The Works of Christopher Marlowe

Edward II

Act: 1 Scene: 2
Queen
Unto the forrest gentle Mortimer,
To live in greefe and balefull discontent,
For now my lord the king regardes me not,
But dotes upon the love of Gaveston.
He claps his cheekes, and hanges about his neck,
Smiles in his face, and whispers in his eares,
And when I come, he frownes, as who should say,
Go whether whither thou wilt seeing I have Gaveston.
Queene
Then let him stay, for rather then my lord
Shall be opprest by civill mutinies,
I wil endure a melancholie life,
And let him frollick with his minion.
Queene
Farewell sweet Mortimer, and for my sake,
Forbeare to levie armes against the king.
Act: 1 Scene: 4
Queene
whether goes my lord?
Queene
On whom but on my husband should I fawne?
Queene
In saying this, thou wrongst me Gaveston,
Ist not enough, that thou corrupts my lord,
And art a bawd to his affections,
But thou must call mine honor thus in question?
Queene
Your highnes knowes, it lies not in my power.
Queene
Villaine, tis thou that robst me of my lord.
Queene
Wherein my lord, have I deservd these words?
Witnesse the teares that Isabella sheds,
Witnesse this hart, that sighing for thee breakes,
How deare my lord is to poore Isabell.
Queene
O miserable and distressed Queene!
Would when I left sweet France and was imbarkt,
That charming Circes walking on the waves,
Had chaungd my shape, or at the mariage day
The cup of Hymen had beene full of poyson,
Or with those armes that twind about my neck,
I had beene stifled, and not lived to see,
The king my lord thus to abandon me:
Like frantick Juno will I fill the earth,
With gastlie murmure of my sighes and cries,
For never doted Jove on Ganimed,
So much as he on cursed Gaveston .
But that will more exasperate his wrath,
I must entreat him, I must speake him faire,
And be a meanes to call home Gaveston:
And yet heele ever dote on Gaveston,
And so am I for ever miserable.
Queene
Ah Mortimer now breaks the kings hate forth,
And he confesseth that he loves me not.
Queene
No, rather will I die a thousand deaths,
And yet I love in vaine, heele nere love me.
Queene
O never Lancaster! I am injoynde,
To sue unto you all for his repeale:
This wils my lord, and this must I performe,
Or else be banisht from his highnesse presence.
Queene
I Mortimer, for till he be restorde,
The angrie king hath banished me the court:
And therefore as thou lovest and tendrest me,
Be thou my advocate unto these peeres.
Queene
O Lancaster, let him diswade the king,
For tis against my will he should returne
Queene
Tis for my selfe I speake, and not for him.
Queene
Sweete Mortimer, sit downe by me a while,
And I will tell thee reasons of such waighte,
As thou wilt soone subscribe to his repeale.
Queene
Then thus, but none shal heare it but our selves.
Queene
Yet good my lord, heare what he can alledge.
Queene
And when this favour Isabell forgets,
Then let her live abandond and forlorne.
But see in happie time, my lord the king,
Having brought the Earle of Cornewall on his way,
Is new returnd, this newes will glad him much,
Yet not so much as me. I love him more
Then he can Gaveston, would he lov'd me
But halfe so much, then were I treble blest.
Queene
Harke how he harpes upon his minion.
Queene
My gratious lord, I come to bring you newes.
Queene
That Gaveston ,my Lord,shalbe repeald.
Queene
But will you love me, if you finde it so?
Queene
For Gaveston, but not for Isabell.
Queene
No other jewels hang about my neck
Then these my lord, nor let me have more wealth,
Then I may fetch from this ritch treasurie:
O how a kisse revives poore Isabell.
Queene
And may it proove more happie then the first.
My gentle lord, bespeake these nobles faire,
That waite attendance for a gratious looke,
And on their knees salute your majestie
Queene
Now is the king of England riche and strong,
Having the love of his renowned peeres.