Authors: Bertolt Brecht
London believes he is with you.
RICE AP HOWELL:
Berkeley had an order signed by Mortimer.
KENT:
‘Tis strange that no one’s seen the king
Face to face and strange that no one’s
Heard him and strange that now he speaks
In Mortimer’s mouth.
RICE AP HOWELL:
‘Tis strange indeed.
KENT:
Therefore to Berkeley swiftly will I hie
To learn from Edward’s mouth what’s truth, what lie.
THE QUEEN LAUGHS AT THE WORLD’S EMPTINESS.
The Queen, Mortimer, the two brothers Gurney
.
MORTIMER:
Did Berkeley give him to you willingly?
ELDER GURNEY:
No.
ANNE
aside
:
Here among the tapestries of Westminster it reeks
Of strangled chickens. You walked easier
In Scottish air.
MORTIMER
talking with the Gurneys
:
Look you, this Berkeley was a man
With milk in his bones, who wept too easy.
If he saw someone draw another’s tooth
He’d faint on you. The earth lie easy on him.
You are not other such?
ELDER GURNEY:
Oh no, my lord, we are not of that sort.
ANNE:
Business! Business! The smell of too much
History between the walls of
Westminster. Will your hands not
Peel in London’s lye? Your
Hands are scribbler’s hands.
MORTIMER:
Where is your prisoner?
YOUNGER GURNEY:
North east south west from Berkeley, my lord.
MORTIMER:
See there are men whom cold air
Cannot harm. Know you aught
Of geography? Could you show England
To a man who knows it all too little?
In all directions?
ELDER GURNEY:
So we should lead him round about?
MORTIMER:
And specially where there’s no sun nor men.
ELDER GURNEY:
Good, my lord, we are the men for that.
ANNE:
Ale! Ale! Jonah sat and waited
For the promised overthrow of Nineveh
But in those days God came that way
No more and Nineveh fell not. Now
I have richly eaten and am full of food
And I can eat more now than in the time
When I was growing. Are you learned still
In metaphysics, Earl Mortimer?
MORTIMER:
There are, to be sure, men who talk
From morn till night.
YOUNGER GURNEY:
We are other men than that.
MORTIMER:
Have you ever read a Chronicle?
ELDER GURNEY:
No. No.
MORTIMER:
‘Tis good.
Exeunt the two Gurneys
.
MORTIMER:
We hold an old wolf by the ear
That if he slip will seize upon us both.
ANNE:
Do you sleep badly? See something white at night?
Often? They are sheets, Mortimer, nothing else.
It comes from the stomach.
MORTIMER:
At his name the Commons turn to water.
ANNE:
He of whom it seems you speak, is silent.
MORTIMER:
Since he is obdurate and will not speak
Lies with lies must be o’erlain.
ANNE:
Business! Business! The days fly too slow
For me in Westminster and too many.
MORTIMER:
Husband’s murder comes soon after father’s murder
In the catechism.
ANNE:
You’ve an indulgence.
MORTIMER:
With knees wide and closed eyes
Catching at anything, you are insatiable, Anne.
You eat in your sleep and talk in sleep
Of things shall kill me.
ANNE:
I sleep, you say. How do you wake me?
MORTIMER:
With Westminster bells and grinding teeth
And in despite of these incredulous lords
You should crown your son in haste.
ANNE:
Not my son, I pray you!
Not this child, suckled by a she-wolf’s milk
In weeks when she was wandering, dragged
Through bogs and hills in dark Scotland
Not this child
Too much night upon his lids to look up guiltless
Entangled in the filthy net with which you fish.
MORTIMER:
Dragging a little burden from
An age-old slimy pond, always
Though weary in the flesh, I see hanging from it
Human weed. More and more.
Hoisting myself up I feel ever a new
Weight.
And from the knees of the last another
Last. Human coils.
And at the moving wheel of this pulley block
Of human coils, breathless, lugging at them all
Myself.
ANNE:
Name the faces of those human weeds.
My husband Edward? My son Edward?
MORTIMER:
Yours.
ANNE:
Often I feared that these tired arms
With which I held a man upright perforce
Must yield, but now I know, when age
Has mingled weariness in my veins’ flow
My outstretched arms are but a crude pretence
A vain machine that grabs – naught else
Remains. Roger Mortimer, I am
Tired and old.
Enter Young Edward
.
MORTIMER:
Hook your dress up, Anne, so your son
See not tear-stained flesh.
YOUNG EDWARD:
Take this intruder, mother, from our sight.
We would have talk with you.
ANNE:
Earl Mortimer, child, is thy mother’s prop.
YOUNG EDWARD:
I pray you for news of my father Edward.
ANNE:
If thy mother, child, hung on thy poor lips
This most fearful choice, say, wouldst thou
Go with her unto the Tower if by
Thy answer’s colour the dice so fell?
Young Edward is silent
.
MORTIMER:
You show wise caution, Edward.
YOUNG EDWARD:
You should drink less, mother.
Anne laughs
.
Exit Young Edward
.
MORTIMER:
Why do you laugh?
Anne is silent
.
MORTIMER:
So prepare we in haste the boy’s crowning.
For this our business wears another face
When a king’s name is underwrit.
ANNE:
What has or ever will befall –
If Heaven will pardon it or no –
Your blood I’ve tasted and will not let you go
Till all this crack.
Meanwhile write, underwrite, decree
As you think fit. I will seal it for you sure.
She laughs
.
MORTIMER:
Why do you laugh a second time?
ANNE:
I laugh for the world’s emptiness.
KENT
alone
:
Berkeley is dead and Edward disappeared.
And Mortimer, in London, ever bolder, claims
In Berkeley’s hearing Edward resigned the crown.
The light is murky now for us, Edward Longshanks’
Sons. Already there’s a sign the sky will brighten.
The Commons were in uproar, clamoured
To be told the prisoner’s whereabouts
And many called him poor Edward.
In Wales the people murmured against the butcher Mortimer.
Perchance now only crows and ravens
Know where lies Edward of England.
And I had hopes my rue came not too late!
Who is that poor man there mid pikes and lances?
Enter Edward, the two Gurneys, soldiers
.
YOUNGER GURNEY:
Holà. Who comes there?
ELDER GURNEY:
Guard the King sure; it is his brother, Kent.
EDWARD:
O gentle brother, help to rescue me!
ELDER GURNEY:
Keep them asunder! Away with the prisoner!
KENT:
Soldiers, let me but talk to him one word.
YOUNGER GURNEY:
Stop up his mouth!
ELDER GURNEY:
Throw him in the ditch!
Edward is taken out
.
KENT
alone
:
Edward, hast resigned? Edward! Edward!
Woe to us!
They drag England’s king away like a calf.
3
DECEMBER
1325:
THE MIGHTY EARL ROGER MORTIMER IS TAKEN TO TASK FOR THE KING’S DISAPPEARANCE
Mortimer, Queen, Lord Abbot, Rice ap Howell
.
ABBOT:
My Lord, like to a canker grows the rumour
Edward has not resigned.
MORTIMER:
At Berkeley, in Robert Berkeley’s hearing
Edward the Second resigned, unforced.
ABBOT:
In my hearing, at Shrewsbury, clearly
Edward cried: No.
RICE AP HOWELL:
And thus often to me.
ABBOT:
It were good if this Berkeley
Could testify on oath before the Commons
How and ’fore whom Edward put away the crown.
MORTIMER:
Today I have news from Lord Berkeley
That he is on his way to London.
RICE AP HOWELL:
And where is the king?
MORTIMER:
At Berkeley, where else? Too much knowledge, Rice ap Howell
Dulls the appetite. Since I set aside
Books and learning I sleep better and digest.
RICE AP HOWELL:
Yes, but where is Edward?
MORTIMER:
I know nothing of your Edward, I love
Him not nor hate, he comes not
In my dreams. For things concerning him
Turn to Berkeley, not to me! Yourself, Winchester
Were against him.
ABBOT:
The Church was, with whom God was.
MORTIMER:
With whom was God?
ABBOT:
With him who conquered, Mortimer.
Enter Kent with Young Edward
.
KENT:
We hear my brother
Is no more at Shrewsbury.
MORTIMER:
Your brother is at Berkeley, Edmund.
KENT:
We hear he is no more at Berkeley either.
MORTIMER:
Since Harwich rumours grow like
Mildew in the rain.
ANNE:
Come to thy mother, child.
MORTIMER:
How fares my honourable Lord of Kent?
KENT:
In health, sweet Mortimer. And you
My lady?
ANNE:
Well, Kent. Times are good for me and I
Am quite content. This past week I was
Fishing in Tynemouth.
MORTIMER:
To have gone fishing years ago at Tynemouth
Truly would have done a certain man
No harm.
ANNE:
Go fishing at Tynemouth next week with me, Kent.
MORTIMER
aside
:
You eat too much and do not chew, Anne.
ANNE
aside
:
I eat, I drink, I love with you.
ABBOT:
What were you saying, my Lord of Berkeley?
MORTIMER
to Kent
:
You were missed in London for three weeks.
KENT:
I rode across the mangled countryside
And meditated on my brother’s tracks.
YOUNG EDWARD:
Mother, persuade me not to wear the crown
I’ll not do it.
ANNE:
You should be pleased. The Barons wish it.
MORTIMER:
London wills it.
YOUNG EDWARD:
Let me speak with my father first
And then I will.
KENT:
That’s a good answer, Ned.
ANNE:
Brother, you know it is impossible.
YOUNG EDWARD:
Is he dead?
KENT:
London says many things.
You must have knowledge, Roger Mortimer.
MORTIMER:
I? In Little Street at brightest noon
Five sharks were seen to go into a tavern
Take ale, and then, a little merry
To kneel in Westminster Abbey.
Laughter
.
KENT:
They prayed, sure, for Berkeley’s soul.
MORTIMER:
Inconstant Edmund, dost thou favour him
Who wast the cause of his imprisonment?
KENT:
The more cause now to make amends.
YOUNG EDWARD:
Aye aye!
KENT:
Ned, I counsel thee, be not wheedled
Take not the crown from thy father’s head.
YOUNG EDWARD:
Indeed I will not.
RICE AP HOWELL:
He will not, Edward.
MORTIMER
takes Young Edward and drags him to his mother
:
My Lady, signify to your son Edward
It is not England’s wont to suffer