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The Works of Christopher Marlowe

Edward II

Act: 2 Scene: 2

My Lord.

My lord, mines more obscure then Mortimers.

Plinie reports, there is a flying Fish,

Which all the other fishes deadly hate,

And therefore being pursued, it takes the aire:

No sooner is it up, but thers a foule,

That seaseth it: this fish my lord I beare,

The motto this: Undique mors est.

That shall wee see, looke where his lordship comes.

Salute him? yes: welcome Lord Chamberlaine.

Yet I disdaine not to doe this for you.

Weele haile him by the eares unto the block.

Cosin it is no dealing with him now,

He meanes to make us stoope by force of armes,

And therefore let us jointlie here protest,

To prosecute that Gaveston to the death.

And so doth Lancaster:

Now send our Heralds to defie the King,

And make the people sweare to put him downe.

Why how now cosin, how fares all our friends?

Weel have him ransomd man, be of good cheere.

Do cosin, and ile beare thee companie.

Be resolute, and full of secrecie.

Content, ile beare my part, holla whose there?

Lead on the way.

Why, so he may, but we will speake to him.

Twas in your wars, you should ransome him.

Your minion Gaveston hath taught you this.

And so will I, and then my lord farewell.

What forraine prince sends thee embassadors?

Thy gentle Queene, sole sister to Valoys,

Complaines, that thou hast left her all forlorne.

The Northren borderers seeing their houses burnt,

Their wives and children slaine, run up and downe,

Cursing the name of thee and Gaveston.

And thereof came it, that the fleering Scots,

To Englands high disgrace, have made this Jig,

And when tis gone, our swordes shall purchase more.

If ye be moov'de, revenge it as you can,

Looke next to see us with our ensignes spred.

Act: 2 Scene: 3

I feare me you are sent of pollicie,

To undermine us with a showe of love.

And it sufficeth: now my lords know this,

That Gaveston is secretlie arrivde,

And here in Tinmoth frollicks with the king.

Let us with these our followers scale the walles,

And sodenly surprize them unawares.

None be so hardie as to touche the King,

But neither spare you Gaveston, nor his friends.

Act: 2 Scene: 4

I wonder how he scapt.

No madam, but that cursed Gaveston.

Farre be it from the thought of Lancaster,

To offer violence to his soveraigne,

We would but rid the realme of Gaveston,

Tell us where he remaines, and he shall die.

The wind that bears him hence, wil fil our sailes,

Come, come aboord, tis but an houres sailing.

Act: 2 Scene: 5

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.

How now my lord of Arundell?

Not so my Lord, least he bestow more cost,

In burying him, then he hath ever earned.

Arundell My lords, it is his majesties request,

And in the honor of a king he sweares,

He will but talke with him and send him backe.

Why I say, let him go onPenbrookes word.