Edw.
S. George for England, and King Edwards right.
Enter Edward, with the Barons captives.
Edw.
Now lusty Lords, now not by chance of warre,
But justice of the quarrell and the cause
Vaild is your pride, me thinkes you hang the heads,
But weele advance them Traytos, now tis time
To be aveng'd on you for all your braves,
And for the murther of my deerest friend,
To whom right well you knew our soule was knit,
Good Pierce of Gaveston my sweet favorit,
Ah Rebels, Recreants, you made him away.
Edm.
Brother, in regard of thee and of thy Land,
Did they remove that Flatterer from thy Throne.
Edw.
So sir, you have spoke, away, avoid our presence,
Accursed wretches, wast in regard of us,
When we had sent our Messenger to request
He might be spar'd to come to speake with us,
And Penbrooke undertooke for his returne,
That thou proud Warwicke watcht the prisoner,
Poore Peirce, and headed him 'gainst law of armes,
For which thy head shall overlooke the rest,
As much as thou in rage out went'st the rest.
War.
Tyrant, I scorne thy threats and menaces,
Tis but temporall that thou canst inflict.
Lan.
The worst is death, and better dye to live,
Then live in infamy under such a King.
Edw.
Away with them: my Lord of Winchester,
These lusty Leaders Warwicke and Lancaster,
I charge you roundly off with both their heads, away.
War.
Farewell vaine world.
Lan.
Sweete Mortimer farewell.
Mor..
England unkinde to thy Nobility,
Grone for this griefe, behold how thou art maimed.
Edw.
Goe take that haughty Mortimer to the Tower,
There see him safe bestowed and for the rest,
Doe speedy execution on them all, be gone.
Mor.
What Mortimer? can ragged stony walles
Immure thy vertue that aspires to Heaven,
No Edward Englands scourge, it may not be,
Mor-
