Take him away; he prates.
Exit Spencer the Father, guarded.
You, Rice ap Howell,
Shall do good service to her majesty,
Being of countenance in your country here,
To follow these rebellious runagates.
We in meanwhile, madam, must take advice,
How Baldock, Spencer, and their 'complices,
May in their fall be followed to their end.
Exeunt.
ACT FOUR, SCENE SIX
Enter the Abbot, Monks, Edward, Spencer and Baldock.
ABBOTT. Have you no doubt, my lord; have you no fear.
As silent and as careful will we 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.
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, Spencer, Baldock, come, sit down by me;
Make trial now of that philosophy
That in our famous nurseries of arts
Thou sucked'st 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.
MONK. Your grace may sit secure, if none but we
Do wot of your abode.
SPENCER. 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 sore tempests driven
To fall on shore, and here to pine in fear
Of Mortimer and his confederates.
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 open these eyes again,
Never again lift up this drooping head,
O, nevermore lift up this dying heart!
SPENCER. Look up, my lord. Baldock, this drowsiness
Betides no good; here even we are betrayed.
Enter, with welsh hooks, Rice ap Howell, a Mower, and the Earl of Leicester.
MOWER. Upon my life, those be the men ye seek.
RICE AP HOWELL. 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
T' escape their hands that seek to reave his life.
Too true it is, quem dies vidit veniens superbum,
Hunc dies vidit fugiens jacentem.
(Seneca: 'He whom the dawning day has seen exalted in his pride, the departing day has seen downfallen')
But, Leicester, leave to grow so passionate.
Spencer and Baldock, by no other names,
I arrest you of high treason here.
Stand not on titles, but obey th' arrest:
'Tis in the name of Isabel the Queen.
My lord, why droop you thus?
EDWARD. O day, the last of all my bliss on earth,
Center 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 HOWELL. Away with them!
SPENCER. It may become thee yet
To let us take our farewell of his grace.
ABBOTT.