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Act Two, Scene One

Enter Spencer and Balduck.

Seeing that our Lord th'earle of Glosters dead,
Which of the nobles dost thou meane to serve?

Not Mortimer, nor any of his side,
Because the king and he are enemies.
Baldock: learne this of me, a factious lord
Shall hardly do himselfe good, much lesse us,
But he that hath the favour of a king,
May with one word, advaunce us while we live:
The liberall earle of Cornewall is the man,
On whose good fortune Spencers hope depends.

What, meane you then to be his follower?

No, his companion, for he loves me well,
And would have once preferd me to the king.

But he is banisht, theres small hope of him.

I for a while, but Baldock marke the end,
A friend of mine told me in secrecie,
That hees repeald, and sent for back againe,
And even now, a poast came from the court,
With letters to our ladie from the King,
And as she red, she smild, which makes me thinke,
It is about her lover Gaveston.

Tis like enough, for since he was exild,
She neither walkes abroad, nor comes in sight:
But I had thought the match had beene broke off,
And that his banishment had changd her minde.

Our Ladies first love is not wavering,
My life for thine she will have Gaveston.

Then hope I by her meanes to be preferd,
Having read unto her since she was a childe.

Then Balduck, you must cast the scholler off,
And learne to court it like a Gentleman,
Tis not a black coate and a little band,
A Velvet cap'de cloake, fac'st before with Serge,
And smelling to a Nosegay all the day,
Or holding of a napkin in your hand,
Or saying a long grace at a tables end,
Or making lowe legs to a noble man,
Or looking downeward, with your eye lids close,
And saying, trulie ant may please your honor,
Can get you any favour with great men.
You must be proud, bold, pleasant, resolute,
And now and then, stab as occasion serves.

Spencer, thou knowest I hate such formall toies,
And use them but of meere hypocrisie.
Mine old lord whiles he livde, was so precise,
That he would take exceptions at my buttons,
And being like pins heads, blame me for the bignesse,
Which made me curate-like in mine attire,
Though inwardly licentious enough,
And apt for any kinde of villanie.
I am none of these common pedants I,
That cannot speake without propterea quod.

But one of those that saith quandoquidem,
And hath a speciall gift to forme a verbe.

Leave of this jesting, here my lady comes.
Enter the Ladie (Neece to the king).

The greefe for his exile was not so much,
As is the joy of his returning home.
This letter came from my sweete Gaveston,
What needst thou, love, thus to excuse thy selfe?
I know thou couldst not come and visit me.
“I will not long be from thee though I die:”
This argues the entire love of my Lord.
“When I forsake thee, death seaze on my heart,”
But rest stay Q3-4, Dd2- thee here where Gaveston shall sleepe
Now to the letter of my Lord the King,
He wils me to repaire unto the court,
And meete my Gaveston why do I stay,
Seeing that he talkes thus of my mariage day?
Whose there, Balduck?
See that my coache be readie, I must hence.

It shall be done madam.

And meete me at the parke pale presentlie:
Exit [Baldock].
Spencer, stay you and beare me companie,
For I have joyfull newes to tell thee of;
My lord of Cornewall is a comming over,
And will be at the court as soone as we.

I knew the King would have him home againe.

If all things sort out, as I hope they will,
Thy service Spencer shalbe thought upon.

I humbly thanke your Ladieship.

Come lead the way, I long till I am there.

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