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_ ACT II - SCENE IV
Scene IV. Within Tynmouth Castle
[Enter, severally KING EDWARD and the younger SPENSER.]
K. Edw.
O, tell me, Spenser, where is Gaveston?
Y. Spen.
I fear me he is slain, my gracious lord.
K. Edw.
No, here he comes; now let them spoil and kill.
[Enter QUEEN ISABELLA, KING EDWARD'S Niece, GAVESTON, and Nobles.]
Fly, fly, my lords; the earls have got the hold;
Take shipping, and away to Scarborough:
Spenser and I will post away by land.
Gav.
O, stay, my lord! they will not injure you.
K. Edw.
I will not trust them. Gaveston, away!
Gav.
Farewell, my lord.
K. Edw.
Lady, farewell.
Niece.
Farewell, sweet uncle, till we meet again.
K. Edw.
Farewell, sweet Gaveston; and farewell, niece.
Q. Isab.
No farewell to poor Isabel thy queen?
K. Edw.
Yes, yes, for Mortimer your lover's sake.
Q. Isab.
Heavens can witness, I love none but you.
[ Exeunt all except Queen Isabella.]
From my embracements thus he breaks away.
O, that mine arms could close this isle about,
That I might pull him to me where I would!
Or that these tears, that drizzle from mine eyes,
Had power to mollify his stony heart,
That, when I had him, we might never part!
[ Enter LANCASTER, WARWICK, the younger MORTIMER, and others. Alarums within.]
Lan.
I wonder how he scap'd.
Y. Mor.
Who's this? the queen!
Q. Isab.
Ay, Mortimer, the miserable queen,
Whose pining heart her inward sighs have blasted,
And body with continual mourning wasted:
These hands are tir'd with haling of my lord
From Gaveston, from wicked Gaveston;
And all in vain; for, when I speak him fair,
He turns away, and smiles upon his minion.
Y. Mor.
Cease to lament, and tell us where's the king?
Q. Isab.
What would you with the king? is't him you seek?
Lan.
No, madam, but that cursed Gaveston:
Far be it from the thought of Lancaster
To offer violence to his sovereign!
We would but rid the realm of Gaveston:
Tell us where he remains, and he shall die.
Q. Isab.
He's gone by water unto Scarborough:
Pursue him quickly, and he cannot scape;
The king hath left him, and his train is small.
War.
Forslow no time, sweet Lancaster; let's march.
Y. Mor.
How comes it that the king and he is parted?
Q. Isab.
That thus your army, going several ways,
Might be of lesser force, and with the power
That he intendeth presently to raise,
Be easily suppress'd: therefore be gone.
Y. Mor.
Here in the river rides a Flemish hoy:
Let's all aboard, and follow him amain.
Lan.
The wind that bears him hence will fill our sails;
Come, come, aboard! 'tis but an hour's sailing.
Y. Mor.
Madam, stay you within this castle here.
Q. Isab.
No, Mortimer; I'll to my lord the king.
Y. Mor.
Nay, rather sail with us to Scarborough.
Q. Isab.
You know the king is so suspicious
As, if he hear I have but talk'd with you,
Mine honour will be call'd in question;
And therefore, gentle Mortimer, be gone.
Y. Mor.
Madam, I cannot stay to answer you:
But think of Mortimer as he deserves.
[ Exeunt all except Queen Isabella.]
Q. Isab.
So well hast thou deserv'd, sweet Mortimer,
As Isabel could live with thee for ever.
In vain I look for love at Edward's hand,
Whose eyes are fix'd on none but Gaveston.
Yet once more I'll importune him with prayer:
If he be strange, and not regard my words,
My son and I will over into France,
And to the king my brother there complain
How Gaveston hath robb'd me of his love:
But yet, I hope, my sorrows will have end,
And Gaveston this blessed day be slain.
[ Exit.] _
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