Scene IX
   
 
   
 
   
[An Inn.]

Enter ROBIN and RALPH with a silver goblet.

 
   
  Robin.  Come, Ralph, did not I tell thee we were for ever made by this Doctor Faustus’ book? Ecce signum, 1 here’s a simple purchase 2 for horsekeepers; our horses shall eat not hay as long as this lasts.
      
 
   
Enter the VINTNER

  Ralph.  But, Robin, here come the vintner.
      
  Robin.  Hush! I’ll gull him supernaturally.
           5
   
Drawer, I hope all is paid: God be with you. Come, Ralph.
      
  Vint.  Soft, sir; a word with you. I must yet have a goblet paid from you, ere you go.
      
  Robin.  I, a goblet, Ralph; I, a goblet! I scorn you, and you are but a, 3 &c. I, a goblet! search me.
      
  Vint.  I mean so, sir, with your favour.  [Searches him.]
      
  Robin.  How say you now?
           10
   
  Vint.  I must say somewhat to your fellow. You, sir!
      
  Ralph.  Me, sir! me, sir! search your fill.  [VINTNER searches him.] Now, sir, you may be ashamed to burden honest men with a matter of truth.
      
  Vint.  Well, t’one of you hath this goblet about you.
      
  Robin.  You lie, drawer, ’tis afore me.  [Aside.] Sirrah you, I’ll teach ye to impeach honest men;—stand by;—I’ll scour you for a goblet!—stand aside you had best, I charge you in the name of Belzebub. Look to the goblet, Ralph.  [Aside to RALPH.]
      
  Vint.  What mean you, sirrah?
           15
   
  Robin.  I’ll tell you what I mean.  Reads [from a book.]
      
Sanctobulorum. Periphrasticon—Nay, I’ll tickle you, vintner. Look to the goblet, Ralph.  [Aside to RALPH.]
      
  Polypragmos Belseborams framanto pacostiphos tostu, Mephistophilis, &c.  [Reads.
      
 
   
Enter MEPHISTOPHILIS, sets squibs at their backs, [and then exit]. They run about

  Vint.  O nomine Domini! 4 what meanest thou, Robin? Thou hast no goblet.
           20
   
  Ralph.  Peccatum peccatorum! 5 Here’s thy goblet, good vintner.  [Gives the goblet to VINTNER, who exit.]
      
  Robin.  Misericordia pro nobis! 6 What shall I do? Good Devil, forgive me now, and I’ll never rob thy library more.
      
 
   
Re-enter MEPHISTOPHILIS

  Meph.  Monarch of hell, under whose black survey
      
Great potentates do kneel with awful fear,
           25
   
Upon whose altars thousand souls do lie,
      
How am I vexed with these villains’ charms?
      
From Constantinople am I hither come
      
Only for pleasure of these damned slaves.
      
  Robin.  How from Constantinople? You have had a great journey. Will you take sixpence in your purse to pay for you supper, and begone?
           30
   
  Meph.  Well, villains, for your presumption, I transform thee into an ape, and thee into a dog; and so begone.  [Exit.
      
  Robin.  How, into an ape? That’s brave! I’ll have fine sport with the boys. I’ll get nuts and apples enow.
      
  Ralph.  And I must be a dog.
      
  Robin.  I’faith thy head will never be out of the pottage pot.  Exeunt.
      
 

Scene X
   
 
   
 
   
[The Court of the Emperor.]

Enter EMPEROR, FAUSTUS, and a KNIGHT with attendants

 
   
  Emp.  Master Doctor Faustus, I have heard strange report of thy knowledge in the black art, how that none in my empire nor in the whole world can compare with thee for the rare effects of magic; they say thou hast a familiar spirit, by whom thou canst accomplish what thou list. This therefore is my request, that thou let me see some proof of thy skill, that mine eyes may be witnesses to confirm what mine ears have heard reported; and here I swear to thee by the honour of mine imperial crown, that, whatever thou doest, thou shalt be no ways prejudiced or endamaged.
      
  Knight.  I’faith he looks much like a conjuror.  Aside.
      
  Faust.  My gracious sovereign, though I must confess myself far inferior to the report men have published, and nothing answerable 1 to the honour of your imperial majesty, yet for that love and duty binds me thereunto, I am content to do whatsoever your majesty shall command me.
      
  Emp.  Then, Doctor Faustus, mark what I shall say.
           5
   
As I was sometime solitary set
      
Within my closet, sundry thoughts arose
      
About the honour of mine ancestors,
      
How they had won by prowess such exploits,
      
Got such riches, subdued so many kingdoms
           10
   
As we that do succeed, or they that shall
      
Hereafter possess our throne, shall
      
(I fear me) ne’er attain to that degree
      
Of high renown and great authority;
      
Amongst which kings is Alexander the Great,
           15
   
Chief spectacle of the world’s pre-eminence,
      
The bright shining of whose glorious acts
      
Lightens the world with his 2 reflecting beams,
      
As when I heard but motion 3 made of him
      
It grieves my soul I never saw the man.
           20
   
If therefore thou by cunning of thine art
      
Canst raise this man from hollow vaults below,
      
Where lies entomb’d this famous conqueror,
      
And bring with him his beauteous paramour,
      
Both in their right shapes, gesture, and attire
           25
   
They us’d to wear during their time of life,
      
Thou shalt both satisfy my just desire,
      
And give me cause to praise thee whilst I live.
      
  Faust.  My gracious lord, I am ready to accomplish your request so far forth as by art, and power of my Spirit, I am able to perform.
      
  Knight.  I’faith that’s just nothing at all.  Aside.
           30
   
  Faust.  But, if it like your Grace, it is not in my ability to present before your eyes the true substantial bodies of those two deceased princes, which long since are consumed to dust.
      
  Knight.  Ay, marry, Master Doctor, now there’s a sign of grace in you, when you will confess the truth.  Aside.
      
  Faust.  But such spirits as can lively resemble Alexander and his paramour shall appear before your Grace in that manner that they [best] live in, in their most flourishing estate; which I doubt not shall sufficiently content your imperial majesty.
      
  Emp.  Go to, Master Doctor, let me see them presently.
      
  Knight.  Do you hear, Master Doctor? You bring Alexander and his paramour before the Emperor!
           35
   
  Faust.  How then, sir?
      
  Knight.  I’faith that’s as true as Diana turn’d me to a stag!
      
  Faust.  No, sir, but when Actaeon died, he left the horns for you. Mephistophilis, begone.  Exit Mephisto.
      
  Knight.  Nay, an you go to conjuring. I’ll begone.  Exit.
      
  Faust.  I’ll meet with you anon for interrupting me so. Here they are, my gracious lord.
           40
   
 
   
Re-enter MEPHISTOPHILIS with [SPIRITS in the shape of] ALEXANDER and his PARAMOUR

  Emp.  Master Doctor, I heard this lady while she liv’d had a wart or mole in her neck: how shall I know whether it be so or no?
      
  Faust.  Your Highness may boldly go and see.
      
  Emp.  Sure these are no spirits, but the true substantial bodies of those two deceased princes.  [Exeunt Spirits.]
      
  Faust.  Will’t please your highness now to send for the knight that was so pleasant with me here of late?
           45
   
  Emp.  One of you call him forth.  [Exit Attendant.]
      
 
   
Re-enter the KNIGHT with a pair of horns on his head

  How now, sir knight! why I had thought thou had’st been a bachelor, but now I see thou hast a wife, that not only gives thee horns, but makes thee wear them. Feel on thy head.
      
  Knight.  Thou damned wretch and execrable dog,
      
Bred in the concave of some monstrous rock,
           50
   
How darest thou thus abuse a gentleman?
      
Villain, I say, undo what thou hast done!
      
  Faust.  O, not so fast, sir; there’s no haste; but, good, are you rememb’red how you crossed me in my conference with the Emperor? I think I have met with you for it.
      
  Emp.  Good Master Doctor, at my entreaty release him; he hath done penance sufficient.
      
  Faust.  My gracious lord, not so much for the injury he off’red me here in your presence, as to delight you with some mirth, hath Faustus worthily requited this injurious knight; which, being all I desire, I am content to release him of his horns: and, sir knight, hereafter speak well of scholars. Mephistophilis, transform him straight. [MEPHISTOPHILIS removes the horns.] Now, my good lord, having done my duty I humbly take my leave.
           55
   
  Emp.  Farewell, Master Doctor; yet, ere you go,
      
Expect from me a bounteous reward.  [Exeunt.

Scene XI
   
 
   
 
   
[A Green; afterwards the House of Faustus]

[Enter FAUSTUS and MEPHISTOPHILIS]

 
   
  Faust.  Now, Mephistophilis, the restless course
      
That Time doth run with calm and silent foot,
      
Short’ning my days and thread of vital life,
      
Calls for the payment of my latest years;
           5
   
Therefore, sweet Mephistophilis, let us
      
Make haste to Wittenberg.
      
  Meph.  What, will you go on horseback or on foot?
      
  Faust.  Nay, till I’m past this fair and pleasant green, I’ll walk on foot.
      
 
   
Enter a HORSE-COURSER
        10
   
  Horse-C.  I have been all this day seeking one Master Fustian: mass, see where he is! God save you, Master Doctor!
      
  Faust.  What, horse-courser! You are well met.
      
  Horse-C.  Do you hear, sir? I have brought you forty dollars for your horse.
      
  Faust.  I cannot sell him so: if thou likest him for fifty take him.
      
  Horse-C.  Alas, sir, I have no more.—I pray you speak for me.
           15
   
  Meph.  I pray you let him have him: he is an honest fellow, and he has a great charge, neither wife nor child.
      
  Faust.  Well, come, give me your money.  [HORSE-COURSER gives FAUSTUS the money.] My boy will deliver him to you. But I must tell you one thing before you have him; ride him not into the water at any hand.
      
  Horse-C.  Why, sir, will he not drink of all waters?
      
  Faust.  O yes, he will drink of all waters, but ride him not into the water: ride him over hedge or ditch, or where thou wilt, but not into the water.
      
  Horse-C.  Well, sir.—Now I am made man for ever. I’ll not leave my horse for forty. If he had but the quality of hey-ding-ding, hey-ding-ding, I’d made a brave living on him: he has a buttock as slick as an eel.  [Aside.] Well, God b’ wi’ ye, sir, your boy will deliver him me: but hark you, sir; if my horse be sick or ill at ease, if I bring his water to you, you’ll tell me what it is.
           20
   
  Faust.  Away, you villain; what, dost think I am a horse-doctor?  Exit HORSE-COURSER.
      
What art thou, Faustus, but a man condemn’d to die?
      
Thy fatal time doth draw to final end;
      
Despair doth drive distrust unto my thoughts:
      
Confound these passions with a quiet sleep:
           25
   
Tush, Christ did call the thief upon the cross;
      
Then rest thee, Faustus, quiet in conceit.  Sleeps in his chair.
      
 
   
Re-enter HORSE-COURSER, all wet, crying

  Horse-C.  Alas, alas! Doctor Fustian quotha? Mass, Doctor Lopus 1 was never such a doctor. Has given me a purgation has purg’d me of forty dollars; I shall never see them more. But yet, like an ass as I was, I would not be ruled by him, for he bade me I should ride him into no water. Now I, thinking my horse had had some rare quality that he would not have had me known of, I, like a venturous youth rid him into the deep pond at the town’s end. I was no sooner in the middle of the pond, but my horse vanished away, and I sat upon a bottle of hay, never so near drowning in my life. But I’ll seek out my Doctor, and have my forty dollars again, or I’ll make it the dearest horse!—O, yonder is his snipper-snapper.—Do you hear? You hey-pass, 2 where’s your master?
      
  Meph.  Why, sir, what would you? You cannot speak with him.
           30
   
  Horse-C.  But I will speak with him.
      
  Meph.  Why, he’s fast asleep. Come some other time.
      
  Horse-C.  I’ll speak with him now, or I’ll break his glass windows about his ears.
      
  Meph.  I tell thee he has not slept this eight nights.
      
  Horse-C.  An he have not slept this eight weeks, I’ll speak with him.
           35
   
  Meph.  See where he is, fast asleep.
      
  Horse-C.  Ay, this is he. God save you, Master Doctor! Master Doctor, Master Doctor Fustian!—Forty dollars, forty dollars for a bottle of hay!
      
  Meph.  Why, thou seest he hears thee not.
      
  Horse-C.  So ho, ho!—so ho, ho!  (Hollas in his ear.)
      
No, will you not wake? I’ll make you wake ere I go.  (Pulls FAUSTUS by the leg, and pulls it away.) Alas, I am undone! What shall I do?
           40
   
  Faust.  O my leg, my leg! Help, Mephistophilis! call the officers. My leg, my leg!
      
  Meph.  Come, villain, to the constable.
      
  Horse-C.  O lord, sir, let me go, and I’ll give you forty dollars more.
      
  Meph.  Where be they?
      
  Horse-C.  I have none about me. Come to my ostry 3 and I’ll give them you.
           45
   
  Meph.  Begone quickly.  HORSE-COURSER runs away.
      
  Faust.  What, is he gone? Farewell he! Faustus has his leg again, and the horse-courser, I take it, a bottle of hay for his labour. Well, this trick shall cost him forty dollars more.
      
 
   
Enter WAGNER

How now, Wagner, what’s the news with thee?
      
  Wag.  Sir, the Duke of Vanholt doth earnestly entreat your company.
           50
   
  Faust.  The Duke of Vanholt! an honourable gentleman, to whom I must be no niggard of my cunning. Come, Mephistophilis, let’s away to him.  Exeunt.

Scene XII
   
 
   
 
   
[The Court of the Duke of Vanholt.]

Enter the DUKE [of VANHOLT], the DUCHESS, FAUSTUS, and MEPHISTOPHILIS

 
   
  Duke.  Believe me, Master Doctor, this merriment hath much pleased me.
      
  Faust.  My gracious lord, I am glad it contents you so well.—But it may be, madam, you take no delight in this. I have heard that great-bellied women do long for some dainties or other. What is it, madam? Tell me, and you shall have it.
      
  Duchess.  Thanks, good Master Doctor; and for I see your courteous intent to pleasure me, I will not hide from you the thing my heart desires; and were it now summer, as it is January and the dead time of the winter, I would desire no better meat than a dish of ripe grapes.
      
  Faust.  Alas, madam, that’s nothing! Mephistophilis, begone. (Exit MEPHISTOPHILIS.) Were it a greater thing than this, so it would content you, you should have it.
           5
   
 
   
Re-enter MEPHISTOPHILIS with the grapes

Here they be, madam; wilt please you taste on them?
      
  Duke.  Believe me, Master Doctor, this makes me wonder above the rest, that being in the dead time of winter, and in the month of January, how you should come by these grapes.
      
  Faust.  If it like your Grace, the year is divided into two circles over the whole world, that, when it is here winter with us, in the contrary circle it is summer with them, as in India, Saba, and farther countries in the East; and by means of a swift spirit that I have I had them brought hither, as ye see.—How do you like them, madam; be they good?
      
  Duchess.  Believe me, Master Doctor, they be the best grapes that I e’er tasted in my life before.
           10
   
  Faust.  I am glad they content you so, madam.
      
  Duke.  Come, madam, let us in, where you must well reward this learned man for the great kindness he hath show’d to you.
      
  Duchess.  And so I will, my lord; and, whilst I live, rest beholding for this courtesy.
      
  Faust.  I humbly thank your Grace.
      
  Duke.  Come, Master Doctor, follow us and receive your reward.  [Exeunt.

Scene XIII
   
 
   
 
   
[A room in Faustus’ House.]

Enter WAGNER

 
   
  Wag.  I think my master shortly means to die,
      
For he hath given to me all his goods;
      
And yet, methinks, if that death were so near,
      
He would not banquet and carouse and swill
           5
   
Amongst the students, as even now he doth,
      
Who are at supper with such belly-cheer
      
As Wagner ne’er beheld in all his life.
      
See where they come! Belike the feast is ended.
      
 
   
Enter FAUSTUS, with two or three SCHOLARS [and MEPHISTOPHILIS]
        10
   
  1st Schol.  Master Doctor Faustus, since our conference about fair ladies, which was the beautifullest in all the world, we have determined with ourselves that Helen of Greece was the admirablest lady that ever lived: therefore, Master Doctor, if you will do us that favour, as to let us see that peerless dame of Greece, whom all the world admires for majesty, we should think ourselves much beholding unto you.
      
  Faust.  Gentlemen,
      
For that I know your friendship is unfeigned,
      
And Faustus’ custom is not to deny
      
The just requests of those that wish him well,
           15
   
You shall behold that peerless dame of Greece,
      
No otherways for pomp and majesty
      
Than when Sir Paris cross’d the seas with her,
      
And brought the spoils to rich Dardania.
      
Be silent, then, for danger is in words.  Music sounds, and HELEN passeth over the stage.
           20
   
  2nd Schol.  Too simple is my wit to tell her praise,
      
Whom all the world admires for majesty.
      
  3rd Schol.  No marvel though the angry Greeks pursued
      
With ten years’ war the rape of such a queen,
      
Whose heavenly beauty passeth all compare.
           25
   
  1st Schol.  Since we have seen the pride of Nature’s works,
      
And only paragon of excellence,
      
Let us depart; and for this glorious deed
      
Happy and blest be Faustus evermore.
      
  Faustus. Gentlemen, farewell—the same I wish to you.  Exeunt SCHOLARS [and WAGNER].
           30
   
 
   
Enter an OLD MAN

  Old Man.  Ah, Doctor Faustus, that I might prevail
      
To guide thy steps unto the way of life,
      
By which sweet path thou may’st attain the goal
      
That shall conduct thee to celestial rest!
           35
   
Break heart, drop blood, and mingle it with tears,
      
Tears falling from repentant heaviness
      
Of thy most vile and loathsome filthiness,
      
The stench whereof corrupts the inward soul
      
With such flagitious crimes of heinous sins
           40
   
As no commiseration may expel,
      
But mercy, Faustus, of thy Saviour sweet,
      
Whose blood alone must wash away thy guilt.
      
  Faust.  Where art thou, Faustus? Wretch, what hast thou done?
      
Damn’d art thou, Faustus, damn’d; despair and die!
           45
   
Hell calls for right, and with a roaring voice
      
Says “Faustus! come! thine hour is [almost] come!”
      
And Faustus [now] will come to do the right.  MEPHISTOPHILIS gives him a dagger.
      
  Old Man.  Ah stay, good Faustus, stay thy desperate steps!
      
I see an angel hovers o’er thy head,
           50
   
And, with a vial full of precious grace,
      
Offers to pour the same into thy soul:
      
Then call for mercy, and avoid despair.
      
  Faust.  Ah, my sweet friend, I feel
      
Thy words do comfort my distressed soul.
           55
   
Leave me a while to ponder on my sins.
      
  Old Man.  I go, sweet Faustus, but with heavy cheer,
      
Fearing the ruin of thy hopeless soul.  [Exit.]
      
  Faust.  Accursed Faustus, where is mercy now?
      
I do repent; and yet I do despair;
           60
   
Hell strives with grace for conquest in my breast:
      
What shall I do to shun the snares of death?
      
  Meph.  Thou traitor, Faustus, I arrest thy soul
      
For disobedience to my sovereign lord;
      
Revolt, or I’ll in piecemeal tear thy flesh.
           65
   
  Faust.  Sweet Mephistophilis, entreat thy lord
      
To pardon my unjust presumption.
      
And with my blood again I will confirm
      
My former vow I made to Lucifer.
      
  Meph.  Do it then quickly, with unfeigned heart,
           70
   
Lest greater danger do attend thy drift.  [FAUSTUS stabs his arm and writes on a paper with his blood.]
      
  Faust.  Torment, sweet friend, that base and crooked age, 1
      
That durst dissuade me from my Lucifer,
      
With greatest torments that our hell affords.
      
  Meph.  His faith is great, I cannot touch his soul;
           75
   
But what I may afflict his body with
      
I will attempt, which is but little worth.
      
  Faust.  One thing, good servant, let me crave of thee,
      
To glut the longing of my heart’s desire,—
      
That I might have unto my paramour
           80
   
That heavenly Helen, Which I saw of late,
      
Whose sweet embracings may extinguish clean
      
These thoughts that do dissuade me from my vow,
      
And keep mine oath I made to Lucifer.
      
  Meph.  Faustus, this or what else thou shalt desire
           85
   
Shall be perform’d in twinkling of an eye.
      
 
   
Re-enter HELEN

  Faust.  Was this the face that launched a thousand ships
      
And burnt the topless 2 towers of Ilium?
      
Sweet Helen, make me immortal with a kiss.  [Kisses her.]
           90
   
Her lips suck forth my soul; see where it flies!—
      
Come, Helen, come, give me my soul again.
      
Here will I dwell, for Heaven is in these lips,
      
And all is dross that is not Helena.  Enter OLD MAN.
      
I will be Paris, and for love of thee,
           95
   
Instead of Troy, shall Wittenberg be sack’d;
      
And I will combat with weak Menelaus,
      
And wear thy colours on my plumed crest;
      
Yea, I will wound Achilles in the heel,
      
And then return to Helen for a kiss.
           100
   
Oh, thou art fairer than the evening air
      
Clad in the beauty of a thousand stars;
      
Brighter art thou than flaming Jupiter
      
When he appear’d to hapless Semele:
      
More lovely than the monarch of the sky
           105
   
In wanton Arethusa’s azured arms:
      
And none but thou shalt be my paramour.  Exeunt.
      
  Old Man.  Accursed Faustus, miserable man,
      
That from thy soul exclud’st the grace of Heaven,
      
And fly’st the throne of his tribunal seat!
           110
   
 
   
Enter DEVILS

Satan begins to sift me with his pride:
      
As in this furnace God shall try my faith,
      
My faith, vile hell, shall triumph over thee.
      
Ambitious fiends! see how the heavens smiles
           115
   
At your repulse, and laughs your state to scorn!
      
Hence, hell! for hence I fly unto my God.  Exeunt  [on one side DEVILS, on the other, OLD MAN].

Scene XIV
   
 
   
 
   
[The Same.]

Enter FAUSTUS with SCHOLARS

 
   
  Faust.  Ah, gentlemen!
      
  1st Schol.  What ails Faustus?
      
  Faust.  Ah, my sweet chamber-fellow, had I lived with thee, then had I lived still! but now I die eternally. Look, comes he not, comes he not?
      
  2nd Schol.  What means Faustus?
           5
   
  3rd Schol.  Belike he is grown into some sickness by being over solitary.
      
  1st Schol.  If it be so, we’ll have physicians to cure him. ’Tis but a surfeit. Never fear, man.
      
  Faust.  A surfeit of deadly sin that hath damn’d both body and soul.
      
  2nd Schol.  Yet, Faustus, look up to Heaven; remember God’s mercies are infinite.
      
  Faust.  But Faustus’ offenses can never be pardoned: the serpent that tempted Eve may be sav’d, but not Faustus. Ah, gentlemen, hear me with patience, and tremble not at my speeches! Though my heart pants and quivers to remember that I have been a student here these thirty years, oh, would I had never seen Wittenberg, never read book! And what wonders I have done, All Germany can witness, yea, the world; for which Faustus hath lost both Germany and the world, yea Heaven itself, Heaven, the seat of God, the throne of the blessed, the kingdom of joy; and must remain in hell for ever, hell, ah, hell, for ever! Sweet friends! what shall become of Faustus being in hell for ever?
           10
   
  3rd Schol.  Yet, Faustus, call on God.
      
  Faust.  On God, whom Faustus hath abjur’d! on God, whom Faustus hath blasphemed! Ah, my God, I would weep, but the Devil draws in my tears. Gush forth blood instead of tears! Yea, life and soul! Oh, he stays my tongue! I would lift up my hands, but see, they hold them, they hold them!
      
  All.  Who, Faustus?
      
  Faust.  Lucifer and Mephistophilis. Ah, gentlemen, I gave them my soul for my cunning!
      
  All.  God forbid!
           15
   
  Faust.  God forbade it indeed; but Faustus hath done it. For vain pleasure of twenty-four years hath Faustus lost eternal joy and felicity. I writ them a bill with mine own blood: the date is expired; the time will come, and he will fetch me.
      
  1st Schol.  Why did not Faustus tell us of this before, that divines might have pray’d for thee?
      
  Faust.  Oft have I thought to have done so; but the Devil threat’ned to tear me in pieces if I nam’d God; to fetch both body and soul if I once gave ear to divinity: and now ’tis too late. Gentlemen, away! lest you perish with me.
      
  2nd Schol.  Oh, what shall we do to save Faustus?
      
  Faust.  Talk not of me, but save yourselves, and depart.
           20
   
  3rd Schol.  God will strengthen me. I will stay with Faustus.
      
  1st Schol.  Tempt not God, sweet friend; but let us into the next room, and there pray for him.
      
  Faust.  Ay, pray for me, pray for me! and what noise soever ye hear, come not unto me, for nothing can rescue me.
      
  2nd Schol.  Pray thou, and we will pray that God may have mercy upon thee.
      
  Faust.  Gentlemen, farewell! If I live till morning I’ll visit you: if not—Faustus is gone to hell.
           25
   
  All.  Faustus, farewell!  Exeunt SCHOLARS. The clock strikes eleven.
      
  Faust.  Ah, Faustus,
      
Now hast thou but one bare hour to live,
      
And then thou must be damn’d perpetually!
      
Stand still, you ever-moving spheres of Heaven,
           30
   
That time may cease, and midnight never come;
      
Fair Nature’s eye, rise, rise again and make
      
Perpetual day; or let this hour be but
      
A year, a month, a week, a natural day,
      
That Faustus may repent and save his soul!
           35
   
O lente, lente, curite noctis equi. 1
      
The stars move still, 2 time runs, the clock will strike,
      
The Devil will come, and Faustus must be damn’d.
      
O, I’ll leap up to my God! Who pulls me down?
      
See, see where Christ’s blood streams in the firmament!
           40
   
One drop would save my soul—half a drop: ah, my Christ!
      
Ah, rend not my heart for naming of my Christ!
      
Yet will I call on him: O spare me, Lucifer!—
      
Where is it now? ’Tis gone; and see where God
      
Stretcheth out his arm, and bends his ireful brows!
           45
   
Mountain and hills come, come and fall on me,
      
And hide me from the heavy wrath of God!
      
No! no!
      
Then will I headlong run into the earth;
      
Earth gape! O no, it will not harbour me!
           50
   
You stars that reign’d at my nativity,
      
Whose influence hath alloted death and hell,
      
Now draw up Faustus like a foggy mist
      
Into the entrails of yon labouring clouds,
      
That when they vomit forth into the air,
           55
   
My limbs may issue from their smoky mouths,
      
So that my soul may but ascend to Heaven.  The watch strikes [the half hour].
      
Ah, half the hour is past! ’Twill all be past anon!
      
O God!
      
If thou wilt not have mercy on my soul,
           60
   
Yet for Christ’s sake whose blood hath ransom’d me,
      
Impose some end to my incessant pain;
      
Let Faustus live in hell a thousand years—
      
A hundred thousand, and—at last—be sav’d!
      
O, no end is limited to damned souls!
           65
   
Why wert thou not a creature wanting soul?
      
Or why is this immortal that thou hast?
      
Ah, Pythogoras’ metempsychosis! were that true,
      
This soul should fly from me, and I be chang’d
      
Unto some brutish beast! All beasts are happy,
           70
   
For when they die,
      
Their souls are soon dissolv’d in elements;
      
But mine must live, still to be plagu’d in hell.
      
Curst be the parents that engend’red me!
      
No, Faustus: curse thyself: curse Lucifer
           75
   
That hath depriv’d thee of the joys of Heaven.  The clock striketh twelve.
      
O, it strikes, it strikes! Now, body, turn to air,
      
Or Lucifer will bear thee quick to hell.  Thunder and lightning.
      
O soul, be chang’d into little water-drops,
      
And fall into the ocean—ne’er be found.
           80
   
My God! my God! look not so fierce on me!  Enter DEVILS.
      
Adders and serpents, let me breathe awhile!
      
Ugly hell, gape not! come not, Lucifer!
      
I’ll burn my books!—Ah Mephistophilis!  Exeunt DEVILS with FAUSTUS.
      
 
   
Enter CHORUS
        85
   
  Cho.  Cut is the branch that might have grown full straight,
      
And burned is Apollo’s laurel bough,
      
That sometime grew within this learned man.
      
Faustus is gone; regard his hellish fall,
      
Whose fiendfull fortune may exhort the wise
           90
   
Only to wonder at unlawful things,
      
Whose deepness doth entice such forward wits
      
To practise more than heavenly power permits.  [Exit.]

Edward the Second



Act the First
   
 
   
Scene I
   
 
   
 
   
Enter GAVESTON, reading on a letter that was brought him from the KING

  Gaveston.  “MY FATHER is deceas’d! 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
           4
   
Than live and be the favourite of a king!
      
Sweet prince, I come; these, these thy amorous lines
      
Might have enforc’d me to have swum from France,
      
And, like Leander, gasp’d upon the sand,
           8
   
So thou would’st smile, and take me in thine arms.
      
The sight of London to my exil’d eyes
      
Is as Elysium to a new-come soul;
      
Not that I love the city, or the men,
           12
   
But that it harbours him I hold so dear—
      
The king, upon whose bosom let me die, 1
      
And with the world be still at enmity.
      
What need the arctic people love starlight,
           16
   
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,
           20
   
Rak’d up in embers of their poverty;—
      
Tanti; 2 I’ll fawn first on the wind
      
That glanceth at my lips, and flieth away.
      
 
   
Enter three Poor Men

But how now, what are these?
           24
   
  Poor Men.  Such as desire your worship’s service.
      
  Gav.  What canst thou do?
      
  1st P. Man.  I can ride.
      
  Gav.  But I have no horses.—What art thou?
           28
   
  2nd P. Man.  A traveller.
      
  Gav.  Let me see: thou would’st do well
      
To wait at my trencher and tell me lies at dinner time;
      
And as I like your discoursing, I’ll have you.—
           32
   
And what art thou?
      
  3rd P. Man.  A soldier, that hath serv’d against the Scot.
      
  Gav.  Why, there are hospitals for such as you.
      
I have no war, and therefore, sir, begone.
           36
   
  3rd P. Man.  Farewell, and perish by a soldier’s hand,
      
That would’st reward them with an hospital.
      
  Gav.  Ay, ay, these words of his move me as much
      
As if a goose should play the porcupine,
           40
   
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,  [Aside.]
           44
   
And yet I have not view’d my lord the king;
      
If I speed well, I’ll entertain you all.
      
  All.  We thank your worship.
      
  Gav.  I have some business: leave me to myself.
           48
   
  All.  We will wait here about the court.  Exeunt.
      
  Gav.  Do. These are not men for me:
      
I must have wanton poets, pleasant wits,
      
Musicians, that with touching of a string
           52
   
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;
           56
   
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 an antic hay. 3
           60
   
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,
           64
   
To hide those parts which men delight to see,
      
Shall bathe him in a spring; and there hard by,
      
One like ActÆon peeping through the grove
      
Shall by the angry goddess be transform’d,
           68
   
And running in the likeness of an hart
      
By yelping hounds pull’d down, and seem to die;—
      
Such things as these best please his majesty,
      
My lord.—Here comes the king, and the nobles
           72
   
From the parliament. I’ll stand aside.  [Retires.]
      
 
   
Enter KING EDWARD, LANCASTER, the Elder MORTIMER, Young MORTIMER; EDMUND, EARL of KENT; GUY, EARL of WARWICK, and [Attendants]

  K. Edw.  Lancaster!
      
  Lan.  My lord.
      
  Gav.  That Earl of Lancaster do I abhor.  [Aside.]
           76
   
  K. Edw.  Will you not grant me this?—In spite of them
      
I’ll have my will; and these two Mortimers,
      
That cross me thus, shall know I am displeas’d.  [Aside.]
      
  E. Mor.  If you love us, my lord, hate Gaveston.
           80
   
  Gav.  That villain Mortimer! I’ll be his death.  [Aside.]
      
  Y. Mor.  Mine uncle here, this earl, and I myself
      
Were sworn to your father at his death,
      
That he should ne’er return into the realm;
           84
   
And know, my lord, ere I will break my oath,
      
This sword of mine, that should offend your foes,
      
Shall sleep within the scabbard at thy need,
      
And underneath thy banners march who will,
           88
   
For Mortimer will hang his armour up.
      
  Gav.  Mort Dieu!  [Aside.]
      
  K. Edw.  Well, Mortimer, I’ll make thee rue these words.
      
Beseems it thee to contradict thy king?
           92
   
Frown’st thou thereat, aspiring Lancaster?
      
The sword shall plane the furrows of thy brows,
      
And hew these knees that now are grown so stiff.
      
I will have Gaveston; and you shall know
           96
   
What danger’tis to stand against your king.
      
  Gav.  Well done, Ned!  [Aside.]
      
  Lan.  My lord, why do you thus incense your peers,
      
That naturally would love and honour you
           100
   
But for that base and obscure Gaveston?
      
Four earldoms have I, besides Lancaster,—
      
Derby, Salisbury, Lincoln, Leicester,—
      
These will I sell, to give my soldiers pay,
           104
   
Ere Gaveston shall stay within the realm;
      
Therefore, if he be come, expel him straight.
      
  Kent.  Barons and earls, your pride hath made me mute;
      
But now I’ll speak, and to the proof, I hope.
           108
   
I do remember, in my father’s days,
      
Lord Percy of the north, being highly mov’d,
      
Braved Moubery 4 in presence of the king;
      
For which, had not his highness lov’d him well,
           112
   
He should have lost his head; but with his look
      
The undaunted spirit of Percy was appeas’d,
      
And Moubery and he were reconcil’d:
      
Yet dare you brave the king unto his face?—
           116
   
Brother, revenge it, and let these their heads
      
Preach upon poles, for trespass of their tongues.
      
  War.  O, our heads!
      
  K. Edw.  Ay, yours; and therefore I would wish you grant—
           120
   
  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.
           124
   
Come, uncle, let us leave the brain-sick king,
      
And henceforth parley with our naked swords.
      
  E. Mor.  Wiltshire hath men enough to save our heads.
      
  War.  All Warwickshire will love him for my sake. 5
           128
   
  Lan.  And northward Gaveston hath many friends.—
      
Adieu, my lord; and either change your mind,
      
Or look to see the throne, where you should sit,
      
To float in blood; and at thy wanton head,
           132
   
The glozing 6 head of thy base minion thrown.  Exeunt [all except KING EDWARD, KENT, GAVESTON and Attendants]
      
  K. Edw.  I cannot brook these haughty menaces.
      
Am I a king, and must be overrul’d?—
      
Brother, display my ensigns in the field;
           136
   
I’ll bandy 7 with the barons and the earls,
      
And either die or live with Gaveston.
      
  Gav.  I can no longer keep me from my lord.  [Comes forward.]
      
  K. Edw.  What, Gaveston! welcome!—Kiss not my hand—
           140
   
Embrace me, Gaveston, as I do thee.
      
Why should’st thou kneel? Know’st thou not who I am?
      
Thy friend, thyself, another Gaveston!
      
Not Hylas was more mourn’d of Hercules,
           144
   
Than thou hast been of me since thy exile.
      
  Gav.  And since I went from hence, no soul in hell
      
Hath felt more torment than poor Gaveston.
      
  K. Edw.  I know it.—Brother, welcome home my friend.
           148
   
Now let the treacherous Mortimers conspire,
      
And that high-minded Earl of Lancaster:
      
I have my wish, in that I joy thy sight;
      
And sooner shall the sea o’erwhelm my land,
           152
   
Than bear the ship that shall transport thee hence.
      
I here create thee Lord High Chamberlain,
      
Chief Secretary to the state and me,
      
Earl of Cornwall, King and Lord of Man.
           156
   
  Gav.  My lord, these titles far exceed my worth.
      
  Kent.  Brother, the least of these may well suffice
      
For one of greater birth than Gaveston.
      
  K. Edw.  Cease, brother, for I cannot brook these words.
           160
   
Thy worth, sweet friend, is far above my gifts,
      
Therefore, to equal it, receive my heart.
      
If for these dignities thou be envied,
      
I’ll give thee more; for, but to honour thee,
           164
   
Is Edward pleas’d with kingly regiment. 8
      
Fear’st 9 thou thy person? Thou shalt have a guard.
      
Wantest thou gold? Go to my treasury.
      
Wouldst thou be lov’d and fear’d? Receive my seal;
           168
   
Save or condemn, and in our name command
      
Whatso thy mind affects, or fancy likes.
      
  Gav.  It shall suffice me to enjoy your love,
      
Which whiles I have, I think myself as great
           172
   
As CÆsar riding in the Roman street,
      
With captive kings at his triumphant car.
      
 
   
Enter the BISHOP of COVENTRY

  K. Edw.  Whither goes my lord of Coventry so fast?
      
  B. of Cov.  To celebrate your father’s exequies.
           176
   
But is that wicked Gaveston return’d?
      
  K. Edw.  Ay, priest, and lives to be reveng’d on thee,
      
That wert the only cause of his exile.
      
  Gav.  ’Tis true; and but for reverence of these robes,
           180
   
Thou should’st not plod one foot beyond this place.
      
  B. of Cov.  I did no more than I was bound to do;
      
And, Gaveston, unless thou be reclaim’d,
      
As then I did incense the parliament,
           184
   
So will I now, and thou shalt back to France.
      
  Gav.  Saving your reverence, you must pardon me.
      
  K. Edw.  Throw off his golden mitre, rend his stole,
      
And in the channel 10 christen him anew.
           188
   
  Kent.  Ah, brother, lay not violent hands on him!
      
For he’ll complain unto the see of Rome.
      
  Gav.  Let him complain unto the see of hell;
      
I’ll be reveng’d on him for my exile.
           192
   
  K. Edw.  No, spare his life, but seize upon his goods.
      
Be thou lord bishop and receive his rents,
      
And make him serve thee as thy chaplain.
      
I give him thee—here, use him as thou wilt.
           196
   
  Gav.  He shall to prison, and there die in bolts.
      
  K. Edw.  Ay, to the Tower, the Fleet, or where thou wilt.
      
  B. of Cov.  For this offence, be thou accurst of God!
      
  K. Edw.  Who’s there? Convey this priest to the Tower.
           200
   
  B. of Cov.  True, true. 11
      
  K. Edw.  But in the meantime, Gaveston, away,
      
And take possession of his house and goods.
      
Come, follow me, and thou shalt have my guard
           204
   
To see it done, and bring thee safe again.
      
  Gav.  What should a priest do with so fair a house?
      
A prison may best beseem his holiness.  [Exeunt.]

Act the First
   
 
   
Scene II
   
 
   
 
   
[The scene is at Westminster]
Enter [on one side] both the MORTIMERS; [on the other,] WARWICK and LANCASTER

  War.  ’Tis true, the bishop is in the Tower,
      
And goods and body given to Gaveston.
      
  Lan.  What! will they tyrannise upon the church?
      
Ah, wicked king! accursed Gaveston!
           4
   
This ground, which is corrupted with their steps,
      
Shall be their timeless 1 sepulchre or mine.
      
  Y. Mor.  Well, let that peevish Frenchman guard him sure;
      
Unless his breast be sword-proof he shall die.
           8
   
  E. Mor.  How now! why droops the Earl of Lancaster?
      
  Y. Mor.  Wherefore is Guy of Warwick discontent?
      
  Lan.  That villain Gaveston is made an earl.
      
  E. Mor.  An earl!
           12
   
  War.  Ay, and besides Lord Chamberlain of the realm,
      
And Secretary too, and Lord of Man.
      
  E. Mor.  We may not, nor we will not suffer this.
      
  Y. Mor.  Why post we not from hence to levy men?
           16
   
  Lan.  “My Lord of Cornwall” now at every word!
      
And happy is the man whom he vouchsafes,
      
For vailing of his bonnet, 2 one good look.
      
Thus, arm in arm, the king and he doth march:
           20
   
Nay more, the guard upon his lordship waits;
      
And all the court begins to flatter him.
      
  War.  Thus leaning on the shoulder of the king,
      
He nods and scorns and smiles at those that pass.
           24
   
  E. Mor.  Doth no man take exceptions at the slave?
      
  Lan.  All stomach 3 him, but none dare speak a word.
      
  Y. Mor.  Ah, that bewrays their baseness, Lancaster!
      
Were all the earls and barons of my mind,
           28
   
We’ll hale him from the bosom of the king,
      
And at the court-gate hang the peasant up,
      
Who, swoln with venom of ambitious pride,
      
Will be the ruin of the realm and us.
           32
   
 
   
Enter the [ARCH]BISHOP of CANTERBURY [and an Attendant]

  War.  Here comes my lord of Canterbury’s grace.
      
  Lan.  His countenance bewrays 4 he is displeas’d.
      
  A. of Cant.  First were his sacred garments rent and torn,
      
Then laid they violent hands upon him; next
           36
   
Himself imprisoned, and his goods asseiz’d:
      
This certify the Pope;—away, take horse.  [Exit Attendant]
      
  Lan.  My lord, will you take arms against the king?
      
  A. of Cant.  What need I? God himself is up in arms,
           40
   
When violence is offered to the church.
      
  Y. Mor.  Then will you join with us, that be his peers,
      
To banish or behead that Gaveston?
      
  A. of Cant.  What else, my lords? for it concerns me near;
           44
   
The bishopric of Coventry is his.
      
 
   
Enter QUEEN [ISABELLA]

  Y. Mor.  Madam, whither walks your majesty so fast?
      
  Q. Isab.  Unto the forest, gentle Mortimer,
      
To live in grief and baleful discontent;
           48
   
For now, my lord, the king regards me not,
      
But doats upon the love of Gaveston.
      
He claps his cheeks, and hangs about his neck,
      
Smiles in his face, and whispers in his ears;
           52
   
And when I come he frowns, as who should say,
      
“Go whither thou wilt, seeing I have Gaveston.”
      
  E. Mor.  Is it not strange that he is thus bewitch’d?
      
  Y. Mor.  Madam, return unto the court again.
           56
   
That sly inveigling Frenchman we’ll exile,
      
Or lose our lives; and yet, ere that day come,
      
The king shall lose his crown; for we have power,
      
And courage too, to be reveng’d at full.
           60
   
  Q. Isab.  But yet lift not your swords against the king.
      
  Lan.  No; but we will lift Gaveston from hence.
      
  War.  And war must be the means, or he’ll stay still.
      
  Q. Isab.  Then let him stay; for rather than my lord
           64
   
Shall be oppress’d with civil mutinies,
      
I will endure a melancholy life,
      
And let him frolic with his minion.
      
  A. of Cant.  My lords, to ease all this, but hear me speak:—
           68
   
We and the rest, that are his counsellors,
      
Will meet, and with a general consent
      
Confirm his banishment with our hands and seals.
      
  Lan.  What we confirm the king will frustrate.
           72
   
  Y. Mor.  Then may we lawfully revolt from him.
      
  War.  But say, my lord, where shall this meeting be?
      
  A. of Cant.  At the New Temple.
      
  Y. Mor.  Content.
           76
   
  A. of Cant.  And, in the meantime, I’ll entreat you all
      
To cross to Lambeth, and there stay with me.
      
  Lan.  Come then, let’s away.
      
  Y. Mor.  Madam, farewell!
           80
   
  Q. Isab.  Farewell, sweet Mortimer; and, for my sake,
      
Forbear to levy arms against the king.
      
  Y. Mor.  Ay, if words will serve; if not, I must.  [Exeunt.]

Act the First
   
 
   
Scene III
   
 
   
 
   
Enter GAVESTON and KENT

  Gav.  Edmund, the mighty Prince of Lancaster,
      
That hath more earldoms than an ass can bear,
      
And both the Mortimers, two goodly men,
      
With Guy of Warwick, that redoubted knight,
           4
   
Are gone toward Lambeth—there let them remain!  Exeunt.

Act the First
   
 
   
Scene IV
   
 
   
 
   
Enter [LANCASTER, WARWICK, PEMBROKE, the Elder MORTIMER, Young MORTIMER, the ARCHBISHOP of CANTERBURY and Attendants]

  Lan.  Here is the form of Gaveston’s exile:
      
May it please your lordship to subscribe your name.
      
  A. of Cant.  Give me the paper.  [He subscribes, as do the others after him.]
      
  Lan.  Quick, quick, my lord; I long to write my name.
           4
   
  War.  But I long more to see him banish’d hence.
      
  Y. Mor.  The name of Mortimer shall fright the king,
      
Unless he be declin’d from that base peasant.
      
 
   
Enter KING EDWARD, GAVESTON, [and KENT]

  K. Edw.  What, are you mov’d that Gaveston sits here?
           8
   
It is our pleasure; we will have it so.
      
  Lan.  Your grace doth well to place him by your side,
      
For nowhere else the new earl is so safe.
      
  E. Mor.  What man of noble birth can brook this sight?
           12
   
Quam male conveniunt! 1
      
See what a scornful look the peasant casts!
      
  Pem.  Can kingly lions fawn on creeping ants?
      
  War.  Ignoble vassal, that like Phaeton
           16
   
Aspir’st unto the guidance of the sun!
      
  Y. Mor.  Their downfall is at hand, their forces down;
      
We will not thus be fac’d and over-peer’d.
      
  K. Edw.  Lay hands on that traitor Mortimer!
           20
   
  E. Mor.  Lay hands on that traitor Gaveston!
      
  Kent.  Is this the duty that you owe your king?
      
  War.  We know our duties—let him know his peers.
      
  K. Edw.  Whither will you bear him? Stay, or ye shall die.
           24
   
  E. Mor.  We are no traitors; therefore threaten not.
      
  Gav.  No, threaten not, my lord, but pay them home!
      
Were I a king—
      
  Y. Mor.  Thou villain, wherefore talk’st thou of a king,
           28
   
That hardly art a gentleman by birth?
      
  K. Edw.  Were he a peasant, being my minion,
      
I’ll make the proudest of you stoop to him.
      
  Lan.  My lord, you may not thus disparage us.—
           32
   
Away, I say, with hateful Gaveston!
      
  E. Mor.  And with the Earl of Kent that favours him.  [Attendants remove KENT and GAVESTON.]
      
  K. Edw.  Nay, then, lay violent hands upon your king.
      
Here, Mortimer, sit thou in Edward’s throne;
           36
   
Warwick and Lancaster, wear you my crown.
      
Was ever king thus over-rul’d as I?
      
  Lan.  Learn then to rule us better, and the realm.
      
  Y. Mor.  What we have done, our heart-blood shall maintain.
           40
   
  War.  Think you that we can brook this upstart pride?
      
  K. Edw.  Anger and wrathful fury stops my speech.
      
  A. of Cant.  Why are you mov’d? Be patient, my lord,
      
And see what we your counsellors have done.
           44
   
  Y. Mor.  My lords, now let us all be resolute,
      
And either have our wills, or lose our lives.
      
  K. Edw.  Meet you for this, proud overbearing peers?
      
Ere my sweet Gaveston shall part from me,
           48
   
This isle shall fleet 2 upon the ocean,
      
And wander to the unfrequented Inde.
      
  A. of Cant.  You know that I am legate to the Pope.
      
On your allegiance to the see of Rome,
           52
   
Subscribe, as we have done, to his exile.
      
  Y. Mor.  Curse him, if he refuse; and then may we
      
Depose him and elect another king.
      
  K. Edw.  Ay, there it goes! but yet I will not yield.
           56
   
Curse me, depose me, do the worst you can.
      
  Lan.  Then linger not, my lord, but do it straight.
      
  A. of Cant.  Remember how the bishop was abus’d!
      
Either banish him that was the cause thereof,
           60
   
Or I will presently discharge these lords
      
Of duty and allegiance due to thee.
      
  K. Edw.  [Aside.] It boots me not to threat; I must speak fair.—
      
The legate of the Pope will be obey’d.
           64
   
My lord, you shall be Chancellor of the realm;
      
Thou, Lancaster, High Admiral of our fleet;
      
Young Mortimer and his uncle shall be earls;
      
And you, Lord Warwick, President of the North;
           68
   
And thou, of Wales. If this content you not,
      
Make several kingdoms of this monarchy,
      
And share it equally amongst you all,
      
So I may have some nook or corner left,
           72
   
To frolic with my dearest Gaveston.
      
  A. of Cant.  Nothing shall alter us, we are resolv’d.
      
  Lan.  Come, come, subscribe.
      
  Y. Mor.  Why should you love him whom the world hates so?
           76
   
  K. Edw.  Because he loves me more than all the world.
      
Ah, none but rude and savage-minded men
      
Would seek the ruin of my Gaveston;
      
You that be noble-born should pity him.
           80
   
  War.  You that are princely-born should shake him off.
      
For shame subscribe, and let the lown 3 depart.
      
  E. Mor.  Urge him, my lord.
      
  A. of Cant.  Are you content to banish him the realm?
           84
   
  K. Edw.  I see I must, and therefore am content.
      
Instead of ink, I’ll write it with my tears.  [Subscribes.]
      
  Y. Mor.  The king is love-sick for his minion.
      
  K. Edw.  ’Tis done; and now, accursed hand, fall off!
           88
   
  Lan.  Give it me; I’ll have it publish’d in the streets.
      
  Y. Mor.  I’ll see him presently despatch’d away.
      
  A. of Cant.  Now is my heart at ease.
      
  War.  And so is mine.
           92
   
  Pem.  This will be good news to the common sort.
      
  E. Mor.  Be it or no, he shall not linger here.  Exeunt all except KING EDWARD.
      
  K. Edw.  How fast they run to banish him I love!
      
They would not stir, were it to do me good.
           96
   
Why should a king be subject to a priest?
      
Proud Rome! that hatchest such imperial grooms,
      
For these thy superstitious taper-lights,
      
Wherewith thy antichristian churches blaze,
           100
   
I’ll fire thy crazed buildings, and enforce
      
The papal towers to kiss the lowly ground!
      
With slaughtered priests make Tiber’s channel swell,
      
And banks rais’d higher with their sepulchres!
           104
   
As for the peers, that back the clergy thus,
      
If I be king, not one of them shall live.
      
 
   
Re-enter GAVESTON

  Gav.  My lord, I hear it whispered everywhere,
      
That I am banish’d, and must fly the land.
           108
   
  K. Edw.  ’Tis true, sweet Gaveston—O! were it false!
      
The legate of the Pope will have it so,
      
And thou must hence, or I shall be depos’d.
      
But I will reign to be reveng’d of them;
           112
   
And therefore, sweet friend, take it patiently.
      
Live where thou wilt, I’ll send thee gold enough;
      
And long thou shalt not stay, or if thou dost,
      
I’ll come to thee; my love shall ne’er decline.
           116
   
  Gav.  Is all my hope turn’d to this hell of grief?
      
  K. Edw.  Rend not my heart with thy too-piercing words:
      
Thou from this land, I from myself am banish’d.
      
  Gav.  To go from hence grieves not poor Gaveston;
           120
   
But to forsake you, in whose gracious looks
      
The blessedness of Gaveston remains,
      
For nowhere else seeks he felicity.
      
  K. Edw.  And only this torments my wretched soul
           124
   
That, whether I will or no, thou must depart.
      
Be governor of Ireland in my stead,
      
And there abide till fortune call thee home.
      
Here take my picture, and let me wear thine;  [They exchange pictures.]
           128
   
O, might I keep thee here as I do this,
      
Happy were I! but now most miserable!
      
  Gav.  ’Tis something to be pitied of a king.
      
  K. Edw.  Thou shalt not hence—I’ll hide thee, Gaveston.
           132
   
  Gav.  I shall be found, and then ’twill grieve me more.
      
  K. Edw.  Kind words and mutual talk makes our grief greater;
      
Therefore, with dumb embracement, let us part.—
      
Stay, Gaveston, I cannot leave thee thus.
           136
   
  Gav.  For every look, my lord 4 drops down a tear.
      
Seeing I must go, do not renew my sorrow.
      
  K. Edw.  The time is little that thou hast to stay,
      
And, therefore, give me leave to look my fill.
           140
   
But come, sweet friend, I’ll bear thee on thy way.
      
  Gav.  The peers will frown.
      
  K. Edw.  I pass 5 not for their anger—Come, let’s go;
      
O that we might as well return as go.
           144
   
 
   
Enter EDMUND and QUEEN ISABELLA

  Q. Isab.  Whither goes my lord?
      
  K. Edw.  Fawn not on me, French strumpet! Get thee gone!
      
  Q. Isab.  On whom but on my husband should I fawn?
      
  Gav.  On Mortimer! with whom, ungentle queen—
           148
   
I say no more. Judge you the rest, my lord.
      
  Q. Isab.  In saying this, thou wrong’st me, Gaveston.
      
Is’t not enough that thou corrupt’st my lord,
      
And art a bawd to his affections,
           152
   
But thou must call mine honour thus in question?
      
  Gav.  I mean not so; your grace must pardon me.
      
  K. Edw.  Thou art too familiar with that Mortimer,
      
And by thy means is Gaveston exil’d;
           156
   
But I would wish thee reconcile the lords,
      
Or thou shalt ne’er be reconcil’d to me.
      
  Q. Isab.  Your highness knows it lies not in my power.
      
  K. Edw.  Away then! touch me not.—Come, Gaveston.
           160
   
  Q. Isab.  Villain! ’tis thou that robb’st me of my lord.
      
  Gav.  Madam, ’tis you that rob me of my lord.
      
  K. Edw.  Speak not unto her; let her droop and pine.
      
  Q. Isab.  Wherein, my lord, have I deserv’d these words?
           164
   
Witness the tears that Isabella sheds,
      
Witness this heart, that, sighing for thee, breaks,
      
How dear my lord is to poor Isabel.
      
  K. Edw.  And witness Heaven how dear thou art to me!
           168
   
There weep; for till my Gaveston be repeal’d,
      
Assure thyself thou com’st not in my sight.  Exeunt EDWARD and GAVESTON.
      
  Q. Isab.  O miserable and distressed queen!
      
Would, when I left sweet France and was embark’d,
           172
   
That charming Circe, walking on the waves,
      
Had chang’d my shape, or at the marriage-day
      
The cup of Hymen had been full of poison,
      
Or with those arms that twin’d about my neck
           176
   
I had been stifled, and not liv’d to see
      
The king my lord thus to abandon me!
      
Like frantic Juno will I fill the earth
      
With ghastly murmur of my sighs and cries;
           180
   
For never doated Jove on Ganymede
      
So much as he on cursed Gaveston.
      
But that will more exasperate his wrath;
      
I must entreat him, I must speak him fair,
           184
   
And be a means to call home Gaveston.
      
And yet he’ll ever doat on Gaveston;
      
And so am I for ever miserable.
      
 
   
Re-enter LANCASTER, WARWICK, PEMBROKE, the Elder MORTIMER, and Young MORTIMER

  Lan.  Look where the sister of the King of France
           188
   
Sits wringing of her hands, and beats her breast!
      
  War.  The king, I fear, hath ill-entreated her.
      
  Pem.  Hard is the heart that injures such a saint.
      
  Y. Mor.  I know ’tis ’long of Gaveston she weeps.
           192
   
  E. Mor.  Why? He is gone.
      
  Y. Mor.        Madam, how fares your grace?
      
  Q. Isab.  Ah, Mortimer! now breaks the king’s hate forth,
      
And he confesseth that he loves me not.
           196
   
  Y. Mor.  Cry quittance, madam, then; and love not him.
      
  Q. Isab.  No, rather will I die a thousand deaths!
      
And yet I love in vain;—he’ll ne’er love me.
      
  Lan.  Fear ye not, madam; now his minion’s gone,
           200
   
His wanton humour will be quickly left.
      
  Q. Isab.  O never, Lancaster! I am enjoin’d
      
To sue upon you all for his repeal;
      
This wills my lord, and this must I perform,
           204
   
Or else be banish’d from his highness’ presence.
      
  Lan.  For his repeal? Madam, he comes not back,
      
Unless the sea cast up his shipwreck’d body.
      
  War.  And to behold so sweet a sight as that,
           208
   
There’s none here but would run his horse to death.
      
  Y. Mor.  But, madam, would you have us call him home?
      
  Q. Isab.  Ay, Mortimer, for till he be restor’d,
      
The angry king hath banish’d me the court;
           212
   
And, therefore, as thou lov’st and tend’rest me,
      
Be thou my advocate unto these peers.
      
  Y. Mor.  What! would you have me plead for Gaveston?
      
  E. Mor.  Plead for him he that will, I am resolv’d.
           216
   
  Lan.  And so am I, my lord. Dissuade the queen.
      
  Q. Isab.  O Lancaster! let him dissuade the king,
      
For ’tis against my will he should return.
      
  War.  Then speak not for him, let the peasant go.
           220
   
  Q. Isab.  ’Tis for myself I speak, and not for him.
      
  Pem.  No speaking will prevail, and therefore cease.
      
  Y. Mor.  Fair queen, forbear to angle for the fish
      
Which, being caught, strikes him that takes it dead;
           224
   
I mean that vile torpedo, Gaveston,
      
That now, I hope, floats on the Irish seas.
      
  Q. Isab.  Sweet Mortimer, sit down by me awhile,
      
And I will tell thee reasons of such weight
           228
   
As thou wilt soon subscribe to his repeal.
      
  Y. Mor.  It is impossible; but speak your mind.
      
  Q. Isab.  Then thus, but none shall hear it but ourselves.  [Talks to Young MORTIMER apart.]
      
  Lan.  My lords, albeit the queen win Mortimer,
           232
   
Will you be resolute, and hold with me?
      
  E. Mor.  Not I, against my nephew.
      
  Pem.  Fear not, the queen’s words cannot alter him.
      
  War.  No? Do but mark how earnestly she pleads!
           236
   
  Lan.  And see how coldly his looks make denial!
      
  War.  She smiles; now for my life his mind is chang’d!
      
  Lan.  I’ll rather lose his friendship, I, than grant.
      
  Y. Mor.  Well, of necessity it must be so.
           240
   
My lords, that I abhor base Gaveston,
      
I hope your honours make no question,
      
And therefore, though I plead for his repeal,
      
’Tis not for his sake, but for our avail;
           244
   
Nay for the realm’s behoof, and for the king’s.
      
  Lan.  Fie, Mortimer, dishonour not thyself!
      
Can this be true, ’twas good to banish him?
      
And is this true, to call him home again?
           248
   
Such reasons make white black, and dark night day.
      
  Y. Mor.  My lord of Lancaster, mark the respect. 6
      
  Lan.  In no respect can contraries be true.
      
  Q. Isab.  Yet, good my lord, hear what he can allege.
           252
   
  War.  All that he speaks is nothing; we are resolv’d.
      
  Y. Mor.  Do you not wish that Gaveston were dead?
      
  Pem.  I would he were!
      
  Y. Mor.  Why, then, my lord, give me but leave to speak.
           256
   
  E. Mor.  But, nephew, do not play the sophister.
      
  Y. Mor.  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,
           260
   
Which may in Ireland purchase him such friends
      
As he will front the mightest of us all?
      
And whereas he shall live and be belov’d,
      
’Tis hard for us to work his overthrow.
           264
   
  War.  Mark you but that, my lord of Lancaster.
      
  Y. Mor.  But were he here, detested as he is,
      
How easily might some base slave be suborn’d
      
To greet his lordship with a poniard,
           268
   
And none so much as blame the murderer,
      
But rather praise him for that brave attempt,
      
And in the chronicle enrol his name
      
For purging of the realm of such a plague!
           272
   
  Pem.  He saith true.
      
  Lan.  Ay, but how chance this was not done before?
      
  Y. Mor.  Because, my lords, it was not thought upon.
      
Nay, more, when he shall know it lies in us
           276
   
To banish him, and then to call him home,
      
’Twill make him vail 7 the top-flag of his pride,
      
And fear to offend the meanest nobleman.
      
  E. Mor.  But how if he do not, nephew?
           280
   
  Y. Mor.  Then may we with some colour rise in arms;
      
For howsoever we have borne it out,
      
’Tis treason to be up against the king.
      
So we shall have the people of our side,
           284
   
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.
           288
   
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.
      
My lords, if to perform this I be slack,
           292
   
Think me as base a groom as Gaveston.
      
  Lan.  On that condition, Lancaster will grant.
      
  War.  And so will Pembroke and I.
      
  E. Mor.  And I.
           296
   
  Y. Mor.  In this I count me highly gratified,
      
And Mortimer will rest at your command.
      
  Q. Isab.  And when this favour Isabel forgets,
      
Then let her live abandon’d and forlorn.—
           300
   
But see, in happy time, my lord the king,
      
Having brought the Earl of Cornwall on his way,
      
Is new return’d. This news will glad him much,
      
Yet not so much as me. I love him more
           304
   
Than he can Gaveston; would he lov’d me
      
But half so much, then were I treble-bless’d.
      
 
   
Re-enter KING EDWARD, mourning

  K. Edw.  He’s gone, and for his absence thus I mourn.
      
Did never sorrow go so near my heart
           308
   
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 gain’d, having bought so dear a friend.
           312
   
  Q. Isab.  Hark! how he harps upon his minion.
      
  K. Edw.  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,
           316
   
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 forc’d to leave my Gaveston!
           320
   
  Lan.  Diablo! What passions call you these?
      
  Q. Isab.  My gracious lord, I come to bring you news.
      
  K. Edw.  That you have parley’d with your Mortimer!
      
  Q. Isab.  That Gaveston, my lord, shall be repeal’d.
           324
   
  K. Edw.  Repeal’d! The news is too sweet to be true?
      
  Q. Isab.  But will you love me, if you find it so?
      
  K. Edw.  If it be so, what will not Edward do?
      
  Q. Isab.  For Gaveston, but not for Isabel.
           328
   
  K. Edw.  For thee, fair queen, if thou lov’st Gaveston.
      
I’ll hang a golden tongue about thy neck,
      
Seeing thou hast pleaded with so good success.
      
  Q. Isab.  No other jewels hang about my neck
           332
   
Than these, my lord; nor let me have more wealth
      
Than I may fetch from this rich treasury.
      
O how a kiss revives poor Isabel!
      
  K. Edw.  Once more receive my hand; and let this be
           336
   
A second marriage ’twixt thyself and me.
      
  Q. Isab.  And may it prove more happy than the first!
      
My gentle lord, bespeak these nobles fair,
      
That wait attendance for a gracious look,
           340
   
And on their knees salute your majesty.
      
  K. Edw.  Courageous Lancaster, embrace thy king!
      
And, as gross vapours perish by the sun,
      
Even so let hatred with thy sovereign’s smile.
           344
   
Live thou with me as my companion.
      
  Lan.  This salutation overjoys my heart.
      
  K. Edw.  Warwick shall be my chiefest counsellor:
      
These silver hairs will more adorn my court
           348
   
Than gaudy silks, or rich embroidery.
      
Chide me, sweet Warwick, if I go astray.
      
  War.  Slay me, my lord, when I offend your grace.
      
  K. Edw.  In solemn triumphs, and in public shows,
           352
   
Pembroke shall bear the sword before the king.
      
  Pem.  And with this sword Pembroke will fight for you.
      
  K. Edw.  But wherefore walks young Mortimer aside?
      
Be thou commander of our royal fleet;
           356
   
Or, if that lofty office like thee not,
      
I make thee here Lord Marshal of the realm.
      
  Y. Mor.  My lord, I’ll marshal so your enemies,
      
As England shall be quiet, and you safe.
           360
   
  K. Edw.  And as for you, Lord Mortimer of Chirke,
      
Whose great achievements in our foreign war
      
Deserves no common place nor mean reward,
      
Be you the general of the levied troops,
           364
   
That now are ready to assail the Scots.
      
  E. Mor.  In this your grace hath highly honoured me,
      
For with my nature war doth best agree.
      
  Q. Isab.  Now is the King of England rich and strong,
           368
   
Having the love of his renowned peers.
      
  K. Edw.  Ay, Isabel, ne’er was my heart so light.
      
Clerk of the crown, direct our warrant forth
      
For Gaveston to Ireland:
           372
   
 
   
[Enter BEAUMONT with warrant.]

        Beaumont, fly
      
As fast as Iris or Jove’s Mercury.
      
  Bea.  It shall be done, my gracious lord.  [Exit.]
      
  K. Edw.  Lord Mortimer, we leave you to your charge.
           376
   
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 solemnis’d.
           380
   
For wot you not that I have made him sure 8
      
Unto our cousin, the Earl of Gloucester’s heir?
      
  Lan.  Such news we hear, my lord.
      
  K. Edw.  That day, if not for him, yet for my sake,
           384
   
Who in the triumph will be challenger,
      
Spare for no cost; we will requit your love.
      
  War.  In this, or aught, your highness shall command us.
      
  K. Edw.  Thanks, gentle Warwick: come, let’s in and revel.  Exeunt all except the MORTIMERS.
           388
   
  E. Mor.  Nephew, I must to Scotland; thou stayest here.
      
Leave now t’oppose thyself against the king.
      
Thou seest by nature he is mild and calm,
      
And, seeing his mind so doats on Gaveston,
           392
   
Let him without controlment have his will.
      
The mightiest kings have had their minions:
      
Great Alexander loved Hephestion;
      
The conquering Hercules 9 for Hylas wept;
           396
   
And for Patroclus stern Achilles drooped
      
And not kings only, but the wisest men:
      
The Roman Tully lov’d Octavius;
      
Grave Socrates, wild Alcibiades.
           400
   
Then let his grace, whose youth is flexible,
      
And promiseth as much as we can wish,
      
Freely enjoy that vain, light-headed earl;
      
For riper years will wean him from such toys.
           404
   
  Y. Mor.  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.
           408
   
While soldiers mutiny for want of pay,
      
He wears a lord’s revenue on his back,
      
And Midas-like, he jets 10 it in the court,
      
With base outlandish cullions 11 at his heels,
           412
   
Whose proud fantastic liveries make such show
      
As if that Proteus, god of shapes, appear’d.
      
I have not seen a dapper Jack so brisk;
      
He wears a short Italian hooded cloak
           416
   
Larded with pearl, and, in his Tuscan cap,
      
A jewel of more value than the crown.
      
While others walk below, the king and he
      
From out a window laugh at such as we,
           420
   
And flout our train, and jest at our attire.
      
Uncle, ’tis this that makes me impatient.
      
  E. Mor.  But, nephew, now you see the king is chang’d.
      
  Y. Mor.  Then so am I, and live to do him service:
           424
   
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.