Sweet Mortimer, farewell!
Exeunt Warwick, Lancaster and Spencer the Father.
MORTIMER. England, unkind to thy nobility,
Groan for this grief, behold how thou art maimed!
EDWARD. Go, take that haughty Mortimer to the Tower;
There see him safe bestowed; and for the rest,
Do speedy execution on them all.
Be gone!
MORTIMER. What, Mortimer? Can ragged stony walls
Immure thy virtue that aspires to heaven?
No, Edward, England's scourge, it may not be;
Mortimer's hope surmounts his fortune far.
Exit Mortimer, guarded.
EDWARD. Sound drums and trumpets, march with me, my friends.
Edward this day hath crowned him King anew.
Exit, leaving Spencer, Levune and Baldock.
SPENCER. Levune, the trust that we repose in thee
Begets the quiet of King Edward's land.
Therefore be gone in haste, and with advice
Bestow that treasure on the lords of France,
That, therewith all enchanted, like the guard
That suffered Jove to pass in showers of gold
To Danae, all aid may be denied
To Isabel the Queen, that now in France
Makes friends, to cross the seas with her young son,
And step into his father's regiment.
LEVUNE. That's it these barons and the subtle Queen
Long leveled at.
BALDOCK. Yea, but, Levune, thou seest
These barons lay their heads on blocks together;
What they intend, the hangman frustrates clean.
LEVUNE. Have you no doubts, my lords, I'll clap so close
Among the lords of France with England's gold,
That Isabel shall make her plaints in vain,
And France shall be obdurate with her tears.
SPENCER. Then make for France amain; Levune, away!
Proclaim King Edward's wars and victories.
Exeunt.
ACT FOUR, SCENE ONE
KENT. Fair blows the wind for France: blow, gentle gale,
Till Edmund be 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 noblemen
And cherish flatterers. Mortimer, I stay
Thy sweet escape. Stand gracious gloomy night
To his device.
Enter Mortimer disguised.
MORTIMER. Holla, who walketh there?
Is't you my lord?
KENT. Ay, Mortimer, 'tis I.
But hath thy potion wrought so happily?
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.
ACT FOUR, SCENE TWO
Enter the Queen and Prince Edward.
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 Spencers.
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?
ISABELLA. Ah, good Sir John of Hainault,
Never so cheerless nor so far distressed!
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 sorrows equally?
PRINCE EDWARD. So pleaseth the Queen my mother, me it likes.
The King of England, nor 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 Spencer's head.
SIR JOHN.