gns in the field:
I'll bandy with the barons and the earls,
And either die or live with Gaveston.

Nor is this pride of sovereignty lost even in defeat. We see it still as
strong, though forced by circumstances and coaxed to give way, in the
pathetic scene where he is compelled to surrender his crown to
Mortimer's delegate. Nevertheless the weakness that brings and justifies
his downfall is placed prominently before us from the first. King Edward
prefers his own pleasure before the unity of his kingdom and the
strength of his rule. There is even something a little ignoble in his
love for Gaveston, something unmanly and contemptible, if the reports of
such prejudiced persons as the queen and Mortimer are to be believed.
But the fault is not a criminal or unnatural one. One can sympathize
with a heart that yearns for the presence of a single friend in a world
of cold-blooded critics or harsh counsellors. The not unattractive
character of Gaveston, too, affectionate, gay, proud, quick-tempered,
brave--with faults also, of deceit, vanity and vindictiveness--preserves
the royal friendship from the sink of blind dotage upon an unworthy
creature. The tragedy follows, then, from the king's preferment of
private above public good, or, we may say, from the conflict between the
king's wishes as a man and his duty as a monarch. It is to Marlowe's
perception of this vital struggle underlying the hostility between King
Edward and his nobles that the play owes its greatness. We pity the
king, we can hate those who beat him down to the mire, because his fault
appeals to us in its personal aspect as almost a virtue; he is willing
to sacrifice so much to keep his friends. At the same time we perceive
the justice of his dethronement, for we recognize that the duty of a
king must take precedence over everything else. He has brought his
punishment upon himself. Yet, inasmuch as Mortimer, serviceable to the
state as an instrument, offends our sense of what is due from a subject
to his sovereign, we applaud the justice of his downfall; we, perhaps,
secretly rejoice that this bullying young baron is humbled beneath a
king's displeasure at last. As a final touch Marlowe rescues the
sovereignty of the throne from the taint of weakness by the little
prince's vigorous assertion of his authority at the end.

Queen Isabella presents certain difficulties. The king's treatment of
her reflects little credit upon him, although one can hardly de