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The Complete Plays

Page 41

by Christopher Marlowe


  Can this be true, ’twas good to banish him,

  And is this true, to call him home again?

  Such reasons make white black and dark night day.

  MORTIMER

  My lord of Lancaster, mark the respect.

  LANCASTER

  In no respect can contraries be true.

  QUEEN

  250 Yet, good my lord, hear what he can allege.

  WARWICK

  All that he speaks is nothing; we are resolved.

  MORTIMER

  Do you not wish that Gaveston were dead?

  PEMBROKE I would he were.

  MORTIMER

  Why then, my lord, give me but leave to speak.

  MORTIMER SENIOR

  But, nephew, do not play the sophister.

  MORTIMER

  This which I urge is of a burning zeal

  To mend the king and do our country good.

  Know you not Gaveston hath store of gold

  Which may in Ireland purchase him such friends

  As he will front the mightiest of us all?

  260 And whereas he shall live and be beloved,

  ’Tis hard for us to work his overthrow.

  WARWICK

  Mark you but that, my lord of Lancaster.

  MORTIMER

  But were he here, detested as he is,

  How easily might some base slave be suborned

  To greet his lordship with a poniard,

  And none so much as blame the murderer,

  But rather praise him for that brave attempt,

  And in the chronicle enrol his name

  270 For purging of the realm of such a plague.

  PEMBROKE He saith true.

  LANCASTER

  Ay, but how chance this was not done before?

  MORTIMER

  Because, my lords, it was not thought upon.

  Nay, more, when he shall know it lies in us

  To banish him and then to call him home,

  ’Twill make him vail the top-flag of his pride,

  And fear to offend the meanest nobleman.

  MORTIMER SENIOR

  But how if he do not, nephew?

  MORTIMER

  Then may we with some colour rise in arms;

  For, howsoever we have borne it out,

  280 ’Tis treason to be up against the king.

  So shall we have the people of our side,

  Which for his father’s sake lean to the king

  But cannot brook a night-grown mushroom,

  Such a one as my lord of Cornwall is,

  Should bear us down of the nobility.

  And when the commons and the nobles join,

  ’Tis not the king can buckler Gaveston;

  We’ll pull him from the strongest hold he hath.

  290 My lords, if to perform this I be slack,

  Think me as base a groom as Gaveston.

  LANCASTER

  On that condition, Lancaster will grant.

  WARWICK

  And so will Pembroke and I.

  MORTIMER SENIOR And I.

  MORTIMER

  In this I count me highly gratified,

  And Mortimer will rest at your command.

  QUEEN

  And when this favour Isabel forgets,

  Then let her live abandoned and forlorn.

  But see, in happy time, my lord the king,

  Having brought the earl of Cornwall on his way,

  300 Is new returned. This news will glad him much,

  Yet not so much as me. I love him more

  Than he can Gaveston. Would he loved me

  But half so much, then were I treble blest.

  Enter KING EDWARD, mourning [and ATTENDANTS, including BEAUMONT, Clerk of the Crown].

  EDWARD

  He’s gone, and for his absence thus I mourn.

  Did never sorrow go so near my heart

  As doth the want of my sweet Gaveston,

  And, could my crown’s revenue bring him back,

  I would freely give it to his enemies,

  And think I gained, having bought so dear a friend.

  QUEEN [to the NOBLES]

  310 Hark, how he harps upon his minion.

  EDWARD

  My heart is as an anvil unto sorrow,

  Which beats upon it like the Cyclops’ hammers,

  And with the noise turns up my giddy brain

  And makes me frantic for my Gaveston.

  Ah, had some bloodless Fury rose from hell

  And with my kingly sceptre struck me dead,

  When I was forced to leave my Gaveston!

  LANCASTER

  Diablo! What passions call you these?

  QUEEN [to EDWARD]

  My gracious lord, I come to bring you news.

  EDWARD

  320 That you have parlèd with your Mortimer?

  QUEEN

  That Gaveston, my lord, shall be repealed.

  EDWARD

  Repealed! The news is too sweet to be true.

  QUEEN

  But will you love me if you find it so?

  EDWARD

  If it be so, what will not Edward do?

  QUEEN

  For Gaveston, but not for Isabel.

  EDWARD

  For thee, fair queen, if thou lovest Gaveston,

  I’ll hang a golden tongue about thy neck,

  Seeing thou hast pleaded with so good success.

  QUEEN

  No other jewels hang about my neck

  Than these, my lord, nor let me have more wealth

  330 Than I may fetch from this rich treasury.

  [They kiss.]

  O, how a kiss revives poor Isabel!

  EDWARD

  Once more receive my hand, and let this be

  A second marriage ’twixt thyself and me.

  QUEEN

  And may it prove more happy than the first.

  [The NOBLES kneel.]

  My gentle lord, bespeak these nobles fair,

  That wait attendance for a gracious look,

  And on their knees salute your majesty.

  EDWARD

  Courageous Lancaster, embrace thy king,

  340 And, as gross vapours perish by the sun,

  Even so let hatred with thy sovereign’s smile.

  Live thou with me as my companion.

  LANCASTER

  This salutation over joys my heart.

  EDWARD

  Warwick shall be my chiefest counsellor;

  These silver hairs will more adorn my court

  Than gaudy silks or rich embroidery.

  Chide me, sweet Warwick, if I go astray.

  WARWICK

  Slay me, my lord, when I offend your grace.

  EDWARD

  In solemn triumphs and in public shows

  350 Pembroke shall bear the sword before the king.

  PEMBROKE

  And with this sword Pembroke will fight for you.

  EDWARD

  But wherefore walks young Mortimer aside?

  Be thou commander of our royal fleet,

  Or, if that lofty office like thee not,

  I make thee here Lord Marshal of the realm.

  MORTIMER

  My lord, I’ll marshal so your enemies

  As England shall be quiet and you safe.

  EDWARD

  And as for you, Lord Mortimer of Chirk,

  Whose great achievements in our foreign war

  360 Deserves no common place nor mean reward,

  Be you the general of the levied troops

  That now are ready to assail the Scots.

  MORTIMER SENIOR

  In this your grace hath highly honoured me,

  For with my nature war doth best agree.

  QUEEN

  Now is the King of England rich and strong,

  Having the love of his renownèd peers.

  EDWARD

  Ay, Isabel, ne’er was my heart so light.

  Clerk of the Crown, direct
our warrant forth

  For Gaveston to Ireland; Beaumont, fly

  370 As fast as Iris or Jove’s Mercury.

  BEAUMONT

  It shall be done, my gracious lord.

  [Exit BEAUMONT.]

  EDWARD

  Lord Mortimer, we leave you to your charge.

  Now let us in and feast it royally.

  Against our friend the earl of Cornwall comes,

  We’ll have a general tilt and tournament,

  And then his marriage shall be solemnized,

  For wot you not that I have made him sure

  Unto our cousin, the earl of Gloucester’s heir?

  LANCASTER

  Such news we hear, my lord.

  EDWARD

  That day, if not for him, yet for my sake,

  380 Who in the triumph will be challenger,

  Spare for no cost; we will requite your love.

  WARWICK

  In this, or aught, your highness shall command us.

  EDWARD

  Thanks, gentle Warwick. Come, let’s in and revel.

  Exeunt; the MORTIMERS remain.

  MORTIMER SENIOR

  Nephew, I must to Scotland; thou stayest here.

  Leave now to oppose thyself against the king.

  Thou seest by nature he is mild and calm,

  And, seeing his mind so dotes on Gaveston,

  Let him without controlment have his will.

  The mightiest kings have had their minions:

  390 Great Alexander loved Hephaestion,

  The conquering Hercules for Hylas wept,

  And for Patroclus stern Achilles drooped.

  And not kings only, but the wisest men:

  The Roman Tully loved Octavius,

  Grave Socrates, wild Alcibiades.

  Then let his grace, whose youth is flexible,

  And promiseth as much as we can wish,

  Freely enjoy that vain, light-headed earl,

  400 For riper years will wean him from such toys.

  MORTIMER

  Uncle, his wanton humour grieves not me,

  But this I scorn, that one so basely born

  Should by his sovereign’s favour grow so pert

  And riot it with the treasure of the realm.

  While soldiers mutiny for want of pay,

  He wears a lord’s revenue on his back,

  And Midas-like he jets it in the court

  With base outlandish cullions at his heels,

  Whose proud fantastic liveries make such show

  410 As if that Proteus, god of shapes, appeared.

  I have not seen a dapper jack so brisk.

  He wears a short Italian hooded cloak,

  Larded with pearl, and in his Tuscan cap

  A jewel of more value than the crown.

  Whiles other walk below, the king and he

  From out a window laugh at such as we,

  And flout our train, and jest at our attire.

  Uncle, ’tis this that makes me impatient.

  MORTIMER SENIOR

  But, nephew, now you see the king is changed.

  MORTIMER

  420 Then so am I, and live to do him service.

  But whiles I have a sword, a hand, a heart,

  I will not yield to any such upstart.

  You know my mind. Come, uncle, let’s away.

  Exeunt.

  [Scene 5]

  Enter SPENCER [JUNIOR] and BALDOCK.

  BALDOCK

  Spencer,

  Seeing that our lord th’earl of Gloucester’s dead,

  Which of the nobles dost thou mean to serve?

  SPENCER

  Not Mortimer, nor any of his side,

  Because the king and he are enemies.

  Baldock, learn this of me: a factious lord

  Shall hardly do himself good, much less us,

  But he that hath the favour of a king

  May with one word advance us while we live.

  The liberal earl of Cornwall is the man

  10 On whose good fortune Spencer’s hope depends.

  BALDOCK

  What, mean you then to be his follower?

  SPENCER

  No, his companion, for he loves me well,

  And would have once preferred me to the king.

  BALDOCK

  But he is banished; there’s small hope of him.

  SPENCER

  Ay, for a while. But, Baldock, mark the end:

  A friend of mine told me in secrecy

  That he’s repealed and sent for back again,

  And even now a post came from the court

  With letters to our lady from the king,

  20 And as she read, she smiled, which makes me think

  It is about her lover Gaveston.

  BALDOCK

  ’Tis like enough, for since he was exiled

  She neither walks abroad nor comes in sight.

  But I had thought the match had been broke off

  And that his banishment had changed her mind.

  SPENCER

  Our lady’s first love is not wavering.

  My life for thine, she will have Gaveston.

  BALDOCK

  Then hope I by her means to be preferred,

  30 Having read unto her since she was a child.

  SPENCER

  Then, Baldock, you must cast the scholar off

  And learn to court it like a gentleman.

  ’Tis not a black coat and a little band,

  A velvet-caped cloak faced before with serge,

  And smelling to a nosegay all the day,

  Or holding of a napkin in your hand,

  Or saying a long grace at a table’s end,

  Or making low legs to a nobleman,

  Or looking downward with your eyelids close,

  40 And saying, ‘Truly, an’t may please your honour’,

  Can get you any favour with great men;

  You must be proud, bold, pleasant, resolute,

  And now and then stab as occasion serves.

  BALDOCK

  Spencer, thou knowest I hate such formal toys,

  And use them but of mere hypocrisy.

  Mine old lord, while he lived, was so precise

  That he would take exceptions at my buttons,

  And, being like pins’ heads, blame me for the bigness,

  Which made me curate-like in mine attire,

  50 Though inwardly licentious enough

  And apt for any kind of villainy.

  I am none of these common pedants, I,

  That cannot speak without ‘propterea quod’.

  SPENCER

  But one of those that saith ‘quandoquidem’.

  And hath a special gift to form a verb.

  BALDOCK

  Leave off this jesting, here my lady comes.

  Enter the LADY [the KING’S NIECE, with letters].

  NIECE [to herself]

  The grief for his exile was not so much

  As is the joy of his returning home.

  This letter came from my sweet Gaveston.

  What need’st thou, love, thus to excuse thyself?

  60 I know thou couldst not come and visit me.

  [She reads.]

  ‘I will not long be from thee, though I die.’

  This argues the entire love of my lord.

  [She reads.]

  ‘When I forsake thee, death seize on my heart.’

  But rest thee here where Gaveston shall sleep.

  [She places the letter in her bosom.]

  Now to the letter of my lord the king.

  [She reads from another letter.]

  He wills me to repair unto the court

  And meet my Gaveston. Why do I stay,

  Seeing that he talks thus of my marriage day?

  Who’s there? Baldock?

  70 See that my coach be ready, I must hence.

  BALDOCK It shall be done, madam.

  Exit.

  NIECE

  And
meet me at the park pale presently.

  Spencer, stay you and bear me company,

  For I have joyful news to tell thee of:

  My lord of Cornwall is a-coming over

  And will be at the court as soon as we.

  SPENCER

  I knew the king would have him home again.

  NIECE

  If all things sort out as I hope they will,

  80 Thy service, Spencer, shall be thought upon.

  SPENCER

  I humbly thank your ladyship.

  NIECE

  Come, lead the way, I long till I am there.

  [Exeunt.]

  [Scene 6]

  Enter EDWARD, the QUEEN, LANCASTER, MORTIMER [JUNIOR], WARWICK, PEMBROKE, KENT, ATTENDANTS.

  EDWARD

  The wind is good, I wonder why he stays;

  I fear me he is wracked upon the sea.

  QUEEN [aside to LANCASTER]

  Look, Lancaster, how passionate he is,

  And still his mind runs on his minion.

  LANCASTER [to the KING] My lord –

  EDWARD

  How now, what news? Is Gaveston arrived?

  MORTIMER

  Nothing but ‘Gaveston’! What means your grace?

  You have matters of more weight to think upon;

  The King of France sets foot in Normandy.

  EDWARD

  10 A trifle. We’ll expel him when we please.

  But tell me, Mortimer, what’s thy device

  Against the stately triumph we decreed?

  MORTIMER

  A homely one, my lord, not worth the telling.

  EDWARD Prithee let me know it.

  MORTIMER

  But seeing you are so desirous, thus it is:

  A lofty cedar tree, fair flourishing,

  On whose top branches kingly eagles perch,

  And by the bark a canker creeps me up.

  And gets unto the highest bough of all.

  20 The motto: Aeque tandem.

  EDWARD

  And what is yours, my lord of Lancaster?

  LANCASTER

  My lord, mine’s more obscure than Mortimer’s.

  Pliny reports there is a flying fish

  Which all the other fishes deadly hate,

  And therefore, being pursued, it takes the air;

  No sooner is it up, but there’s a fowl

  That seizeth it. This fish, my lord, I bear;

  The motto this: Undique mors est.

  EDWARD

  Proud Mortimer! Ungentle Lancaster!

  Is this the love you bear your sovereign?

  30 Is this the fruit your reconcilement bears?

  Can you in words make show of amity,

  And in your shields display your rancorous minds?

  What call you this but private libelling

  Against the earl of Cornwall and my brother?

  QUEEN

  Sweet husband, be content, they all love you.

  EDWARD

  They love me not that hate my Gaveston.

  I am that cedar. Shake me not too much.

  [To the NOBLES]

 

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