The Works of Christopher Marlowe

Edward II

Act: 5 Scene: 6<< <-- -
Enter Mortimer and Matrevis [at different doors].
Mortimer
Ist done, Matrevis, and the murtherer dead?
Matrevis
I my good Lord, I would it were undone.
Mortimer.
Matrevis, if thou now growest penitent
Ile 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 feare,
Betray us both, therefore let me flie.
Mortimer
Flie to the Savages.
Matrevis
I humblie thanke your honour.
[Exit.]
Mortimer
As for my selfe, I stand as Joves huge tree,
And others are but shrubs compard to me,
All tremble at my name, and I feare none,
Lets see who dare impeache me for his death ?
Enter the Queene.
Queene
A Mortimer, the king my sonne hath news,
His fathers dead, and we have murdered him.
Mortimer
What if he have? the king is yet a childe.
Queene
I, I, but he teares his haire, and wrings his handes,
And vowes to be revengd upon us both,
Into the councell chamber he is gone,
To crave the aide and succour of his peeres.
Aye me, see where he comes, and they with him,
Now Mortimer begins our tragedie.
Enter the King, with the lords.
1. Lord
Feare not my lord, know that you are a king.
King
Villaine.
Mortimer
How now my lord ?
King
Thinke not that I am frighted with thy words,
My father's murdered through thy treacherie,
And thou shalt die, and on his mournefull hearse,
Thy hatefull and accursed head shall lie,
To witnesse to the world, that by thy meanes,
His kingly body was too soone interrde.
Queene
Weepe not sweete sonne.
King
Forbid not me to weepe, he was my father,
And had you lov'de him halfe so well as I,
You could not beare his death thus patiently,
But you I feare, conspirde with Mortimer.
1. Lord
Why speake you not unto my lord the king?
Mortimer
Because I thinke scorne to be accusde,
Who is the man dare say I murdered him?
King
Traitor, in me my loving father speakes,
And plainely saith, twas thou that murdredst him.
Mortimer
But hath your grace no other proofe then this ?
King
Yes, if this be the hand of Mortimer.
Mortimer
False Gurney hath betraide me and himselfe.
Queene
I feard as much, murther cannot be hid.
Mortimer
Tis my hand, what gather you by this.
King
That thither thou didst send a murtherer.
Mortimer
What murtherer? bring foorth the man I sent.
King
A Mortimer, thou knowest that he is slaine,
And so shalt thou be too: why staies he heere?
Bring him unto a hurdle, drag him foorth,
Hang him I say, and set his quarters up,
But bring his head back presently to me.
Queene
For my sake sweete sonne pittie Mortimer.
Mortimer
Madam, intreat not, I will rather die,
Then sue for life unto a paltrie boye.
King
Hence with the traitor, with the murderer.
Mortimer
Base fortune, now I see, that in thy wheele
There is a point, to which when men aspire,
They tumble hedlong downe: that point I touchte,
And seeing there was no place to mount up higher,
Why should I greeve 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.
King
What, suffer you the traitor to delay?
[Exit Mortimer with 1. Lord attended.]
Queene
As thou receivedst thy life from me,
Spill not the bloud of gentle Mortimer.
King
This argues, that you spilt my fathers bloud,
Els would you not intreate for Mortimer.
Queene
I spill his bloud ? no.
King
I, madam, you, for so the rumor runnes.
Queene
That rumor is untrue, for loving thee,
Is this report raisde on poore Isabell.
King
I doe not thinke her so unnaturall.
2. Lord
My lord, I feare me it will proove too true.
King
Mother, you are suspected for his death,
And therefore we commit you to the Tower,
Till further triall may be made thereof.
If you be guiltie, though I be your sonne,
Thinke not to finde me slack or pitifull.
Queene
Nay, to my death, for too long have I lived,
When as my sonne thinkes to abridge my daies.
King
Awaye with her, her wordes inforce these teares,
And I shall pitie her if she speake againe.
Queene
Shall I not moorne for my beloved lord,
And with the rest accompanie him to his grave?
2. Lord
Thus madam, tis the kings will you shall hence.
Queene
He hath forgotten me, stay, I am his mother.
2. Lord
That bootes not, therefore gentle madam goe.
Queene
Then come sweete death, and rid me of this greefe.
[Exit Queene and 2. Lord.]
[Enter1. Lord.]
1. Lord
My lord, here is the head of Mortimer.
King
Goe fetche my fathers hearse, where it shall lie,
And bring my funerall robes: accursed head,
Could I have rulde thee then, as I do now,
Thou hadst not hatcht this monstrous treacherie!
[Enter some with hearse.]
Heere comes the hearse, helpe me to moorne, my lords:
Sweete father heere, unto thy murdered ghost,
I offer up this wicked traitors head,
And let these teares distilling from mine eyes,
Be witnesse of my greefe and innocencie.
[Exeunt.]
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