And see how coldly his looks make denial!
WARWICK. She smiles: now, for my life, his mind is changed!
LANCASTER. I'll rather lose his friendship, I, than grant.
MORTIMER. Well, of necessity it must be so.
My lords, that I abhor base Gaveston
I hope your honours make no question,
And therefore, though I plead for his repeal,
'Tis not for his sake, but for our avail;
Nay, for the realm's behoof, and for the King's.
LANCASTER. Fie, Mortimer, dishonour not thyself!
Can this be true, 'twas good to banish him?
And is this true, to call him home again?
Such reasons make white black, and dark night day.
MORTIMER. My lord of Lancaster, mark the respect.
LANCASTER. In no respect can contraries be true.
ISABELLA. Yet, good my lord, hear what he can allege.
WARWICK. All that he speaks is nothing; we are resolved.
MORTIMER. Do you not wish that Gaveston were dead?
PEMBROKE. I would he were!
MORTIMER. Why then, my lord, give me but leave to speak.
MORTIMER SENIOR. But, nephew, do not play the sophister.
MORTIMER. This which I urge is of a burning zeal
To mend the King and do our country good.
Know you not Gaveston hath store of gold,
Which may in Ireland purchase him such friends
As he will front the mightiest of us all?
And whereas he shall live and be beloved,
'Tis hard for us to work his overthrow.
WARWICK. Mark you but that, my lord of Lancaster.
MORTIMER. But, were he here, detested as he is,
How easily might some base slave be suborned
To greet his lordship with a poniard;
And none so much as blame the murderer,
But rather praise him for that brave attempt,
And in the chronicle enroll his name
For purging of the realm of such a plague!
PEMBROKE. He saith true.
LANCASTER. Ay, but how chance this was not done before?
MORTIMER. Because, my lords, it was not thought upon;
Nay, more, when he shall know it lies in us
To banish him, and then to call him home,
'Twill make him vail the top flag of his pride,
And fear to offend the meanest nobleman.
MORTIMER SENIOR. But how if he do not, nephew?
MORTIMER. Then may we with some colour rise in arms;
For, howsoever we have borne it out,
'Tis treason to be up against the King.
So shall we have the people of our side,
Which, for his father's sake lean to the King,
But cannot brook a night-grown mushrump,
Such a one as my lord of Cornwall is,
Should bear us down of the nobility.
And, when the commons and the nobles join,
'Tis not the King can buckler Gaveston.
We'll pull him from the strongest hold he hath.
My lords, if to perform this I be slack,
Think me as base a groom as Gaveston.
LANCASTER. On that condition Lancaster will grant.
PEMBROKE. And so will Pembroke.
WARWICK. And I.
MORTIMER SENIOR. And I.
MORTIMER. In this I count me highly gratified,
And Mortimer will rest at your command.
ISABELLA. And when this favour Isabel forgets,
Then let her live abandoned and forlorn.
But see, in happy time, my lord the King,
Having brought the Earl of Cornwall on his way,
Is new returned. This news will glad him much:
Yet not so much as me. I love him more
Than he can Gaveston: would he loved me
But half so much! Then were I treble blest.
Enter King Edward, mourning, with Beaumont.
EDWARD. He's gone, and for his absence thus I mourn.
Did never sorrow go so near my heart
As doth the want of my sweet Gaveston?
And, could my crown's revenue bring him back,
I would freely give it to his enemies,
And think I gained, having bought so dear a friend.
ISABELLA. Hark, how he harps upon his minion!
EDWARD. My heart is as an anvil unto sorrow,
Which beats upon it like the Cyclops' hammers,
And with the noise turns up my giddy brain,
And makes me frantic for my Gaveston.
Ah, had some bloodless Fury rose from hell,
And with my kingly sceptre struck me dead,
When I was forced to leave my Gaveston!
LANCASTER.