reast be sword-proof, he shall die.
_E. Mor._ How now! why droops the Earl of Lancaster?
_Y. Mor._ Wherefore is Guy of Warwick discontent?
_Lan._ That villain Gaveston is made an earl.
_E. Mor._ An earl!
_War._ Ay, and besides Lord-chamberlain of the realm,
And Secretary too, and Lord of Man.
_E. Mor._ We may not nor we will not suffer this.
_Y. Mor._ Why post we not from hence to levy men?
_Lan._ "My Lord of Cornwall" now at every word;
And happy is the man whom he vouchsafes,
For vailing of his bonnet, one good look.
Thus, arm in arm, the king and he doth march:
Nay, more, the guard upon his lordship waits,
And all the court begins to flatter him.
_War._ Thus leaning on the shoulder of the king,
He nods, and scorns, and smiles at those that pass.
_E. Mor._ Doth no man take exceptions at the slave?
_Lan._ All stomach him, but none dare speak a word.
_Y. Mor._ Ah, that bewrays their baseness, Lancaster!
Were all the earls and barons of my mind,
We'd hale him from the bosom of the king,
And at the court-gate hang the peasant up,
Who, swoln with venom of ambitious pride,
Will be the ruin of the realm and us.
_War._ Here comes my Lord of Canterbury's grace.
_Lan._ His countenance bewrays he is displeas'd.

_Enter the_ ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY, _and an_
Attendant.

_Archb. of Cant._ First, were his sacred garments rent and torn;
Then laid they violent hands upon him; next,
Himself imprison'd, and his goods asseiz'd:
This certify the Pope: away, take horse. [_Exit Attendant._
_Lan._ My lord, will you take arms against the king?
_Archb. of Cant._ What need I? God himself is up in arms
When violence is offer'd to the church.
_Y. Mor._ Then will you join with us, that be his peers,
To banish or behead that Gaveston?
_Archb. of Cant._ What else, my lords? for it concerns me near;
The bishoprick of Coventry is his.

_Enter_ QUEEN ISABELLA.

_Y. Mor._ Madam, whither walks your majesty so fast?
_Q. Isab._ Unto the forest, gentle Mortimer,
To live in grief and baleful discontent;
For now my lord the king regards me not,
But dotes upon the love of Gaveston:
He claps his cheeks, and hangs about his neck,
Smiles in his face, and whispers in his ears;
And, when I come, he frowns, as who should say,
"Go whither thou wilt, seeing I have Gaveston."
_E. Mor._ Is it not strange that he is thus