ye be men,
Speed to the king.

_Enter_ WARWICK _and_ Soldiers.

_War._ My Lord of Pembroke's men,
Strive you no longer: I will have that Gaveston.
_James._ Your lordship doth dishonour to yourself,
And wrong our lord, your honourable friend.
_War._ No, James, it is my country's cause I follow.--
Go, take the villain: soldiers, come away;
We'll make quick work.--Commend me to your master,
My friend, and tell him that I watch'd it well.--
Come, let thy shadow parley with King Edward.
_Gav._ Treacherous earl, shall I not see the king?
_War._ The king of heaven perhaps, no other king.--
Away! [_Exeunt Warwick and Soldiers with Gaveston._
_James._ Come, fellows: it booted not for us to strive:
We will in haste go certify our lord. [_Exeunt._

_Enter_ KING EDWARD, _the younger_ SPENSER, BALDOCK, Noblemen
_of the king's side, and_ Soldiers _with drums and fifes._

_K. Edw._ I long to hear an answer from the barons
Touching my friend, my dearest Gaveston.
Ah, Spenser, not the riches of my realm
Can ransom him! ah, he is mark'd to die!
I know the malice of the younger Mortimer;
Warwick I know is rough, and Lancaster
Inexorable; and I shall never see
My lovely Pierce of Gaveston again:
The barons overbear with me their pride.
_Y. Spen._ Were I King Edward, England's sovereign,
Son to the lovely Eleanor of Spain,
Great Edward Longshanks' issue, would I bear
These braves, this rage, and suffer uncontroll'd
These barons thus to beard me in my land,
In mine own realm? My lord, pardon my speech:
Did you retain your father's magnanimity,
Did you regard the honour of your name,
You would not suffer thus your majesty
Be counterbuff'd of your nobility.
Strike off their heads, and let them preach on poles:
No doubt, such lessons they will teach the rest,
As by their preachments they will profit much,
And learn obedience to their lawful king.
_K. Edw._ Yes, gentle Spenser, we have been too mild,
Too kind to them; but now have drawn our sword,
And, if they send me not my Gaveston,
We'll steel it on their crest[s], and poll their tops.
_Bald._ This haught resolve becomes your majesty,
Not to be tied to their affection,
As though your highness were a school-boy still,
And must be aw'd and govern'd like a child.

_Enter the elder_ SPENSER _with his truncheon,