Showing posts with label Christopher Marlowe. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Christopher Marlowe. Show all posts

Thursday 31 May 2018

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


Matrevis. My lord, be not pensive; we are your friends:
   Men are ordain'd to live in misery;
   Therefore, come; dalliance dangereth our lives.
King Edward. Friends, whither must unhappy Edward go?
   Will hateful Mortimer appoint no rest?
   Must I be vexed like the nightly bird,
   Whose sight is loathsome to all winged fowls?
   When will the fury of his mind assuage?
   When will his heart be satisfied with blood?
   If mine will serve, unbowel straight this breast,
   And give my heart to Isabel and him:
   It is the chiefest mark they level at.
Gurney. Not so, my liege: the queen hath given this charge,
   To keep your grace in safety:
   Your passions make your dolours to increase.
King Edward. This usage makes my misery increase.
   But can my air of life continue long,
   When all my senses are annoy'd with stench?
   Within a dungeon England's king is kept,
   Where I am starv'd for want of sustenance;
   My daily diet is heart-breaking sobs,
   That almost rent the closet of my heart:
   Thus lives old Edward not reliev'd by any,
   And so must die, though pitied by many.
   O, water, gentle friends, to cool my thirst,
   And clear my body from foul excrements!
Matrevis. Here's channel-water, as our charge is given:
   Sit down, for we'll be barbers to your grace.
King Edward. Traitors, away! what, will you murder me,
   Of choke your sovereign with puddle-water?
Gurney. No, but wash your face, and shave away your beard,
   Lest you be known, and so be rescued.
Matrevis. Why strive you thus? your labour is in vain.
King Edward. The wren may strive against the lion's strength,
   But all in vain: so vainly do I strive
   To seek for mercy at a tyrant's hand.
                   [They wash him with puddle-water, and shave his beard away.
   Immortal powers, that know the painful cares
   That wait upon my poor distressed soul,
   O, level all your looks upon these daring men
   That wrong their liege and sovereign, England's king!
   O Gaveston, it is for thee that I am wrong'd!
   For me both thou and both the Spencers died;
   And for your sakes a thousand wrongs I'll take.
   The Spencers' ghosts, wherever they remain,
   Wish well to mine; then, tush, for them I'll die.
Matrevis. 'Twixt theirs and yours shall be no enmity.
   Come, come, away! Now put the torches out:
   We'll enter in by darkness to Killingworth.
Gurney. How now! who comes there?
Enter Kent.
Matrevis. Guard the king sure: it is the Earl of Kent.
King Edward. O gentle brother, help to rescue me!
Matrevis. Keep them asunder; thrust in the king.
Kent. Soldiers, let me but talk to him one word.
Gurney. Lay hands upon the earl for his assault.
Kent. Lay down your weapons, traitors! yield the king!
Matrevis. Edmund, yield thou thyself, or thou shalt die.
Kent. Base villains, wherefore do you gripe me thus?
Gurney. Bind him, and so convey him to the court.
Kent. Where is the court but here? here is the king
       And I will visit him: why stay you me?
Matrevis. The court is where Lord Mortimer remains:
      Thither shall your honour go; and so, farewell.
[Exeunt Matrevis and Gurney with King Edward.
Kent. O, miserable is that common-weal,
       Where lords keep courts, and kings are lock'd in prison!
First Soldier. Wherefore stay we? on, sirs, to the court!
Kent. Ay, lead me whither you will, even to my death,
        Seeing that my brother cannot be releas'd.
[Exeunt. Enter the younger Mortimer.
Young Mortimer. The king must die, or Mortimer goes down;
   The commons now begin to pity him:
   Yet he that is the cause of Edward's death,
   Is sure to pay for it when his son's of age;
   And therefore will I do it cunningly.
   This letter, written by a friend of ours,
   Contains his death, yet bids then save his life; [Reads.
   Edwardum occidere nolite timere, bonum est,
   Fear not to kill the king, 'tis good he die:
   But read it thus, and that's another sense;
   Edwardum occidere nolite, timere bonum est,
   Kill not the king, 'tis good to fear the worst.
   Unpointed as it is, thus shall it go.
   That, being dead, if it chance to be found,
   Matrevis and the rest may bear the blame,
   And we be quit that caus'd it to be done.
   Within this room is lock'd the messenger
   That shall convey it, and perform the rest;
   And, by a secret token that he bears,
   Shall he be murder'd when the deed is done. -
   Lightborn, come forth!
[Enter Lightborn.
                           Art thou so resolute as thou wast?
Lightborn. What else, my lord? and far more resolute.
Young Mortimer. And hast thou cast how to accomplish it?
Lightborn. Ay, ay; and none shall know which way he died.
Young Mortimer. But at his looks, Lightborn, thou wilt relent.
Lightborn. Relent! ha, ha! I use much to relent.
Young Mortimer. Well, do it bravely, and be secret.
Lightborn. You shall not need to give instructions;
   'Tis not the first time I have kill'd a man:
   I learn'd in Naples how to poison flowers;
   To strangle with a lawn thrust down the throat;
   To pierce the wind pipe with a needle's point;
   Or, whilst one is asleep, to take a quill,
   And blow a little powder in his ears;
   Or open his mouth, and pour quick-silver down.
   But yet I have a braver way than these.
Young Mortimer. What's that?
Lightborn. Nay, you shall pardon me; none shall know my tricks.
Young Mortimer. I care not how it is, so it be not spied.
   Deliver this to Gurney and Matrevis: [Gives letter.
   At every ten-mile end thou hast a horse:
   Take this [Gives money] : away, and never see me more!
Lightborn. No?
Young Mortimer. No; unless thou bring me news of Edward's death.
Lightborn. That will I quickly do. Farewell, my lord. [Exit.
Young Mortimer. The prince I rule, the queen do I command,
   And with a lowly congé to the ground
   The proudest lords salute me as I pass;
   I seal, I cancel, I do what I will.
   Fear'd am I more than lov'd; -let me be fear'd,
   And, when I frown, make all the court look pale.
   I view the prince with Aristarchus' eyes,
   Whose looks were as a breeching to a boy.
   They thrust upon me the protectorship,
   And sue to me for that that I desire;
   While at the council-table, grave enough,
   And not unlike a bashful puritan,
   First I complain of imbecility,
   Saying it is onus quam gravissimum;
   Till, being interrupted by my friends,
   Suscepi that provinciam, as they term it;
   And, to conclude, I am Protector now.
   Now all is sure: the queen and Mortimer
   Shall rule the realm, the king; and none rule us.
   Mine enemies will I plague, my friends advance;
   And what I list command who dare control?
   Major sum quàm cui possit fortuna nocere:
   And that this be the coronation-day,
   It pleaseth me and Isabel the queen. [Trumpets within.
   The trumpets sound; I must go take my place.
  Enter King Edward The Third, Queen Isabella, the Archbishop of Canterbury, Champion, and Nobles.
Archbishop of Canterbury. Long live King Edward, by the grace of God King of England and Lord of Ireland!
Champion. If any Christian, Heathen, Turk, or Jew,
        Dares but affirm that Edward's not true king,
        And will avouch his saying with the sword,
        I am the Champion that will combat him.
Young Mortimer. None comes: sound, trumpets! [Trumpets.
King Edward III. Champion, here's to thee. [Gives purse.
Queen Isabella. Lord Mortimer, now take him to your charge.
Enter Soldiers with Kent prisoner.
Young Mortimer. What traitor have we there with blades and bills?
First Soldier. Edmund the Earl of Kent.
King Edward III. What hath he done?
First Soldier. 'A would have taken the king away perforce,
           As we were bringing him to Killingworth.
Young Mortimer. Did you attempt his rescue, Edmund? speak.
Kent. Mortimer, I did: he is our king,
            And thou compell'st this prince to wear the crown.
Young Mortimer. Strike off his head: he shall have martial law.
Kent. Strike off my head! base traitor, I defy thee!
King Edward III. My lord, he is my uncle, and shall live.
Young Mortimer. My lord, he is your enemy, and shall die.
Kent. Stay, villains!
King Edward III. Sweet mother, if I cannot pardon him,
        Entreat my Lord Protector for his life.
Queen Isabella. Son, be content: I dare not speak a word.
King Edward III. Nor I; and yet methinks I should command:
        But, seeing I cannot, I'll entreat for him.
        - My lord, if you will let my uncle live,
        I will requite it when I come to age.
Young Mortimer. 'Tis for your highness' good and for the realm's.
        - How often shall I bid you bear him hence?
Kent. Art thou king? must I die at thy command?
Young Mortimer. At our command. -Once more, away with him!
Kent. Let me but stay and speak; I will not go:
        Either my brother or his son is king,
        And none of both them thirst for Edmund's blood:
        And therefore, soldiers, whither will you hale me?
[Soldiers hale Kent away, and carry him to be beheaded.
King Edward III. What safety may I look for at his hands,
        If that my uncle shall be murder'd thus?
Queen Isabella. Fear not, sweet boy; I'll guard thee from thy foes:
        Had Edmund liv'd, he would have sought thy death.
        Come, son, we'll ride a-hunting in the park.
King Edward III. And shall my uncle Edmund ride with us?
Queen Isabella. He is a traitor; think not on him: come.
[Exeunt. Enter Matrevis and Gurney.
Matrevis. Gurney, I wonder the king dies not,
   Being in a vault up to the knees in water,
   To which the channels of the castle run,
   From whence a damp continually ariseth,
   That were enough to poison any man,
   Much more a king, brought up so tenderly.
Gurney. And so do I, Matrevis: yesternight
   I open'd but the door to throw him meat,
   And I was almost stifled with the savour.
Matrevis. He hath a body able to endure
   More than we can inflict: and therefore now
   Let us assail his mind another while.
Gurney. Send for him out thence, and I will anger him.
Matrevis. But stay; who's this?
[Enter Lightborn.
Lightborn. My Lord Protector greets you. [Gives letter.
Gurney. What's there? I know not how to construe it.
Matrevis. Gurney, it was left unpointed for the nonce;
   Edwardum occidere nolite timere,
   That's his meaning.
Lightborn. Know you this token? I must have the king. [Gives token.
Matrevis. Ay, stay a while; thou shalt have answer straight. -
   This villain's sent to make away the king.
Gurney. I thought as much.
Matrevis. And, when the murder's done,
   See how he must be handled for his labour, -
   Pereat iste! Let him have the king;
   What else? -Here is the keys, this is the lake:
   Do as you are commanded by my lord.
Lightborn. I know what I must do. Get you away:
   Yet be not far off; I shall need your help:
   See that in the next room I have a fire,
   And get me a spit, and let it be red-hot.
Matrevis. Very well.
Gurney. Need you anything besides?
Lightborn. What else? a table and a feather-bed.
Gurney. That's all?
Lightborn. Ay, ay: so, when I call you, bring it in.
Matrevis. Fear not thou that.
Gurney. Here's a light to go into the dungeon.
                [Gives light to Lightborn, and then exit with Matrevis.
Lightborn. So, now.
   Must I about this gear: ne'er was there any
   So finely handled as this king shall be. -
   Foh, here's a place indeed with all my heart!
King Edward. Who's there? what light is that? wherefore com'st thou?
Lightborn. To comfort you, and bring you joyful news.
King Edward. Small comfort finds poor Edward in thy looks:
   Villain, I know thou com'st to murder me.
Lightborn. To murder you, my most gracious lord?
   Far is it from my heart to do you harm.
   The queen sent me to see how you were us'd,
   For she relents at this your misery:
   And what eye can refrain from shedding tears,
   To see a king in this most piteous state?
King Edward. Weep'st thou already? list a while to me,
   And then thy heart, were it as Gurney's  is,
   Or as Matrevis', hewn from the Caucasus,
   Yet will it melt ere I have done my tale.
   This dungeon where they keep me is the sink
   Wherein the filth of all the castle falls.
Lightborn. O villains!
King Edward. And there, in mire and puddle, have I stood
   This ten days' space; and, lest that I should sleep,
   One plays continually upon a drum;
   They give me bread and water, being a king;
   So that, for want of sleep and sustenance,
   My mind's distemper'd, and my body's numb'd,
   And whether I have limbs or no I know not.
   O, would my blood dropp'd out from every vein,
   As doth this water from my tatter'd robes!
   Tell Isabel the queen, I look'd not thus,
   When for her sake I ran at tilt in France,
   And there unhors'd the Duke of Cleremont.
Lightborn. O, speak no more, my lord! this breaks my heart.
   Lie on this bed, and rest yourself a while.
King Edward. These looks of thine can harbour naught but death;
   I see my tragedy written in thy brows.
   Yet stay a while; forbear thy bloody hand,
   And let me see the stroke before it comes,
   That even then when I shall lose my life,
   My mind may be more steadfast on my God.
Lightborn. What means your highness to mistrust me thus?
King Edward. What mean'st thou to dissemble with me thus?
Lightborn. These hands were never stain'd with innocent blood,
   Nor shall they now be tainted with a king's.
King Edward. Forgive my thought for having such a thought.
   One jewel have I left; receive thou this: [Gives jewel.
   Still fear I, and I know not what's the cause,
   But every joint shakes as I give it thee.
   O, if thou harbour'st murder in thy heart,
   Let this gift change thy mind, and save thy soul!
   Know that I am a king: O, at that name
   I feel a hell of grief! where is my crown?
   Gone, gone! and do I [still] remain alive?
Lightborn. You're overwatch'd, my lord: lie down and rest.
King Edward. But that grief keeps me waking, I should sleep;
   For not these ten days have these eye-lids clos'd.
   Now, as I speak, they fall; and yet with fear
   Open again. O, wherefore sitt'st thou here?
Lightborn. If you mistrust me, I'll be gone, my lord.
King Edward. No, no; for, if thou mean'st to murder me,
   Thou wilt return again; and therefore stay. [Sleeps.
Lightborn. He sleeps.
King Edward. [waking] O, let me not die yet! O, stay a while!
Lightborn. How now, my lord!
King Edward. Something still buzzeth in mine ears,
   And tells me, if I sleep, I never wake:
   This fear is that which makes me tremble thus;
   And therefore tell me, wherefore art thou come?
Lightborn. To rid thee of thy life. -Matrevis, come!
[Enter Matrevis and Gurney.
King Edward. I am too weak and feeble to resist. -
   Assist me, sweet God, and receive my soul!
Lightborn. Run for the table.
King Edward. O, spare me, or despatch me in a trice!
                   [Matrevis brings in a table. King Edward is murdered by holding him down on the bed with the table, and stamping on it.
Lightborn. So, lay the table down, and stamp on it,
   But not too hard, lest that you bruise his body.
Matrevis. I fear me that this cry will raise the town,
   And therefore let us take horse and away.
Lightborn. Tell me, sirs, was it not bravely done?
Gurney. Excellent well: take this for thy reward.
[Stabs Lightborn, who dies.
   Come, let us cast the body in the moat,
   And bear the king's to Mortimer our lord:
   Away!
[Exeunt with the bodies. Enter the younger Mortimer and Matrevis.
Young Mortimer. Is't done, Matrevis, and the murderer dead?
Matrevis. Ay, my good lord: I would it were undone!
Young Mortimer. Matrevis, if thou now grow'st penitent,
   I'll be thy ghostly father; therefore choose,
   Whether thou wilt be secret in this,
   Or else die by the hand of Mortimer.
Matrevis. Gurney, my lord, is fled, and will, I fear,
   Betray us both; therefore let me fly.
Young Mortimer. Fly to the savages!
Matrevis. I humbly thank your honour. [Exit.
Young Mortimer. As for myself, I stand as Jove's huge tree,
   And others are but shrubs compar'd to me:
   All tremble at my name, and I fear none:
   Let's see who dare impeach me for his death!
[Enter Queen Isabella.
Queen Isabella. Ah, Mortimer, the king my son hath news,
   His father's dead, and we have murder'd him!
Young Mortimer. What if he have? the king is yet a child.
Queen Isabella. Ay, but he tears his hair, and wrings his hands,
   And vows to be reveng'd upon us both.
   Into the council-chamber he is gone,
   To crave the aid and succour of his peers.
   Ay me, see where he comes, and they with him!
   Now, Mortimer, begins our tragedy.
[Enter King Edward the Third, Lords, and Attendants.
First Lord. Fear not, my lord; know that you are a king.
King Edward III. Villain!
Young Mortimer. Ho, now, my lord!
King Edward III. Think not that I am frighted with thy words:
    My father's murder'd through thy treachery;
    And thou shalt die, and on his mournful hearse
    Thy hateful and accursed head shall lie,
    To witness to the world that by thy means
    His kingly body was too soon interr'd.
Queen Isabella. Weep not, sweet son.
King Edward III. Forbid not me to weep; he was my father;
    And had you lov'd him half so well as I,
    You could not bear his death thus patiently:
    But you, I fear, conspir'd with Mortimer.
First Lord. Why speak you not unto my lord the king?
Young Mortimer. Because I think scorn to be accus'd.
    Who is the man dares say I murder'd him?
King Edward III. Traitor, in me my loving father speaks,
    And plainly saith, 'twas thou that murder'dst him.
Young Mortimer. But hath your grace no other proof than this?
King Edward III. Yes, if this be the hand of Mortimer.[Showing letter.
Young Mortimer. False Gurney hath betray'd me and himself. [Aside to Queen Isabella.
Queen Isabella. I fear'd as much: murder can not be hid.
Young Mortimer. It is my hand; what gather you by this?
King Edward III. That thither thou didst send a murderer.
Young Mortimer. What murderer? Bring forth the man I sent.
King Edward III. Ah, Mortimer, thou know'st that he is slain!
   And so shalt thou be too. Why stays he here?
   Bring him unto a hurdle, drag him forth;
   Hang him, I say, and set his quarters up:
   And bring his head back presently to me.
Queen Isabella. For my sake, sweet son, pity Mortimer!
Young Mortimer. Madam, entreat not: I will rather die
   Than sue for life unto a paltry boy.
King Edward III. Hence with the traitor, with the murderer!
Young Mortimer. Base Fortune, now I see, that in thy wheel
   There is a point, to which when men aspire,
   They tumble headlong down: that point I touch'd,
   And, seeing there was no place to mount up highe
   Why should I grieve at my declining fall?
   - Farewell, fair queen: weep not for Mortimer,
   That scorns the world, and, as a traveller,
   Goes to discover countries yet unknown.
King Edward III. What, suffer you the traitor to delay?
[Exit the younger Mortimer with First Lord and some of the Attendants.
Queen Isabella. As thou receivest thy life from me,
   Spill not the blood of gentle Mortimer!
King Edward III. This argues that you spilt my father's blood,
   Else would you not entreat for Mortimer.
Queen Isabella. I spill his blood! no.
King Edward III. Ay, madam, you; for so the rumour runs.
Queen Isabella. That rumour is untrue: for loving thee,
   Is this report rais'd on poor Isabel.
King Edward III. I do not think her so unnatural.
Second Lord. My lord, I fear me it will prove too true.
King Edward III. Mother, you are suspected for his death
   And therefore we commit you to the Tower,
   Till further trial may be made thereof.
   If you be guilty, though I be your son,
   Think not to find me slack or pitiful.
Queen Isabella. Nay, to my death; for too long have I liv'd,
   Whenas my son thinks to abridge my days.
King Edward III. Away with her! her words enforce these tears,
   And I shall pity her, if she speak again.
Queen Isabella. Shall I not mourn for my beloved lord?
   And with the rest accompany him to his grave.
Second Lord. Thus, madam, 'tis the king's will you shall hence.
Queen Isabella. He hath forgotten me: stay; I am his motherald.
Second Lord. That boots not; therefore, gentle madam, go.
Queen Isabella. Then come, sweet death, and rid me of this grief!
[Exit with Second Lord and some of the Attendants. Re-enter First Lord, with the head of the younger Mortimer.
First Lord. My lord, here is the head of Mortimer.
King Edward III. Go fetch my father's hearse, where it shall lie;
   And bring my funeral robes. [Exeunt Attendants.
                                Accursed head,
   Could I have rul'd thee then, as I do now,
   Thou hadst not hatch'd this monstrous treachery! -
   Here comes the hearse: help me to mourn, my lords.
[Re-enter Attendants, with the hearse and funeral robes.
   Sweet father, here unto thy murder'd ghost
   I offer up the wicked traitor's head;
   And let these tears, distilling from mine eyes,
   Be witness of my grief and innocency.
[Exeunt.