THE Famous Chronicle of king Edward the first, surnamed Edward Longshanks, with his return from the holy land.  
ALSO THE LIFE OF LLEVELLEN rebel in Wales.  
Lastly, the sinking of Queen Elinor, who sunk at Charing-cross, and rose again at Pottershith, now named Queenehith.  
LONDON Printed by Abel jeffes, and are to be sold by William Barley, at his shop in Gracious street 1593.   

THE Famous Chronicle history of King Edward the first, surnamed Edward Longshanks: with the sinking of Queen Elinor at Charing-cross, and her rising again at Potters heath, otherwise called Queen heath.  Enter Gilbart de Clare Earl of Glocester, with the Earl of Sussex, Mortimer the Earl of March, David Lluellen's brother, waiting on Helinor the Queen mother. The Queen Mother. 
MY L. lieutenant of Glocester, and L. Mortimor,  
To do you honour in your sovereign's eyes,  
That as we hear is newly come a-land,  
From Palestine, with all his men of war.  
The poor remainder of the royal Fleet,  
Preserved by miracle in Sicill Road.  
Go mount your Coursers, meet him on the way,  
Pray him to spur his Steed, minutes and hours,  
Until his mother see her princely son,  
Shining in glory of his safe return.  Exeunt Lords. Manet Queen Mother. 
Illustrious England, ancient feat of kings,  
Whose chivalry hath royalized thy fame:  
That sounding bravely through terrestial vail,  
Proclaiming conquests, spoils, and victories,  
Rings glorious Echoes through the farthest world.  
What warlike nation trained in feats of arms,  
What barbarous people, stubborn or untamed,  
What climate under the Meridian signs,  
Or frozen Zone under his brumal stage,  
Erst have not quaked and trembled at the name  
Of Britain, and her mighty Conqueror,?  
Her neighbour realms as Scotland, Denmark, France,  
Aude with their deeds, and jealous of her arms,  
Have begged defensive and offensive leagues.  
Thus Europe rich and mighty in her kings,  
Hath feared brave England dreadful in her kings:  
And now to eternize Albion's Champions,  
Equivalent with Troyans' ancient fame,  
Comes lovely Edward from jerusalem,  
Veering before the wind, ploughing the sea,  
His stretched sails filled with the breath of men,  
That through the world admires his manliness.  
And Lo at last, arrived in Dover road,  
Long shank your king, your glory and our son,  
With troops of conquering Lords and warlike knights,  
Like bloody crested Mars o'erlooks his host,  
Higher than all his army by the head,  
Marching along as bright as Phoebus eyes,  
And we his mother shall behold our son,  
And England's Peers shall see their Sovereign.  The Trumpets sound, and enter the train, viz. his maimed Soldiers with headpieces and Garlands on them, every man with his red Cross on his coat: the Ancient borne in a Chair, his Garland and his plumes on his headpiece, his Ensign in his hand. Enter after them Glocester and Mortimer bareheaded, & others as many as may be. Then Longshanks and his wife Elinor, Edmund Couchback, and jone and signor Moumfort the Earl of Leicester's prisoner, with Sailors and Soldiers, and Charles de Moumfort his brother. Q. Mother. 
Glocester, Edward, O my sweet sons.  And then she falls and sounds. Longsh. 
Help Ladies: O ingrateful destiny,  
To welcome Edward with this tragedy.  Glocest. 
Patient your highness, 'tis but mother's love,  
Received with sight of her thrice valiant sons:  
Madam amaze not, see his Majesty  
Returned with glory from the holy land.  Moth. 
Brave sons the worthy Champions of our God,  
The honourable soldiers of the highest,  
Bear with your mother whose abundant love,  
With tears of joys salutes your sweet return,  
From famous journeys hard and fortunate.  
But lords alas how heavy is our loss,  
Since your departure to these Christian wars,  
The king your Father, and the prince your son,  
And your brave Uncle Almains Emperor,  
ay me are dead.  Longsh. 
Take comfort madam, leave these sad laments,  
Dear was my uncle, dearer was my son:  
And ten times dearer was my noble father,  
Yet were their lives valued at thousand worlds,  
They cannot scape the arrest of dreadful death:  
Death that doth seize and summon all alike.  
Then leaving them to heavenly blessedness,  
To join in thrones of glory with the just,  
I do salute your royal Majesty.  
My gracious mother Queen, and you my lords,  
Gilbart de Clare, Sussex, and Mortimer,  
And all the princely states of England's peers,  
With health and honour to your heart's content,  
And welcome wished England on whose ground,  
These feet so often have desired to tread,  
Welcome sweet Queen my fellow traveler,  
Welcome sweet Nell my fellow mate in arms,  
Whose eyes have seen the slaughtered Sarazens,  
Piled in the ditches of jerusalem,  
And lastly welcome manly followers,  
That bears the scars of honour and of arms,  
And on your war drums carry crowns as kings,  
Crown Mural, Naval, and triumphant all,  
At view of whom the Turks have trembling fled,  
And Sarazens like sheep before the walls,  
Have made their cottages in walled towns,  
But Bulwarks had no fence to beat you back,  
Lords, these and they will enter brazen gates,  
And tear down lime and Mortar with their nails.  
Embrace them Barons these have got the name,  
Of English Gentlemen and knights at arms:  
Not one of these but in the Champain field,  
Hath won his crown, his collar and his spurs,  
Not Caesar loading through the streets of Rome,  
The captive kings of conquered nations,  
Was in his princely triumphs honoured more,  
Than English Edward in this martial sight.  
countrymen your limbs are lost in service of the Lord,  
Which is your glory and your country's fame,  
For limbs, you shalt have living, lordships, lands,  
And be my counsellors in wars affairs:  
Soldiers sit down, Nell sit thee by my side,  
These be prince Edward's pompious treasury.  The Queen Mother being set on the one side, and Queen Elinor on the other, the king sitteth in the midst mounted highest, and at his feet the Ensign underneath him. 
O glorious Capitol, beauteous Senate house,  
Triumphant Edward, how like sturdy Oaks,  
Do these thy Soldiers circle thee about,  
To shield and shelter thee from winter's storms?  
Display thy cross, old Aims of the vieth,  
Dub on your Drums tanned with India's sun,  
My lusty western lads, Matreveirs thou,  
Sound proudly here a perfect point of war,  
In honour of thy sovereign's safe return.  
Thus Long shanks bids his Soldiers Bien veneu.  Use Drums, Trumpets, and Ensigns, and then speak Edward. Edw. 
O God my God, the brightness of my day,  
How oft hast thou preserved thy servant safe,  
By sea and land, yea in the gates of death,  
O God to thee how highly am I bound,  
For setting me with these on English ground:  
One of my mansion houses will I give,  
To be a college for my maimed men,  
Where every one shall have an hundred marks  
Of yearly pension to his maintenance,  
A Soldier that for Christ and country sights,  
Shall want no living whilst king Edward lives,  
Lords you that love me now be liberal,  
And give your largesse to these maimed men.  Q. Mot. 
Towards this erection doth thy mother give,  
Out of her dowry, five thousand pounds of gold,  
To find them Surgeons to recure their wounds,  
And whilst this ancient Standard bearer lives,  
He shall have forty pound of yearly fee,  
And be my Beadsman father if you please.  Longsh. 
Madam I tell you England never bred,  
A better soldier than your Beadsman is,  
And that the soldan and his Army felt.  Edmund. 
Out of the duchy of rich Lancaster,  
To find soft bedding for their bruised bones,  
Duke Edmund gives three thousand pounds.  Longsh. 
Gramercies brother Edmund,  
Happy is England under Edward's reign,  
When men are had so highly in regard,  
That Nobles strive who shall remunerate,  
The soldiers resolution with regard.  
My Lord of Glocester what is your benevolence?  Glocest. 
A thousand marks and please your Majesty.  Longsh. 
And yours my lord of Sussex?  Sussex. 
Five hundred pound, and please your majesty.  Long. 
What say you sir David of Brecknock.  David 
To a soldier sir David cannot be too liberal,  
Yet that I may give no more than a poor knight is able  
And not presume as a mighty Earl,  
I give my Lord four hundred, four score,  
And nineteen pounds:  
And so my lord of Sussex I am behind you an ace.  Sussex. 
And yet sir David ye amble after apace.  Lon. 
Well said dam thou couldst not be a Camber Britain  
If thou didst not love a soldier with thy heart,  
Let me see how is my Arithmetic will serve,  
To total the particulars.  Qu. Eli. 
Why my lord I hope you mean,  
I shall be a benefactor to my fellow soldiers.  Longshanks. 
And well said Nell.  
What wilt thou I set down for thee?  Q. El. 
Nay, my lord I am of age to set it down for myself.  
You will allow what I do, will you not?  Longsh. 
That I will Madam,  
Were it to the value of my kingdom.  Qu. Elin. 
What is the sum my lord?  Longshanks. 
10000 pounds my Nell.  Qu. Eli. 
Then Elinor bethink thee of a gift worthy the king of England's wife, and the king of Spain's daughter, and give such a largesse, that the Chronicles of this land may crake with record of thy liberality.  Parturient montes: nascitur ridiculus mus. she makes a Cipher. 
There my lord, neither one, two, nor three,  
But a poor Cipher in Agrum, to enrich good fellows,  
And compound their figure in their kind.  Longsh 
Madam I commend your composition,  
An argument of your honourable disposition:  
Sweet Nell thou shouldst not be thyself,  
Did not with thy mounting mind,  
Thy gift surmount the rest.  Gloce. 
Call you this Ridiculus mus? marry sir this mouse  
Would make a foul hole in a fair Cheese,  
'tis but a Cipher in Agrum,  
And it hath made of 10000 pounds, 100000 pounds:  Edmund. 
A princely gift and worthy memory.  Clocester. 
My gracious Lord, as erst I was assigned,  
Lieutenant to his Majesty,  
Here render I up the crown left in charge with me,  
By your princely father king Henry,  
Who on his death bed still did call for you,  
And dying, wild to you the Diadem.  Longshanks. 
Thanks worthy Lords,  
And seeing by doom of heavens it is decreed,  
And lawful line of our succession,  
Unworthy Edward is become your king,  
We take it as a blessing from on high,  
And will our Coronation be solemnized,  
Upon the 14. of December next.  Qu. Eli. 
Upon the 14. of December next?  
Alas my Lord, the time is all too short  
And sudden, for so great solemnity:  
A year were scarce enough to set a work,  
Tailors Embroiderers, and men of rare device,  
For preparation of so great estate.  
Trust me sweet Ned, hardly shall I bethink me,  
In twenty weeks what fashion robes to wear,  
I pray thee then defer it till the spring,  
That we may have our garments point device.  
I mean to send for Tailors into Spain,  
That shall confer of some fantastic suits,  
With those that be our cunning'st Englishmen,  
What? let me brave it now or never Ned.  Long. 
Madam content ye, would that were greatest care  
You shall have garments to your heart's desire,  
I never read but Englishmen excelled,  
For change of rare devices every way.  Q. Eli. 
Yet pray thee Ned, my love, my lord, and king,  
My fellow soldier, and compear in arms,  
Do so much honour to thy Elinor,  
To wear a suit that thee shall give thy grace,  
Of he one cost and workmanship perhaps.  Q. Mot. 
'twill come by leasurs daughter than I fear,  
thouart too fine finger to be quick at work.  Long. 
Twixt us a greater matter breaks no square,  
So it be such my Nell as may beseem,  
The majesty and greatness of a king.  
And now my Lords and loving friends,  
Follow your General to the court,  
After his travels to repose him then,  
There to recount with pleasure what is past,  
Of wars alarms, showers and sharpest storms.  Exeunt all, saving the Queen and her daughter. Q. Eli. 
Now Elinor, now England's lovely Queen,  
Bethink thee of the greatness of thy state:  
And how to bear thyself with royalty,  
Above the other Queens of Christendom,  
That Spain reaping renown by Elinor,  
And Elinor adding renown to Spain,  
Britain may her magnificence admire,  
I tell thee Joan, what time our highness sits,  
Under our royal Canopy of state,  
Glistering with pendants of the purest gold,  
Like as our seat were spangled all with stars  
The world shall wonder at our majesty,  
As if the daughter of eternal Ops,  
Turned to the likeness of Vermilion fumes,  
Where from her cloudy womb the centaurs leaped.  
Were in her royal seat enthronized.  Ione. 
Madam, if Joan thy daughter may advise,  
Let not your honour make your manners change  
The people of this land are men of war,  
The women courteous, mild, and debonair,  
Laying their lives at princes' feet,  
That governs with familiar majesty,  
But if their sovereigns once 'gin swell with pride,  
disdaining commons love which is the strength,  
And sureness of the richest common wealth:  
That Prince were better live a private life,  
Then rule with tyranny and discontent.  Q. Eli. 
Indeed we count them headstrong Englishmen  
But we shall hold them in a Spanish yoke:  
And make them know their Lord and sovereign.  
Come daughter let us home for to provide:  
For all the cunning workmen of this isle,  
In our great chamber shall be set a work,  
And in my hall shall bountifully feed.  
My King like Phoebus bridegroom like shall march  
With lovely Xheeis to her grassy bed,  
And all the lookers on shall stand amazed,  
To see King Edward and his lovely Queen,  
Sit lovely in England's stately throne.  Exeunt Ambo. Enter Lluellen, alias Prince of Wales: Rice ap Meredeth, Owen ap Rice, with sword and bucklers and freeze jerkins. Llu. 
Come Rice and rouse thee for thy countries good,  
Follow the man that means to make you great:  
Follow Lluellen rightful prince of Wales.  
Sprung from the loins of great Cadwallader,  
Descended from the loins of Trojan Brute,  
And though the traitorous 'Saxons, Normans, Danes,  
Have spent the true Romans of glorious Troy,  
Within the western mountains of this isle,  
Yet have we hope to climb these stony pales,  
When Londoners as Romans erst amazed,  
Shall trembling cry Lluellen's at the gate.  
T'accomplish this, thus have I brought you forth,  
Disguised to Milford haven, here attend,  
The landing of the lady Aeliner.  
Her stay doth make me muse, the wind stands fair  
And ten days hence we did expect them here,  
Neptune be favourable to my love,  
And steer her keel with thy three forked mace,  
That from this shore I may behold her sails,  
And in mine arms embrace my dearest dear.  Rice. 
Brave prince of Wales, this honourable match,  
Cannot but turn to Cambria's common good.  
Simon de Momfort, her thrice valiant son,  
That in the baron's wars was General,  
Was loved and honoured of the Englishmen.  
When they shall hear, she's your espoused wife.  
Assure your grace we shall have great supply,  
To make our roads in England mightily.  Owen. 
What we resolved, must strongly be performed,  
Before the king return from Palestine,  
Whilst he wins glory at jerusalem,  
Let us win ground upon the Englishmen.  Lluel. 
Owen ap Rice, 'tis that Lluellen fears,  
I fear me Edward will be come ashore,  
Ere we can make provision for the war.  
But be it as it will, within his court  
My brother David is, that bears a face,  
As if he were my greatest enemy,  
He by this craft shall creep into her heart,  
And give intelligence from time to time,  
Of her intentions, drifts and stratagems.  
Here let us rest upon the salt sea shore,  
And while our eyes long for our hearts desires,  
Let us like friend's pastime us on the sands,  
Our frolic minds are ominous for good.  Enter Friar Hugh ap David, Guenthian his wench in Flannel, and jack his Novice. Friar. 
Gwenthian as I am true man,  
So will I do the best I can:  
Gwenthian as I am true Priest,  
So will I be at thy behest:  
Gwenthian as I am true Friar,  
So will I be at thy desire.  Novice. 
My master stands too near the fire,  
Trust him not wench, he will prove a liar.  Lluellen. 
True man, true Friar, true priest, & true knave,  
These four in one this trull shall have,  Friar. 
Here swear I by my shaven crown,  
Wench if I give thee a gay green gown,  
I'll take thee up as I laid thee down,  
And never bruise nor batter thee.  Novice. 
O swear not master, flesh is frail,  
Wench when the sign is in the tail,  
Mighty is love and will prevail,  
This Churchman doth but flatter thee.  Lluel. 
A pretty worm, and a lusty friar,  
Made for the field, not for the choir.  Guenth. 
mas. Friar as I am true maid,  
So do I hold me well a paid:  
'tis churchman's lay and verity,  
To live in love and charity,  
And therefore ween I as my creed,  
Your words shall company my deed,  
Davie my dear, I yield in all,  
Thine own to go and come at call.  Rice. 
And so far forth begins our brawl.  Friar. 
Then my Gwenthian to begin,  
Sith idleness in love is sin,  
Boy to the town I will thee hie,  
And so return even by and by,  
When thou with cakes and muscadine,  
And other junkets good and fine,  
Hast filled thy bottle and thy bag.  Novice. 
Now master as I am true wag,  
I will be neither late nor lag,  
But go and come with gossip's cheer,  
Ere Gib our Cat can lick her care.  
For long ago I learned in school,  
That lovers desire, and pleasures cool:  
Sanct Ceres' sweets and Bacchus' vine,  
Now master for the Cakes and Wine.  Exit Novice. Friar. 
Wench to pass away the time in glee,  
Gwenthian set thee down by me,  
And let our lips and voices meet,  
In a merry country song.  Guenth. 
Friar, I am at beek and bay,  
And at thy commandment to sing and say,  
And other sports among.  Ow. 
I marry my lord, this is somewhat like a man's money,  
here's a wholesome Welsh wench,  
Leapt in her Flannel as warm as wool,  
And as fit as a pudding for a friar's mouth.  The Friar and Guenthian sing: Lluellen speaks to them. 
Pax vobis, pax vobis, good fellows fair fall ye.  Friar. 
Et cum spiritu tuo.  
friend's have you any thing else to say to the Friar?  Owen. 
Much good do you, much good you,  
My masters heartelie.  Friar. 
And you sir when ye eat:  
have ye any thing else to say to the Friar?  Lluel. 
Nothing, but I would gladly know,  
If muttó be your first dish, what shallbe your last service.  Friar. 
It may be sir I count it physic,  
To feed but on one dish at a sitting:  
Sir would you any thing else with the Friar?  Rice. 
O nothing sir, but if you had any manners,  
You might bid us fall too.  Friar. 
Nay and that be the matter good enough,  
Is this all ye have to say to the Friar?  Lluel 
All we have to say to you sir, it may be sir,  
We would walk aside with your wench a little.  Friar. 
My masters and friends, I am a poor Friar, a man of God's making, and a good fellow as you are, legs, feet, face and hands, & heart from top to toe, of my word, right shape and Christendom: and I love a wench as a wench should be loved, and if you love yourself walk good friends I pray you, & let the Friar alone with his flesh.  Lluel. 
O Friar, your holy mother the church teaches you to abstain from these morsels, therefore my masters 'tis a deed of charity to remove this stumbling block, a fair wench, a shrewd temptation to a friar's conscience.  Guen. 
Friend if you knew the Friar half so well as the bailie of Brecknock, you would think you might as so one move monk Davie into the sea, as Guenth. from his side.  Lluel. 
Mas by your leave, we'll prove.  Guenth. 
At your peril if you move his patience.  Friar. 
Brother, brother, and my good Countrymen.  Lluel. 
Countrymen? nay I cannot think that an English friar, will come so far into Wales barefooted.  Owen. 
That's more than you know, and yet my lord he might ride, having a filly so near. warnings:  Fri. 
Hands off good countryman, at few words & fair  Lluel. 
Countrymen, not so sir, we renounce thee Friar, and refuse your country.  Friar. 
Then brother and my good friends,  
Hands off and if you love your ease.  Rice. 
Ease me no easings, we'll ease you of this carriage.  Friar. 
Fellow be gone quickly, or my pike staff and I will set thee away with a vengeance.  Llu. 
I am sorry trust me to see the church so unpatient.  Fri. 
Ye Dogs ounes, do me a shroud turn and mock me too, flesh and blood will not bear this: then rise up Robert and say to Richard, Red rationem villicationistuae. sir Countryman, kinsman, Englishman, Welshman, you with the Wench, return your Habeas corpus, here's a Circiorari for your Procedendo.  Owen. 
Hold friar we are thy countrymen.  
Rice. Paid, paid, Digone, we are thy countrymen, Mundue.  Friar. 
My Countrymen? nay marry sir shall you not be my countrymen, you sir, you, specially you sir that refuse the Friar, and renounce his country.  Lluel. 
Friar, hold thy hands, I swear as I am a Gentleman, I am a Welshman, and so are the rest of honesty.  Friar. 
Of honesty sayest thou?  
They are neither Gentlemen nor Welshmen,  
That will deny their country: Come hither wench,  
I'll have about with them once more,  
For denying of their Country.  Make as if ye would fight. Rice. 
friar thou wottest not what thou say est,  
This is the prince, and we are all his train:  
Disposed to be pleasant with thee a little,  
But I perceive Friar, thy nose will bide no rest.  Friar. 
As much as you will with me sir,  
But not at any hand with my wench,  
I and Richard my man here.  
For here, Contra omnes gentes.  
But is this Lluellen the great Camber Britain?  Lluel. 
It is he Friar, give me thy hand,  
And gramercies twenty times,  
I promise thee thou hast cudgeled  
Two as good lessons into my jacket,  
As ever Churchman did at so short warning.  
The one is, not to be too busy with another man's cattle,  
The other, not in haste to deny my country.  Friar. 
'tis pity my Lord,  
But you should have more of this learning  
You profit so well by it.  Lluel. 
'tis pity Friar but thou shouldst be Lluellen's Chaplain, thou edifiest so well, and so shalt thou be, of mine honour, here I entertain thee, thy boy, and thy trull, to follow my fortune, in Secula seculorum.  Friar. 
And Richard my man sir and you love me,  
He that stands by me, and shrunk not at all weathers,  
And than you have me in my colours.  Lluel 
Friars agreed: Rice welcome the ruffians.  Enter the Harper, and sing to the tune of Who list to lead a soldiers life. 
Go too, go too, you britain's all,  
And play the men both great and small,  
A wondrous matter hath be fall,  
That makes the prophet's cry and call,  
Tum da et di te de te dum,  
That you must march both all and some,  
Against your foes with trump and Drum:  
I speak to you from God that you shall overcome.  With a turn both ways. Lluel. 
What now, who have we here?  
Tum date dite dote dum.  Fri. 
What have we a fellow dropped out of the element,  
What's he for a man?  Rice ap Mer. 
Knowest thou this Goscup?  Fri. 
What? not Morgan Pigot, our good welsh prophet,  
O 'tis a holy Harper.  Meredith. 
A Prophet with a murrain,  
Good my Lord, let's hear a few of his lines I pray you.  Novice. 
My lords, 'tis an odd fellow I can tell you,  
As any is in all Wales:  
He can sing rhyme with reason, and rhyme without reason,  
And without reason or rhyme.  Lluellen. 
The devil he can,  
Rhyme with reason, and rhyme without reason,  
And reason without rhyme:  
Then good Morgan Pigot, pluck out thy spigot,  
And draw us a fresh pot,  
From the kinder kind of thy knowledge.  Friar. 
Knowledge my son, knowledge I warranty,  
How sayst thou Morgan, art thou not a very prophet?  Harper. 
Friar, friar, a Prophet verily,  
For great Lluellen's love,  
Sent from above, to bring him victory.  Mered. 
Come then gentle prophet, let's see how thou canst salute thy prince, say, shall we have good success in our enterprise or no?  Harp. 
When the weathercock of Carmarthen steeple  
Shall engender young ones in the belfry,  
And a herd of Goats leave their pasture,  
To be clothed in silver:  
Then shall Brute be borne a new,  
And Wales record their ancient hue,  
Ask Friar David if this be not true.  Friar. 
This my Lord a means by you,  
O he is a prophet, a prophet.  Lluel. 
Soft you now good Morgan Pigot,  
And take us with ye a little I pray,  
What means your wisdom by all this.  Harper. 
The Weathercock (my lord) was your father, who by foul weather of waire, was driven to take Sanctuary in Saint Mary's at Carnarvon, where he begat young ones on your mother in the belfry, viz. your worship, and your brother David  Lluel. 
But what didst thou mean by the Goats?  Harp. 
The Goats that leave the pasture to be clothed in silver, are the silver goats your men wore on their sleeves.  Fr. 
O how I love thee Morgan Pigot our sweet prophet.  Llu. 
Hence rogue with your prophecies, out of my sight.  Mered. 
Nay good my lord, let's have a few more of these meeters, he hath great store in his head.  Novice. 
Yea, and of the best in the market,  
And your Lordship would vouchsafe to hear them.  Lluellen. 
Villain away, i'll here no more of your prophecies.  Harper. 
When legs shall lose their length,  
Returning weary home. from out the holy land:  
A Welshman shall be king,  
And govern merry England.  Mered 
Did I not tell your Lordship he would hit it home anon?  Friar. 
My Lord he comes to your time that's flat.  Novice. 
I master and you mark him, he hit the mark pat.  Friar. 
As how jack?  Nou 
Why thus: when legs shall lose their length,  
And thanks yield up their strength:  
Returning weary home from out the holy land,  
A Welshman shall be king,  
And govern merry England.  
Why my Lord. in this prophesy, is your advancement as plainly seen, as a three halfpence through a dish of butter in a sunny date.  Fri. 
I think so lack for he that sees three halfpence, must tarry till the butter be melted in the sun, and so forth apply boy  Novice 
Nonego master, do you and you dare.  Lluel. 
And so boy thou meanest, he that tarries this prophesy, may see Long shanks shorter by the head, and Lluellan wear the crown in the field.  Friar. 
By lady my Lord you go near the matter,  
But what saith Morgan Pigot more?  Harper. 
In the year of our lord God 1272, shall spring from the loins of Brute. one whose wives name being the perfect end of his ground, shall consummate the peace betwixt England and Wales, and be advanced to ride through Cheapside with a crown on his head, and that's meant by your lordship, for your wives name being Ellen, and your own Lluellan, beareth the perfect end of your own name: so must it needs be, that for a time Ellen flee from Lluellen, ye being betrothed in heart each to others, must needs be advanced to be highest of your kin.  Lluel. 
Jack, I make him thy prisoner,  
Look what way my fortune inclines,  
That way goes he,  Mered. 
Sirrah, see you run swiftest.  Friar. 
Farewell, be far from the spigot,  Exit. Novice. 
Now sir, if our country Ale, were as good as your metheglin, I would teach you to play the knave. or you should teach me to play the Harper.  Harp. 
Ambo, boy, you are too light witted,  
As I am light minded.  Noui. 
It seemed to me thou art fittest, and passing well.  Exeunt ambo. Enter Guenther to Lluellen with letters. Lluel. 
What tidings bringeth Guenther with his haste?  
Say man, what bodes thy message good or bad.  Guenther. 
Bad my lord, and all in vain I wot,  
Thou darest thine eyes upon the wallowing main,  
As erst did Aegen to behold his son,  
To welcome and receive thy welcome love,  
And sable sails he saw, and so mayst thou,  
For whose mishap the Brackish seas lament,  
Edward, o Edward.  Lluel. 
And what of him?  Guenther. 
Landed he is at Dover with his men,  
From Palestine safe by his English Lords,  
Received in triumphs like an earthly God,  
He lives to wear his father's Diadem,  
And sway the sword of british Albion.  
But Elinor, thy Elinor.  Lluellen. 
And what of her?  
Hath amorous Neptune gazed upon my love,  
And stopped her passage with his forked mace:  
Or that I rather fear, O deadly fear,  
Enamoured Nereus doth he withhold my Elinor?  Guenther. 
Nor Neptune, Nereus nor other God,  
Withholdeth from my gracious lord his love,  
But cruel Edward that injurious king,  
Withholds thy liefest lovely Elmor,  
Taking in a Pinnace on the narrow seas,  
By four tall ships of Bristol, and with her,  
Lord Emerick her unhappy noble brother,  
As from Mont argis hitherward they sailed:  
This say in brief these letters tell at large.  Lluellen reads his brother David's letters. Lluel 
Is Longshanks then, so lusty now become,  
Is my fair love my beauteous Elinor ta'en?  
Villain damned villains not to guard her safe,  
Or fence her sacred person from her foes,  
Sun couldst thou shine and see my love beset,  
And didst not clothe thy clouds in fiery coats,  
o'er all the heavens with winged sulphur flames,  
As when the beams like mounted combatants,  
battled with Pyetion in the fallowed lays,  
But if kind Cambria deign me good aspect,  
To make me chiefest brute of western Wales,  
I'll short that gain-legged Longshanke by the top,  
And make his flesh my murdering falchion's food:  
To arms true britain's sprung of Trojans seed.  
And with your sword write in the book of Time,  
Your British names in Characters of blood.  
Owen ap Rice, while we stay for further force,  
Prepare away in post, and take with thee,  
A hundred chosen of thy countrymen,  
And scour the marches with your Welshmen's hooks,  
That Englishmen may think the devil is come.  
Rice shall remain with me, make thou thy bode,  
In resolution to revenge these wrongs,  
With blood of thousands guiltless of this rage,  
Fly thou on them amain: Edward, my love  
Be thy lives bane. Follow me countrymen,  
Words make no way, my Elinor is surprised,  
Robbed am I of the comfort of my life,  
And know I this and am not venged on him?  Exit Lluellen, and the other lords. Manet, the Friar and Novice. Friar. 
Come boy we must buckle I see,  
The prince is of my profession right:  
Rather than he will lose his wench,  
He will fight Ab ovo vsque ad mala.  Novice. 
O master doubt you not but your Novice will prove a hot shot, with a bottle of Metheglin.  Exeunt, ere the wench fall into a Welsh song, and the Friar answer, and the novice between. Enter the nine lords of Scotland, with their nine pages, Gloster, Sussex, king Edward in his suit of glass, Queen Elinor, Queen Mother, the King and Queen under a Canopy. Iong. 
Nobles of Scotland, we thank you all,  
For this days gentle princely service done,  
To Edward England's king and Scotland's lord:  
Our Coronations due solemnity,  
Is ended with applause of all estates.  
Now then let us appose and rest us here,  
But specially we thank you gentle lords,  
That you so well have governed your griefs,  
As being grown unto a age all jar,  
You choose king Edward by your Messengers,  
To calm, to qualify, and to compound:  
Thank Britain's strife of Scotland's climbing peers.  
I have no doubt fair lords but you well wot,  
How factions waste the richest Commonwealth,  
And discord spoils the seats of mighty kings.  
The baron's wars, a tragic wicked war,  
Nobles how hath it shaken England's strength?  
Industriously it seems to me you have,  
Loyally ventured to prevent this shock,  
For which sith you have chosen me your judge,  
My lord, will you stand to what I shall award?  Baliol. 
Victorious Edward, to whom the Scottish kings  
Owe homage as their lord and sovereign,  
Amongst us nine, is but one lawful king:  
But might we all be judges in the case,  
Then should in Scotland be nine kings at once,  
And this contention never set or limited,  
To stay these jars we jointly make appeal,  
To thy imperial throne, who knows our claims,  
We stand not on our titles before your grace,  
But do submit ourselves to your award,  
And whom your Majesty shall name to be our king,  
To him we'll yield obedience as a king,  
Thus willingly, and of their own accord,  
Doth Scotland make great England's king their judge.  Lorg. 
Then nobles since you all agree in one,  
That for a crown so disagree in all,  
Since what I do shall rest irrevocable,  
And lovely England to thy lovely Queen,  
Lovely Queen Elinor, unto her turn thy eye,  
Whose honour cannot but love thee well,  
Hold up your hands in sight, with general voice,  
That are content to stand to our award.  They all hold up their hands, and say he shall. 
Deliver me the golden Diadem.  
Lo here I hold the goal for which ye strived,  
And here behold my worthy men at arms,  
For chivalry and worthy wisdoms praise,  
Worthy each one to wear a Diadem,  
Expect my doom, as erst at I da hills,  
The Goddesses divine waited the award,  
Of Danae's son: Balliol stand farthest forth,  
Balliol behold I give thee the Scottish crown,  
Wear it with heart and with thankfulness:  
Sound Trumpets, and say all after me,  
God save king Balliol the Scottish king.  The Trumpets sounds, all cry aloud, God save King Baliol the Scottish king. 
Thus lords though you require no reason why,  
According to the conscience in the cause,  
I make john Balliol your anointed king:  
Honour and love him as behooves him best,  
That is in peace of Scotland's crown possessed.  Baliol. 
Thanks royal England for thy honour done,  
This justice that hath calmed our civil strife:  
Shall now be ceased with honourable love,  
So moved of remorse and pity,  
We will erect a college of my name,  
In Oxford will I build for memory,  
Of Balliol's bounty and his gratitude:  
And let me happy days no longer see,  
Then here to England loyal I shall be.  Elinor. 
Now brave john Balliol Lord of Gallaway,  
And king of Scots shine with thy golden head,  
Shake thy spears in honour of his name,  
Under whose royalty thou wear'st the same.  Queen Elinor's speech. 
The welkin spangled through with golden spots,  
Reflects no finer in a frosty night,  
Then lovely Longshanks in his Elinor's eye:  
So Ned thy Nell in every part of thee,  
Thy person's guarded with a troup of Queens,  
And every Queen as brave as Elinor,  
Give glory to these glorious crystal quarries,  
Where every rob an object entertains,  
Of rich device and princely majesty.  
Thus like Narcissus diving in the deep,  
I die in honour and in England's arms:  
And if I drown, it is in my delight.  
Whose company is chiefest life in death,  
From forth whose coral lips I suck the sweet,  
Wherewith are dainty Cupid's candles made,  
Then live or die brave Ned, or sink or swim,  
An earthly bliss it is to look on him,  
On thee sweet Ned, it shall become thy Nell,  
Bounteous to be unto the beauteous,  
o'er pry the palms sweet fountains of my bliss;  
And I will stand on tiptoe for a kiss.  Long. 
He had no thought of any gentle heart,  
That would not seize desire for such desert,  
If any heavenly joy in women be,  
Sweet of all sweets, sweet Nell it is in thee.  
Now lords along by this the Earl of march,  
Lord Mortimor o'er Cambria's mountain tops,  
Hath ranged his men, and feels Lluellen's mind,  
To which confines that well in wasting be,  
Our solemn service of coronation past,  
We will amain to back our friends at need,  
And into to Wales our men at arms shall march,  
And we with them in person foot by foot.  
Brother of Scotland, you shall to your home,  
And live in honour there fair England friend.  
And thou sweet Nell Queen of king Edward's heart.  
Shall now come lesser at thy dainty love,  
And at coronation meet thy loving peers,  
When storms are past, and we have cooled the rage  
Of these rebellious Welshmen that contend,  
'gainst England's majesty, and Edward's crown.  
Sound Trumpets heralds lead the train along,  
This be king Edward's feast and holly day.  Exeunt. Enter the Maris of London from Church, and Music before her. Qu. Eli. 
Glocester, who may this be, a bride or what?  
I pray ye Joan go see,  
And know the reason of the harmony.  Ione. 
Good woman let it not ostend you any whit,  
For to deliver unto me the cause,  
That in this unusual kind of sort,  
You pass the streets with music so.  Maris. 
Mistress or Madam whate'er you be,  
Wot you I am the Maior of London's wife,  
Who for I have been delivered of a son,  
Having not these dozen years had any before,  
Now in my husband's year of Mayoralty,  
Bringing him a goodly boy,  
I pass unto my house a maiden bride,  
Which private pleasure touching godliness,  
Shall hear no way I hope offend the good.  Queen. 
You hope so gentle mistress, do you indeed!  
But do not make it parcel of your creed.  Maris. 
Alas I am undone, it is the Queen,  
The proudest Queen that ever England knew.  Exeunt Maris, & omnes. Quee. 
Come Gloster, let's to the court and revel there.  Exeunt Glocester and the Queen. Enter Meredith, David, and Lluellen. David. 
Soft is it not Meredith I behold?  Lluel. 
All good, all friends: Meredith see the man,  
Must make us great, and raise Lluellen's head:  
Fight thou Lluellen for thy friend and thee.  Mer. 
Fight maugre fortune strong our battles strong,  
And bear thy foes before thy pointed lance  David. 
Not too much prowess good my lord at once.  
Some talk of policy another while.  Mered. 
How comes my limbs hurt at this assault?  Lluel. 
Hurt for our good, Meredith make account,  
Sir David's wit is full of good devise,  
And kindly will perform what he pretends.  David 
Enough of this my Lord at once,  
What will you that I hold the king in hand,  
Or what shall I especially advise,  
Sitting in counsel with the English lords,  
That so my counsel may avail my friends?  Lluel. 
David if thou wilt best for me devise,  
Advise my love be rendered to my hand:  
Tell them the Chains that Mulciber erst made,  
To tie Prometheus' limbs to Caucasus,  
Nor furies fangs shall hold me long from her,  
But I will have her from the usurper tent,  
My beauteous Elinor: if aught in this,  
If in this case thy wit may boot thy friends,  
Express it then in this, in nothing else.  David. 
I there's a Card that puts us to our trump,  
For might I see the star of Leister's loins,  
It were enough to darken and obscure,  
This Edward's glory, fortune, and his pride:  
First hereof can I put you out of doubt,  
Lord Mortimor of the king hath her in charge,  
And honourably entreats your Elinor,  
Some thinks he prays Lluellen were in heaven,  
And thereby hopes to coach his love on earth.  Lluel 
No, where Lluellen mounts, there Ellen flies  
Unspeakable are my thoughts for her,  
She is not from me in death to be divorced.  David. 
Go to, it shall be so, so shall it be,  
Edward is full resolved of thy faith,  
So are the English lords and Barons all:  
Then what may let thee to intrude on them,  
Some new found stratagem to feel their wit,  
It is enough: Meredith take my weapons,  
I am your prisoner, say so at the least,  
Go hence, and when you parley on the walls,  
Make show of monstrous tyranny you intend,  
To execute on me, as on the man,  
That shamefully rebels 'gainst kin and kind:  
And least thou have thy love, and make thy kind:  
With such conditions as shall best concern,  
David must die say thou a shameful death,  
Edward perhaps with ruth and pity moved,  
Will in exchange yield Elinor to thee,  
And thou by me shalt gain thy hearts desire.  Lluel. 
Sweetly advised David, thou blessest me,  
My brother David lengthener of my life,  
Friends gratulate to me my joyful hopes.  Exeunt. Enter Longshanks, Sussex, and others. Long. 
Why Barons, suffer ye our foes to breath?  
Assault, assault, and charge them all amain,  
They fear, they fly, they faint, they fight in vain,  
But where is gentle David in his Den?  
Loath were length but good should him betide.  Sound an Alarum. On the walls enter Longshanks, Sussex, Mortimor, David the Friar, Meredith holding David by the collar, with a Dagger in his hand. Long. 
Where is the proud disturber of our state?  
Traitor to wails, and to his Sovereign.  Lluel. 
Usurper here I am, what dost thou crave.  Lon. 
Welshman allegiance which thou owest thy king.  Lluel. 
Traitor, no king, that seeks thy country's sack,  
The famous runagate of Christendom.  Long. 
Ambitious rebel, knowest thou what I am,  
How great. how famous, and how fortunate,  
And darest thou carry arms against me here,  
Even when thou shouldst do reverence at my feet?  
Yea feared and honoured in the farthest parts,  
Hath Edward been, thy noble Henry's son,  
Traitor, this sword unsheathed hath shined oft,  
With reeking in the blood of Sarazens,  
When like to Perseus on his winged steed,  
Brandishing bright the blood of Adamant,  
That aged Saturn gave fair Maia's son,  
Conflicting tho with Gorgon in the vale,  
Setting before the gates of Nazareth,  
My horse's hooves I stained in pagan's gore,  
Sending whole countries of heathen souls,  
To Pluto's house: this sword, this thirsty sword,  
Aims at thy head, and shall I hope ere long,  
Gage and divide thy bowels and thy bulk,  
Disloyal villain thou, and what is more.  Lluel. 
Why Longshanks, thinkst thou I will be scared with words?  
No, didst thou speak in thunder like to Jove,  
Or shouldst as Briareus shake at once,  
A hundred bloody sword, with bloody hands,  
I tell thee Longshanks here he faceth thee,  
Whom nought can daunt, no not the stroke of death:  
Resolved ye see: but see the chance of war,  
know'st thou a traitor and thou seest his head,  
Than Longshanks look this villain in the face:  
This Rebel he hath wrought his country's wrack,  
Base. rascal, had and hated in his kind,  
Object of wrath, and subject of revenge.  Long. 
Lluellen, call'st thou this the chance of war?  
Bad for us all perdie, but worse for him,  
Courage sir David, kings thou know'st must die,  
And noble minds all dastard fear defies.  David. 
Renowned England, star of Edward's Globe,  
My liefest lord and sweetest Sovereign,  
Glorious and happy is this chance to me,  
To reap this fame and honour in my death,  
That I was hewed with foul defiled hands,  
For my beloved king and countries good,  
And died in grace and favour with my prince:  
Seize on me bloody butchers with your paws,  
It is but temporal that you can inflict.  Long. 
Bravely resolved brave soldier by my life.  Friar. 
Hark you sir, I am afeard you will not be so resolved, by that time you know so much as I can show you, here be hot Dogs I can tell you, means to have the baiting of you.  Mort. 
Lluellen in the midst of all thy braves,  
How wilt thou use thy brother, thou hast ta'en,  
Wilt thou let his master ransom him?  Lluel. 
No nor his mistress gallant Mortimor,  
With all the gold and silver of the land.  Mered. 
Ransom this judas to his father's line,  
Ransom this traitor to his brother's life,  
No take that earnest penny of thy death,  
This touch my lord comes nothing near the mark.  Meredith stabs him into the arms and shoulders. Longsh. 
O damned villain hold thy hands,  
Ask and have.  Lluel. 
We will nor ask nor have, seest thou these tools?  He shows him hot pincers. 
These be the Dogs shall bait him to the death,  
And shall by piecemeals tear his cursed flesh,  
And in thy sight here shall he hang and pine.  Long. 
O villains, traitors, how will I be venged?  Lluel. 
What threats thou Edward,  
Desperate minds contemn,  
That fury menaceth, see thy words effects.  He cuts his nose. David. 
O gracious heavens, dissolve me into clay,  
This tyranny is more than flesh can bear.  Lon. 
Bear it brave mind, sith nothing but thy blood,  
May satisfy in this extreme estate.  Sussex. 
My lord it is in vain to threaten them,  
They are resolved ye see upon his death.  Long. 
Sussex, his death, they all shall buy it dear,  
Offer them any favour for his life,  
Pardon, or peace, or aught what is beside:  
So love me God, as I regard my friends.  
Lluellen let me have thy brother's life,  
Even at what rate and ransom thou wilt name.  Lluel. 
Edward, king Edward, as thou list be termed,  
Thou know'st thou hast my beauteous Elinor,  
Produce her forth, to plead for David's life,  
She may obtain more than an host of men.  Long. 
Wilt thou exchange thy prisoner for thy love?  Lluel. 
Talk no more to me, let me see her face.  Morti. 
Why, will your majesty be all so base,  
To stoop to his demands in every thing?  Long. 
Fetch her at once, good Mortimor be gone.  Morti 
I go, but how unwilling heavens doth know,  Mered. 
A pace Mortimor if thou love thy friend.  Morti. 
I go for dearer than I leave behind.  Mortimor goes for Elinor, and conducts her in. Long. 
See Sussex how he bleedeth in my eye,  
That beareth fortunes shock triumphantly.  Friar. 
Saw haw, mai●er; I have found, I have found.  Lluel. 
What hast thou found Friar, ha?  Mered. 
News my lord, a Star from out the Sea,  
The same is risen, and made a summers day.  Then Lluellen spieth Elinor and Mortimor, and saith thus. 
What Nell, sweet Nell, do I behold thy face?  
Fall heavens, fleet stars, shine Phoebus lamp no more,  
This is the Planet lends this world her light,  
Star of my fortune, this that shineth bright,  
Queen of my heart, load star of my delight,  
Fair mould of beauty, miracle of fame,  
O let me die with Elinor in mine arms:  
What honour shall I lend thy loyalty,  
Or praise unto thy sacred deity.  Mered. 
Marry this my lord, if I may give you counsel, sacrifice this Tike in her sight, her friend, which being done, one of your soldiers may dip his foul shirt in his blood, so shall you be waited with as many crosses as king Edward.  Long. 
Good cheer sir David, we shall up anon.  Morti. 
Die Mortimor, thy life is almost gone.  Eli. 
Sweet prince of Wales, were I within thine arms,  
Then should I in peace possess my love,  
And heavens open fair their crystal gates,  
That I may see the palace or my intent.  Long. 
Lluellen set try brother free,  
Let me have him, thou shalt have Elinor.  Lluel. 
Sooth Edward I do prize my Elinor,  
Dearer than life, but there belongeth more  
To these affairs, than my content in love:  
And to be short, if thou wilt have thy man,  
Of whom I swear thou thinkest over well,  
The safety of Lluellen and his men,  
Must be regarded highly in this match,  
Say therefore and be short, wilt thou give peace  
And pardon to Lluellen and his men.  Long. 
I will herein have time to be advised.  Lluel 
King Edward no, we will admit no pause,  
For goes this wretch, this wretch to the pot,  
And if Lluellen be pursued so near,  
May chance to show thee such a tumbling cast,  
As e'er our father, when he thought to scape,  
And broke his neck from julius Caesar's town.  Sussex. 
My lord these rebels all are desperate.  Morti. 
And Mortimor of all most miserable.  Longsh 
How say you Welshmen, will you leave your arms,  
And be true liegemen unto Edward's crown?  All the Sold 
If Edward pardon surely what is past,  
Upon conditions we are all content.  Long. 
Belike you will condition with us then.  Sold 
Special conditions for our safety first,  
And for our country Cambria's common good,  
T'avoid the fusion of our guilty blood.  Longsh. 
Go to, say on.  Sold 
First for our followers and ourselves and all,  
We ask a pardon in the PRINCE's word,  
Then for this Lords possession in his love:  
But for our Country cheer these bones we beg,  
And England's promise princely to thy Wails,  
That none be Cambria's prince to govern us,  
But he that is a Welshman borne in Wales.  
Grant this and swear it on thy knightly sword,  
And have thy man, and us, and all in peace.  Lluel. 
Why Cambria Britain's are you so incensed,  
Will you deliver me to Edward's hands?  Soldi. 
No lord Lluellen we will back for thee,  
Thy life, thy love, and golden liberty.  Morti. 
A truce with honourable conditions ta'en,  
Wales happiness, England's glory, and my bane.  Long. 
Command retreat be sounded in our camp,  
Soldiers I grant at full what you request,  
David good cheer, Lluellen open the gates.  Lluel. 
The gates are opened, enter thee and thine.  Daus. 
The sweetest sun that ere I saw to shine.  Long. 
Madam, a brabble well begun for thee,  
Be thou my guest, and sir Lluellen's love.  Exeunt. Mortimor solus. 
Mortimor, a brabble ill began for thee,  
A truce with capital conditions ta'en:  
A prisoner saved and ransomed with thy life,  
Edward my king, my Lord and lover dear,  
Full little dost thou wot, how this retreat.  
As with a sword, hath slain poor Mortimor.  
Farewell the flower the gem of beauty's blaze,  
Sweet Ellen, miracle of nature's hand,  
Fuellen in thy name, but heaven is in thy looks,  
Sweet Venus let me saint or devil be,  
In that sweet heaven or hell that is in thee,  Exit. Enter jack and the Harper getting a standing against the Queen comes in. The trumpets sound Queen Elinor or in her litter borne by four Negro moor Jone of Acton with her, attended on by the Earl of Glocester, and her four footmen, one having set a ladder to the side de of the litter. she descended and her daughter followeth. Qu. Eli. 
Give me my pantables.  
Fie this hot wether how it makes me sweat,  
heigh ho my heart, ah I am passing faint.  
Give me my fan that I may cool my face,  
Hold, take my mask but see you rumple not,  
This wind and dust see how it smolders me,  
Some drink good Gloster or I die for drink,  
Ah Ned thou hast forgot thy Nell I see,  
That she is thus enforced to follow thee. (majesty  Gloster. 
This airs distemperature and please your  
Noisome through mountains vapours send thick mist,  
Unpleasant needs must be to you and your company,  
That never was wont to take the air,  
Till Flora have perfumed the earth with sweets,  
With lilies, roses, mints and Eglantine,  Qu. Eli. 
I tell thee the ground is all to base,  
For Elinor to honour with her steps:  
Whose footpace when she progressed in the street,  
Of Aecon and the fair jerusalem,  
Was nought but costly Arras points:  
Fair I land tapestry and Azured silk,  
My milk white steed treading on cloth of ray,  
And trampling proudly underneath the feet,  
Choice of our English woollen drapery.  
This climate or clowring with black congealed clouds,  
That takes their swelling from the marish soil,  
Fraught with infectious frogs and rvistie damps,  
Is far unworthy to be once embalmed:  
With redolence of this refreshing breath:  
That sweetens where it lights as do the flames,  
And holy fires of Vesta's sacrifice. spring,  Ione. 
Whose pleasant fields new planted with the  
Make Thamesis to mount above the banks,  
And like a wanton wallowing up and down:  
On Flora's beds and Napees silver down.  Glo. 
And wales for me madam while you are here,  
No Climate good unless your grace be near,  
Would wales had aught could please you half so well,  
Or any precious thing in Gloster's gift,  
Whereof your ladyship would challenge me.  Ione. 
Well said my lord 'tis as my mother says,  
You men have learned to woe a thousand ways.  Gloster. 
O madame had I learned against my need,  
Of all those ways to woo one way to speed,  
My cunning then had been my fortune's guide.  Q. Eli. 
Faith Joan I think thou must be Gloster's bride,  
Good Earl how near he steps unto her side,  
So soon this eye these younglings had espied,  
I'll tell thee girl when I was fair and young:  
I found such honey in sweet Edward's tongue,  
As I could never spend one idle walk,  
But Ned and I would piece it out with talk.  
So you my Lord when you have got your Joan,  
No matter let Queen mother be alone.  
Old Nell is mother now and grandmother may,  
The greenest grass doth droop and turn to hay,  
Woo one kind clerk, good Gloster love thy Joan,  
Her heart is thine, her eyes is not her own.  Gl 
This comfort Madam that your grace doth give  
Binds me in double duty whilst I live,  
Would God King Edward see and say no less.  Qu. Eli. 
Gloster I warrant thee upon my life,  
My King vouchsafes his daughter for thy wife,  
Sweet Ned hath not forgot since he did woo,  
The gall of love and all that longs thereto.  Glost. 
Why was your grace so coy to one so kind?  Qu. Eli 
Kind Gloster so methinks in deed,  
It seems he loves his wife no more than needs,  
That sends for us in all the speedy haste,  
Knowing his Queen to be so great with child,  
And make me leave my princely pleasant seats,  
To come into his ruder part of wales.  Gl. 
His highness hath some secret reason why,  
He wisheth you to move from England's pleasant courts  
The Welshmen have of long time suitors been,  
That when the war of rebels sorts an end:  
None might be prince and ruler over them,  
But such a one as was their countryman,  
Which sure I think his grace hath granted them.  Qu. Eli. 
So then it is king Edward's Policy,  
To have his son, for sooth son if it be,  
A Welshman, well welshman it liketh me,  
And here he comes.  Enter Edward Longshanks and his lords, to the Queen and her footmen. Longsh. 
Nell, welcome into Wales,  
How fares my Elinor?  Qu. Eli. 
Near worse, beshrew their hearts 'tis long on.  Long. 
heart's sweet Nell, shrew no hearts,  
Where such sweet saints do dwell  He holds her handfast. Qu. Eli. 
Nay then I see I have my dream, I pray let go,  
You will not will you whether I will or no?  
You are disposed to move me.  Longsh. 
Say any thing but so:  
Once Nell thou gavest me this.  Qu Eli. 
I pray let go, ye are disposed I think.  Long 
I madame very well  Qu. El. 
Let go and be nought I say.  Longsh 
What ails my Nell?  Qu Eli. 
Aye me, what sudden fits is this I prove;  
What grief, what pine lung pain, like youngmen's love,  
That makes me madding tun thus to and fro?  Longsh. 
What, melancholy Nell?  Qu Eli. 
My lord pray let me go.  
Give me sweetwater, why how hot it is?  Glost. 
These be the fits, trouble men's wits.  Long. 
Joan ask thy beauteous Mistress how she doth.  Ione. 
How fares your majesty?  Qu. Eli. 
Joan aggrieved at the heart and angered worse,  
Because I came not right in,  
I think the King comes purposely to spite me,  
My finger itch till I have had my will,  
Proud Edward call in thy Elinor be still,  
It will not be, nor rest I anywhere:  
Till I have set it soundly on his ear.  Ione. 
Is that the matter then let me alone.  Qu. Elin. 
Fie how I fret with grief.  Long. 
Come hither Joan, knowest thou what ails my Queen?  Ione. 
Not I my lord, she longs I think to give your grace a box on there.  Long. 
Nay wench if that be as we'll ear it well,  
What all a mort how doth my dainty Nell?  
Look up sweet love, unkind, not kiss me once?  
That may not be.  Qu. Eli. 
My lord I think you do it for the nonce.  Long. 
Sweet heart one kiss.  Qu. Eli. 
For God's sake let me go.  Long. 
Sweet heart a kiss.  Qu Eli. 
What, whether I will or no? you will not leave? let be I say?  Long. 
I must be better chid.  Qu. Eli 
No will? take that then lusty lord, Sir leave when you are bid.  Long. 
Why so this char is charred.  Gloster. 
A good one by the rood,  Qu. Eli. 
No force no harm.  Long. 
No harm that doth my Elinor any good.  
Learn lords 'gainst you be married men to bow to women's yoke:  
And sturdy though you be you may not stur for every stroke:  
Now my sweet Nell how doth my Queen?  Qu. Eli. 
she vaunts that mighty England hath felt her fist:  
Taken a blow basely at Elinor's hand,  
And vaunt she may good leave being cursed and coy,  
Lack nothing Nell whilst thou hast brought thy lord a lovely boy.  Veniacion 
I am sick good Katherina I pray thee beat hand.  Kath. Spain. 
This sickness I hope will bring King Edward a jolly boy.  Longsh. 
And Katherin who brings me that news shall not go empty handed.  Exite omnes. Enter Mortimor, Lluellen and Meredith. Mortimor. 
Farewell Lluellen with thy loving Nell.  Exit Mortimor. Lluellen. 
Godamercy Mortimor and so farewell.  Mere. 
Farewell and be hanged half Sinon's sapons brood  Lluellen. 
Good words Sir Rice wrongs have best remedy,  
So taken with time patience and policy.  
But where is the Friar who can tell?  Enter Friar. 
That can I master very well,  
And say i'faith what hath befell:  
Must we at once to heaven or hell?  Elinor. 
To heaven friar, friar no fie,  
Such heavy souls mount not so high.  friar lies down. 
Then friar lie thee down and die.  
And if any ask the reason why,  
Answer and say thou canst not tell,  
Unless because thou must to hell.  Eli 
No Friar because thou didst rebel,  
Gentle Sir Rice ring out thy knel.  Lluellen. 
And Maddocke toll thy passing bell. So there lies a straw, and now to the law masters and friends, naked came we in to the world naked are we turned out of the good towns into the wilderness, let me say Mass, methinks we are a handsome Commonwealth, a handful of good-fellows, set a sunning to dog on our own discretion, what say you Sir? we are enough to keep a passage, will you be ruled by me? we'll get the next day from Brecknock the book of Robin Hood, the Friar he shall instruct us in his cause and we'll even here fare and well since the king hath put us amongst the discarding cards, and as it were turned us with deuces and trays out of the deck, every man take his standing on Mannocke deny and wander like irregulars up and down the wilderness, i'll be master of misrule, I'll be Robin Hood that once, cousin Rice thou shalt be little john, and hers Friar David as fit as a die for Friar tuck, now my sweet Nell if you will make up the mess with a good heart for Maid marian and do well with Lluellen under the green wood trees, with as good a will as in the good towns, why plena est curia.  Eli. 
My sweetest love and this my infract fortune could never vaunt her sovereignty, and shouldest thou pass the ford of Phlegeton, or with Leander win the Hellispont in deserts, Oenophrius ever dwell, or build thy bower on Aetna's fiery tops, thy Nell would follow thee and keep with thee, thy Nell would feed with thee and sleep with thee.  Friar. 
O Cupido quantus quantus.  Mere. 
Bravely resolved Madam and then what rests my Lord Robin but we will live and die together like Chamber Britain's, Robin Hood, little john, friar tuck, and Maid marian.  Llue. 
There rests nothing now cousin but that I sell my chain to set us all in green and we'll all play the pioneers to make us a cave and cabin for all weathers.  Eli. 
My sweet Lluellen though this sweet be gall, Patience doth conquer me by out suffering all.  friar. 
Now Mannock deny I hold thee a penny,  
Thou shalt have neither sheep nor goat:  
But Friar David, Will fleeces his coat,  
Where ever lack my Novice jet.  
All is fish with him that comes to net,  
David this year thou payest no debt.  Exeunt ambo. Enter Mortimor solus. Mortimor. 
Why friar is it so plain in deed,  
Lluellen art thou flatly so resolved.  
To roust it out and roust so near the king:  
What shall we have a passage kept in wales:  
For men at arms and knights adventurous?  
By cock Sir Rice I see no reason why,  
Young Mortimor should make one among:  
And play high, parton Mannock dying here,  
For love of his beloved Elinor:  
His Elinor where she this I wot,  
The bitter Northern wind upon the plains:  
The damps that rise from out the quickly plots:  
Nor influence of contagious air should touch,  
But she should court yet with the proudest dames,  
Rich in attire and sumptuous in her fare.  
And take her ease in beds of safest Down,  
Why Mortimor may not thy offers move,  
And win sweet Elinor from Lluellen's love,  
Why pleasant gold and gentle eloquence,  
Have beset the chastest nymphs the fairest dames,  
And vaunts of words, delights of wealth and ease,  
Have made a Nun 10 yield Lluellen's,  
Being set to see the last of desperate chance,  
Why should so fair a star stand in a vale?  
And not be seen to sparkle in the sky,  
It is enough jove change his glittering robes:  
To see Mennosyne and the flies  
Masters have altar gentle Robinhood,  
You are not so well accompanied I hope:  
But if a potter come to play his part,  
You'll give him stripes or welcome good or worse:  
Go Mortimor and make their love holidays,  
The king will take a common 'scuse of thee,  
And who hath more men to attend then Mortimor.  Exit Mortimor. Enter Lluellen, Meredith, friar, Elinor, and their train. They are all clad in green etc. sing etc. Blithe and bonny, the song ended Lluellen speaketh. Lluellen. 
Why so, I see my mates of old,  
All were not lies that Bedlams told:  
Of Robin Hood and little john,  
friar tuck and Maid marian.  friar. 
I for sooth master.  Lluellen. 
How well they couched in forest green,  
Frolic and lively with oaten teen:  
And spent their day in game and glee,  
Lluellen do seek if ought please thee,  
Nor though thy foot be out of town,  
Let thine look black on Edward's Crown.  
Nor think this green is not so gay,  
As was the golden rich array:  
And if sweet Nell my Marrian,  
Trust me as I am Gentle man:  
Thou art as fine in this at tire:  
As fine and fit to my desire,  
As when of Leister's Hall and bower,  
Thou wert the rose and sweetest flowers  
How sayst thou friar say I well?  
For any thing becomes my Nell.  friar. 
Never made man of a woman borne,  
A bullocks tail a blowing horn,  
Nor can an ass's hide disguise,  
A Lion if he ramp and rise.  Eli. 
My Lord, the Friar is wondrous wise.  Lluellen. 
Believe him for he tells no lies,  
But what doth little john devise?  Meredith. 
That Robin Hood beware of spies,  
An aged saying and a true,  
Black will take no other hue.  
He that of old hath been thy toe:  
Will die but will continue so.  friar. 
O masters, whither shall we, doth any living creature know?  Lluellen. 
Rice and I will walk the round,  
friar see about the ground.  Enter Mortimor. 
And spoil what pray is to be found,  
My love I leave within in trust,  
Because I know thy dealing lust:  
Come Potter come and welcome to,  
Fare as we fare and do as we do.  Exit Lluellen & Meredith. friar. 
Nell adieu we go for news,  
A little serves the Friar's lust,  
When nolens volens fast I must,  
Master at all that you refuse.  Mortimor. 
Such a porter would I choose,  
When I mean to blind a skull.  
While Robin walk with little Iohn,  
The Friar will lick his marrian.  
So will the Porter if he can.  Eli. 
Now Friar sith your lord is gone,  
And you and I are left alone,  
What can the Friar do or say,  
To pass the weary time away?  
Weary God wot poor wench to thee,  
That never thought these days to see.  Mortimor. 
Break heart and split mine eyes in twain.  
Never let me hear those words again.  friar. 
What can the Friar do or say  
To pass the weary time away:  
More dare I do then he dare say,  
Because he doubts to have away.  Eli. 
Do somewhat friar say or sing,  
That may to sorrows so lace bring,  
And I meanwhile will Garlands make,  Morti. 
O Mortimor were it for thy sake,  
A Garland were the happiest stake:  
That ever this hand unhappy drew.  friar. 
Mistress shall I tell you true,  
I have a song I learned it long ago,  
I wot not whether you'll like it well or ill,  
'tis short and sweet but somewhat brolde before.  
Once let me sing it and I ask no more.  Eli. 
What Friar will you so indeed,  
Agrees it somewhat with your need?  friar. 
Why mistress shall I sing my creed,  Eli. 
That's fitter of the two at need.  Morti. 
O wench how mayst thou hope to speed?  friar. 
O mistress out it goes.  
Look what comes next the Friar throes.  The Friar sits along and sings. Morti. 
Such a sitting whoever saw,  
An eagle's bird of a Jack daw.  Eli. 
So Sir is this all?  Morti. 
Sweet heart here's no more.  Eli. 
How now good fellow more indeed,  
By one then was before.  friar. 
How now the devil in steed of a ditty.  Morti. 
friar a ditty come late from the city.  
To ask some pity of this lass so pretty:  
Some pity sweet mistress I pray you.  Eli. 
How now friar where are we now and you play not the man?  friar. 
Friend Copes mate, you that come late from the City,  
To ask some pity of this lass so pretty,  
In likeness of a doleful ditty,  
Hang me if I do not pay ye.  Mortimor. 
O friar you grow choleric, well you'll  
Have no man to Court your mislers but yourself,  
On my word i'll take you down a bottom hole,  Friar. 
Ye talk, ye talk child.  Enter Lluellen and Meredith. Lluellen. 
'tis well potter you fight in a good quarrel,  Meredith. 
Mas this blade will hold let me see then Friar.  friar. 
Mines for mine own turn I warrant, give his Tools, rise and let's to it, but no and you love me, I scorn the odds I can tell you, see fair play and you be Gentlemen.  Lluellen. 
marry shall we Friar, let us see, be their staves of a length good, so now let us deem of the matter friar and Potter without more clatter I have cast your water, and see as deep into your desire, as he that had dived every day into your bosom, O friar will nothing serve your turn but Larks.  
Are such five birds for such course Clerks,  
None but my Marian can serve your turn.  Eli. 
Cast water, for the house will burn.  friar. 
O mistress mistress flesh is frail,  
Ware when the sign is in the tail,  
Mighty is love and doth prevail:  Lluellen. 
Therefore friar shalt thou not fail,  
But mightily your foe assail:  
And thrash this Potter with thy flail,  
And Potter never rave nor rail,  
Not ask questions what I ail:  
But take this tool and do not quail,  
But thrash this friars russet coat:  They take the flails. 
And make him sing a dastards note,  
And cry Peccaus miserere David,  
In amo amavi: go to.  Mortimor. 
Strike, strike.  friar. 
Strike Potter be thou lief or loath,  
And if you'll not strike i'll strike for both.  Potter strikes. 
He must needs go that the devil drives  
Then Friar beware of other men's wives.  friar strikes. 
I wish master proud Potter the Devil have my soul:  
But I'll. make my flail circumscribe your noll.  Lluellen. 
Why so, now it cottons, now the game begins.  
One knave currieth another for his sins.  friar kneels. 
O master short en my offences in mine eyes.  
If this Crucifige do not suffice,  
Send me to Heaven in a hempen sacrifice.  friar kneels. 
O masters masters let this be warning:  
The Friar hath infected me with his learning.  Lluellen. 
villain's do not touch the forbidden hair now to delude, or to dishonour me.  friar. 
O master, quae nagata sunt grata sunt.  Lluellen. 
Rice every day thus shall it be, we'll have a thrashing set among the Friars, and he that of these challengers lays on slowest load, be thou at hand Rice to gore him with thy good.  friar. 
A Potter Potter the Friar may rue,  
That ever this day this our quarrel he knew:  
My pate addle, mine arms black and blue.  Potter. 
Ah friar who may his fate's force eschew,  
I think Friar you are prettily schooled,  Friar. 
And I think the Potter is handsomely cold,  Exeunt ambo. Morti. 
No Martimor here that Eternal fire,  
That burns and flames with brands of hot desire:  
Why Martimor, why doest thou not discover,  
thyself her knight her liegeman and her lover?  Exit Martimor. Enter john Balliol, King of Scots with his train. 
Lords of Albana, and my peers in France.  
Since Balliol is invested in his rights,  
And wears the royal Scottish Diadem,  
Time is to rouse him that the world may wot,  
Scotland disdains to carry England's yoke.  
Therefore my friend thus put in readiness,  
Why slack we time to greet the English king?  
With resolute message to let him know our minds,  
Lord Versses though thy faith and oath be ta'en,  
To follow Balliol's arms for Scotland's right,  
Yet is thy heart to England's honour knit,  
Therefore in spite of England and thyself,  
Bear thou defiance proudly to thy king,  
Tell him Albania finds heart and hope,  
To shake of England's tyranny be time,  
To rescue Scotland's honour with his sword,  
Lord Bruce see cast about Versses' neck,  
A strangling halter that he mind his haste.  
How farest thou Versses wilt thou do this message?  Versses. 
Although no common post, yet for my king  
I will to England maugre England's might,  
And do mine errand boldly as becomes,  
Albeit I honour English Edward's name,  
And hold this slavish contemnment to scorn.  Balioll. 
Then hie away as swift as swallow flies,  
And meet me on our roads on England's ground,  
We there think of thy message and thy haste.  Sound Trumpets. Exit Balioll. Enter King Edward Longshanks, Edmund Duke of Lancaster, Gloster, Sussex, David, Crespall booted from Northam. Longsh. 
Now have I leisure Lords to bid you welcome into Wales.  
Welcome sweet Edmund to christian thy young nephew  
And welcome Cressingham, give me thy hand,  
But Sussex what became of Mortimor?  
We have not seen the man this many a day.  Sussex. 
Before your highness rid from hence to Northam.  
Sir Roger was a suitor to your Grace,  
Touching fair Elinor Lluellen's love,  
And so belike denied with discontent,  
'a discontinues from your Royal presence.  Longsh. 
Why Sussex said we not for Elinor,  
So she would leave whom she had loved too long,  
She might have favour with my Queen and me,  
But man, her mind about her fortune mounts,  
And that's a cause she fails in her accounts.  
But go with me my lord of Lancaster,  
We will go see my beauteous lovely Queen,  
That hath enriched me with a goodly boy.  King Edward, Edmund, and Gloster, goes into the the queen's Chamber, the queen's Tent opens, she is discovered in her bed, attended by Mary Duchess of Lancaster Jone of Acon her daughter & the Queen dandles his young son. 
Longsh Ladies by your leave, how doth my Nell, mine own, my love, my life, my heart, my dear, my dove, my Queen, my wife.  
Eli. Ned art thou come, sweet Ned welcome my joy.  
Thy Nell presents thee with a lovely boy.  
Kiss him, and christian him after thine own name.  
hay ho whom do I see, my lord of Lancaster, welcome heartily.  Lancaster. 
I thank your grace, sweet Nell well met withal.  Q. Eli. 
Brother Emund hers a kinsman of yours you must need, be acquainted.  Edmund 
A goodly boy God bless him, give me your hand Sir, you are welcome into Wales.  Qu. Eli. 
Brother there's a fist I warrant you will hold  
Mace as fast as ever did father or grandfather before him.  Longsh. 
But tell in now leapt in lily bands,  
How with my Queen, my lovely boy it stands:  
After thy journey and these child bed pains.  Qu. Eli. 
Sick mine own Ned thy Nell for thy company:  
That lured her with thy lies all so far,  
To follow thee unwieldy in thy war,  
But I forgive thee Ned my limbs' delight:  
So thy young son thou see be bravely dight,  
And in Carnarvan christened royally.  
Sweet love let him be leapt most curiously,  
He is thine own, as true as he is thine,  
Take order then that he be passing fine.  Longsh 
My lovely Lady let that care be less,  
For my young son the country will I feast:  
And have him borne as bravely to the font;  
As ever yet king's son to Christening went.  
Lack thou no precious thing to comfort thee,  
De rear then England's Diadem unto me.  Qu. Eli. 
Thanks gentle Lord, nurse rock the Cradle, fie:  
The King so near, and here the boy to cry?  
Joan take him up and sing a Lullaby.  Longsh. 
'tis well believe me wench godamercy Joan,  Edmund. 
she learns my Lord to lull a young one of her own.  Qu. Eli. 
Give me some drink.  Longsh. 
Drink Nectar my sweet Nell,  
Worthy for seat in heaven with jove to dwell.  Eli. 
Gramercis Ned, now well remembered yet,  
I have a suit sweet lord, but you must not deny it,  
Whereas my Lord of Gloster, good Clare mine host, my guide,  
Good Ned let Joan of Acon be his bride,  
Assure yourself that they are thoroughly wooed.  Longsh. 
God send the King be taken in the mood,  
Than Niece 'tis like that you shall have a husband,  
Come hither Gloster hold give her thy hand,  
Take her, sole daughter to the Queen of England.  Longsh. gives her to Gloster. 
For news he brought Nell of my young son,  
I promised him as much as I have done.  Gloster and jone hand in hand. 
We humbly thank your majesty.  Edmund. 
Much joy may them betide,  
A gallant bridegroom and a princely bride.  Longsh. 
Now say sweet Queen what doth my Lady crave?  
Tell me what name shall this young Welshman have,  
Borne Prince of wales by Cambria's full consent.  Eli. 
Edward the name, that doth me well content,  Longsh. 
Then Edward of Carnarvan shall he be,  
And Prince of Wales christened in royalty.  D. Edmund 
My Lord I think the Queen would take a nap,  Ione. 
Nurse take the child and hold in your lap,  Longsh. 
Farewell good Joan be careful of my Queen.  
sleep Nell, the fairest Swan mine eyes have seen.  They close the Tent. D. Edmund. 
I had forgot-to ask your Majesty.  
How do you with the abbeys here in Wales,  Longsh. 
As kings with rebels Mun, our right prevails,  
We have good Robin Hood and little john,  
The Friar and the good Maid; marrian.  
Why our Lluellen is a mighty man.  Gloster. 
Trust me my Lord, methinks 'twere very good  
That some good fellows went and scoured the wood,  
And take in hand to cudgel Robin Hood.  
I think the Friar for all his lusty looks,  
Nor Robin rule with their gleams and hooks,  
But would be quickly driven to the nooks.  David. 
I can assure your highness what I know,  
The false Lluellen will not run nor go  
Or give an inch of ground come man for man,  
Nor that proud rebel called little john,  
To him that wields the massiest sword of England,  Gloster. 
Welshman, how wilt thou that we understand,  
But for Lluellen, David I deny,  
England hath men will make Lluellen fly,  
Maugre his beard and hide him in a hole,  
Weary of England's dints and manly dole.  D. Edm. 
Gloster, grow not so hot in England's right,  
That paints his honour out in every sight.  Long. 
By Gis fair Lords ere many days be passed,  
England shall give this Robin Hood his breakfast.  
David, be secret friend to that I say,  
And if I use thy skill thou knowest the way.  
Where this proud Robin and his yeomen roam.  David. 
I do my Lord and blindfold thither can I run.  Longsh. 
David enough, as I am a Gentleman,  
I'll have one merry flirt with little john,  
And Robin Hood, and his Maid marian,  
Be thou my counsel and my company,  
And thou mayst England's resolution see.  Enter Sussex before the four Barons of Wales. Sussex. 
May it please your majesty, here are 4. good Squires of the Cantréds where they do dwell, come in the name of the whole country to gratulate unto your highness all your good fortunes, and by me offer their most humble service to your young son their Prince, whom they most heartily beseech God to bless with long life and honour.  Longsh. 
Well said Sussex I pray bid them come tear,  
Sir Dan trust me, this is kindly done of your country me.  David. 
Villains, Traitors to the ancient glory and renown of Cambria, Morris Vaughan art thou there, and thou proud Lord of Anglesey.  They kneel down. Enter Sussex with the four barons of Wales, with the Mantle of frise. Mantle barons. 
The poor country of Cambria by us unworthy messengers, gratulates to your majesty the birth of your young son Prince of Wales, and in this poor priest express their most zealous duty and affection, which with all humbleness we present to your highness sweet and sacred hands.  Longsh 
Gramercis Barons for your gifts and good wills, by this means my boy shall wear a Mantle of countries weaving to keep him warm, and live for England's honour and Cambria's good, I shall not need I trust courteously to invite you, I doubt not Lords but you will be all in readiness to wait on your young Prince and do him honour at his christening.  Sussex. 
The whole country of Cambria round about all well horsed, and attended on both men and women in their best array, are come down to do service of love and honour to our late born Prince, your majesties son and honey, the men and women of Sowdone especially have sent in great abundance of cattle & corn enough by computation for your highness household a whole month and more.  Long. 
We thank them all, and will present our Q with these courtesies and presents bestowed on her young Son, and greatly account you for our friends.  Exite 4 Barons. The Queen's Tent opens, the King his brother the Earl of Gloster enter. Elinor. 
Who talketh there?  Longsh. 
A friend Madam.  Ione. 
Madam it is the King.  Elinor. 
Welcome my Lord heigh ho what have we there?  Longsh. 
Madam the country in all kindness and duty recommend their service and good will to your son and in token of their pure good will, presents him by us with a mantle of freeze richly lined to keep him warm,  Q. Elinor 
A mantle of freeze, fie fie for God's sake let me here no more of it and if you love me, fie my lord is this the wisdom and kindness of the country? now I commend me to them all, and if Wales have no more wit or manners, then to clothe a king's son in freeze I have a mantle in store for my boy, that shall I trow make him shine like the son, and presume the streets where he comes.  Longsh. 
In good time Madam, he is your own, lap him as you list, but I promise thee Nell I would not for ten thousand pounds the country should take unkindness at thy words.  Q. Elinor. 
'tis no marvel sure, you have been royally received at their hands, no Ned, but that thy Nell doth want of her will, her boy should glister like the summers Sun in robes as rich as jove when he triumphs.  
His pap should be of precious Nectar made,  
His food Ambrosia no earthly woman's milk,  
Sweet fires of Cinnamon to open him by,  
The Graces on his cradle should attend,  
Venus should make his bed and wait on him,  
And Phoebus' daughter sing him still asleep.  
Thus would I have my boy used as divine,  
Because he is king Edward's son and mine.  
And do you mean to make him up in freeze,  
For God sake lay it up charily, and perfume it against winter, it will make him a goodly warm Christmas coat.  Longsh. 
Ah Mun my brother, dearer than my life,  
How this proud honour slays my heart with grief.  
Sweet Queen how much I pity the effects,  
This Spanish pride 'grees not with England's prince,  
Mild is the mind where honour builds his bower,  
And yet is earthly honour but a flower.  
Fast to those looks are all my fancy's tide,  
Pleased with thy sweetness, angry with thy pride.  Qu. Eli. 
Fie fie methinks I am not where I should be,  
Or at the least I am not where I would be.  Longsh. 
what wants my Queen to perfect her content,  
But ask and have the King will not repent.  Qu. Eli. 
Thanks gentle Edward, lords have at you then,  
Have at you all long bearded Englishmen,  
Have at you lords and ladies when I crave,  
To give your English pride a Spanish brave.  Longsh. 
What means my Queen Gloster, this is a Spanish fit.  Qu. Eli. 
Ned thou hast granted and canst not revoke it.  Longsh. 
Sweet Queen say on my word shall be my deed.  Qu. Elinor. 
Then shall my words make many a bosom bleed.  
Reed Ned thy queen's request leapt up in rhyme,  
And say thy Nell had skill to choose her time.  Read the paper Rice. 
The pride of Englishmens long hair,  
Is more than England's Queen can bear:  
Women's right breast cut them off all,  
And let the great tree perish with the small.  Longsh. 
What means my lovely Elinor by this?  Qu. Elinor. 
Not be denied for my request it is.  
The rhyme is, that men's beards and women's breasts be cut off etc.  D. Edmund. 
Gloster, an old said saying, he that grants all is asked,  
Is much harder than Hercules' task.  Glost. 
Were the King so mad as the Queen is wood,  
Here were an end of England's good.  Long. 
My word is pall I am well agreed,  
Let men's beards milt and women's bosoms bleed.  
Call forth my Barbers, Lords we'll first begin.  Enter two Barbers. 
Come sirrah cut me close unto the chin,  
And round me even seest thou by a dish,  
Leave not a look my Queen shall have her wish.  Qu. Eli. 
What Ned. those locks that ever pleased thy  
Were her desire, where her delight doth dwell, (Nell?  
Wilt thou deface that silver labyrinth?  
More orient than pimpled hyacinth,  
Sweet Ned, thy sacred person ought not droop,  
Though my command make other gallants stoop.  Longsh. 
Madam, pardon me and pardon all,  
No justice but the great runs with the small.  
Tell me good Gloster art thou not afeard?  Gloster. 
No my Lord but resolved to lose my beard.  Longsh. 
Now Madam if you purpose to proceed,  
To make so many guiltless Ladies bleed.  
Here must the law begin, sweet Elinor at thy breast,  
And stretch itself with violence to the rest.  
False Princes ought no other do,  
Fair lady, than they would be done unto.  Qu. Eli. 
What logic call you this, doth Edward mock his love?  Longsh. 
No Nell he doth as best in honour doth behove,  
And prays thee gentle Queen, and let my praies move,  
Leave these ungentle thoughts, put on a milder mind,  
Sweet looks, not lofty, civil mood becomes a woman's kind:  
And live as being dead, and buried in the ground,  
Thou mayst for affability and honour be renowned.  Qu. Elia. 
Nay and you preach, I pray my lord begone,  
The child will cry and trouble you anon.  The Nurse closeth the Tent. Quo semel est imbutarecens servabit odorem Testa din. L. Maris. 
Proud incest in the cradle of disdain,  
Bred up in court of pride, brought up in Spain,  
Dost thou command him coily from thy sight?  
That is the star, the glory of thy sight.  Longsh. 
O could I with the riches of my crown,  
Buy better thoughts for my renowned Nell,  
Thy mind sweet Queen should be as beautiful,  
As is thy face, as is thy features all.  
Fraught with pure honour, treasure, and enriched,  
With virtues and glory incomparable.  
Ladies about her Majesty, see that the Queen your mother know not so much, but at any hand our pleasure is, that our young son be in this Mantle borne to his Christening, for special reasons is thereto moving, from the Church as best it please your women's wits to devise, yet sweet Joan see this faithfully performed, and hear you daughter, look you be not last up when this day comes, lest Gloster find another Bride in your steed, David go with me.  Gloste 
she riseth early Joan, that beguileth thee of a Gloster.  Edmund. 
believe him not sweet Niece, women can speak smooth for advantage.  Ione. 
We men do you mean my good uncle?  
Well be the accent where it will women are women, I will believe you for as great a matter as this comes to my lord.  Glost. 
Gramercies sweet lady, & habebis fidei mercedem contrà.  Exit. Enter the Novice and his company to give the Queen Music at her Tent. Novice. 
Come fellows, cast yourselves even round in a string, a ring I would say, come merely on my word for the Queen is most liberal, and if you will please her well she will pay you royally, so lawful to brave well thy british lustily, to solace our good Queen God save her Grace, and give our young Prince a carpell in their kind, come on come on set your crowds and beat your heads together and behave you handsomely.  Here they sing. Enter the Friar David alone. friar 
I have a budget in my nose this gay morning, and now will I try how clerkly the Friar can behave himself, 'tis a common fashion to get gold which stand, deliver your purses, Friar davies will once in his days get money by wit, there is a rich Farmer should pass this ways to receive a round sum of money, if he come to me the money is mine, and the law shall take no vantage, I will cut off the law as the hangman would cut a man down when he hath shaken his heels half an hour under the gallows, well I must take some pains for this gold, and have at it.  The Friar spreads the lappet of his gown and falls to dice. Enter a Farmer. Farmer. 
'tis an old said saying I remember I red it in Cato's Pueriles, that Cantabit vaenus coram latrone viator. A man's purse penniless may sing before a thief, true as I have not one penny, which makes me so partly pass through these thickets, but indeed I receive a hundred marks, and all the care is how I shall pass again, well. I resolved either to ride twenty miles about, or else to be so well accompanied that I will not care for these rufflers.  friar. 
Did ever man play with such uncircumcised hands, since ace to eleven and lose the chance.  Farmer. 
God speed good fellow, why chafest thou so fast, there's nobody will win thy money from thee.  friar. 
Sounds you offer me injury Sir to speak in my cast.  Farmer. 
The Friar undoubtedly is lunatic, I pray thee good fellow leave chasting, and get some warm drink to comfort thy brains.  friar. 
A 'las Sir I am not lunatic, 'tis not so well, for I have lost my money which is far worse, I have lost five gold Nobles to S Francis, and if I knew where to meet with his receiver I would pay him presently.  Farmer. 
Wouldest thou speak with S. Francis receiver?  Friar. 
O Lord, I Sir full gladly.  Farmer. 
Why man I am S. Francis receiver, if you would have any thing with him.  friar. 
Are you S. Francis receiver, jesus, jesus, are you S. Francis receiver, and how does all?  Farmer. 
I am his receiver, and am now going to him, abids S. Thomas a Waterings to breakfast this morning to a calves head and bacon.  friar. 
Good Lord Sir I beseech you carry him these five Noble, and tell him I deal honestly with him as if he were here present.  Farmer. 
I will of my word and honesty friar, and so farewell.  friar. 
Farewell S. Francis receiver even heartily, well now the Friar is out or cash five Nobles, God knows how he shall come into cash again, but I must to it again, there's nine for your holiness and six for me.  Enter Lluellen, Meredith, Potter, with there prisoners. Lluellen 
Come on my hearts, bring forth your prisoners and let us see what store of fish is there in their pursenets, Friar why chafest thou man nobody will offer thee any foul plate I warrant thee.  David. 
O good master give me leave, my hand is in a little, I trust I shall recover my losses.  Lluellen. 
The Friar is mad, but let him alone with us devise, and now to you my masters, peddler, Priest and Piper, throw down your budgets in the meanwhile, and when the Friar is at leisure he shall tell you what you shall trust to.  peddler. 
Alas sir I have but 3. pence in the corner of my shoe.  Meredith. 
Never a shoulder of Mutton Piper in your Taber, but soft here comes company.  Enter Longshanks, David, Farmer. Farmer. 
Alas gentlemen if you love yourselves do not venture through this mountain, here's such a coil with Robin Hood and his rabble that every cross in my purse trembles for fear.  Longsh. 
Honest man as I said to thee before, conduct us through this wood, and if thou be'st robbed, or have any violence offered thee, as I am a Gentleman I will repay it thee again.  David. 
How much money hast thou about thee?  Farmer. 
Faith Sir a hundred marks, I received it even now at Breaknocke, but out alas we are undone, yonder is Robin Hood and all the strong thieves in the mountain I have no hope left but your honours assurance  Longsh. 
Fear not I will be my words master.  friar. 
Good master and if you love the Friar, give aim a while I you desire: and as you like of my devise, so love him that holds the dise.  Farmer 
What Friar art thou still labouring so hard, will you have any thing more to S. Francis?  friar. 
Good lord are you here sweet S. Francis receiver, how doth his holiness and all his good family?  Farmer. 
In good health faith friar, hast thou any Nobles for him?  friar. 
You know the dice are not partial and Saint Francis were ten S. they will favour him no more than they would favour the Devil if he play at dice, in very truth my friend they have favoured the Friar, and I have won a C. marks of S. Francis, come Sir I pray. sirrah draw it over I know sirrah he is a good man and never deceives none.  Farmer 
Draw it over, what meanest thou by that?  friar. 
Why in numeratis pecuniis legem pone, pay me my winnings.  Far. 
What ass is this, should I pay thee thy winnings?  friar. 
Why art not thou sirrah Saint Francis received?  Farmer. 
Indeed I do receive for Saint Francis.  friar. 
Then we make you pay for S. Francis that's flat.  Bustle on both sides. Farmer. 
Help help I am robbed I am robbed.  Longsh. 
Villain you wrong the man, hands off.  friar. 
masters I beseech you leave this brawling and give me leave to speak, so it is I went to dice with S. Francis & lost five Nobles, by good fortune his Cashier came by received it of me in ready cash. I being very desirous to try my fortune further, played still, and as the dice not being bound prentice to him or any man, favoured me, I drew a hand and won a hundred marks, now I refer it to your judgements whither the Friar is to seek his winnings.  Longsh. 
marry Friar the Farmer must and shall pay thee honestly ere he pass.  Farmer. 
Shall I sir, why will you be content to pay half a you promise me.  Longsh. 
I Farmer if you had been robbed of it, but if you be a gamester I'll take no charge of you I.  Farmer. 
Alas I am undone.  Lluellen. 
So sir friar, now you have gathered up your winnings I pray you stand up and give the messengers their charge that Robin Hood may receive his toll.  friar. 
And shall my Lord. Our thrice renowned Lluellen Prince of Wales and Robin Hood of the great mountain, doth will and command all passengers at the sight of Richard servant unto me Friar Davidep tuck to lay down their weapons, and quietly to yield for custom towards the maintenance of his highness wars, the half of all such gold, silver, money, and money worth, o' the said messenger hath then about him, but if he conceal any part or parcel of the same, then shall he forfeit all that he possesseth at that present, and this sentence is irrevocable confirmed by our Lord Lluellen Prince of Wales, and Robin Hood of the great mountains.  Lluellen. 
So vail your budgets to Robin of the mountain, but what art thou that disdainest to pay this custom, as if thou scornest the greatness of the prince of Wales?  Longsh. 
Faith Robin thou seemest to be a good fellow there's my bag, half is mine and half is thine, but let's to it if thou darest man for man, to try who shall have the whole.  Lluellen. 
Why thou speakest as thou shouldst speak. My masters on pain of my displeasure depart the place and leave us two to ourselves, I must lope his Longshanks. for i'll ear to a pair of Longshanks.  Longsh. 
They are fair marks sir, and I must defend as I may, David be gone, hold here my hearts, long legs gives you this amongst you to spend blows one with another, Davie now Davie days are almost come at end.  Mortim. 
But Mortimor this sight is strange, stay thou in some corner to see what will befall in this battle.  Edward. 
Now Robin of the wood, alias Robin Hood, be it known to your worship by these presents, that the Longshanks which you aim at, have brought the king of England into these mountains, to use Lluellen, and to crack a blade with his man that supposeth himself Prince of Wales.  Lluellen. 
What Sir King, welcome to Cambria's, what foolish Edward darest thou endanger thy life to travail these mountains, art thou so foolish hardy as to combat with the Prince of Wales?  Edward. 
What I dare thou seest, what I can perform thou shalt shortly know, I think thee a Gentleman, and therefore hold no scorn to fight with thee.  Lluellen. 
No Edward I am as good a man as thyself.  Longsh. 
That shall I try.  They fight, and David takes his brother's part, and Mortimor the Kings. Edward. 
Halloe Edward how are thy senses confounded, what Davy is it possible thou shouldest be false to England?  Davy Edward 
I am true to Wales, and so have been friends since my birth, and that shall the King of England know to his cost.  Lluellen. 
What Potter, did not I charge you to begone with your fellows?  Mortimor. 
No Traitor no Potter I, but Mortimor the Earl of March, whose coming to these woods, is to deceive thee of thy love, and reserved to save my sovereign's life.  David. 
Upon them brother let them not breath.  The King hath Lluellen down, and David hath Mortimor down. Longsh. 
Villain thou diest, God and my right hath prevailed.  David. 
Base Earl now doth David triumph in thine over throw, aye is me Lluellen at the feet of Longshanks.  Longsh. 
What Mortimor under the sword of such a Traitor?  Mortimor. 
Brave King run thy sword up to the hilts into the blood of the rebel.  Longsh. 
O Mortimor thy life is dearer to me then millions of rebels.  David. 
Edward relieve my brother and Mortimor lives.  Longsh. 
I villain thou knowest too well how dear I hold my Mortimor, rise man and assure thee, and the hate I bear to thee is long in respect of the deadly hatred I bear to that notorious rebel.  Mortimor. 
Away, his sight to me is like the sight of a Cockatrice, villain I go to revenge me on thy treason, and to make thee pattern to the world, of mountains treason, falsehood and ingratitude.  Exit Mortimor. David. 
Brother 'a chafes, but hard was your hap to be overmastered by the coward.  Lluellen. 
No coward David, his courage is like to the Lion, and were it not that rule and sovereignty sets us at jar, I could love and honour the man for his valour.  David. 
But the Potter, oh the villain will never out of my mind whilst I live, and I will late to be revenged on his villainy.  Lluellen. 
Well David what will be shall be, therefore casting these matters out of our heads, David thou art welcome to Cambria, let us in and be merry after this cold cooling, and to prepare to strengthen ourselves against the last threatenings.  Exeunt ambo. After the Christening and marriage done, the heralds having attended, they pass over, the bride is led by two Noble men, Edmund of Lancaster, and the earl of Sussex, and the Bishop. Gloster. 
Welcome Joan Countess of Gloster, to Gilbert de Clare for ever, God give them joy, cousin Gloster, let us now go visit the King and Queen, and present there Majesties with their young son, Edward Prince of Wales.  Then all pass in their order to the king's pavilion, the king sits in his Tent with his pages about him. Bishop. 
we represent your highness most humbly, with your young son Edward of Carnarvan Prince of Wales.  Sound Trumpets. Omnes. 
God save Edward of Carnarvan prince of Wales.  Longsh. 
kisses them both Edward Prince of Wales God bless thee with long life and honour, welcome Joan cOUNTESS of Gloster, God bless thee and thine for ever. lords let us visit my Queen and wife, whom we will at once present with a Son and daughter honoured to her desire.  Sound Trumpets, they all march to the Chamber. Bishop speaks to her in her bed. 
we humbly present your Majesty with your young son Edward of Carnarvan Prince of Wales.  Sound Trumpets. Omnes. 
God save Edward of Carnarvan prince of wales:  Queen Elinor she kisses him. 
Gramercis Bishop, hold take that to buy thee a Rochelle, welcome Welshman. here Nurse open him and have him to the fire for God sake, they have roused him, and wash them through and that be good, and welcome Joan Countess of Gloster, God bless thee with long life, honour, and heart's ease.  
I am now as good as my word Gloster, she is thine make much of her gentle Earl.  Longsh. 
Now my sweet Nell what more commandeth my Queen that nothing may want to perfect her contentment.  Q Eli. 
Nothing sweet Ned, but pray my king to feast the Lords and ladies royally, and thanks a thousand times good men and women, to you all, for this duty and honour done to your Prince.  Longsh. 
Master Bridegroom by old custom this is your waiting day, Sir David you may command an ample welcome in our court, for your countrymen: brother Edmund revel it now or never for honour of your England's son, Gloster now like a brave Bridegroom marshal this many, and set these Lords and Ladies to dancing, so shall you fulfil the old English proverb, us merry in Hall when beards wag all.  After the show, and the King and Queen with all the lords and ladies in place, Longshanks speaketh. 
What tidings brings Versses to our court?  Enter in Versses with a halter about his neck. Versses 
Tidings to make thee tremble English king.  Longsh. 
Me tremble boie? must not be news from Scotland, can once make English Edward stand aghast.  Versses. 
Balliol hath chosen at this time to stir,  
To rouse him Lion like and cast the yoke:  
That Scots ingloriously have borne from thee,  
And all the predecessors of thy line:  
And make his rods to reobtain his rights,  
And for his homage sends thee all this despite.  Edmund. 
Why how now princocks pratest thou to a king?  Versses. 
I do my message truly from my king,  
This sword and target chide in louder terms,  
I bring defiance from king john Balliol,  
To English Edward and his Barons all.  Longsh. 
M●ie so methinks thou defiest me with a witness.  Versses. 
Balliol my king in Berwick makes his Court,  
His camp he spreads upon the sandy plain,  
And dares thee to the battle in his right.  Edmund. 
What Court and Camp in Englishmens despite?  Longsh. 
Hold messenger, commend me to thy King,  
Wear thou my chain and carry this to him,  
Greet all his rout of Rebels more or less,  
Tell them such shameful end will hit them all,  
And wend with this as resolutely back,  
As thou to England broughst thy Scottish braves,  
Tell then disdainfully Balliol from us,  
we'll rouse him from his hold, and make him soon  
dislodge his Camp, and take his walled town.  
Say what I bid thee Versses to his teeth.  
And earn this favour and a better thing.  Versses. 
Yes King of England whom my heart beloves,  
Think as I promised him to brave thee hear,  
So shall I bid john Balliol base from thee.  Longsh. 
So shalt thou earn my chain and favour Versses,  
And carry him this token that thou send'st:  
Why now is England's harvest ripe,  
Barons now may you reap the rich renown,  
That under warlike colours springs in field,  
And grows where ensigns won upon the plains.  
False Balliol Warwick arwicke is no hold of propose,  
To shroud thee from the strength of Edward's arm,  
No Scot thy treason's fear shall make the breach,  
For England's pure renown to enter one.  Omnes. 
amain amain upon these treacherous Scottes.  
amain say all, upon these treacherous Scots,  Longsh. 
While we with Edmund, Gloster, and the rest,  
With speedy journey is gather up our forces,  
And beat these braving Scots from England's bounds,  
Mortimor thou shalt take the rout in task,  
That revel here and spoil fair Cambria,  
My Queen when she is strong and well a foot,  
Shall post to London and repast her there,  
Then God shall send us happily all to meet,  
And joy the honours of our victories,  
Take vantage of our foes and see the time,  
Keep still our hold, our fight yet on the plain,  
Balliol I come proud Balliol and ingrate,  
Persuaded to chase thy men from England's gate.  Exit Edward King. Enter Balliol with his train. Balioll. 
Princes of Scotland and my loving friends.  
Whose necks are overwearied with the yoke.  
And servile bondage of these Englishmen,  
List up your horns, and with your brazen hooves,  
Spur at the honour of your Enemies.  
'tis not ambitious thoughts of private rule,  
Hath forced your king to take on him these Arms,  
'tis countries cause, it is the commons good,  
Of us and of our brave posterity, to arms, to arms.  
Versses by this hath told the King our minds,  
And he hath braved proud England to the proof,  
We will remunerate his resolution,  
With gold, with glory, and with kingly gifts.  Lord. 
By sweet Saint jerem Versses will not spare,  
To tell his message to the English King:  
And beard the jolly Longshanks to his face,  
Were he the greatest Monarch in the world,  
And here he comes his halter makes him haste.  Enter Versses. 
Long live my lord the rightful King of Scots.  Balioll. 
Welcome Versses, what news from England?  
Like to the measure of Scotland's King?  Versses. 
Versses my Lord in terms like to himself,  
Like to the messenger of Scottish King,  
Defied the Pears of England and their lords,  
That all his Barons trembles at my threats,  
And Longshanks himself as daunted and amazed,  
Gazed on my face not witting what to say:  
Till rousing up he shaked his threating hair,  
Versses quoth he take thou King Edward's chain,  
Upon condition, thou a message do,  
To Balliol false, perjured Balliol.  
For in these terms he bade me greet your Grace,  
And gave this halter to your excellences,  
I took the chain and gave your Grace the rope.  Balioll. 
You took the chain and give my Grace the rope,  
Lay hold on him, why miscreant recreant,  
And darest thou bring a halter to thy King?  
But I will quite thy pain, and in that chain,  
Upon a silver Gallows shalt thou hang,  
That honoured with a golden rope of England,  
And a silver Gibbet of Scotland,  
Thou mayst hang in the air for fowls to feed upon,  
And men to wonder at, away with him away.  After the sight of john Balliol is done, enter Mortimor pursuing of the Rebels. Mort. 
Strike up the drum, follow, pursue and chase,  
Follow, pursue, spare not the proudest he,  
That havocs England's sacred royalty.  Exit Morti. Then make the proclamation upon the walls. Sound Trumpets. Enter Queen alone. 
Now fits the time to purge our melancholy, and be revenged upon this London Dame.  
Katherina.  Enter Katherina. 
At hand Madam.  Queen. 
Bring forth our London Maris here.  Kather. 
I will Madam.  Queen. 
Now Nell bethink thee of some tortures for the Dame:  
And purge thy choler to the uttermost,  Enter Maris and Katherine. 
Now mistress Maris you have attendance urged,  
And therefore to requite your courtesy,  
Our mind is to bestow an office on you straight.  Maris. 
myself, my life, and service mighty Queen, are humbly at your majesties command.  Queen. 
Then mistress Maris say whether will you be our Nurse or laundress.  Maris. 
Then may it please your Majesty, to entertain your handmaid for your Nurse, she will attend the cradle carefully.  Queen. 
O no Nurse, the Babe needs no great rocking, it can lull itself, Katherina bind her in the chair, and let me see how she'll become a Nurse, so now Katherin draw forth her breast and let the Serpent suck his fill, why so now she is a Nurse, suck on sweet Babe.  Maris. 
Ah Queen sweet Queen, seek not my blood to spill:  
For I shall die before this Adder have his fill.  Queen. 
Die or die not, my mind is fully pleased,  
Come Katherina to London now will we,  
And leave our Maris with her nursery.  Kath. 
Farewell sweet Maris look unto the Babe.  Exeunt Queen and Kath. Maris. 
Farewell proud Queen the Author of my death,  
The scourge of England and to English dames:  
Ah husband sweet john Bearmber Maior of London,  
Ah didst thou know how Mary is perplexed,  
Soon wouldst thou come to Wales and rid me of this pain.  Here she dies. 
But oh I die, my wish is all in vain.  Enter Lluellen running out before, and David with a halter ready to hang himself. Lluellen. 
The angry Heavens frowned on Britain's face  
To Eclipse the glory of fair Cambria,  
With for or aspects the dreadful Planets lower,  
Lluellen basely turn thy back and fly,  
No Welshmen fight it to the last and die.  
For if my men safely have got the Bride,  
Careless of chance, i'll reck no sour event,  
England's broad womb hath not that armed band,  
That can expel Lluellen from his land.  Enter David. 
Fly Lord of Cambria, fly Prince of Wales,  
Sweet brother fly the field is won and lost,  
Thou art beset with England's furious troops,  
And cursed Mortimor like a Lion leads,  
Our men have got the Bridge but all in vain:  
The English men are come upon our backs,  
Either flee or die for Edward hath the day:  
For me I have my rescue in my hand,  
England on me no torments shall inflict,  
Farewell Lluellen while we meet in Heaven.  Exit David. Enter Soldiers. 
Follow pursue: lie there whate'er thou be,  Lluellen is slain with a Pike staff: 
Yet soft my hearts let us his countenance see,  
This is the Prince I know him by his face,  
O gracious fortune that me happy made,  
To spoil the weed that chokes fair Cambria,  
Hale him from hence and in this busky wood,  
Bury his corpse, but for his head I vowed,  
I will present our governor with the same.  Exeunt omnes. Enter the Friar with a halter about his neck. friar. 
Come my gentle Richard my true master servant that in some storms have stood my master, hang thee I pray thee lest I hang for thee, and down on thy marry bones like a foolish fellow, that have gone far astray and ask forgiveness of God and king Edward for playing the rachel and the Rebel here in Wales, ah gentle Richard many a hot breakfast have we been at together, & now since, like one of Mars his frozen knights I must hang up my weapon upon this tree and come per misericordiam to the mad Potter Mortimor, wring thy hands friar and sing a pitiful farewell to thy pikestaff at parting.  The friar having song his farewell to his Pikestaff 'a takes his leave of Cambria, and Exit the Friar. Enter Mortimor with his soldiers, and Elinor. Mortimor. 
Bind fast the Traitor and bring him away, that the law may justly pass upon him and receive the reward of monstrous treasons and villainy, stain to the name and honour of his noble country for you that slew Lluellen and presented us with his head, the King shall reward your fortune and chivalry. Sweet Lady abate not thy looks so heavenly to the earth, God and the King of England hath honour for thee in store, and Mortimor's heart at service and at thy commandment.  Elinor. 
Thanks gentle Lord, but alas who can blame Elinor to accuse her stars, that in one hour hath lost honour and contentment.  Mort. 
And in one hour may your ladyship recover both if you vouchsafe so be advised by your friends, but what makes the Friar here upon his marrow bones?  friar. 
O Potter Potter the Friar doth sue,  
Now his old master is slain and gone to have anew.  Elinor. 
Ah sweet Lluellen how thy death I rue.  Mortimor. 
Well said Friar better once then never, give me thy hand, my cunning shall fail me but we will be fellows yet, and now Robin Hood is gone, it shall cost me hot water but thou shalt be King Edward's man, only I enjoin thee this, come not too near the Friar but good Friar be at my hand.  friar. 
O sir no sir not so sir, 'a was warned too lately none of that flesh I love.  Mortimor. 
Come on, and for those that have made their submission, and given their names in the kings name, I pronounce their pardons, and so God save K. Edward.  Exeunt ambo from Wales. Heres thunder and lightning when the Queen comes in. Enter Queen Elinor and jone. Q Eli. 
Why Joan, is this the welcome that the clouds affords, how dare these disturb our thoughts, knowing that I am Edward's wife and England's Queen here thus on Charing green to threaten me?  Ione. 
Ah mother blaspheme not so, your blaspheming and other wicked deeds hath caused our God to terrify your thoughts, and call to mind your sinful fact committed against the Maris here of lovely London, and better Maris London never bread, so full of ruth and pity to the poor, her have you made away, that London cries for vengeance on your head.  Queen. 
I rid her not, I made her not away, by heaven  
I swear, Traitors they are to Edward and to England's  
Queen that say I made away the Maris.  Ione. 
Take heed sweet Lady mother swear not so, a field of prize corn will not stop their mouths, that said you have made a way that virtuous woman.  Queen. 
Gape earth and swallow me, and let my soul sink down to Hell if I were Author of this women's Tragedy, Oh Joan, help Joan thy mother sinks.  Ione. 
Oh mother my help is nothing, oh she is sunk, and here the earth is new closed up again, ah Charing green for ever change thy hue, and never may the grass grow green again but wither and return to stones, because that beauteous Elinor sink on thee, well I will send unto the king my father's Grace, and satisfy him of this strange mishap.  Exit jone. Alarum a charge after long skirmish assault flourish. Enter King Edward with his train and Balliol prisoner Edward speaketh. Edward. 
Now trothless King what fruits have braving boasts,  
What end hath Treason but a sudden fall?  
Such as have known thy life and bringing up,  
Have praised thee for thy learning and thy art,  
How comes it then that thou forgettest thy books,  
That schooled thee to forget ingratitude,  
Unkind, this hand hath anointed thee a king,  
This tongue pronounced the sentence of thy ruth,  
If thou in lieu of mine unfeigned love,  
Hast levied arms for to attempt my crown,  
Now see thy fruits, thy glories are dispersed,  
And his, for like sith thou hast passed thy bounds,  
Thy sturdy neck must stoop to bear this yoke.  Balioll. 
I took this lesson Edward from my book,  
To keep a just equality of mind,  
Content with every fortune as it comes,  
So canst thou threat no more than I expect.  Edward 
So sir your moderation is enforced,  
Your goodly gloss cannot make it good,  Balioll. 
Then will I keep in silence what I mean,  
Since Edward thinks my meaning is not good.  Edmund. 
Nay Balliol speak forth, if there yet remain,  
A little remnant of persuading Art.  Balioll. 
If cunning have power to win the king,  
Let those employ it that can flatter him.  
If honoured deed may reconcile the King,  
It lies in me to give and him to take.  Edward. 
Why what remains for Balliol now to give?  Balioll. 
Allegiance as becomes a royal king.  Edward. 
What league of far where league is broken once?  Balioll. 
The greater hope in them that once have fallen.  Edward. 
But foolish are those Monarchs that do yield  
A conquered Realm upon submissive vows.  Balioll. 
There take my crown and so redeem my life.  Edward. 
I sit that was the choicest plea of both,  
For who so quells the pomp of haughty winds.  
And breaks their s●fe, whereon they build their trust,  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 wanting power they carry not harm.  
Balliol shall live, but yet within sum bounds,  
That if his wings grow fledge, they may be clipped:  Enter the Potter and the Potters wife, called the Potters his dwelling there, and john her man. Potterswife. 
john come away, you go as though you slept, a great knave and be afraid of a little thundering and lightning.  john. 
Call you this a little thundering, I am sure my breeches finds it a great deal, for I am sure they are stuff with thunder.  Potterswife. 
They are stuff with a fool, are they not, will it please you to carry the lantern a little handsomer, and not to carry it with your hands in your slops.  john. 
Slops quoth you would I had tarried at home by the fire, and then I should not have need to put my hands in my pockets, but I'll l●e my life I know the reason of this toll weather.  Pot●wife. 
Do you know the reason.' I pray thee John tell me and let me hear this reason.  john. 
I l●e my life son●e of your gossips be cross legs that we came from, but you are wise mistress for you ●om now aw● and wil● no. 〈◊〉 a gossiping in a dry house all night.  Potterswife. 
Would it please you to walk and leave of your knavery, but st● 〈◊〉, what's that riseth out of the ground, jesus bless us john, look how it riseth higher and higher.  john. 
Be my troth mistress 'tis a woman, good Lord do women gr●, I never saw none grow before.  Potterswife. 
Hold thy tongue thou foolish knave, it is the spirit of some woman  Queen. 
Ha let me see where am I, on Charing green, I o● 〈◊〉 green here hard by Westminster where I was crowned and Edward there made King, I 'tis true so it is, and therefore Edward kiss not me unless you will straight perfume your lips Edward.  Potterswife. 
Ora pro nobis john, I pray all to your prayers for my life it is the Queen that chases thus, who s●cke this da●e on Charing green, and now is risen up on Potters Hive, and therefore truce 〈◊〉 I'll go to her.  Here let the Potterswife go to the Queen. Queen. 
Welcome good woman, what place is this, sea or land I pray show to me.  Potterswife. 
Your Grace need not to fear you are on firm ground, it is the Potters Hive, and therefore cheer your Majesty for I will see you safe conducted to the Court, if case your highness be therewithal pleased.  Make a noise, Westward how. Queen. 
I good woman conduct me to the court, that there I may bewail my sinful life, and call to God to save my wretched soul, won a what noise is this I hear?  Potterswife. 
And like your Grace it is the Watermen that calls for passengers to go Westward now.  Queen. 
That fits my turn, for I will straight with them to kings town to the Court, and there repose me till the king come home: and therefore sweet woman conceal what thou hast seen, and lead me to those Watermen, for here doth Elinor droop.  john. 
Come come here's a goodly leading of you is there not, first you must make us afeard, and now I must be troubled in carrying of you, I would you were honestly laid in your bed so that I were not troubled with you.  Exeunt ambo. Enter two messengers, the one that David shall be hanged the other of the Queens sinking. 1. Mrs. 
Honour and Fortune wait upon the Crown  
Of Princely Edward England's valiant king.  Edward. 
Thanks Messenger, and if my God vouchsafe  
That winged Honour wait upon my throne,  
I'll make her 〈◊〉 her plumbs upon their heads,  
Whose true allegiance doth confirm the Crown,  
What news in Wales how wends our business there?  2 Messeng 
The false disturber of that wasted soil,  
With his adherents is surprised my King:  
And in assurance he shall start no more,  
Breathless he lies and headless to my Lords,  
The circumstance these lines shall here unfold.  Edward. 
A harmful weed by wisdom rooted out,  
Can never hurt the true engrafted plant,  
But what's the news Sir Thomas Spencer brings?  Spenc. 
Wonders my Lord, wrapped up in homely words,  
And Letters to inform your Majesty.  Edw. 
O Heavens, what may these miracles portend?  
Nobles my Queen is sick but what is more,  
read brother Edmund read a wondrous chance  Edmund redes a line of the Queen's sinking. Edmund. 
And ●not heard for red so strange a thing.  Edward. 
Sweet Queen this sinking is a surfeit ta'en  
Of pride, wherewith thy woman's man's heart did swell,  
A dangerous malady in the heart to dwell.  
Lords march we towards London now in haste,  
I will go see my love Elinor,  
And comfort her after this strange affright,  
And where she is importune to have talk,  
And secret conference with some Friars of France,  
Mun thou with me and I with thee will go,  
And take the sweet confession of my Nell,  
We will have French enough to parley with the Queen  Edmund. 
Might I advise your royal majesty,  
I would not go for millions of gold:  
What knows your grace disguised if you wend,  
What you may hear in secrecy revealed?  
That may appeal and discontent your highness,  
A goodly creature is your Elinor,  
Brought up in niceness and in delicacy,  
Then listen not to her confession Lord,  
To wound thy heart with some unkind conceit,  
But as for Lancaster he may not go.  K. Edrard. 
brother I am resolved and go I will●  
If God give life, and cheer my dying Queen,  
Why Mun, why man, whate'er King Edward heats,  
It lies in God and him to pardon all.  
I'll have no ghostly Fathers out of France,  
England hath learned Clerks and Confessors,  
To comfort and absolve as man may do,  
And i'll be ghostly Father for this once.  Edmund. 
Edmund thou mayst not go although thou did.  
And yet how mayst thou here thy King deny  
Edward is gracious, merciful, meek and mild,  
But 〈◊〉 when he finds he is beguiled,  Edward. 
Messenger hie thee back to Shrewsbury.  
Bid Mortimor thy master speed him fast,  
And with his fortune welcome us to London,  
I long to see my beauteous lovely Queen.  Exeunt omnes. Enter david drawn on a hurdle with Mortimor and officers accompanied, with the Friar, the Novice, the Harper. and Lluellen's head on a spear. friar. 
On afore, on afore.  Novice. 
Hold up your torches for dropping.  friar. 
A fair procession, Sir David be of good cheer you cannot go out of the way having so many guides at hand.  Novice. 
Be sure of that, for we go all the high way to the Gallows I warrant you.  David. 
I go where my star leads me, and die in my countries just cause and quarrel.  Harper. 
The Star that twinkled at thy birth,  
Good brother mine hath marred thy mirth,  
An o'd said ●aw Earth must to earth,  
Next year will be a piteous death,  
Of Hemp I dare lay a penny:  
This year is hanged so many.  friar. 
Well said Morgan Pigot Harper, and Prophet for the Kings one mouth.  Novice. 
Tunda tedo tedo dote dumb, this is the day th● time is come Morgan Pigot's prophecy and Lord Lluellen's Tragedy.  friar. 
Who saith the Prophet is an Ass, whose prophecies come so to paile:  
Said he not oft and sung it to, Lluellen after much ado,  
Should in spite heave up his chin, and be the highest of his kin:  
And see aloft Lluellen's head,  
Impaled with a crown of lead:  
My Lord let not this South-fair lack,  
That hath such cunning in his jack.  Harper. 
David hold still your clack.  
lest your heels make your ne● crack.  friar. 
Gentle Prophet and ye love me for spe● me 'not, 'tis the worst eke in the world to stir a wirche or anger a wise man, master unless have we any nast, best give my horses some more ●aie.  Exeunt omnes. Elinor in childbed with her daughter jone, and other Ladies. Qu. Eli. 
Call forth those renowned Friars come from France,  
And raise me gentle Ladies in my bed,  
That while this faltering engine of my speech,  
I lean to utter my concealed guilt,  
I may respect and so repent my sins  Ione. 
What plague attracts your royal Majesty?  Qu. Eli. 
Ah Joan I perish through a double wars,  
First in this painful prison of my soul,  
A world of dreadful sins holp thee to sight,  
And Nature having lost her working power,  
Yields up her earthly Fortunes unto death.  
Next over War my soul is over priest,  
In thee my Conscience loaden with misdeeds,  
Sits seeing my Conscience to ensue,  
Without especial favour from above.  Ione. 
Your Grace must account it a warrior's cross,  
To make resist where danger there is none,  
Superdewe your Fever by precious Art,  
And help you still through hope of heavenly aid  Qu. Eli. 
The careless sleep rule on the mountains tops,  
That see the Seaman floating on the surge,  
The threatening winds comes springing with the floods  
To overwhelm and drown his craised keel,  
His tacks torn, his sails borne over board.  
How pale like Vallowe flowers the mountain stands  
Upon his hatches waiting for his jerk,  
Wringing his hands that ought to play the pomp,  
May bla●e his fear that laboureth not for life.  
So thou poor soul may tell a servile tale,  
may council me, but I that prove thy pain.  
may hear thee talk: but not redress my harm,  
But ghastly death already is addressed,  
To glean the latest blossom of my life,  
My spirit fails me, are these Friars come?  Enter the King and his brother in friars weeds. King. 
Dominus vobiscum.  Edmund. 
Et cum spiritu tuo.  Qu. Elinor. 
Draw near grave Fathers, and approach my bed:  
Forbear our presence Ladies for a while,  
And leave us to our secret conference.  King. 
What cause hath moved your royal Majesty,  
To call your servants from their countries bounds?  
For to attend your pleasure here in England's court?  Qu. Eli. 
See you not holy Friars mine estate,  
My body weak inclining to my grave.  Edm. 
We see and sorrow for thy pain fair Queen.  Qu. Eli. 
By this eternal signs of my defects,  
Friars consecrate mine ineternall grief,  
My soul, ah wretched soul within this breast,  
Faint for to mount the Heavens with wings of grace,  
A hundred by flocking troops of sin,  
That stop my passage to my wished hours.  King. 
The nearer Elinor, so the greatest hope of health,  
And deign to us for to impart your quiet.  
Who by our prayers and counsel ought to arm,  
Aspiring souls to scale the heavenly grace.  Qu. Eli. 
Shame and remorse doth stop my course of speech.  King. 
Madam you need not dread our conference,  
Who by the order of the holy Church,  
Are all anointed to sacred secrecy.  Qu. Eli. 
Did I not think, nay were I not assured,  
Your wisdoms would be silent in that cause,  
No fear could make me to bewray myself,  
●ue gentle fathers I have thought it good,  
Not to rely upon these Englishmen,  
But on your troths, you holy men of France,  
Then as you love your life and England's weal,  
Keep secret my Confession from the king,  
For why my story nearly toucheth him.  
Whose love compared with my loss delights.  
With many sorrows that my heart affrights.  Edmund. 
My heart misgives.  King. 
Be silent, follow Friar.  Qu. Eli. 
In pride of youth when I was young and fair.  
And gracious in the king of England's sight,  
The day before that night his Highness should,  
Possess the pleasure of my wedlocks bed,  
Caitiff accursed monster as I was,  
His brother Edmund beautiful and young,  
Upon my bridal couch by my consent,  
Enjoys the flower and favour of my love.  The King be holdeth his brother woefully. 
And I became a Traitress to my Lord.  King, Facinus scelus, in fandum nefas. Edm. 
Madam, through sickness, weakness, and your wits, 'twere very good to bethink yourself before you speak.  Qu. Eli. 
Good father not so weak but that I woe,  
My heat doth rent to think upon the time,  
But why exclaims this holy Friar so▪  
Oh pray then for my faults religious man.  King. 
'tis charity in men of my degree,  
To sorrow for our neighbours' heinous sins:  
And Madam, though some promise love to you,  
And zeal to Edmund brother to the King,  
I pray the Heavens you both may soon repent.  
But might it please your Highness to proceed,  
Unto this sin a worser doth succeed.  Qu. Eli. 
For Joan of Acon the supposed child,  
And daughter of my Lord the English King:  
Is basely borne begotten of a Friar.  
Such time as I was their anued in France,  
His one lie true and lawful son my friends,  
He is my hope, his son that should succeed.  
Is Edward of Carnarvan lately borne,  
Now all the scruples of my troubled mind,  
I sighing sound within your reverent ears,  
Oh pray for pity, pray for I must die.  
Remit my God the folly of my youth,  
My groaned spirits attends thy mercy's seat,  Queen Elinor dies. 
Fathers farewell, commend me to my King,  
Commend me to my children and my friends,  
And close mine eyes for death will have his due.  King. 
Blushing I shut they thine enticing lamps,  
The wanton baits that make me suck my bane,  
Pirpus' hardened flames did never reflect,  
More hideous flames then from my breast arise,  
What fault more wild unto thy dearest Lord?  
Our daughter base begotten of a Priest,  
And Ned my brother partner of my love,  
Oh that those eyes that lightened Caesar's brain,  
Oh that those looks that mastered Phucebus brand,  
Or else those looks that stain Melissa's far,  
Should shrine discreet desire and lawless lust,  
Unhappy King dishonoured in thy stock,  
Hence feigned weeds, unfeigned is my grief.  Edm. 
Dread Prince my brother if my vows avail,  
I call to witness Heaven in my behalf,  
If zealous prayer might drive you from suspect,  
I bend my knees and humbly crave this boon,  
That you will drive misdeeds out of your mind,  
May never good betide my life my Lord,  
If once I dreamed upon this damned deed,  
But my deceased sister and your Queen,  
Afflicted with recureless maladies,  
Impatient of her pain grew lunatic,  
Discovering errors never dreamed upon,  
To prove this true the greatest men of all,  
Within their learned volumes do discord,  
That all extremes, and a-land in nought but extremes,  
Then think oh King her agony in death,  
Bereaves her sense and memory at once,  
So that she spoke she knew nor how nor what.  King. 
Sir fir, fain would your highness hide your faults,  
By cunning vows and glozing terms of Art,  
And well thou mayst delude these listening ears,  
Yet never assuage by proof this jealous heart,  
Traitor thy head shall ransom my disgrace,  
Daughter of darkness, whose accursed bower,  
The Poet feigned to live upon Avernus,  
Whereas Cimmerians darkness checks the Sun,  
David's jealousy afflict me not so sore,  
Fair Queen Elinor could never be so false,  
I but she vowed these treasons at her death,  
A time not fit to fashion monstrous lies,  
Ah my ungrateful brother as thou art,  
Could not my love, nay more could not the law,  
Nay further, could not nature thee allure,  
For to refrain from this incestuous sin,  
Hast from my sight, call Joan of Acon here,  Exit Edmund. 
The lukewarm spring distilling from his eyes,  
His oaths, his vows, his reasons rested with remorse,  
From forth his breast empoisoned with suspect.  
fain would I deem that false I find too true.  Enter jone of Acone. 
I come to know what England's King commands,  
I wonder why your Highness greets me thus.  
With strange regard and unacquainted terms.  Ki. 
Ah Joan this wonder needs must wound thy breast,  
For it hath well nigh slain my wretched heart.  Ione. 
What is the Queen my sovereign mother dead  
Woes in unhappy Lady we begun?  King. 
The Queen is dead, yet Joan lament not thou,  
Poor soul guiltless art thou of this deceit,  
That hath more cause to curse then to complain.  Ione. 
My dreadful soul assailed with doleful speech,  
joins me to bow my knees unto the ground,  
beseeching your most royal Majesty,  
To rid your woeful daughter of suspect.  King. 
I daughter Joan, poor soul thou art deceived,  
The King of England is no scorned Priest.  Ione. 
Was not the Lady Elinor your spouse,  
And am not I the offspring of your loins?  King. 
ay but when Ladies list to run astray,  
The poor supposed father wears the horn,  
And pleating leave their Liege in PRINCE's laps,  
Joan thou art daughter to a lecherous Friar,  
A Friar was thy father hapless Joan,  
Thy mother in profession vows no less,  
And I wild wretch which sorrowed hard no less,  Ione. 
What am I then a friars base borne brat?  
Presumptuous wretch why press I fore my king,  
How can I look my husband in the face?  
Why should I live since my renown is lost?  
Away thou want on weed, hence world's delight.  she falls groveling on the ground. Porcrine abbasia come vintoet flianco, Defluer chain boceail fren glisproni alfianco. King. 
O sommo Dio come i gu●dneo humans,  
Spesse offuscan son danu membo oscunro,  
Hapless and wretched, lift up thy heavy head  
Nurse not so much as this unhappy chance,  
Unconstant Fortune still will have her course.  Ione. 
My King, my King, let Fortune have her course  
Fly thou my soul and take a better corpse,  
Aies me from royal state I now am fain.  
You purple springs that wander in my veins,  
And whilom wants to feed my heavy heart,  
Now all at once make haste and pity me,  
And stop your powers and change your native course,  
Dissolve to air your lukewarm bloody streams,  
And cease to be that I may be no more,  
Your curled locks draw from this cursed head,  
A base her pomp for Joan is basely borne,  
Ah Gloster thou poor Gloster hast the wrong  She suddenly dies at the queen's beds feet. 
Die wretch, hate death, for Joan hath lived too long.  King. 
Revive thee hapless Lady grieve not thus,  
In vain speak I for she revives no more,  
Poor hapless soul thy own espected moans,  
Hath wrought her sudden and untimely death.  Enter Edmund, Gloster, running with Ladies and conveys Joan of Acon away. 
Lords, Ladies haste, ah Gloster art thou come,  
Then must I now present a Tragedy,  
Thy Joan is dead, yet grieve thou not her fall,  
She was too base a spouse for such a Prince.  Gloster. 
Conspire you then with Heavens to work my harms?  
O sweet assuagers of our martial miss,  
Desired death deprive me of my life,  
That I in death may end my life and love.  King. 
Gloster thy King is partner of thy heaviness,  
Although nor tongue nor eyes bewray his mean,  
For I have lost a flower as fair as thine,  
A love more dear, For Elinor is dead,  
But since the heaven lie ordinance decrees,  
That all things change in their prefixed time,  
Be thou content and bear it in thy breast,  
Thy swelling grief as needs I must mine,  
Thy Joan of Acon and my Queen deceased,  
Shall have that Honour as beseems their state.  
You peers of England, see in royal pomp,  
These breathless bodies be entombed straight  
With tried colours covered all with black,  
Let Spanish steeds as swift as fleeting wind,  
Convey these Princes to their funeral,  
Before them let a hundred mourners ride,  
In every time of their enforced abode,  
Rear up a cross in token of their work,  
Whereon fair Elinor's picture shall be placed,  
Arrived at London near our Pallas bounds,  
Inter my lovely Elinor late deceased,  
And in remembrance of her royalty,  
Erect a rich and stately carved Cross,  
Whereon her stature shall with glory shine,  
And hence forth see you call it Charing cross,  
For why the chancest and the choicest Queen,  
That ever did delight my royal eyes,  
Their dwell in darkness whilst I die in grief,  
But soft, what tidings with these Pursuivants?  Enter Messenger approach from Mortimor. Messenger. 
Sir Roger Mortimor with all Sussex as erst your Grace by message did command, is here at hand in purpose to present your Highness with his signs of victory, and trothless Balliol their accursed King, with fire and sword doth threat Northumberland.  King 
How one affliction calls another over,  
First death torments me, than I feel disgrace,  
Again Lluellen he rebels in Wales,  
And false Balliol means to brave me to,  
But I will find provision for them all,  
My constancy shall conquer death and shame,  
And Mortimor 'tis thou must haste to wales,  
And rouse that Rebel from his starting holes,  
And rid thy King of his contentions foe.  
Whilst I with Elinor, Gloster, and the rest,  
With speedy journey gather up our force,  
And beat these braving Scots from out our bounds,  
Courage brave Soldiers fates hath done their worst,  
Now Virtue let me triumph in thine aide.  Exite: Edward. Gloster solus. Gloster. 
Now Joan of Acon let me mourn thy fall,  
Sole here alone now set thee down and sigh,  
Sigh hapless Gloster for thy sudden loss,  
Pale death alas hath banished all thy pride,  
Thy wedlock vows how ought have I beheld?  Enter Mortimor with the head. 
Thy eyes thy looks thy lips and every part,  
How nature store in them to show their Art,  
In shine, in shape, in colour and compare,  
But now hath death the enemy of love,  
Stained and deformed, the shine, the shape, the reed,  
With pale and dimness, and my love is dead.  
Ah dead my love, vile wretch why came I living?  
So willeth fates, and I must be contented,  
All pomp in time must fade and grow to nothing,  
Wept I like Niobe, yet it profits nothing,  
Then cease my sighs since I may not regain her,  
And woe to wretched death that this hath slain her.  Exit Gloster. Yours. By George Peele Master of Arts in Oxenford. 
Finis.