dness makes thy mother fear
Thou art not mark'd to many days on earth!
_K. Edw._ Madam, we will that you with speed be shipp'd,
And this our son; Levune shall follow you
With all the haste we can despatch him hence.
Choose of our lords to bear you company;
And go in peace; leave us in wars at home.
_Q. Isab._ Unnatural wars, where subjects brave their king:
God end them once!--My lord, I take my leave,
To make my preparation for France. [_Exit with Prince Edward._

_Enter_ ARUNDEL.

_K. Edw._ What, Lord Arundel, dost thou come alone?
_Arun._ Yea, my good lord, for Gaveston is dead.
_K. Edw._ Ah, traitors, have they put my friend to death?
Tell me, Arundel, died he ere thou cam'st,
Or didst thou see my friend to take his death?
_Arun._ Neither, my lord; for, as he was surpris'd,
Begirt with weapons and with enemies round,
I did your highness' message to them all,
Demanding him of them, entreating rather,
And said, upon the honour of my name,
That I would undertake to carry him
Unto your highness, and to bring him back.
_K. Edw._ And, tell me, would the rebels deny me that?
_Y. Spen._ Proud recreants!
_K. Edw._ Yea, Spenser, traitors all!
_Arun._ In found them at the first inexorable;
The Earl of Warwick would not bide the hearing,
Mortimer hardly; Pembroke and Lancaster
Spake least; and when they flatly had denied,
Refusing to receive me pledge for him,
The Earl of Pembroke mildly thus bespake;
"My lord, because our sovereign sends for him,
And promiseth he shall be safe return'd,
I will this undertake, to have him hence,
And see him re-deliver'd to your hands."
_K. Edw._ Well, and how fortunes [it] that he came not?
_Y. Spen._ Some treason or some villany was cause.
_Arun._ The Earl of Warwick seiz'd him on his way;
For, being deliver'd unto Pembroke's men,
Their lord rode home, thinking his prisoner safe;
But, ere he came, Warwick in ambush lay,
And bare him to his death; and in a trench
Strake off his head, and march'd unto the camp.
_Y. Spen._ A bloody part, flatly 'gainst law of arms!
_K. Edw._ O, shall I speak, or shall I sigh and die!
_Y. Spen._ My lord, refer your vengeance to the sword
Upon these barons; hearten up your men;
Let them not unreveng'd murder your friends:
Advance your standard, Edward, in the field,
And march to fire them from their starting-holes.
_K. Edw._