Christopher Marlowe

“ Well Mortimer, ile make thee rue these words.
Beseemes it thee to contradict thy King?
Frounst thou thereat aspiring Lancaster,
The Sword shall plaine the forrowes of thy browes,
And hew these knees that now are growne so stiffe,
I will have Gaveston, and you shall know,
What danger tis to stand against your King. ”

“ Farre is it from my heart to do you harme,
The Queene sent me, to see how you were used,
For she relents at this your misery.
And what eyes can refraine from shedding teares,
To see a King, in this most pitious state?
Edw.
Weep'st thou already, list awhile to me,
And then thy heart were it as Gurneys is,
Or as Matrevis, hewne from the Caucasus,
Yet will it melt, ere I have done my tale.
This Dungeon where they keepe me, is the sinke
Wherein the filth of all the Castle falles. ”

“ Spencer, this love, this kindnesse to thy King,
Argues thy noble mind and disposition:
Spencer, I here create thee Earle of Wilshire,
And dayly will enrich thee with our favour,
That as the sun-shine shall reflect ore thee:
Beside, the more to manifest our love,
Because we heare Lord Bruse doth sell his Land,
And that the Mortimers are in hand withall,
Thou shalt have Crownes of us to out-bid the Barons:
And Spencer, spare them not, lay it on.
Souldiers a Largis, and thrice welcome all.
Spen.
My Lord, heere comes the Queene.
Enter the Queene and her Sonne, and
Lewne a Frenchman. ”

“ I humbly thanke your Majesty.
Edw.
Knowest thou him Gaveston?
Gav.
I my Lord, his name is Spencer, he is well allied,
For my sake let him waite upon your Grace,
Scarce shall you find a man of more desert. ”

“ Enter Mortimer alone.
Mor.ju.
The King must dye, or Mortimer goes down,
The Commons now begin to pitty him,
Yet he that is the cause of Edwards death,
Is sure to pay for it when his sonne is of age,
And therefore will I do it cunningly,
This Letter written by a friend of ours,
Containes his death, yet bids them save his life,
Edwardum occidere nolite timere bonum est.
Feare not to kill the King, tis good he dye;
But reade it thus, and that's another sense:
Edwardum occidere nolite timere bonum est.
Kill not the King, tis good to feare the worst. ”

“ Did they remove that Flatterer from thy Throne.
Edw.
So sir, you have spoke, away, avoid our presence,
Accursed wretches, wast in regard of us,
When we had sent our Messenger to request
He might be spar'd to come to speake with us,
And Penbrooke undertooke for his returne,
That thou proud Warwicke watcht the prisoner,
Poore Peirce, and headed him 'gainst law of armes,
For which thy head shall overlooke the rest,
As much as thou in rage out went'st the rest.
War.
Tyrant, I scorne thy threats and menaces,
Tis but temporall that thou canst inflict. ”

“ Touching my friend, my deerest Gaveston,
Ah Spencer, not the riches of my Realme
Can ransome him, ah he is mark't to die,
I know the malice of the younger Mortimer,
Warwicke I know is rough, and Lancaster
Inexorable, and I shall never see
My lovely Pierce, my Gaveston againe,
The Barons overbeare me with their pride.
Spencer.
Were I King Edward, Englands soveraigne,
Sonne to the lovelie Elenor of Spaine,
Great Edward Longshankes issue: would I beare
These braves, this rage, and suffer uncontrowld
These Barons thus to beard me in my land,
In mine owne realme? ”

“ Faire blowes the winde for France, blow gentle gale,
Till Edmond be arriv'd for Englands good,
Nature, yeeld to my Countries cause in this.
A Brother, no, a Butcher of thy friends,
Proud Edward dost thou banish me thy presence?
But Ile to France, and cheere the wronged Queene,
And certifie what Edwards loosenesse is,
Unnaturall King to slaughter Noblemen,
And cherish Flatterers: Mortimer I stay
Thy sweete escape, stand gracious gloomy night to his device,
Enter Mortimer disguised. ”

“ Enter the King, Spencer the father, Spencer the sonne,
and the Noblemen of the Kings side.
Edw.
Why doe we sound retreat? upon them Lords,
This day I shall powre vengeance with my sword
On those proud Rebels that are up in armes,
And do confront and countermaund their King. ”

“ This ten dayes space, and lest that I should sleepe,
One playes continually upon a Drum,
They give me bread and water being a King,
So that for want of sleepe and sustenance,
My mind's distempered, and my bodie's num'd,
And whether I have limbs or no I know not. ”

“ For my sake sweete sonne pitty Mortimer.
Mor.ju.
Madame intreat not, I will rather dye,
Then sue for life unto a paltry Boy.
King.
Hence with the Traytor, with the Murtherer.
Mor.ju.
Base Fortune, now I see, that in thy Wheele
There is a point, to which when men aspire,
They tumble headlong downe, that point I toucht,
And seeing there was no place to mount up higher,
Why should I grieve at my declining fall?
Farewell faire Queene, weepe not for Mortimer,
That scornes the World, and as a Traveller
Goes to discover Countries yet unknowne. ”

“ Spen.
Not one alive, but shrewdly I suspect,
A gloomy fellow in a Mead below,
A gave a long looke after us my Lord,
And all the Land I know is up in armes,
Armes that pursue our lives with deadly hate. ”

“ Our friend Lewne, faithfull and full of trust,
Informeth us by Letters and by words,
That Lord Valoys our Brother, King of France,
Because your Highnesse hath beene slacke in homage,
Hath seazed Normandy into his hands,
These be the Letters, this the Messenger.
Edw.
Welcome Lewne, tush Sib, if this be all,
Valoys and I will soone be friends againe,
But to my Gaveston: shall I never see,
Never behold thee now? ”

“ And Gaveston, thinke that I love thee well,
To wed thee to our Neece, the only Heire
Unto the Earle of Gloster late deceased.
Gav.
I know my Lord, many will stomacke me,
But I respect neither their love nor hate.
Edw.
The head-strong Barons shall not limit me,
He that I list to favour shall be great:
Come lets away, and when the marriage ends,
Have at the rebels, and their complices. Exeunt omnes.
Enter Lancaster, Mortimer, Warwicke, Penbrooke, Kent.
Kent. ”

“ Crownets of Pearle about his naked armes,
And in his sportfull hands an Olive tree,
To hide those parts which men delight to see,
Shall bath him in a Spring, and there hard by,
One like Actæon peeping through the Grove,
Shall by the angry Goddesse be transformd,
And running in the likenesse of an Hart,
By yelping hounds puld downe, and seeme to dye,
Such things as these best please his Majesty,
My Lord, here comes the King and the Nobles
From the Parlament, ile stand aside.
Enter the King, Lancaster, Mortimer senior, Mortimer junior, Edmond Earle of Kent, Guy Earle of Warwicke, &c. ”

“ Edward will thinke we come to flatter him.
Edm.
I would he never had beene flattered more.
Enter the King, Baldocke, and Spencer the
sonne, flying about the Stage.
Spen.
Fly, fly, my Lord, the Queene is over-strong,
Her friends do multiply, and yours do fayle,
Shape we our course to Ireland there to breath.
Edw.
What, was I borne to flye and runne away,
And leave the Mortimers Conquerours behinde?
Give me my Horse and lets re'nforce our troopes:
And in this bed of honour dye with fame.
Bald.
O no my Lord, this Princely resolution
Fits not the time, away, we are pursued. ”

“ Mortimer tis I, but hath thy potion wrought so happily?
Mor.
It hath my Lord, the Warders all asleepe,
I thanke them, gave me leave to passe in peace.
But hath your Grace got shipping unto France?
Edm.
Feare it not. Exeunt.
Enter the Queene and her sonne.
Qu.
Ah Boy, our friends do faile us all in France:
The Lords are cruell and the King unkind,
What shall we doe?
Prince.
Madam, returne to England,
And please my Father well, and then a Fig
For all my Uncles friendship heere in France,
I warrant you Ile winne his Highnesse quickly,
A loves me better than a thousand Spencers. ”

“ We will not wrong thee so,
To make away a true man for a theefe.
Gave.
How meanst thou Mortimer? that is over base.
Mor.
Away base Groome, robber of Kings renowne,
Question with thy companions and mates.
Pen.
My Lord Mortimer, and you my Lords each one,
To gratifie the Kings request therein,
Touching the sending of this Gaveston,
Because his Majesty so earnestly
Desires to see the man before his death,
I will upon mine honour undertake
To carry him and bring him back againe,
Provided this, that you my Lord of Arundell
Will joyne with me.
War.
Penbrooke, what wilt thou doe? ”

“ Brother Edmond, strive not, we are his friends,
Isabell is neerer then the Earle of Kent.
Edm.
Sister, Edward is my charge, redeeme him.
Qu.
Edward is my sonne, and I will keepe him.
Edm.
Mortimer shall know that he hath wrong'd me.
Hence will I hast to Killingworth Castle,
And rescue aged Edward from his foes,
To be reveng'd on Mortimer and thee. Exeunt omnes.
Enter Matrevis and Gurney with the King.
Mat.
My Lord, be not pensive, we are your friends,
Men are ordain'd to live in misery,
Therefore come, dalliance dangereth our lives. ”

“ Then may we with some colour rise in armes,
For howsoever we have borne it out,
Tis treason to be up against the King,
So shall we have the people on our side,
Which for his fathers sake leane to the King,
But cannot brooke a night growne Mushrump,
Such a one as my Lord of Cornewall is,
Should beare us downe of the nobility,
And when the Commons and the Nobles joyne,
Tis not the King can buckler Gaveston.
Weele pull him from the strongest hold he hath,
My Lords, if to performe this I be slacke,
Thinke me as base a Groome as Gaveston.
Lan.
On that condition Lancaster will grant. ”

“ Enter the Queene, her son, Edmond, Mortimer, and Sir John.
Qu.
Now Lords, our loving friends and countrymen,
Welcome to England all with prosperous winds,
Our kindest friends in Belgia have we left
To cope with friends at home: a heavy case,
When force to force is knit, and sword and glave
In civill broiles make kin and countrimen
Slaughter themselves in others, and their sides
With their owne weapons goar'd, but what's the helpe? ”

“ My Lord, you shall be Chancelour of the Realme.
Thou Lancaster, high Admirall of our Fleete,
Yong Mortimer and his Unkle shall be Earles,
And you Lord Warwicke, President of the North,
And thou of Wales, if this content you not,
Make severall Kingdomes of this Monarchy,
And share it equally amongst you all,
So I may have some nooke or corner left,
To frolike with my deerest Gaveston.
Bish.
Nothing shall alter us, we are resolv'd.
Lan.
Come, come, subscribe.
Mor.ju.
Why should you love him,
Whom the world hates so? ”