_Gav._ I can no longer keep me from my lord. [_Comes forward._ _Edw._ What, Gaveston! welcome.--Kiss not my hand-- Embrace me, Gaveston, as I do thee. 140 Why should'st thou kneel? know'st thou not who I am? Thy friend, thyself, another Gaveston! Not Hylas was more mourned of[178] Hercules, Than thou hast been of me since thy exile. _Gav._ And since I went from hence, no soul in hell Hath felt more torment than poor Gaveston. _Edw._ I know it.--Brother, welcome home my friend. Now let the treacherous Mortimers conspire, And that high-minded Earl of Lancaster: I have my wish, in that I joy thy sight; 150 And sooner shall the sea o'erwhelm my land, Than bear the ship that shall transport thee hence. I here create thee Lord High Chamberlain, Chief Secretary to the state and me, Earl of Cornwall, King and Lord of Man. _Gav._ My lord, these titles far exceed my worth. _Kent._ Brother, the least of these may well suffice For one of greater birth than Gaveston. _Edw._ Cease, brother: for I cannot brook these words. Thy worth, sweet friend, is far above my gifts, 160 Therefore, to equal it, receive my heart; If for these dignities thou be envied, I'll give thee more; for, but to honour thee, Is Edward pleased with kingly regiment.[179] Fear'st thou thy person? thou shalt have a guard. Wantest thou gold? go to my treasury. Wouldst thou be loved and feared? receive my seal; Save or condemn, and in our name command Whatso thy mind affects, or fancy likes. _Gav._ It shall suffice me to enjoy your love, 170 Which whiles I have, I think myself as great As Cæsar riding in the Roman street, With captive kings at his triumphant car. _Enter the_ BISHOP OF COVENTRY. _Edw._ Whither goes my lord of Coventry so fast? _Bish._ To celebrate your father's exequies. But is that wicked Gaveston returned? _Edw._ I, priest, and lives to be revenged on thee, That wert the only cause of his exile. _Gav._ 'Tis true; and but for reverence of these robes, Thou should'st not plod one foot beyond this place. 180 _Bish._ I did no more than I was bound to do; And, Gaveston, unless thou be reclaimed, As then I did incense the parliament, So will I now, and thou shalt back to France. _Gav._ Saving your reverence, you must pardon me. _Edw._ Throw off his golden mitre, rend his stole, And in the channel[180] christen him anew. _Kent._ Ah, brother, lay not violent hands on him, For he'll complain unto the see of Rome. _Gav._ Let him complain unto the see of hell, 190 I'll be revenged on him for my exile.