he moat,
And bear the king's to Mortimer our lord:
Away! [_Exeunt with the bodies._

_Enter the younger_ MORTIMER _and_ MATREVIS.

_Y. Mor._ Is't done, Matrevis, and the murderer dead?
_Mat._ Ay, my good lord: I would it were undone!
_Y. Mor._ Matrevis, if thou now grow'st penitent,
I'll be thy ghostly father; therefore choose,
Whether thou wilt be secret in this,
Or else die by the hand of Mortimer.
_Mat._ Gurney, my lord, is fled, and will, I fear,
Betray us both; therefore let me fly.
_Y. Mor._ Fly to the savages!
_Mat._ I humbly thank your honour. [_Exit._
_Y. Mor._ As for myself, I stand as Jove's huge tree,
And others are but shrubs compar'd to me:
All tremble at my name, and I fear none:
Let's see who dare impeach me for his death!

_Enter_ QUEEN ISABELLA.

_Q. Isab._ Ah, Mortimer, the king my son hath news,
His father's dead, and we have murder'd him!
_Y. Mor._ What if he have? the king is yet a child.
_Q. Isab._ Ay, but he tears his hair, and wrings his hands,
And vows to be reveng'd upon us both.
Into the council-chamber he is gone,
To crave the aid and succour of his peers.
Ay me, see where he comes, and they with him!
Now, Mortimer, begins our tragedy.

_Enter_ KING EDWARD THE THIRD, Lords, _and_ Attendants.

_First Lord._ Fear not, my lord; know that you are a king.
_K. Edw. Third._ Villain!--
_Y. Mor._ Ho, now, my lord!
_K. Edw. Third._ Think not that I am frighted with thy words:
My father's murder'd through thy treachery;
And thou shalt die, and on his mournful hearse
Thy hateful and accursed head shall lie,
To witness to the world that by thy means
His kingly body was too soon interr'd.
_Q. Isab._ Weep not, sweet son.
_K. Edw. Third._ Forbid not me to weep; he was my father;
And had you lov'd him half so well as I,
You could not bear his death thus patiently:
But you, I fear, conspir'd with Mortimer.
_First Lord._ Why speak you not unto my lord the king?
_Y. Mor._ Because I think scorn to be accus'd.
Who is the man dares say I murder'd him?
_K. Edw. Third._ Traitor, in me my loving father speaks,
And plainly saith, 'twas thou that murder'dst him.
_Y. Mor._ But hath your grace no other proof than this?
_K. Edw. Third._ Yes, if this be the hand of Mortimer.
[_Sho