Monster of men,
That like the Greekish strumpet traind to armes
And bloudie warres, so many valiant knights,
Looke for no other fortune wretch then death,
King
Edward is not heere to buckler thee.
Warwicke. Lancaster, why talkst thou to the slave ?
Go souldiers take him hence, for by my sword,
His head shall off: Gaveston, short warning
Shall serve thy turne: it is our countries cause,
That here severelie we will execute
Upon thy person: hang him at a bough.
