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The troublesome raigne and lamentable death of Edward the Second, king of England: with the tragical fall of proud Mortimer and also the life and death of Piers Gaveston, the great Earle of Cornewall, and mighty favourite of King Edward the Second. As it was publickly acted by the Right Honorable the Earle of Pembroke his servauntes. Written by Chri. Marlow, Gent. Imprinted at London, by Richard Bradocke, for William Jones, dwelling neere Holbourne Conduit, at the signe of the Gunne, 1598, 4to.
This tragedy was entered on the book of the Stationers' Company in July, 1593, and was printed in 1598; again in 1612, 4to. and a third time in 1622, 4to. It is not in the former editions divided into acts.
EDWARD THE SECOND.
ACT THE FIRST.
Enter GAVESTON, reading a letter from the king.
GAV. My father is deceas'd! Come, Gaveston,
And share the kingdom with thy dearest friend.'
Sweet prince, I come; these, these thy amorous
Might have enforc'd me to have swam from France, And like Leander, gasp'd upon the sand,
So thou wouldst smile, and take me in thine arms.
Is as Elysium to a new-come soul;
My knee shall bow to none but to the king.
From the parliament. I'll stand aside.
Enter the KING, LANCASTER, MORTIMER, senior, MORTIMER, junior, EDMUND EARL of KENT, GUY EARL of WARWICK, &c.
EDW. Lancaster !
LAN. My lord.
GAV. That earl of Lancaster do I abhor. [Aside. EDW. Will you not grant me this? In spite of
I'll have my will; and these two Mortimers,
E. MOR. If you love us, my lord, hate Gaveston.
[Aside. Y. MOR. Mine uncle here, this earl, and I myself, Were sworn unto your father at his death,
That he should ne'er return into the realm:
And know, my lord, e'er I will break my oath,
And underneath thy banners march who will,
GAV. Mort dieu !
EDW. Well, Mortimer, I'll make thee rue these
Beseems it thee to contradict thy king?
Frown'st thou thereat, aspiring Lancaster?
The sword shall plane the furrows of thy brows,
I will have Gaveston; and you shall know
What danger 'tis to stand against your king.
GAV. Well done, Ned!
LAN. My lord, why do you thus incense your peers,
That naturally would love and honour you
But for that base and obscure Gaveston?
EDW. Barons and earls, your pride hath made me
But now I'll speak, and to the proof, I hope.
I do remember, in my father's days,
Lord Piercy of the North, being highly mov'd,
EDW. Aye, yours; aud therefore I would wish you grant.
WAR. Bridle thy anger, gentle Mortimer.
Y. MOR. I cannot, nor I will not; I must speak. Cousin, our hands I hope shall fence our heads, And strike off his that makes you threaten us.