Edward II

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Your loving care in this
Deserveth princely favours and rewards.
But where’s the king and the other Spenser fled?

Rice ap Howel

Spenser the son, created Earl of Gloucester,
Is with that smooth-tongued scholar Baldock gone,
And shipped but late for Ireland with the king.

Younger Mortimer

Aside. Some whirlwind fetch them back, or sink them all!⁠—
They shall be started thence, I doubt it not.

Prince Edward Shall I not see the king my father yet? Kent Aside. Unhappy Edward, chased from England’s bounds! Sir John Madam, what resteth? why stand you in a muse? Queen Isabella

I rue my lord’s ill-fortune: but, alas,
Care of my country called me to this war!

Younger Mortimer

Madam, have done with care and sad complaint:
Your king hath wronged your country and himself,
And we must seek to right it as we may.⁠—
Meanwhile have hence this rebel to the block.

Elder Spenser

Rebel is he that fights against the prince:
So fought not they that fought in Edward’s right.

Younger Mortimer Take him away; he prates. Exeunt Attendants with the Elder Spenser.

You, Rice ap Howel,
Shall do good service to her majesty,
Being of countenance in your country here,
To follow these rebellious runagates.⁠—
We in mean while, madam, must take advice.
How Baldock, Spenser, and their complices,
May in their fall be followed to their end.

Exeunt.

Scene VI

The Abbey of Neath, Glamorganshire.

	Enter the Abbot, Monks, King Edward, the Younger Spenser, and Baldock, the latter three disguised.
Abbot	Have you no doubt, my lord; have you no fear: As silent and as careful we will be To keep your royal person safe with us, Free from suspect, and fell invasion Of such as have your majesty in chase, Yourself, and those your chosen company, As danger of this stormy time requires.
King Edward	Father, thy face should harbour no deceit. O, hadst thou ever been a king, thy heart, Pierced deeply with sense of my distress, Could not but take compassion of my state! Stately and proud in riches and in train, Whilom I was, powerful and full of pomp: But what is he whom rule and empery Have not in life or death made miserable?⁠— Come, Spenser⁠—come, Baldock⁠—come, sit down by me; Make trial now of that philosophy That in our famous nurseries of arts Thou suckedst from Plato and from Aristotle.⁠— Father, this life contemplative is heaven: O, that I might this life in quiet lead! But we, alas, are chased!⁠—and you, my friends, Your lives and my dishonour they pursue.⁠— Yet, gentle monks, for treasure, gold, nor fee, Do you betray us and our company.
First Monk	Your grace may sit secure, if none but we Do wot of your abode.
Younger Spenser	Not one alive: but shrewdly I suspect A gloomy fellow in a mead below; ’A gave a long look after us, my lord; And all the land, I know, is up in arms, Arms that pursue our lives with deadly hate.
Baldock	We were embarked for Ireland; wretched we, With awkward winds and with sore tempests driven, To fall on shore, and here to pine in fear Of Mortimer and his confederates!
King Edward	Mortimer! who talks of Mortimer? Who wounds me with the name of Mortimer, That bloody man?⁠—Good father, on thy lap Lay I this head, laden with mickle care. O, might I never ope these eyes again! Never again lift up this drooping head! O, never more lift up this dying heart!
Younger Spenser	Look up, my lord.⁠—Baldock, this drowsiness Betides no good; here even we are betrayed.
	Enter, with Welsh hooks, Rice ap Howel, a Mower, and Leicester.
Mower	Upon my life, these be the men ye seek.
Rice ap Howel	Fellow, enough.⁠—My lord, I pray, be short; A fair commission warrants what we do.
Leicester	The queen’s commission, urged by Mortimer: What cannot gallant Mortimer with the queen?⁠— Alas, see where he sits, and hopes unseen To escape their hands that seek to reave his life! Too true it is, Quem dies vidit veniens superbum, Hunc dies vidit fugiens jacentem. But, Leicester, leave to grow so passionate.⁠— Spenser and Baldock, by no other names, I arrest you of high treason here. Stand not on titles, but obey the arrest: ’Tis in the name of Isabel the queen.⁠— My lord, why droop you thus?
King Edward	O day, the last of all my bliss on earth! Centre of all misfortune! O my stars, Why do you lour unkindly on a king? Comes Leicester, then, in Isabella’s name, To take my life, my company from me? Here, man, rip up this panting breast of mine, And take my heart in rescue of my friends.
Rice ap Howel	Away with them!
Younger Spenser	It may become thee yet To let us take our farewell of his grace.
Abbott	Aside. My heart with pity earns to see this sight; A king to bear these words and proud commands!
King Edward	Spenser, ah, sweet Spenser, thus, then, must we part?
Younger Spenser	We must, my lord; so will the angry heavens.
King Edward	Nay, so will hell and cruel Mortimer: The gentle heavens have not to do in this.
Baldock	My lord, it is in vain to grieve or storm. Here humbly of your grace we take our leaves: Our lots are cast; I fear me, so is thine.
King Edward	In heaven we may, in earth ne’er shall we meet:⁠— And, Leicester, say, what shall become of us?
Leicester	Your majesty must go to Killingworth.
King Edward	Must! it is somewhat hard when kings must go.
Leicester	Here is a litter ready for your grace, That waits your pleasure, and the day grows old.
Rice ap Howel	As good be gone, as stay and be benighted.
King Edward	A litter hast thou? lay me in a hearse, And to the gates of hell convey me hence; Let Pluto’s bells ring out my fatal knell, And hags howl for my death at Charon’s shore; For friends hath Edward none but these, And these must die under a tyrant’s sword.
Rice ap Howel	My lord, be going: care not for these; For we shall see them shorter by the heads.
King Edward	Well, that shall be shall be: part we must; Sweet Spenser, gentle Baldock, part we must.⁠— Hence, feigned weeds! unfeigned are my woes; Throwing off his disguise. Father, farewell.⁠—Leicester, thou stay’st for me; And go I must.⁠—Life, farewell, with my