wing letter._
_Y. Mor._ False Gurney hath betray'd me and himself.
[_Aside to Queen Isabella._
_Q. Isab._ I fear'd as much: murder can not be hid.
_Y. Mor._ It is my hand; what gather you by this?
_K. Edw. Third._ That thither thou didst send a murderer.
_Y. Mor._ What murderer? bring forth the man I sent.
_K. Edw. Third._ Ah, Mortimer, thou know'st that he is slain!
And so shalt thou be too.--Why stays he here?
Bring him unto a hurdle, drag him forth;
Hang him, I say, and set his quarters up:
And bring his head back presently to me.
_Q. Isab._ For my sake, sweet son, pity Mortimer!
_Y. Mor._ Madam, entreat not: I will rather die
Than sue for life unto a paltry boy.
_K. Edw. Third._ Hence with the traitor, with the murderer!
_Y. Mor._ Base Fortune, now I see, that in thy wheel
There is a point, to which when men aspire,
They tumble headlong down: that point I touch'd,
And, seeing there was no place to mount up higher,
Why should I grieve at my declining fall?--
Farewell, fair queen: weep not for Mortimer,
That scorns the world, and, as a traveller,
Goes to discover countries yet unknown.
_K. Edw. Third._ What, suffer you the traitor to delay?
[_Exit the younger Mortimer with First Lord and
some of the Attendants._
_Q. Isab._ As thou receivest thy life from me,
Spill not the blood of gentle Mortimer!
_K. Edw. Third._ This argues that you spilt my father's blood,
Else would you not entreat for Mortimer.
_Q. Isab._ I spill his blood! no.
_K. Edw. Third._ Ay, madam, you; for so the rumour runs.
_Q. Isab._ That rumour is untrue: for loving thee,
Is this report rais'd on poor Isabel.
_K. Edw. Third._ I do not think her so unnatural.
_Sec. Lord._ My lord, I fear me it will prove too true.
_K. Edw. Third._ Mother, you are suspected for his death
And therefore we commit you to the Tower,
Till further trial may be made thereof.
If you be guilty, though I be your son,
Think not to find me slack or pitiful.
_Q. Isab._ Nay, to my death; for too long have I liv'd,
Whenas my son thinks to abridge my days.
_K. Edw. Third._ Away with her! her words enforce these tears,
And I shall pity her, if she speak again.
_Q. Isab._ Shall I not mourn for my beloved lord?
And with the rest accompany him to his grave.
_Sec. Lord._ Thus, madam, 'tis the king's will you shall