ge in
attempting a character less congenial to his natural temperament
deserved the success it achieved. The Tamburlaine element is not
withheld; the fierce baron, young Mortimer, inherits that conqueror's
ambitious nature, and fully maintains the great traditions of strength,
pride and defiance. But Mortimer is only the second figure in order of
importance. Upon the king Marlowe pours all the fruits of his experience
in dramatic work.

From the historical point of view the dramatist is signally successful
in making the men of the past live over again. His weak monarch is more
intensely human than any mightier, more kingly ruler would probably have
been in his hands. And the barons, in their haughtiness and easy
aptitude for revolt, are, to the life, the fierce men whose grandfathers
and fathers in turn fought against their sovereigns and whose
descendants fell in the fratricidal Wars of the Roses. Moreover the
chronicle of the reign is followed with reasonable accuracy, if we make
due allowance for dramatic requirements. It can hardly be said that the
author's representation of Edward is impartial: a kindly veil is drawn
over the lawlessness of his government and the disgrace brought upon
English arms by his military incapacity. But the political intrigue, the
friction between monarch and subjects, the helplessness of the king to
enforce his wishes, are all brought back vividly.

However, it is Marlowe's adaptation of a historical subject to a loftier
purpose than the mere renewal of the past which gives real greatness to
the play. Here at last his work attains to the full stature and noble
harmony of a tragedy, not on the highest level, it is true, but
dignified and moving. The catastrophe is physical, not moral, and thus
the play lacks the awful horror half-revealed in _Doctor Faustus_. But
whereas the latter, reaching after the greatest things, falls short of
success, _Edward the Second_, content with less, easily secures a first
place in the second rank.

By a neat device we are introduced, at the outset, to the king, his
favourite, and the fatal choice from which springs all the misery of the
reign. For the opening lines, spoken by Gaveston himself, are no less
than the royal message bidding him return to 'share the kingdom' with
his friend. From that point the first portion of the play easily
unfolds: it deals with the strife, the brief triumphs and the bitter
defeats which fill the eventful period of this ill