Brother, doe you heare them?

Warwicke, these words do ill beseeme thy years.

What Mortimer, you will not threaten him?

My lord, I see your love to Gaveston,

Will be the ruine of the realme and you,

For now the wrathfull nobles threaten warres,

And therefore brother banish him for ever.

I, and it greeves me that I favoured him.

So will I, rather then with Gaveston.

No marvell though thou scorne thy noble peeres,

When I thy brother am rejected thus.