Act 5 — [Scene V.][663]

Gav. Yet, lusty lords, I have escap’d your hands, Your threats, your ’larums, and your hot pursuits; And though divorced from King Edward’s eyes, Yet liveth Pierce of Gaveston unsurpris’d,[664] Breathing, in hope (malgrado[665] all your beards,5 That muster rebels thus against your king), To see his royal sovereign once again.

War. Upon him, soldiers, take away his weapons. Y. Mor. Thou proud disturber of thy country’s peace, Corrupter of thy king, cause of these broils,10 Base flatterer, yield! and were it not for shame, Shame and dishonour to a soldier’s name, Upon my weapon’s point here shouldst thou fall, And welter in thy gore. Lan. Monster of men! That, like the Greekish strumpet,[666] train’d[667] to arms15 And bloody wars so many valiant knights; Look for no other fortune, wretch, than death! King Edward is not here to buckler thee. War. Lancaster, why talk’st thou to the slave?19 Go, soldiers, take him hence, for, by my sword, His head shall off. Gaveston, short warning Shall serve thy turn; it is our country’s cause That here severely we will execute Upon thy person. Hang him at a bough.24 Gav. My lord!— War. Soldiers, have him away;— But for thou wert the favourite of a king, Thou shalt have so much honour at our hands— Gav. I thank you all, my lords: then I perceive, That heading is one, and hanging is the other, And death is all.30

Lan. How now, my lord of Arundel? Arun. My lords, King Edward greets you all by me. War. Arundel, say your message. Arun. His majesty, Hearing that you had taken Gaveston, Entreateth you by me, yet but he may35 See him before he dies; for why, he says, And sends you word, he knows that die he shall; And if you gratify his grace so far, He will be mindful of the courtesy.39 War. How now? Gav. Renowmed Edward, how thy name Revives poor Gaveston! War. No, it needeth not; Arundel, we will gratify the king In other matters; he must pardon us in this. Soldiers, away with him! Gav. Why, my lord of Warwick, Will not these delays beget my hopes?45 I know it, lords, it is this life you aim at, Yet grant King Edward this. Y. Mor. Shalt thou appoint What we shall grant? Soldiers, away with him! Thus we’ll gratify the king: We’ll send his head by thee; let him bestow50 His tears on that, for that is all he gets Of Gaveston, or else his senseless trunk. Lan. Not so, my lords, lest he bestow more cost In burying him than he hath ever earn’d. Arun. My lords, it is his majesty’s request,55 And in the honour of a king he swears, He will but talk with him, and send him back. War. When? can you tell? Arundel, no; we wot He that the care of his realm remits, And drives his nobles to these exigents[668]60 For Gaveston, will, if he sees[669] him once, Violate any promises to possess him. Arun. Then if you will not trust his grace in keep, My lords, I will be pledge for his return.64 Y. Mor. ’T is honourable in thee to offer this; But for we know thou art a noble gentleman, We will not wrong thee so, to make away A true man for a thief. Gav. How mean’st thou, Mortimer? That is over-base. Y. Mor. Away, base groom, robber of king’s renown!70 Question with thy companions and thy mates. Pem. My Lord Mortimer, and you, my lords, each one, To gratify the king’s request therein, Touching the sending of this Gaveston, Because his majesty so earnestly75 Desires to see the man before his death, I will upon mine honour undertake To carry him, and bring him back again; Provided this, that you my lord of Arundel79 Will join with me. War. Pembroke, what wilt thou do? Cause yet more bloodshed? Is it not enough That we have taken him, but must we now Leave him on “had I wist,”[670] and let him go? Pem. My lords, I will not over-woo your honours, But if you dare trust Pembroke with the prisoner,85 Upon mine oath, I will return him back. Arun. My lord of Lancaster, what say you in this? Lan. Why, I say, let him go on Pembroke’s word. Pem. And you, Lord Mortimer?89 Y. Mor. How say you, my lord of Warwick? War. Nay, do your pleasures, I know how ’t will prove. Pem. Then give him me. Gav. Sweet sovereign, yet I come To see thee ere I die. War. Yet not perhaps, If Warwick’s wit and policy prevail. [Aside.] Y. Mor. My lord of Pembroke, we deliver him you;95 Return him on your honour. Sound, away!

Pem. My lord [Arundel,] you shall go with me. My house is not far hence; out of the way A little, but our men shall go along. We that have pretty wenches to our wives,100 Sir, must not come so near and baulk their lips. Arun. ’T is very kindly spoke, my lord of Pembroke; Your honour hath an adamant of power To draw a prince. Pem. So, my lord. Come hither, James: I do commit this Gaveston to thee,105 Be thou this night his keeper; in the morning We will discharge thee of thy charge. Be gone. Gav. Unhappy Gaveston, whither goest thou now? Exit with [James and the other] Attendants. Horse-boy. My lord, we’ll quickly be at Cobham. Exeunt.