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Act One, Scene Two

Enter both the Mortimers, Warwicke, and Lancaster.

Warwicke
Tis true, the Bishop is in the tower,
And goods and body given to Gaveston.

Lancaster
What? will they tyrannize upon the Church?
Ah wicked king, accurssed Gaveston,
This ground which is corrupted with their steps,
Shall be their timeles sepulcher, or mine.

Mortimer
Lancaster
Wel, let that peevish Frenchman guard him sure,
Unlesse his brest be sword proofe he shall die.

Mortimer senior
How now, why droops the earle of Lancaster?

Mortimer
Wherfore is Guy of
Warwicke discontent?

Lancaster
That villaine Gaveston is made an Earle.

Mortimer senior
An Earle!

Warwicke
I, and besides, lord Chamberlaine of the realme,
And secretary to, and lord of Man.

Mortimer senior
We may not, nor we will not suffer this. Mortimer.
Why post we not from hence to levie men?

Lancaster
My lord of Cornewall now, at every worde,
And happie is the man, whom he vouchsafes
For vailing of his bonnet one good looke.
Thus arme in arme, the king and he dooth marche:
Nay more, the guarde upon his lordship waites:
And all the court begins to flatter him.

Warwicke
Thus leaning on the shoulder of the king,
He nods, and scornes, and smiles at those that passe.

Mortimer senior
Doth no man take exceptions at the slave?

Lancaster
All stomack him, but none dare speake a word.

Mortimer
Ah that bewraies their basenes Lancaster,
Were all the Earles and Barons of my minde,
Weele hale him from the bosome of the king,
And at the court gate hang the pessant up,
Who swolne with venome of ambitious pride,
Will be the ruine of the realme and us.
Enter the [Arch] Bishop of Canterburie [and attendant].

Warwicke
Here comes my lord of Canterburies grace.

Lancaster
His countenance bewraies he is displeasd.

Bishop
First were his sacred garments rent and torne,
Then laide they violent hands upon him, next
Himselfe imprisoned, and his goods asceasd,
This certifie the Pope, away, take horsse.
[Exit attendant.]

Lancaster
My lord, will you take armes against the king?

Bishop
What neede I, God himselfe is up in armes,
When violence is offered to the church.

Mortimer
Then wil you joine with us that be his peeres
To banish or behead that Gaveston?

Bishop
What els my lords, for it concernes me neere,
The Bishoprick of
Coventrie is his.
Enter the Queene.

Mortimer
Madam,
whether whither walks your majestie so fast?

Queen
Unto the forrest gentle Mortimer,
To live in greefe and balefull discontent,
For now my lord the king regardes me not,
But dotes upon the love of Gaveston.
He claps his cheekes, and hanges about his neck,
Smiles in his face, and whispers in his eares,
And when I come, he frownes, as who should say,
Go whether whither thou wilt seeing I have Gaveston.

Mortimer senior
Is it not straunge, that he is thus bewitcht?

Mortimer
Madam, returne unto the court againe:
That slie inveigling Frenchman weele exile,
Or lose our lives: and yet ere that day come,
The king shall lose his crowne, for we have power,
And courage to, to be revengde at full.

Bishop
But yet lift not your swords against the king.

Lancaster
No, but
weele lift Gaveston from hence.

Warwicke
And war must be the meanes, or heele stay stil.

Queene
Then let him stay, for rather then my lord
Shall be opprest by civill mutinies,
I wil endure a melancholie life,
And let him frollick with his minion.

Bishop
My lords, to eaze all this, but heare me speake.
We and the rest that are his counsellers,
Will meete, and with a generall consent,
Confirme his banishment with our handes and seales.

Lancaster
What we confirme the king will frustrate.

Mortimer
Then may we lawfully revolt from him.

Warwicke
But say my lord, where shall this meeting bee?

Bishop
At the new temple.

Mortimer
Content
.

Bishop
And in the meane time ile intreat you all,
To crosse to Lambeth, and there stay with me.

Lancaster
Come then lets away.

Mortimer
Madam farewell.

Queene
Farewell sweet Mortimer, and for my sake,
Forbeare to levie armes against the king.

Mortimer
I, if words will serve, if not, I must.
[Exeunt.]

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