court.

_Y. Mor._ I'll not be barred the court for Gaveston. 90

_Lan._ We'll hale him by the ears unto the block.

_Edw._ Look to your own heads; his is sure enough.

_War._ Look to your own crown, if you back him thus.

_Kent._ Warwick, these words do ill beseem thy years.