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O miserable and distressed queen!

Would, when I left sweet France, and was embarked,

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,

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;

For never doted 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,

And be a means to call home Gaveston:

And yet he'll ever dote on Gaveston;

And so am I forever miserable.

Christopher Marlowe, Edward II.

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