Volume II Part 40 (1/2)

_Kent._ Fear it not.

[_Exeunt._

SCENE II.

_Enter_[274] _the_ QUEEN _and her_ Son.

_Queen._ Ah, boy! our friends do fail us all in France: The lords are cruel, and the king unkind; What shall we do?[275]

_Prince._ Madam, return to England, And please my father well, and then a fig For all my uncle's friends.h.i.+p here in France.

I warrant you, I'll win his highness quickly; He loves me better than a thousand Spencers.

_Queen._ Ah, boy, thou art deceived, at least in this, To think that we can yet be tuned together; No, no, we jar too far. Unkind Valois! 10 Unhappy Isabel! when France rejects, Whither, oh! whither dost thou bend thy steps?

_Enter_ SIR JOHN _of_ Hainault.

_Sir J._ Madam, what cheer?

_Queen._ Ah! good Sir John of Hainault, Never so cheerless, nor so far distrest.

_Sir J._ I hear, sweet lady, of the king's unkindness; But droop not, madam; n.o.ble minds contemn

Despair: will your grace with me to Hainault, And there stay time's advantage with your son?

How say you, my lord, will you go with your friends, And shake off all our fortunes equally? 20

_Prince._ So pleaseth[276] the queen, my mother, me it likes: The king of England, nor the court of France, Shall have me from my gracious mother's side, Till I be strong enough to break a staff; And then have at the proudest Spencer's head.

_Sir J._ Well said, my lord.

_Queen._ O, my sweet heart, how do I moan thy wrongs, Yet triumph in the hope of thee, my joy!

Ah, sweet Sir John! even to the utmost verge Of Europe, or[277] the sh.o.r.e of Tanais, 30 We will with thee to Hainault--so we will:-- The marquis is a n.o.ble gentleman; His grace, I dare presume, will welcome me.

But who are these?

_Enter_ KENT _and_ YOUNG MORTIMER.

_Kent._ Madam, long may you live, Much happier than your friends in England do!

_Queen._ Lord Edmund and Lord Mortimer alive!

Welcome to France! the news was here, my lord, That you were dead, or very near your death.

_Y. Mor._ Lady, the last was truest of the twain: But Mortimer, reserved for better hap, 40 Hath shaken off the thraldom of the Tower, And lives t' advance your standard, good my lord.

_Prince._ How mean you? and the king, my father, lives!

No, my Lord Mortimer, not I, I trow.

_Queen._ Not, son; why not? I would it were no worse.

But, gentle lords, friendless we are in France.

_Y. Mor._ Monsieur le Grand, a n.o.ble friend of yours, Told us, at our arrival, all the news; How hard the n.o.bles, how unkind the king Hath showed himself; but, madam, right makes room 50 Where weapons want; and, though so many friends Are made away, as Warwick, Lancaster, And others of our party[278] and faction; Yet have we friends, a.s.sure your grace, in England Would cast up caps, and clap their hands for joy, To see us there, appointed[279] for our foes.