[MORTIMER enters in the most violent uneasiness,
and looks with apprehension round him.
MORTIMER.
Lord Leicester! Is it you! Are we alone?
LEICESTER.
Ill-fated wretch, away! What seek you here?
MORTIMER.
They are upon our track—upon yours, too;
Be vigilant!
LEICESTER.
Away, away!
MORTIMER.
They know
That private conferences have been held
At Aubespine's——
LEICESTER.
What's that to me?
MORTIMER.
They know, too,
That the assassin——
LEICESTER.
That is your affair—
Audacious wretch! to dare to mix my name
In your detested outrage: go; defend
Your bloody deeds yourself!
MORTIMER.
But only hear me.