How oft have I been baited by these peers, And dare not be reveng'd, for their power is great! Yet, shall the crowning of these cockerels Affright a lion? Edward, unfold thy paws, And let their lives'-blood slake thy fury's hunger. If I be cruel and grow tyrannous, Now let them thank themselves, and rue too late. _Kent._ My lord, I see your love to Gaveston Will be the ruin of the realm and you, For now the wrathful nobles threaten wars; And therefore, brother, banish him for ever. _K. Edw._ Art thou an enemy to my Gaveston? _Kent._ Ay; and it grieves me that I favour'd him. _K. Edw._ Traitor, be gone! whine thou with Mortimer. _Kent._ So will I, rather than with Gaveston. _K. Edw._ Out of my sight, and trouble me no more! _Kent._ No marvel though thou scorn thy noble peers, When I thy brother am rejected thus. _K. Edw._ Away! [_Exit Kent._ Poor Gaveston, thou hast no friend but me! Do what they can, we'll live in Tynmouth here; And, so I walk with him about the walls, What care I though the earls begirt us round? Here comes she that is cause of all these jars. _Enter_ QUEEN ISABELLA, _with_ EDWARD'S NIECE, _two_ Ladies, GAVESTON, BALDOCK, _and the younger_ SPENSER. _Q. Isab._ My lord, 'tis thought the earls are up in arms. _K. Edw._ Ay, and 'tis likewise thought you favour 'em. _Q. Isab._ Thus do you still suspect me without cause. _Niece._ Sweet uncle, speak more kindly to the queen. _Gav._ My lord, dissemble with her; speak her fair. _K. Edw._ Pardon me, sweet; I forgot myself. _Q. Isab._ Your pardon is quickly got of Isabel. _K. Edw._ The younger Mortimer is grown so brave, That to my face he threatens civil wars. _Gav._ Why do you not commit him to the Tower? _K. Edw._ I dare not, for the people love him well. _Gav._ Why, then, we'll have him privily made away. _K. Edw._ Would Lancaster and he had both carous'd A bowl of poison to each other's health! But let them go, and tell me what are these. _Niece._ Two of my father's servants whilst he liv'd: May't please your grace to entertain them now. _K. Edw._ Tell me, where wast thou born? what is thine arms? _Bald._ My name is Baldock, and my gentry I fetch from Oxford, not from heraldry. _K. Edw._ The fitter art thou, Baldock, for my turn. Wait on me, and I'll see thou shalt not want. _Bald._ I humbly thank your majesty. _K. Edw._ Knowest thou him, Gaveston. _Gav._ Ay, my lord; His name is Spenser; he is well allied: For my sake let him wait upon your grace; Scarce shall you find a man of more desert. _K. Edw._ Then, Spenser, wait upon me for his sake: I'll grace thee with a higher style ere long. _Y. Spen._ No greater titles happen unto me Than to be favour'd of your majesty! _K. Edw._ Cousin, this day shall be your marriage feast:-- And, Gaveston, think that I love thee well, To wed thee to our niece, the only heir