Edward II

Edward II

By Christopher Marlowe.

Table of Contents

1. Titlepage
2. Imprint
3. Dramatis Personae
4. Edward II
   1. Act I
      1. Scene I
      2. Scene II
      3. Scene III
      4. Scene IV
   2. Act II
      1. Scene I
      2. Scene II
      3. Scene III
      4. Scene IV
      5. Scene V
   3. Act III
      1. Scene I
      2. Scene II
      3. Scene III
   4. Act IV
      1. Scene I
      2. Scene II
      3. Scene III
      4. Scene IV
      5. Scene V
      6. Scene VI
   5. Act V
      1. Scene I
      2. Scene II
      3. Scene III
      4. Scene IV
      5. Scene V
      6. Scene I
5. Colophon
6. Uncopyright

Imprint

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Dramatis Personae

• King Edward II

• Prince Edward, his son, later Edward III

• Earl of Kent, brother to King Edward II

• Gaveston

• Archbishop of Canterbury

• Bishop of Coventry

• Bishop of Winchester

• Warwick

• Lancaster

• Pembroke

• Arundel

• Leicester

• Berkeley

• Mortimer the elder

• Mortimer the younger, his nephew

• Spenser the elder

• Spenser the younger, his son

• Baldock

• Beaumont

• Trussel

• Gurney

• Matrevis

• Lightborn

• Sir John of Hainault

• Levune

• Rice ap Howel

• Abbot, Monks, Herald, Lords, Poor Men, James, Mower, Champion, Messengers, Soldiers, and Attendants

• Queen Isabella, wife to King Edward II

• Niece to King Edward II, daughter of the Duke of Gloucester

• Ladies

Edward II

Act I

Scene I

A street in London.

	Enter Gaveston, reading a letter.
Gaveston	“My father is deceased! Come, Gaveston, And share the kingdom with thy dearest friend.” Ah, words that make me surfeit with delight! What greater bliss can hap to Gaveston Than live and be the favourite of a king! Sweet prince, I come! these, thy amorous lines Might have enforced me to have swum from France, And, like Leander, gasped upon the sand, So thou wouldst smile, and take me in thine arms. The sight of London to my exiled eyes Is as Elysium to a new-come soul: Not that I love the city or the men, But that it harbours him I hold so dear⁠— The king, upon whose bosom let me lie, And with the world be still at enmity. What need the arctic people love starlight, To whom the sun shines both by day and night? Farewell base stooping to the lordly peers! My knee shall bow to none but to the king. As for the multitude, that are but sparks, Raked up in embers of their poverty⁠— Tanti; I’ll fawn first on the wind, That glanceth at my lips, and flieth away. But how now! what are these?
	Enter three Poor Men.
Poor Men	Such as desire your worship’s service.
Gaveston	What canst thou do?
First Poor Man	I can ride.
Gaveston	But I have no horse.⁠—What art thou?
Second Poor Man	A traveller.
Gaveston	Let me see; thou wouldst do well To wait at my trencher, and tell me lies at dinnertime; And, as I like your discoursing, I’ll have you.⁠— And what art thou?
Third Poor Man	A soldier, that hath served against the Scot.
Gaveston	Why, there are hospitals for such as you: I have no war; and therefore, sir, be gone.
Third Poor Man	Farewell, and perish by a soldier’s hand, That wouldst reward them with an hospital!
Gaveston	Aside. Ay, ay, these words of his move me as much As if a goose should play the porcupine, And dart her plumes, thinking to pierce my breast. But yet it is no pain to speak men fair; I’ll flatter these, and make them live in hope.⁠— You know that I came lately out of France, And yet I have not viewed my lord the king: If I speed well, I’ll entertain you all.
All	We thank your worship.
Gaveston	I have some business. Leave me to myself.
All	We will wait here about the court.
Gaveston	Do. Exeunt Poor Men. These are not men for me; I must have wanton poets, pleasant wits, Musicians, that with touching of a string May draw the pliant king which way I please: Music and poetry is his delight; Therefore I’ll have Italian masks by night, Sweet speeches, comedies, and pleasing shows; And in the day, when he shall walk abroad, Like sylvan nymphs my pages shall be clad; My men, like satyrs grazing on the lawns, Shall with their goat-feet dance the antic hay; Sometime a lovely boy in Dian’s shape, With hair that gilds the water as it glides Crownets of pearl about his naked arms, And in his sportful hands an olive-tree, To hide those parts which men delight to see, Shall bathe him in a spring; and there, hard by, One like Actaeon, peeping through the grove, Shall by the angry goddess be transformed, And running in the likeness of an hart, By yelping hounds pulled down, shall seem to die: Such things as these best please his majesty.⁠— Here comes my lord the king, and the nobles From the parliament. I’ll stand aside. Retires.
	Enter King Edward, Kent, Lancaster, the Elder Mortimer, the Younger Mortimer, Warwick, Pembroke, and Attendants.
King Edward	Lancaster!
Lancaster	My lord?
Gaveston	Aside. That Earl of Lancaster do I abhor.
King Edward	Will you not grant me this? Aside. In spite