43. Act the Fourth

Enter KING EDWARD, ARUNDEL, the Elder and Younger SPENCER, and others

K. Edw.Thus after many threats of wrathful war,Triumpheth England’s Edward with his friends;And triumph, Edward, with his friends uncontroll’d!My lord of Gloucester, do you hear the news?Y. Spen.What news, my lord?K. Edw.Why, man, they say there is great executionDone through the realm; my lord of Arundel,You have the note, have you not?Arun.From the Lieutenant of the Tower, my lord.K. Edw.I pray let us see it. [Takes the note.] What have we there?Read it, Spencer.[Hands the note to] Young SPENCER, [who] reads the names.Why, so; they bark’d apace a month ago:Now, on my life, they’ll neither bark nor bite.Now, sirs, the news from France? Gloucester, I trowThe lords of France love England’s gold so wellAs Isabella gets no aid from thence.What now remains? Have you proclaim’d, my lord,Reward for them can bring in Mortimer?Y. Spen.My lord, we have; and if he be in England,’A will be had ere long, I doubt it not.K. Edw.If, dost thou say? Spencer, as true as death,He is in England’s ground; our portmastersAre not so careless of their king’s command.

Enter a Messenger

How now, what news with thee? From whence come these?Mess.Letters, my lord, and tidings forth of France;—To you, my lord of Gloucester, from Levune.[Gives letters to Young SPENCER.]K. Edw.Read.Y. Spen.(reads).
“My duty to your honour premised, &c., I have, according to instructions in that behalf, dealt with the King of France his lords, and effected that the queen, all discontented and discomforted, is gone: whither, if your ask, with Sir John of Hainault, brother to the marquis, into Flanders. With them are gone Lord Edmund, and the Lord Mortimer, having in their company divers of your nation, and others; and, as constant report goeth, they intend to give King Edward battle in England, sooner than he can look for them. This is all the news of import.

Your honour’s in all service, LEVUNE.”

K. Edw.Ah, villains! hath that Mortimer escap’dWith him is Edmund gone associate?And will Sir John of Hainault lead the round?Welcome, a God’s name, madam, and your son;England shall welcome you and all your rout.Gallop apace, bright Phœbus, through the sky,And dusky night, in rusty iron car,Between you both shorten the time, I pray,That I may see that most desired dayWhen we may meet these traitors in the field.Ah, nothing grieves me, but my little boyIs thus misled to countenance their ills.Come, friends, to Bristow, there to make us strong;And, winds, as equal be to bring them in,As you injurious were to bear them forth![Exeunt.]

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