Thursday's Serial: "Edward II" by Christopher Marlowe (in English) - II

Enter KING EDWARD, KENT, LANCASTER, the elder MORTIMER, the younger MORTIMER, WARWICK, PEMBROKE, and Attendants.

King Edward. Lancaster!

Lancaster. My lord?

Gaveston. That Earl of Lancaster do I abhor. [Aside.

King Edward. Will you not grant me this?—In spite of them

   I'll have my will; and these two Mortimers,

   That cross me thus, shall know I am displeased. [Aside.

Elder Mortimer. If you love us, my lord, hate Gaveston.

Gaveston. That villain Mortimer! I'll be his death. [Aside.

Young Mortimer.  Mine uncle here, this earl, and I myself,

   Were sworn to your father at his death,

   That he should ne'er return into the realm:

   And now, my lord, ere I will break my oath,

   This sword of mine, that should offend your foes,

   Shall sleep within the scabbard at thy need,

   And underneath thy banners march who will,

   For Mortimer will hang his armour up.

Gaveston. Mort dieu! [Aside.

King Edward. Well, Mortimer, I'll make thee rue these words:

   Beseems it thee to contradict thy king?

   Frown'st thou thereat, aspiring Lancaster?

   The sword shall plane the furrows of thy brows,

   And hew these knees that now are grown so stiff.

   I will have Gaveston; and you shall know

   What danger 'tis to stand against your king.

Gaveston. Well done, Ned! [Aside.

Lancaster. My lord, why do you thus incense your peers,

   That naturally would love and honour you,

   But for that base and obscure Gaveston?

   Four earldoms have I, besides Lancaster,—

   Derby, Salisbury, Lincoln, Leicester;

   These will I sell, to give my soldiers pay,

   Ere Gaveston shall stay within the realm:

   Therefore, if he be come, expel him straight.

Kent. Barons and earls, your pride hath made me mute;

   But know I'll speak, and to the proof, I hope.

   I do remember, in my father's days,

   Lord Percy of the North, being highly mov'd,

   Brav'd Mowbray in presence of the king;

   For which, had not his highness lov'd him well,

   He should have lost his head; but with his look

   Th' undaunted spirit of Percy was appeas'd,

   And Mowbray and he were reconcil'd:

   Yet dare you brave the king unto his face.—

   Brother, revenge it, and let these their heads

   Preach upon poles, for trespass of their tongues.

Warwick. O, our heads!

King Edward. Ay, yours; and therefore I would wish you grant.

Warwick. Bridle thy anger, gentle Mortimer.

Young Mortimer. I cannot, nor I will not; I must speak.—

   Cousin, our hands I hope shall fence our heads,

   And strike off his that makes you threaten us.—

   Come, uncle, let us leave the brain-sick king,

   And henceforth parley with our naked swords.

Elder Mortimer. Wiltshire hath men enough to save our heads.

Warwick. All Warwickshire will leave him for my sake.

Lancaster. And northward Lancaster hath many friends.—

   Adieu, my lord; and either change your mind,

   Or look to see the throne, where you should sit,

   To float in blood, and at thy wanton head

   The glozing head of thy base minion thrown.

       [Exeunt all except King Edward, Kent, Gaveston, and attendants.

King Edward. I cannot brook these haughty menaces:

   Am I a king, and must be over-rul'd!—

   Brother, display my ensigns in the field:

   I'll bandy with the barons and the earls,

   And either die or live with Gaveston.

Gaveston. I can no longer keep me from my lord. [Comes forward.

King Edward. What, Gaveston! welcome! Kiss not my hand:

   Embrace me, Gaveston, as I do thee.

   Why shouldst thou kneel? know'st thou not who I am?

   Thy friend, thyself, another Gaveston:

   Not Hylas was more mourned for of Hercules

   Than thou hast been of me since thy exile.

Gaveston. And, since I went from hence, no soul in hell

   Hath felt more torment than poor Gaveston.

King Edward. I know it.—Brother, welcome home my friend.—

   Now let the treacherous Mortimers conspire,

   And that high-minded Earl of Lancaster:

   I have my wish, in that I joy thy sight;

   And sooner shall the sea o'erwhelm my land

   Than bear the ship that shall transport thee hence.

   I here create thee Lord High-chamberlain,

   Chief Secretary to the state and me,

   Earl of Cornwall, King and Lord of Man.

Gaveston. My lord, these titles far exceed my worth.

Kent. Brother, the least of these may well suffice

   For one of greater birth than Gaveston.

King Edward. Cease, brother, for I cannot brook these words.—

   Thy worth, sweet friend, is far above my gifts:

   Therefore, to equal it, receive my heart.

   If for these dignities thou be envied,

   I'll give thee more; for, but to honour thee,

   Is Edward pleas'd with kingly regiment.

   Fear'st thou thy person? thou shalt have a guard:

   Wantest thou gold? go to my treasury:

   Wouldst thou be lov'd and fear'd? receive my seal,

   Save or condemn, and in our name command

   What so thy mind affects, or fancy likes.

Gaveston. It shall suffice me to enjoy your love;

   Which whiles I have, I think myself as great

   As Cæsar riding in the Roman street,

   With captive kings at his triumphant car.

Enter the BISHOP OF COVENTRY.

King Edward. Whither goes my Lord of Coventry so fast? 

Bishop of Coventry. To celebrate your father's exequies. But is that wicked Gaveston return'd?

King Edward. Ay, priest, and lives to be reveng'd on thee, That wert the only cause of his exile. 

Gaveston. 'Tis true; and, but for reverence of these robes, Thou shouldst not plod one foot beyond this place. 

Bishop of Coventry. I did no more than I was bound to do: And, Gaveston, unless thou be reclaim'd, As then I did incense the parliament, So will I now, and thou shalt back to France.

Gaveston. Saving your reverence, you must pardon me. 

King Edward. Throw off his golden mitre, rend his stole, And in the channel christen him anew. 

Kent. Ay, brother, lay not violent hands on him! For he'll complain unto the see of Rome. 

Gaveston. Let him complain unto the see of hell: I'll be reveng'd on him for my exile. 

King Edward. No, spare his life, but seize upon his goods: Be thou lord bishop, and receive his rents, And make him serve thee as thy chaplain: I give him thee; here, use him as thou wilt. 

Gaveston. He shall to prison, and there die in bolts. 

King Edward. Ay, to the Tower, the Fleet, or where thou wilt. 

Bishop of Coventry. For this offence be thou accurs'd of God! 

King Edward. Who's there? Convey this priest to the Tower. 

Bishop of Coventry. True, true. 

King Edward. But, in the meantime, Gaveston, away, And take possession of his house and goods. Come, follow me, and thou shalt have my guard To see it done, and bring thee safe again. 

Gaveston. What should a priest do with so fair a house? A prison may beseem his holiness.

                 Exeunt.