t [shouting and noise], came the voice of
Queen Isabel, clear and shrill.

"Now, fair Sirs, I pray you that you do no harm unto his body, for he is
a worthy knight, our well-beloved friend, and our dear cousin."

"They have him, then!" quoth I, scarce witting that I spake aloud, nor
who heard me.

"`Have him!'" saith Dame Joan de Vaux beside me: "whom have they?"

Then, suddenly, a word or twain in the King's voice came up to where we
stood; on which hearing, an anguished cry rang out from Queen Isabel.

"Fair Son, fair Son! have pity on the sweet Mortimer!" [Note 8.]

Wala wa! that time was past. And she had shown no pity.

I never loved her, as in mine opening words I writ: yet in that dread
moment I could not find in mine heart to leave her all alone in her
agony. I have ever found that he which brings his sorrows on his own
head doth not suffer less thereby, but more. And let her be what she
would, she was a woman, and in sorrow, not to say mine own liege Lady:
and signing to Dame Joan to follow me, down degrees ran I with all
haste, and not staying to scratch on the door [Note 9], into the chamber
to the Queen.

We found her sitting up in her bed, her hands held forth, and a look of
agony and horror on her face.

"Cicely, is it thou?" she shrieked. "Joan! Whence come ye? Saw ye
aught? What do they to him? who be the miscreants? Is my son there?
Have they won him over--the coward neddirs [serpents] that they be!
Speak I who be they?--and what will they do? Ah, Mary Mother, what will
they do with him?"

Her voice choked, and I spake.

"Dame, the King is there, and divers with him."

"What do they?" she wailed like a woman in her last agony.

"There hath been sharp assault, Dame," said I, "and I fear some slain;
for as I ran in hither, I saw that which seemed me the body of a dead
man at the head of degrees."

"Who?" She nearhand screamed.

"Dame," I said, "I think it was Sir Hugh de Turpington."

"But what do they with _him_?" she moaned again, an accent of anguish on
that last word.

I save no answer. What could I have given?

Dame Joan de Vaux saith, "Dame, the King is there, and God will be with
the King. We may well be ensured that no wrong shall be done to them
that have done no wrong. This is not the contekes [quarrel] of a rabble
rout; it is the justice of the Crown upon his enemies."

"His enemies?--whose? Mine enemies are dead and gone. All of them--
all! I left not o