Edward II

arrived for England’s good!
Nature, yield to my country’s cause in this!
A brother? no, a butcher of thy friends!
Proud Edward, dost thou banish me thy presence?
But I’ll to France, and cheer the wronged queen,
And certify what Edward’s looseness is.
Unnatural king, to slaughter nobleman
And cherish flatterers! Mortimer, I stay
Thy sweet escape. Stand gracious, gloomy night,
To his device. Enter the Younger Mortimer disguised. Younger Mortimer

Holla! who walketh there?
Is’t you, my lord?

Kent

Mortimer, ’tis I.
But hath thy portion wrought so happily?

Younger Mortimer

It hath, my lord: the warders all asleep,
I thank them, gave me leave to pass in peace.
But hath your grace got shipping unto France?

Kent Fear it not. Exeunt.

Scene II

Paris.

	Enter Queen Isabella and Prince Edward.
Queen Isabella	Ah, boy, our friends do fail us all in France! The lords are cruel, and the king unkind. What shall we do?
Prince Edward	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.
Queen Isabella	Ah, boy, thou art deceived, at least in this, To think that we can yet be tuned 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 John	Madam, what cheer?
Queen Isabella	Ah, good Sir John of Hainault, Never so cheerless nor so far distrest!
Sir John	I hear, sweet lady, of the king’s unkindness: But droop not, madam; noble 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?
Prince Edward	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 John	Well said, my lord!
Queen Isabella	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 shore of Tanais, Will we with thee to Hainault⁠—so we will: The marquis is a noble 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!
Queen Isabella	Lord Edmund and Lord Mortimer alive! Welcome to France! the news was here, my lord, That you were dead, or very near your death.
Younger Mortimer	Lady, the last was truest of the twain: But Mortimer, reserved for better hap, Hath shaken off the thraldom of the Tower, And lives to advance your standard, good my lord.
Prince Edward	How mean you, and the king my father lives? No, my Lord Mortimer, not I, I trow.
Queen Isabella	Not, son! Why not? I would it were no worse!⁠— But, gentle lords, friendless we are in France.
Younger Mortimer	Monsieur Le Grand, a noble friend of yours, Told us, at our arrival, all the news⁠— How hard the nobles, how unkind the king Hath showed 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, assure 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 reclaimed, For England’s honour, peace, and quietness!
Younger Mortimer	But by the sword, my lord, ’t must be deserved: The king will ne’er forsake his flatterers.
Sir John	My lords of England, sith the 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?
Prince Edward	I think King Edward will outrun us all.
Queen Isabella	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 woeful queen Bind us in kindness all at your command.
Queen Isabella	Yea, gentle brother:⁠—and the God of heaven Prosper your happy motion, good Sir John!
Younger Mortimer	This noble 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 nobles in distress Have been by thee restored and comforted.
Sir John	Madam, along; and you, my lords, with me, That England’s peers may Hainault’s welcome see.
	Exeunt.

Scene III

The Royal Palace, London.

	Enter King Edward, Arundel, the Elder Spenser, the Younger Spenser, and others.
King Edward	Thus, after many threats of wrathful war, Triumpheth England’s Edward with his friends, And triumph Edward with his friends uncontrolled!⁠— My Lord of Gloucester, do you hear the news?
Younger Spenser	What news, my lord?
King Edward	Why, man, they say there is great execution Done through the realm.⁠—My Lord of Arundel, You have the note, have you not?
Arundel	From the Lieutenant of the Tower, my lord.
King Edward	I pray, let us see it. Takes the note from Arundel. What have we there? Read it, Spenser. Gives the note to the Younger Spenser, who reads the names. Why, so: they barked apace a month ago; Now, on my life, they’ll neither bark nor bite. Now, sirs, the news from France? Gloucester, I trow, The lords of France love England’s gold so well As Isabella gets no aid from thence. What now remains? have you proclaimed, my lord, Reward for them can bring in Mortimer?
Younger Spenser	My lord, we have; and, if he be in England, ’A will be had ere long, I doubt it not.
King Edward	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!