Edward II

what news with thee? from whence come these? Messenger

Letters, my lord, and tidings forth of France:
To you, my Lord of Gloucester, from Levune. Gives letters to the Younger Spenser.

King Edward Read. Younger Spenser

Reading.

“My duty to your honour promised, etc., I have, according to instructions in that behalf, dealt with the King of France and his lords, and effected that the queen, all discontented and discomforted, is gone: whither, if you ask, with Sir John of Hainault, brother to the marquis, into Flanders. With them are gone Lord Edmund and the Lord Mortimer, having in their company divers of your nation, and others; and, as constant report goeth, they intend to give King Edward battle in England, sooner than he can look for them. This is all the news of import.

Your honour’s in all service, Levune.”

King Edward

Ah, villains, hath that Mortimer escaped?
With him is Edmund gone associate?
And will Sir John of Hainault lead the round?
Welcome, o’ God’s name, madam, and your son!
England shall welcome you and all your rout.
Gallop apace, bright Phbus, through the sky;
And, dusky Night, in rusty iron car,
Between you both shorten the time, I pray,
That I may see that most desired day,
When we may meet these traitors in the field!
Ah, nothing grieves me, but my little boy
Is thus misled to countenance their ills!
Come, friends, to Bristow, there to make us strong:
And, winds, as equal be to bring them in,
As you injurious were to bear them forth!

Exeunt.

Scene IV

Near Harwich.

	Enter Queen Isabella, Prince Edward, Kent, the Younger Mortimer, and Sir John of Hainault.
Queen Isabella	Now, lords, our loving friends and countrymen, Welcome to England all, with prosperous winds! Our kindest friends in Belgia have we left, To cope with friends at home; a heavy case When force to force is knit, and sword and glaive In civil broils make kin and countrymen Slaughter themselves in others, and their sides With their own weapons gored! But what’s the help? Misgoverned kings are cause of all this wreck; And, Edward, thou art one among them all, Whose looseness hath betrayed thy land to spoil, Who made the channel overflow with blood Of thine own people: patron shouldst thou be; But thou⁠—
Younger Mortimer	Nay, madam, if you be a warrior, You must not grow so passionate in speeches.⁠— Lords, sith that we are, by sufferance of heaven, Arrived and armed in this prince’s right, Here for our country’s cause swear we to him All homage, fealty, and forwardness; And for the open wrongs and injuries Edward hath done to us, his queen, and land, We come in arms to wreck it with the sword; That England’s queen in peace may repossess Her dignities and honours; and withal We may remove these flatterers from the king That havoc England’s wealth and treasury.
Sir John	Sound trumpets, my lord, and forward let us march. Edward will think we come to flatter him.
Kent	I would he never had been flattered more!
	Exeunt.

Scene V

Near Bristol.

	Enter King Edward, Baldock, and the Younger Spenser.
Younger Spenser	Fly, fly, my lord! the queen is overstrong; Her friends do multiply, and yours do fail. Shape we our course to Ireland, there to breathe.
King Edward	What! was I born to fly and run away, And leave the Mortimers conquerors behind? Give me my horse, and let’s reinforce our troops. And in this bed of honour die with fame.
Baldock	O, no, my lord! this princely resolution Fits not the time: away! we are pursued.
	Exeunt.
	Enter Kent, with a sword and target.
Kent	This way he fled, but I am come too late. Edward, alas, my heart relents for thee! Proud traitor, Mortimer, why dost thou chase Thy lawful king, thy sovereign, with thy sword? Vile wretch, and why hast thou, of all unkind, Borne arms against thy brother and thy king? Rain showers of vengeance on my cursed head, Thou God, to whom in justice it belongs To punish this unnatural revolt! Edward, this Mortimer aims at thy life! O, fly him, then! But, Edmund, calm this rage; Dissemble, or thou diest; for Mortimer And Isabel do kiss, while they conspire: And yet she bears a face of love, forsooth. Fie on that love that hatcheth death and hate! Edmund, away! Bristow to Longshanks’ blood Is false; be not found single for suspect: Proud Mortimer pries near into thy walks.
	Enter Queen Isabella, Prince Edward, the Younger Mortimer, and Sir John of Hainault.
Queen Isabella	Successful battle gives the God of kings To them that fight in right, and fear in wrath, Since, then, successfully we have prevailed, Thanked be heaven’s great architect, and you! Ere farther we proceed, my noble lords, We here create our well-beloved son, Of love and care unto his royal person, Lord Warden of the realm; and, sith the Fates Have made his father so infortunate, Deal you, my lords, in this, my loving lords, As to your wisdoms fittest seems in all.
Kent	Madam, without offence if I may ask How will you deal with Edward in his fall?
Prince Edward	Tell me, good uncle, what Edward do you mean?
Kent	Nephew, your father; I dare not call him king.
Younger Mortimer	My Lord of Kent, what needs these questions? ’Tis not in her controlment nor in ours; But as the realm and parliament shall please, So shall your brother be disposed of.⁠— Aside to the Queen. I like not this relenting mood in Edmund: Madam, ’tis good to look to him betimes.
Queen Isabella	My lord, the Mayor of Bristow knows our mind.
Younger Mortimer	Yea, madam; and they scape not easily That fled the field.
Queen Isabella	Baldock is with the king: A goodly chancellor, is he not, my lord?
Sir John	So are the Spensers, the father and the son.
Younger Mortimer	This Edward is the ruin of the realm.
	Enter Rice ap Howel with the Elder Spenser prisoner, and Attendants.
Rice ap Howel	God save Queen Isabel and her princely son! Madam, the Mayor and citizens of Bristow, In sign of love and duty to this presence, Present by me this traitor to the state, Spenser, the father to that wanton Spenser, That, like the lawless Catiline of Rome, Revelled in England’s wealth and treasury.
Queen Isabella	We thank you all.
Younger Mortimer