Language and Violence Theme Analysis

From start to finish, Edward II is an exceptionally violent play: Gaveston attacks a bishop in the very first scene, and the play ends with Edward brutally murdered and his son, Edward III, displaying the severed head of Mortimer Junior alongside his father’s corpse. What is even more striking, however, is how much of the dialogue in the play centers on violence, often describing it as something that, like language itself, can convey meaning. In fact, Marlowe seems to suggest that words are of limited usefulness in the world of Edward II—a message given further nuance by the fact that the work is a play, and is therefore a medium that blends language and physical action.

The idea that violence might function as a substitute for language appears very early in Edward II. When the nobles first speak out against Edward’s decision to recall Gaveston, Kent advises his brother, Edward, to “let these their heads / Preach upon poles for trespass of their tongues.” Mortimer responds by threatening to “henceforth parley with our naked swords.” Similar statements recur throughout the play, with the implication generally being that the spectacle of violence conveys a more powerful message about power and the consequences of treason than language alone ever could.

Initially, this is a view that Edward himself seems to share. Some of the most powerful speeches in the play are about the vengeance he intends to seek for the nobles’ treatment of both Gaveston and himself. He threatens at one point, for instance, to “unfold [his] paws / And let their lives’ blood slake [his] fury’s hunger.” But, at some point, all Edwards’ talk of violence comes to feel more like bluster than true strength. And, over time, Edward’s own language becomes more passive and uncertain. When Edward hears of Gaveston’s death, for example, he responds by wondering aloud, “O, shall I speak, or shall I sigh and die?” Neither alternative seems particularly effective, as Spencer Junior points out when he advises the king to “refer [his] vengeance to the sword.” Spencer, in other words, is advising Edward not to talk about violence, but to use actual violence to assert his power. Edward does so, and initially defeats his enemies. But battle creates inherent vulnerability; the cost of losing is much greater than the cost of losing an argument. Edward, does eventually lose, and the play’s final scenes further underscore the idea that violent action has triumphed over language (this time to Edward’s dismay), with Mortimer transforming language into a kind of weapon when he writes the note ordering the deposed king’s murder.

With all that said, it is worth remembering that Edward II is a work of literature, and therefore a testament to the power of language in and of itself. This, in fact, is something that Marlowe draws attention to by repeatedly noting the king’s fondness for poetry and theater. A performance of the play, of course, would also draw some of its power from its depiction of violence, but Marlowe at least raises the possibility that Edward’s preference for language is vindicated after his death: his son, Edward III, claims that his “loving father speaks” through him, thereby quite literally giving Edward II the play’s final word.