Mor.ju.
Thou Villaine, wherfore talkes thou of a king,
That hardly art a Gentleman by birth?
Edw.
Were he a Peasant being my Minion,
Ile make the proudest of you stoope to him.
Lan.
My Lord you may not thus disparage us.
Away I say with hatefull Gavestone.
Mor.se.
And with the Earle of Kent that favors him.
Edw.
Nay then lay violent hands upon your King,
Here Mortimer, sit thou in Edwards throne,
Warwicke and Lancaster, weare you my Crowne,
Was ever King thus over-rul'd as I?
Lan.
Learne then to rule us better and the realme.
Mor.ju.
What we have done,
Our heart blood shall maintaine.
War.
Think you that we can brooke this upstart pride?
Edw.
Anger and wrathfull fury stops my speech.
Bish.
Why are you mov'd, be patient my Lord,
And see what we your Councellors have done.
Mor.ju.
My Lords, now let us all be resolute,
And either have our wils or lose our lives.
Edw.
Meete you for this, proud over-daring Peeres.
Ere my sweete Gaveston shall part from me,
This Ile shall fleete upon the Ocean,
And wander to the unfrequented Inde.
Bish.
You know that I am Legate to the Pope,
On your allegeance to the Sea of Rome,
Subscribe as we have done to his exile:
Mor.ju.
Curse him, if he refuse, and then may we
Depose him and elect another King.
Edw.
I there it goes, but yet I will not yeeld,
Curse me, depose me, do the worst you can.
Lan.
Then linger not my Lord but do it straight.
Bish.
Remember how the Bishop was abus'd,
Either banish him that was the cause thereof,
Or I will presently discharge these Lords,
Of duety and alleageance due to thee,
Edw.
It bootes me not to threat, I must speake faire,
The Legate of the Pope will be obeyd:
My
