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MORTIMER. He was indeed thy tyrant, Thou trembled'st at his rudeness, whilst thou loved'st him; Well, then if only terror can obtain thee By the infernal gods! MARY. Away you're mad! MORTIMER. I'll teach thee then before me, too, to tremble. They're coming they approach the park is filled With men in arms. I will defend you-I MARY. O Hannah! save me, save me from his hands.
And if I see not half my dayes that's due, What nature would, God grant to yours and you; The many faults that well you know I have, Let be interred in my oblivious grave; If any worth or virtue were in me, Let that live freshly in thy memory, And when thou feel'st no grief as I no harms, Yet love thy dead, who long lay in thine arms: And when thy loss shall be repaid with gains Look to my little babes my dear remains, And if thou love thyself, or loved'st me, These O protect from step-Dames injury.
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