_King._ What! suffer you the traitor to delay? [MORTIMER _is taken away._ _Queen._ As thou receivedst thy life from me, Spill not the blood of gentle Mortimer. _King._ This argues that you spilt my father's blood, Else would you not entreat for Mortimer. 70 _Queen._ I spill his blood? no.[344] _King._ I, madam, you; for so the rumour runs. _Queen._ That rumour is untrue; for loving thee, Is this report raised on poor Isabel. _King._ I do not think her so unnatural. _Second[345] Lord._ My lord, I fear me it will prove too true. _King._ Mother, you are suspected for his death, And therefore we commit you to the Tower Till farther trial may be made thereof; If you be guilty, though I be your son, 80 Think not to find me slack or pitiful. _Queen._ Nay, to my death, for too long have I lived, Whenas my son thinks to abridge my days. _King._ Away with her, her words enforce these tears, And I shall pity her if she speak again. _Queen._ Shall I not mourn for my beloved lord, And with the rest accompany him to his[346] grave? _Second[2] Lord._ Thus, madam, 'tis the king's will you shall hence. _Queen._ He hath forgotten me; stay, I am his mother. _Second[347] Lord._ That boots not; therefore, gentle madam, go. _Queen._ Then come, sweet death, and rid me of this grief. 90 [_Exit._ _Re-enter a_ Lord, _with the head of_ MORTIMER. _Lord._ My lord, here is the head of Mortimer. _King._ Go fetch my father's hearse, where it shall lie; And bring my funeral robes. Accursèd head, Could I have ruled thee then, as I do now, Thou had'st not hatched this monstrous treachery. Here comes the hearse; help me to mourn, my lords. Sweet father, here unto thy murdered ghost I offer up this wicked traitor's head; And let these tears, distilling from mine eyes, Be witness of my grief and innocency. 100 [_Exeunt._ THE MASSACRE AT PARIS. Of _The Massacre at Paris_ there is only one early edition, an undated 8vo. (printed _circ._ 1596?) The title is:-- _The Massacre at Paris: With the death of the Duke of Guise. As it was plaide by the right honourable the Lord high Admirall his Seruants. Written by Christopher Marlowe. At London Printed by E. A. for Edward White, dwelling neere the little North doore of S. Paules Church at the signe of the Gun._ _PERSONS REPRESENTED._ CHARLES THE NINTH, _king of France._ DUKE OF ANJOU, _his Brother, afterwards_ KING HENRY THE THIRD. KING OF NAVARRE. PRINCE OF CONDÉ, _his Cousin._