He comes not back,
Unless the sea cast up his shipwreck'd body.
MORTIMER.
And to behold so sweet a sight as that,
There's none here but would run his horse to death....
LANCASTER.
We'll hale him by the ears unto the block.
KENT.
Let these their heads
Preach upon poles, for trespass of their tongues.
[49]:
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 that there was no place to mount higher,
Why should I grieve to my declining fall?
Farewell, faire queen; weep not for Mortimer,
That scorns the world, and as a traveller,
Goes to discover countries yet unknown.
(Edward the second.)