_Gav._ My lord, I hear it whisper'd everywhere, That I am banish'd and must fly the land. _K. Edw._ 'Tis true, sweet Gaveston: O were it false! The legate of the Pope will have it so, And thou must hence, or I shall be depos'd. But I will reign to be reveng'd of them; And therefore, sweet friend, take it patiently. Live where thou wilt, I'll send thee gold enough; And long thou shalt not stay; or, if thou dost, I'll come to thee; my love shall ne'er decline. _Gav._ Is all my hope turn'd to this hell of grief? _K. Edw._ Rend not my heart with thy too-piercing words: Thou from this land, I from myself am banish'd. _Gav._ To go from hence grieves not poor Gaveston; But to forsake you, in whose gracious looks The blessedness of Gaveston remains; For nowhere else seeks he felicity. _K. Edw._ And only this torments my wretched soul, That, whether I will or no, thou must depart. Be governor of Ireland in my stead, And there abide till fortune call thee home. Here, take my picture, and let me wear thine: [_They exchange pictures._ O, might I keep thee here, as I do this, Happy were I! but now most miserable. _Gav._ 'Tis something to be pitied of a king. _K. Edw._ Thou shalt not hence; I'll hide thee, Gaveston. _Gav._ I shall be found, and then 'twill grieve me more. _K. Edw._ Kind words and mutual talk makes our grief greater: Therefore, with dumb embracement, let us part, Stay, Gaveston; I cannot leave thee thus. _Gav._ For every look, my love drops down a tear: Seeing I must go, do not renew my sorrow. _K. Edw._ The time is little that thou hast to stay, And, therefore, give me leave to look my fill. But, come, sweet friend; I'll bear thee on thy way. _Gav._ The peers will frown. _K. Edw._ I pass not for their anger. Come, let's go: O, that we might as well return as go! _Enter_ QUEEN ISABELLA.