Arun.  Yea, my good lord, for Gaveston is dead.

    Edw.  Ah, traitors! have they put my friend to death? 
    Tell me, Arundel, died he ere thou cam’st,
    Or didst thou see my friend to take his death?

Arun.  Neither, my lord; for, as he was surpris’d, Begirt with weapons and with enemies round, I did your Highness’ message to them all, Demanding him of them, entreating rather, And said, upon the honour of my name, That I would undertake to carry him Unto your Highness, and to bring him back.

    Edw.  And, tell me, would the rebels deny me that?

    Spen.  Proud recreants!

    Edw.  Yea, Spenser, traitors all!

Arun.  I found them at the first inexorable:  The Earl of Warwick would not bide the hearing; Mortimer hardly; Pembroke and Lancaster Spake least; and when they flatly had denied, Refusing to receive me pledge for him, The Earl of Pembroke mildly thus bespake:  ’My lords, because our sovereign sends for him, And promiseth he shall be safe return’d, I will this undertake, to have him hence, And see him redeliver’d to your hands.’

    Edw.  Well, and how fortunes it that he came not?

    Spen.  Some treason or some villainy was cause.

Arun.  The Earl of Warwick seiz’d him on the way; For, being deliver’d unto Pembroke’s men, Their lord rode home, thinking the prisoner safe; But, ere he came, Warwick in ambush lay, And bare him to his death, and in a trench Strake off his head, and march’d unto the camp.

    Spen.  A bloody part, flatly ’gainst law of arms!

    Edw.  O, shall I speak, or shall I sigh, and die?

Spen.  My lord, refer your vengeance to the sword Upon these barons; hearten up your men; Let them not unreveng’d murder your friends; Advance your standard, Edward, in the field, And march to fire them from their starting-holes.

Edw.  I will have heads and lives for him as many As I have manors, castles, towns, and towers!—­ Treacherous Warwick! traitorous Mortimer!  If I be England’s king, in lakes of gore Your headless trunks, your bodies will I trail, That you may drink your fill, and quaff in blood, And stain my royal standard with the same; You villains that have slain my Gaveston!—­ And, in this place of honour and of trust, Spenser, sweet Spenser, I adopt thee here; And merely of our love we do create thee Earl of Gloucester and Lord Chamberlain.

    Spen.  My lord, here is a messenger from the barons,
    Desires access unto your Majesty.

    Edw.  Admit him.

    Herald.  Long live King Edward, England’s lawful lord!

    Edw.  So wish not they, I wis, that sent thee hither.”

This, to be sure, does not read much like, for instance, Hotspur’s speech, beginning,